#because it’s just supposed to be skintight all the way down your leg. I can figure that out. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

samkerrworshipper · 3 months

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between thighs

short little thigh riding quickie smut blurb lol

warnings: thigh riding, soft smut, porn without plot lol

Quickies are kind of a rite of passage when you become a professional athlete.

You claw for every single moment in which you can find time to spend with your partner, especially when your schedules are so jam packed.

That’s how you and Alexia got yourself into this position, the two of you jammed against the wall of Alexia’s bedroom with five minutes before she has to leave for an event.

You’re still in the first few months of your relationship, still navigating how to balance work and life, having Alexia looking all dolled up to go out on her night off for the week did things to you, things that had ended up with you pushed up against the plaster with Alexia’s lips mouthing at your neck.

“Ale-Ale, not fair, you have to leave soon.”

You’re mad that you don’t get to accompany her, that you don’t get to galavant around with Alexia. Actually you’re more mad that you won’t get to fully appreciate Alexia in her current outfit. She’s in a skintight pink dress, a piece that you aren't even aware was in her closet until she walked out of the wardrobe with it clad to her body. Whilst you aren’t a big fan of events, you’d push past your social anxiety for the opportunity to ogle at Alexia for the night.

No words would describe just how wet your panties had suddenly become when Alexia waltzed out of her wardrobe, dressed to the nines and looking mouth-watering, your cunt all of a sudden soaked with the sight.

“Lex, what the hell?”

Alexia’s head cocked, a little smile in the corner of her mouth whilst she toyed with the hem of her dress. Your eyes are dragging up and down the pink mesh kind of material that sinches Alexia everywhere.

“This little thing? It’s from my clubbing days.”

You roll your eyes at the way that Alexia implies that she is beyond her partying days, your summer in Ibiza would argue that claim heavily.

“Little is definitely a way to describe it, not leaving a lot to the imagination Lex.”

Alexia blushes, her awkward self shining through as she tries to pull the hem down, all for it to stay put where it was.

You stood up from your seat on the edge of your bed, walking your way towards your spaniard.

“No need to be shy, I’m just jealous that I don’t get the opportunity to appreciate this number fully.”

You bite down on your lip, closing in on Alexia with your voice dropping a few octaves as you speak.

Alexia’s brow lifts in questioning, her hair tilting with her head as she looks you up and down. Whilst Alexia is completely done up, you are quite the opposite, your hair is scruffily mounted on top of your head in a bun, instead of a tight dress you are in a tank top and a plain pair of silk pyjama shorts.

“Jealous? You know I’m only going because it’s opening night and I promised Alba I’d be there. A night that you had an invite to.”

You roll your eyes, groaning at Alexia’s explanation.

“I might have reconsidered had you given me a sneak peek to your little outfit earlier on, are you sure you can’t be a little bit late? I’ll make it worth your while.”

Alexia stares down at you, as you try your hardest to convince her with your pout. She brings her hand up to your cheek, her fingers are long enough to stretch from one end of your jaw to the other, she traces the soft lines of your bones and face, her eyes following her fingers.

“I won’t be late, there are a couple of minutes until Mapi is supposed to be here.”

You nod your head dutifully, standing up on your tiptoes so you are able to pull Alexia into a kiss.

For a few seconds it’s soft, the two of you falling into your normal rhythm, Alexia is pushing you up against the wall of the bedroom, her hands pinning your hips to the wall and slotting her knee in between your legs whilst her tongue explored your mouth and lips.

“Ale-Ale, not fair, you have to leave soon.”

You tried your hardest to grind down on Alexia, but her two hands were big enough to keep you pinned to the wall, unmoving completely.

“You’ve got three minutes, that’s all you’re getting, you can’t touch me and you can’t mess with my outfit, you touch or mess with anything and we stop, understood?”

You nod your head, your mind now completely set on how to achieve your own release.

“Go ahead then babygirl.”

Your hands are nudging at Alexia’s almost immediately, pulling them from your hips so you can slip your shorts off of your ass, leaving you naked in front of Alexia.

There isn’t time for you to be insecure, you instead push yourself off the wall, nudging your way away from Alexia’s knee up to the muscular part of her thigh.

You leave a trail of wetness as you move up and down, your desire spreading up and down Alexia’s olive skin.

Alexia’s lips move to your neck, allowing your mouth to gape open, big deep guttural moans exiting your mouth as you grind up and down Alexia’s skin.

You’ve done it before, but every single time you are once again met with Alexia’s thigh you have to rediscover and locate the different ridges and muscles that felt best against your sensitive clit.

It’s not as good as how fingers or a toy would feel, but it’s something, and something is definitely better than nothing.

“Lex, please, more.”

Alexia’s lips continue at your neck, it’s helping with getting you close but you aren’t sure that you are going to be able to get off solely just from Alexia’s thigh.

“My thigh or nothing, two minutes bebita.”

You nod your head, it’s not the answer you wanted but the upside is that once Alexia is done murmuring against your neck her lips return to your pulsepoint, sucking down hard and undoubtedly leaving a deep red mark.

You force yourself down as hard as you can, allowing gravity to take the reins as you remove the pressure from your feet, relying on Alexia’s muscly quad and your core balance to hold you up.

It’s not the best thing you’ve felt, but with the mixed sensation of Alexia’s mouth, leg muscles and hands on your hips, her fingernails gripping into the bones resting below your skin.

You know that you are on a clock, so you hone in on the sensations, focusing on all of the different things you are feeling.

Raking your eyes up and down Alexia’s outfit of choice seems to be enough, it’s like a rush of endorphins hit your bloodstream as you look at Alexia’s body and all of the features that are being displayed to you.

Your thoughts of lust are shattered by the sound of knocking at the door, Alexia’s lips lit from your chest.

“Are you close, bebita?”

You nod your head furiously at Alexia, pressing yourself down as you nudge your clit hard against one of the particularly accentuated muscles in Alexia’s thigh.

“Quick, Maria’s here and I don’t want to keep her wanting, or walking in and seeing something that belongs to me.”

The possessiveness definitely sends you directly towards the edge, the urgency of your situationship coming to light.

“Ale, fuck, going to cum, Lex I’m coming.”

Alexia’s mouth presses itself to your own, silencing your moans whilst your body spasms against her own body, your pussy pulsing against her warm and wet skin.

As soon as your cunt has stopped spasming and your limbs are reconnected to your brain Alexia lifts you off of her, dumping you unceremoniously onto the mattress of her bed whilst she rushes into the bathroom to clean herself up.

“Drink some water bebita, you don’t have to wait up for me, I'll be back late.”

The pool between your legs is enough of a motivation to stay awake for Alexia, even if it means suffering for a couple of hours.

“I’ll be up, have fun, you look amazing Lex.”

The banging at the door has only grown louder, Alexia is tugging on her shoes aggressively whilst trying to make it out of the door. You enjoy the sight from your spot sitting on her bed, your body covered in the sheets.

“I will, text me if you need anything and no touching without my permission, wait up or sleep, I love you.”

You nod at her, snorting as Alexia clips the corner of her doorway whilst trying to make it out of the room. A string of curses leave her mouth, her body lurching forwards and out of your sight, undoubtedly towards the door to stop Maria’s insistent banging.

You think about the feeling of her cold, big, stong hands on your hips, the heat still spreading from the marks she’d sucked into your neck and the pleasure spread across the apex of your legs from Alexia’s thigh that had fit so perfectly between your own thighs.

#woso #woso community #barca femeni #alexia putellas smuttt #alexia putellas is mom #daddy alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #la reina #woso imagine #woso smut #woso one shot #woso blurbs

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ah0rmone · 3 years

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dazai osamu x fem! reader

warnings: nsfw, minors, dni! dubcon if you squint because the reader finds dazai annoying but attractive, non-consensual touching (at first), enemies/rivals to fuck buddies I guess?, fingering, vaginal penetration.

there are literally two self-defence techniques from here and here

"Why it has to be you?" you grumbled looking at the person who stood in front of you.

"Oh, who else would you like to see as your teacher? Kunikida-kun who's doing everything according to instructions, even fighting? Ranpo-kun who won't lift a finger unless it's a murder case? Or Tanizaki-kun who's always followed by Naomi-chan?"

The obnoxious man in front of you was called Osamu Dazai and, to be fair, you'd actually prefer any other agency member over him. Sure, he definitely had combat experience and, probably, wasn't that bad at teaching, given that Atsushi was still following him. But something about him was off and you didn't like it. Nor that you had any choice, Dazai was there for a reason and that reason was Fukuzawa's order.

"Whatever," you sighed. "Can we get to it already?"

Today was the day when you were supposed to learn some self-defence techniques. Your ability wasn't really of a combat type, so you never participated in fights but it didn't mean that you had a zero possibility of running into problems. It was your own request to be taught how to protect yourself.

However, you didn't feel quite confident at all. You genuinely hated conflicts and tended to avoid people, so all of this was a somewhat essential but still itchy experience. Your sporty shorts and a skintight top wasn't helping the situation either. Especially, since a person with who you were going to get quite close physically was a rather attractive young man. You and Dazai weren't that close, just colleagues who barely communicated. For you he was just as attractive as he was annoying - you wouldn't mind having a fling with him but nothing more. Maybe it was the way he carried himself: overly cheerful, loud and noisy. Or maybe it was the things he was hiding: his true mischievous, manipulative personality.

Taking a deep breath you reminded yourself that it was your idea, something that your survival depended on and that you just had to get over it.

"Usually you're not the one who fights, y/n-chan. So what are we doing here?" Dazai asked, a teasing smile on his lips.

His eyes were gleaming with a vicious sparkle. Your power imbalance was uncomfortable to you. You shrugged, the feeling that he was a big cat and you were his meal strongly sat in your guts.

"I'm here to learn how to defend myself. Like some easy techniques. I'm not very strong, keep it in mind," you reminded with a well-controlled flat voice but some notes of irritation would have been apparent even to the densest person.

Osamu didn't answer, instead, he let his fake smile turn into a smirk. For a moment the room fell into silence and you could swear that your heart was beating too loud. Both of you just stared at each other for some seconds until the smile returned on Dazai's lips and the man joyfully clapped.

"Okay, gotcha! First of all," he took a step closer. "The most important thing in fighting is a stable stance. Stand like this," he put the left leg forward and motioned you to follow him.

Hesitantly you mirrored his stance, the feeling of embarrassment washing over you. It wasn't even the physical activity that you hated but the way Dazai was gazing at you. Predatory eyes were gliding over your skin like he was analysing your tiniest movements. Like he was about to pounce.

Just as you anticipated, once you've finished copying him, Osamu clicked his tongue and stood up.

"No, y/n-chan, you're doing it wrong."

You were about to argue but Dazai was already behind you. Suddenly painfully aware of the warmth of his body you tried to move from him but he was quick to put a hand on your hip.

"Let me help you," his hot breath ran over the shell of your ear making you flinch a little.

While you were contemplating whether you should allow him to be that close, Dazai had already brushed his palm down your leg. Now he was standing next to you, your bodies touching.

"There," he encouraged, moving your leg a little further by the back of your knee. His other hand was still placed on your hip and such a position was taking away any personal space you had before.

"Thanks," you muttered, feeling the light smell of his cologne.

"Now you're standing rather steady, aren't you?" he beamed with his hand still on your leg.

"Ah, yeah," you muttered, grabbing him by the wrist and pushing it off yourself then taking a step back. "Guess, we can move to the actual stuff now."

"Y/n-chan!" Dazai exclaimed. "The stance is very important, I didn't show it for fun!"

You saw the man's lips curl into a pout but either than that he didn't display any sign of irritation by you pushing him away. Keeping that in mind you decided that even though he might not have any ill intentions you should stay on guard.

Something dropped behind the door and as you inverted your gaze to the sound you felt your hair being grabbed.

"What," you didn't even have the chance to end the question instantly being pushed to the wall.

Your colleague's right hand was holding firmly your hair, the other one gripping your waist. You tried to push back, but to no avail - his whole body was pushing you to the wall.

"Dazai," you growled.

"Too bad, y/n-chan," he cooed. "How can you protect yourself when you have such a short attention span? Look at you - one move and you're helpless."

The sting of resentment piercing through your heart encouraged you to grumble through the teeth:

"I told you I'm weak."

"And stupid apparently," he gibbed.

"Listen," you tried to free yourself but instead just shook your hips clumsily. "If you came here just to insult me, let's end it, I'll ask Fukuzawa-san to send someone else," voice full with venom, you wanted to be as far from Dazai as possible but instead felt with dread as your hips bucked into his. You jolted forward fighting for the tiniest bit of space.

If Dazai noticed, he didn't show it as there was no reaction whatsoever. However, your little touch wasn't the only thing he ignored:

"Let me instead show you how to deflect it," he proposed, paying no heed to your words.

He backed up and you got a chance to glance at him with unhidden irritation. He met your gaze with a cheesy smile like he wasn't a person degrading you a couple of seconds ago. However, giving it a little bit more thought you exhaled and nodded. After all, you should've picked up something from this lesson, not just the revelation that Dazai was a total dick and you wouldn't want him to be near you ever again.

You moved from the wall and this time he gripped your hair slowly.

"What you want to do now is to grab my hand by both of yours, then stand back to the stance I showed you earlier, turn underneath the arm, so that you twist it and when the person lets go, just bolt. Got it?"

You hummed in acknowledgement. Perhaps it wasn't that difficult. Perhaps, at the end of the day, the lesson would be fruitful.

"Try it then," he prompted and then tugged at your hair lightly.

Following his instructions, you grabbed his hand and as you were about to go underneath his arm, he spun you. His arm was firmly holding your throat.

"No, y/n-chan, I've told you your stance was wrong," he whined. "Let me show you again."

"What just happened?" you asked confusedly but he already was spreading your legs.

Osamu didn't answer, too busy putting you in the right stance. And you tried your best to concentrate on how your legs were placed instead of his fingers brushing over your ass a couple of times, once getting a little bit too close to your clothed vagina.

"Just like this," he said and his hand slid up from your knee to your waist getting under the top a little.

From your point of view, the skinship was completely irrelevant but you decided to keep your sharky comments to yourself. For now, you were going to follow his instructions and maybe you could avoid the conflict.

Maybe not.

This time around when you were trying to deflect his arm, once again he outpowered you. You cursed as he said with disappointment in his voice (you were pretty sure it was the fake one, he was enjoying it, that bastard):

"You're too slow, y/n-chan. Do you think attackers would just stand there and watch as you crawl your way out of their grip as a turtle in slow-mo?"

"Dazai, I'd appreciate it if you-"

"Again," he cut you harshly, puppeting you around like you were nothing but a doll.

His attitude towards you was so demoralizing you were fighting the urge to end it here and there. Losing all the motivation and looking exhausted, you tried to go through the motion again but Dazai wasn't having it.

"Hm, y/n-chan, kinda feels like you're not trying hard enough. Should I give you a motivation boost?" he exclaimed cheerfully but before you could say that he should go fuck himself he had already pushed you to the wall. Again.

You were expecting harsh words pouring from his mouth, but instead, it was the kisses as he roughly pulled your hair baring your neck for him. The hot tongue travelled from your shoulder to the globe of your ear, prompting you to jolt. Once again you attempted to push him away but could barely move. His left hand was pinning your wrist and his right one was painfully tagging at your hair, cranking your head to the side.

"Dazai," you wanted to let him know that you understood his intentions but he needed to stop when a not so gentle bite quickly shut you up.

He was licking and nipping leaving hickeys at your poor neck. You were squirming and whirling under his touch not giving up yet, so he thrust his hips into yours. There was no way you could keep any sounds in, so a whiny moan escaped your lips. You felt Dazai stopping, a satisfied smirk on his lips, then without saying a word, he continued torturing your sensitive neck. Two things were clear to you: a strong lust was taking over your body which meant that you were slowly losing yourself and that Dazai had just started playing with you, there were more to come.

Dazai. Dazai! Realising who was the man behind you, you tried to gain back control. Osamu was just being a bully, whywere you letting him see you in such a state? He certainly didn't deserve nor your moans, nor your hips grinding his.

You were thinking this but it took everything in you to not just give in to his touch. While you were having an internal battle, Dazai pulled away with a loud pop.

"Five."

"Five what?" you mewled weakly.

"There are five hickeys on your neck," Dazai murmured. "You look so good, all red and moaning. When you can't even do anything. You've been definitely enjoying it, sure you still want to continue learning self-defence techniques?"

You widened your eyes at his words.

"Excuse me?!" you exploded. "What the hell are you implying?!"

With all force, you shoved him in the side with an elbow. Dazai hissed and even though the attack was fairly weak he let go.

"I mean, no kink-shaming," he put hands in the air surrendering.

"What's your problem?!"

It was hard for you to overcome your desire of slapping him but no way in hell you were staying in one room with him for another second. You bolted but Dazai was quicker, catching your hand.

"Where're you going? For a moment there I thought you didn't agree and wanted to continue," he quipped. "Come on, that was just one technique."

"Dazai, let me go," you growled yanking your hand free. "I've had enough of you today, I'm leaving."

You had already turned to leave when he pulled you to the ground. You snorted in frustration, your legs fiercely kicking but the lack of strategy played against you and there you were - trapped under him. Osamu was sitting between your legs with his arms pinning yours to the ground.

You felt unbearably hot and weak, your cunt throbbing against his groin. His face was hanging right above yours, so close you could feel his breath. Unintentionally your eyes focused on his lips then you looked up. Only now you noticed how lustful his gaze was. He clearly was a winner today and he was about to enjoy his prize. As you licked your lips, your recognised your mistake - now your eagerness was more than obvious.

"I'm just parched," you faltered but it sounded pathetic even to you.

"I'm sure you are," Osamu whispered, sitting back. "One more technique and I'll let you go." His fingers gripped your thighs.

Since his weight was off you now, you felt kind of cold. Not knowing where to place your arms, you were about to put them next to your sides when Dazai commanded you to keep them still.

That position was too sexy for your liking - arms are placed next to your head, legs spread. All of it without his control felt like you were offering yourself to him. Like you were submitting. The man was clearly savouring it because his gaze was so intense, in the end, you even had to avert yours.

Dazai clearly didn't like it, tapping your left thigh:

"Look at me, y/n-chan, how else are you supposed to learn?"

You slowly turned back, embarrassed as your eyes darted all over him until they abruptly stopped at his crotch. There was a visible boner in his pants. When Osamu followed your gaze and loudly chuckled you felt your cheeks grow hot and desire growing stronger.

"Concentrate, y/n-chan," Dazai said amusingly but the only thing you could concentrate on was the wetness between your legs. You feared it might start to be visible through your shorts.

"Look, if someone got you into this position," Osamu continued like both of you didn't want the same thing and that thing was to fuck. "You have to keep your arms straight and put them on your shoulders, like this," he gently took your hands and placed them as he instructed. "Then you should put your leg on my hip," he tried to do it for you once again but your leg was wobbly. All the strength you had was wasted on keeping your arms straight.

Dazai sighed theatrically but he couldn't keep a vicious sparkle in his eyes.

"Y/n-chan," he whinged. "You're such a bad student. Weak. Stupid," his fingers were slowly stroking your thigh. "Having a short attention span. Don't you think that you should have concentrated on learning some stuff instead of thinking about my cock?" With this question his arm groped your ass, pulling you closer.

He gripped your hips and you let out a moan. Now you weren't trying to hold back. You were already a loser, might as well enjoy it. Being a tease he was, Dazai wasn't ready to give you everything right then and there but you were having none of it. You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him closer by his collarbone. Osamu certainly wasn't ready for such a force so he confusingly complied.

"Call me stupid one more time and I'm leaving," you warned him, a confident smirk playing on your lips.

Dazai's face quickly changed from surprised to a perverse one. He dropped down on you, pinning you with his whole body and slammed his hips into yours. As you moaned he caressed your face, lovingly brushing your hair, and then whispered:

"I'm gonna break you, pretty doll."

With one swift motion, he put your wrists in one hand pinning it above your head, his tongue running over your lips then dragging you into a deep kiss. As you two were hungrily kissing each other you felt his fingers crawling under your waistband. You jolted, an instinct of placing your hand over his acting up but he was still holding you firmly. He ran one finger over your cunt but you were already shaking, silently begging for more.

"Dazai," you moaned desperately asking him to get down to business.

"You're so wet, y/n-chan," he licked your earlobe making you writhe. "I wish I teased you a little bit more," he started to kiss your jaw getting lower and lower. "I said that I'd break you but it seems you're already at your limit," he chortled, helping you to take your top and bra off.

"You look so beautiful," he murmured once you were almost fully naked in front of him.

Suddenly his gaze turned soft and you felt even more aroused than you before. Gladly the man wasn't planning on wasting any time as he started to lick, nip and bite one of your nipples, playing with his fingers with another. Moaning lewdly and rutting your hips you put your hand into his hair, curling soft strands in your fingers.

When he finished playing with your tits, he wanted to go further down, to place kisses on your lower stomach, but you decided to get back at him. Placing your straight hands on his shoulders, you put a leg on his thigh just as he instructed and squirmed out of his grip.

"You talk about me but look at yourself," you shoved a knee between his thighs, pushing it at his boner. "You were hard even before I started to feel something else besides irritation."

Now it was Osamu whose breath hitched. You were savouring your little win when he looked back at you with a dangerous grin. That was when you realised you fucked up. He quickly grabbed your leg and turned you over on the stomach. Laying down on you, he harshly seized your hair and hissed:

"A+ for learning the technique, but your attitude towards you teacher," he took off your shorts with pants nearly ripping them. "Needs some correction."

That was when the sound of a loud slap broke the silence of the room. You jolted, a gasp leaving your lips. You tried to crawl from him but his grip on your hair was strong.

"Come on, y/n-chan, it was just one slap. Don't you think you deserve it?" The hand that hit you was stroking your bruised ass cheek.

"It fucking hurt," you spit.

"Was it?" Dazai chuckled. "Say that you're sorry."

"For what?" you raged but another hit was your answer.

"Dazai, stop," you sobbed.

"Wrong," he retorted slapping your ass again. "Plus, if you don't like it why are you leaking so much?"

You embarrassingly bit a lip at his remark.

"A little bit of masochistic, are you?" Dazai noted. "Well, if you insist, I can keep on going."

You knew that both of you were barely holding it, so you decided to submit. Just this once.

"I'm sorry!" You squealed after another hit.

"Good girl," Osamu placed a soft kiss on your back still not letting go of your hair. "Now it's time for a treat."

And with that, he finally pushed the first finger into you. Since you were so wet there was a little pool under you, Dazai successfully pushed another finger shortly after. You quivered and jerked your hips begging him to move. This time around your colleague decided not to tease you.

As his fingers were pumping in and out of you, you were trying to push your head down to steady yourself but Dazai didn't let go. You were completely at his will.

"'m close," you mewled, your eyes rolling back.

Dazai hummed in acknowledgement and withdrew his hand. You groaned offendedly but heard the sound of a condom wrapper being ripped and then felt something else rubbing at your entrance.

Finally, Osamu positioned himself behind you and pushed inside, your pussy stretching obediently. The fullness made you gasp pervertedly. As he started moving your mind went completely blank. The only thing that existed for you at that moment was Dazai and his cock inside of you. He let go of your hair, one hand now was holding your hips and another one was giving attention to your clit.

You had no idea how he was still holding on but once your sensitive bud got stimulated you quickly come undone.

"Once more," Dazai panted while moving and playing with your clit simultaneously.

Even though you were tired, you had actually felt desire growing again. Osamu was just way too good for you to resist. You thought that the only thing he was chasing was his high, but he didn't cum until you orgasmed again denying himself every time he got too close. That's why when you cummed for the second time you did it toghether.

He rolled off you, but you couldn't move even a finger, for a moment you've gone completely numb. Your chest was going up and down with heavy breaths, your heart was racing. None of you spoke because you didn't know what to talk about. Especially, since you, personally, felt way too embarrassed to admit that you had just cummed two times because of an annoying Dazai Osamu.

"Looks like we ended in time!" Dazai chirped after some time and you looked at the clock realising that you spent here one hour. Just like it was promised.

"Wish I had actually learned something though," you remarked lazily, trying to pull on your shorts back. You just had to make it to the shower room and then wear your casual clothes. However, your pants were completely ruined.

"Well, if you think that you need another one, just let me know," you looked back at Dazai and his smirk told you that he wasn't meaning the self-defence lessons. You felt your cheeks grow hot again.

"Yeah, sure," you muttered, awkwardly leaving the training room.

From now on you intended on avoiding Dazai whenever it's possible.

Little did you know he had other plans.

#bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs smut #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu smut #tw // dubcon

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

Dancing With Danger

Batboys x Meta!Reader HC/Imagines

Word Count: 3.5K Warnings: Explicit Language, Suggestive Themes

Author's Note: Edited another story for y'all! Enjoy! -Thorne

Dick:

His feet hit the fire escape, and he cursed himself at his carelessness. He shifted, trying to pick his feet up before it happened, but he was too late; he thrashed, pulling away from the metal railing that was curling around his ankles, but the second they wrapped around his thighs, he knew he was done. Still, he struggled, fighting even as the railing wrapped around his wrists and waist, effectively pinning him to the wall. He grunted, heaving with all his might, hoping that he could find some slack within the metal, but he couldn’t, then he heard an amused chuckle from above.

“You sure fell for that one, didn’t you, Nightwig?”

He craned his neck up to see her on the ledge he’d just jumped from. His eyes narrowed into a glare and she lowered down; her feet hit the metal platform and she sashayed over to him.

He rolled his eyes and deadpanned, “Nightwing.”

She put a hand to her ear, a smartass smirk playing her lips. “Sorry, Nightwig? What was that?”

He growled at her. “Wing. Night. Wing.”

She put her hand to her chest in mock apology, nodding. “Right, right. Nightwing.” She grinned and stepped up to him, reaching out a hand and tracing at the raised symbol on his chest. “But back to my original question…you really did fall for that one.” She cocked her head to the side as she leaned against the railing. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one out of the family?”

“I am.”

“Really? From the way you leaped without looking first, you could’ve fooled me.”

He tugged at the metal around his wrists. “It was an accident, it won’t happen again—” He stopped, glowering at her. “When I get out of here, I’m going to—” His words stuttered as she pressed herself up against him, draping her arms around his neck, slipping one of her legs between his hips until her thigh was nestled against his front.

One of her hands fell away and twirled the hair that brushed his cheekbones as she repeated, “When you get out of this?” She waved the hand, and he felt the metal tighten, then a piece came up and circled his neck; it wasn’t tight enough to cut off the air, but just enough to feel the pressure and he gasped despite himself.

Her eyes narrowed in amusement and she whispered, “I’m afraid you’re not going to get out of this one, Nightwing.”

She hummed and leaned close, lips brushing against his cheek as she said, “You’re stuck.” He raised his head a little, swallowing thickly, as he tried to get comfortable with the metal around his neck. “Man, you look like a lost puppy.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because you don’t know what to do.” He opened his mouth to retort but shut it when he realized that she was right—he didn’t have anything, his mind was blank, and it must’ve shown on his face because she grinned and murmured, “And there we go…you know I’m right.”

He inhaled deeply before clearing his throat. “So, what are you gonna do to me?”

She reached up and traced his jaw. “Hot man in a skintight black and blue suit, helplessly pinned to a wall? I could think of a few things.” The finger she was using to trace his jaw shifted slightly and traced his bottom lip. “You and I could break a sweat for a few hours.” Her head dipped towards his ear and she smirked as he shivered. “Ravish each other’s bodies until we’re slick with sweat and collapsed chest to chest.”

When he gave her no response she pulled back and peered at him a moment before huffing and bopping his nose. “But you really don’t look all that into what we’ve got going on.”

She pulled away, leaving him missing her warmth, and she waved a hand, the metal around him uncurled, freeing him. “So, I’m just gonna go on my merry way.” She slipped over the railing and climbed up to the ledge.

Before he could stop himself, he stepped forward, a hand reaching out as he called, “Wait!”

She stopped, turning around, a smirk on her face. “Yes, Nightwing?”

“What if I was?” he asked.

“Was what?”

He swallowed thickly, suit suddenly feeling skintight. “Into it. You know…you and me…breaking a sweat…ravishing each other?”

She hummed and winked at him. “I guess we’ll just have to wait for the next time you get careless.” She pulled something from her pocket and waved it around. “Thanks for the souvenir, cutie. It’ll go great on my wall.”

His eyes widened at the sight of the Batarang in her hand and he patted his pockets. “How did you—”

She winked again. “If you can catch me…I’ll tell you.” She mock saluted him as she took off. “See you later, pretty boy!” He huffed a laugh, feeling the grin work onto his lips as he jumped the railing, climbing the ledge, and taking off after her.

Jason:

His feet sunk as he sprinted in the gravel of the electric station. His hood had been lost a few moments before, cast off somewhere in the forest he’d been chasing her through, but he didn’t care; he was too focused on catching her and bringing her to GCPD.

He saw her up ahead, simply standing still, face directed towards the sky, and he skidded to a stop, pulling out his guns. “Look doll, I don’t want to hurt you. But if you wanna dance? I can dance.”

She turned around, and the grin she wore made his stomach clench, and he wasn’t sure if it was from apprehension…or arousal. “Really? Because I don’t think it’ll be much of a dance between us, Red Hood.”

He narrowed his eyes as he thumbed the hammer back on his pistols. “Why’s that?”

She motioned around him. “Look around you, Casanova…you don’t realize where you’ve just run into, do you?”

He looked around for a second, then his eyes widened, and he muttered, “Oh shit.” His eyes darted back to her, and he raised the guns, but it was too late.

She waved her hand, and they went flying off somewhere he couldn’t get to. He stepped back, intent on fleeing when something hard hit his back. There wasn’t even time to glance behind him as hands moved involuntarily over his head.

She tutted as she walked towards him. “And that, Casanova, is why you don’t where gloves with metal plates in them.” She paused, tipping her head to the side. “Well, I could control you even if you didn’t have metal gloves.”

He paused, staring at her as she stood up in front of him. “…The iron in my blood.”

Her eyes widened in mild surprise and she smiled. “Not many people can get that one. Well done.” She reached into her pocket and pulled something out, raising it and shoving it into his mouth. “Have a cookie.” His eyes narrowed, and he tried to spit it out, but she placed a hand over his mouth and laughed at the glare. “Relax, Casanova, it’s a chocolate chip cookie…not poison.” His eyes were still narrowed, but he chewed slowly, and she snorted as she pulled her hand away. “You’re kinda stubborn.”

He swallowed and bit out, “It’s one of my charms.”

She smiled at him and lifted her hands, rifling through his pockets; he let out a grunt and tried to pull away, but a metal cord wrapped around his strong arms and broad chest, stopping him. “Good news for me then.” She stopped, pulling out whatever it was she was looking for. “I like stubbornness.” She winked. “Makes sex fun.”

His eyes widened and he stopped struggling in favor of gaping like a fish. “I…What?”

She snorted and looked down at the tracker, tapping a few buttons before crushing it in her hand. “I like stubborn men because it makes sex fun.” She looked at him and tapped his forehead. “Did I get through the central brain function this time?”

He blinked and leaned as far as he could. “You…want to have sex…with me?”

She nodded, eying his body with no shame whatsoever, and he felt his body flush with desire under her gaze. “With a body and thighs like yours? Who wouldn’t want to have sex with you?”

He smirked at her answer and cocked his head up. “You let me out of this, and we can take this to a hotel. I promise I won’t disappoint you, doll.”

She huffed a laugh and reached up, running her hands up his suited stomach as she quipped, “Is this before or after you hand me over to GCPD?”

His muscles flexed at the feel of the pressure and he murmured, “Before, of course. I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I left a woman unsatisfied.”

Her eyes narrowed and she tipped her head up, resting her chin on his chest; he gazed down at her, their faces inches apart. “Sounds hot. But as much as I’d love to roll around with you all night…I have no plans of sitting in a jail cell.” She paused; her hands splayed along his chest as she asked, “You gotta S.O.S. button I can activate for you, Casanova? I’d hate to leave you defenseless.”

He scoffed at her ‘concern’ and nodded. “Device in my left thigh pocket.” Her eyes never left his as she reached down, unbuttoning the pocket before pulling it out and clicking the button. She dropped it on the ground and brought her hand up, ‘accidently’ brushing the inside of his thigh with her hand; he sucked in a breath that sounded distinctly like a groan and she let out an amused hum.

“Sorry Casanova, my hand slipped there.”

He chuckled and murmured, “Oh, I’m sure it did, doll.”

For a moment he was sure she was gonna hit him, then she gripped his chin in her hand and pulled him into a searing kiss. His eyes went wide then she shut, just as she grinned and stepped away from him.

She cast him a wink and turned, walking off, but stopped when he breathed heavily, “So, just out of curiosity…if we happen to do this tango again…can we do it in a bed next time?”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Only if I get to top.”

He smirked at her. “I’d love to see you above me, doll.”

She winked at him before turning back around, swaying her hips as she walked off; she waved, calling out, “I’ll see you the next time we dance, Casanova.”

Tim:

He fumbled with the change the barista had given him before he finally grunted exasperatedly and shoved it into the tip jar; she blinked, stunned at the action. “Um, Red Robin? You just put all that change in the tip jar.”

He nodded, handing her the thermos. “I know.” He motioned to the can. “Put the java chip Frappuccino in the cup and we’re square.”

She nodded, taking it from him. “But are you sure you don’t want your change? You literally gave us like eighty dollars in tips.”

“I just want my coffee. I really don’t need the money.”

She shrugged, but made his drink, and a few moments later he was stepping out of the Starbucks and moving down the alley. He brought the cup to his lips when the sound of someone coughing behind him made him whirl around, his Bo staff already clicked and extended. He only had it in his hand for a split second when it whipped out of his grip, flying against the wall.

It dropped and he capped the thermos, setting it down before he raised his hands, ready to fight. “You.”

He barely had a second to react before his back hit the alley wall, his staff pinning shoved into his chest, holding his back against it. He struggled, trying to push it out of the way. When it didn’t budge, he tried to crawl out from underneath, but it curled, digging each end into the wall underneath his arms. He stopped struggling and sighed, realizing that he was caged and not able to slip out.

She stepped towards him and picked up the thermos, winking at him. “Me.”

He grunted, trying to reach for the cup. “That’s mine.”

She snorted at his vain attempt and uncapped it. “Mine now, Red.”

He groaned as he watched her take a sip. “Why would you hurt me like this? You know my weakness is my coffee.”

She nodded as she swallowed and brought the cup down. “And pretty girls who manipulate metal.” She winked. “Don’t forget that one too.”

He grumbled in annoyance but acquiesced. “Yes, yes. Coffee and pretty girls who manipulate metal make me weak in my knees.” He glared at her as she took another sip. “Happy now?”

She nodded. “I’m getting there.” She shook the cup. “When I finish this, I’ll be very happy.”

He whined at her. “C’mon…don’t do me like this.”

“You’re so cute when you whimper.”

“I’m not whimpering.”

“Alright puppy. You keep telling yourself that.”

He whined once more when she took another sip. “I’ll do anything if you stop drinking my coffee.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and capped the thermos before lowering it and walking up to him. “Anything?”

He nodded frantically his hand reached out to grab it. “Anything. Just let me have my coffee.” She kept it out of his grip, only letting his fingers brush it and he groaned, looking at her. “Please?”

She smirked and reached up, taking his chin in her hand; she leaned close and pressed her lips to his. She laughed internally as he groaned against her, his hands no longer reaching for the cup, this time trying to get a grip on her suit to yank her against him. She felt his tongue dart against her lips, and she opened her mouth for him, letting him slip his tongue inside. She let him have his way for a few seconds before she pulled back; he chased her lips until she rested her pointer finger against them, effectively stopping him.

His breath was hot against her finger and she tapped his mouth quipping, “For someone who wants coffee so badly, it seems to me like you want to make out a helluva lot more.”

He grinned, giving her full view of his pearly white teeth. “Would it help more if I told you I wanted to drink my coffee, then make out with you in the movie theater balconies?”

Her eyes narrowed in amusement and she twirled away, uncapping his thermos once more. “It probably would.” She gestured to him. “You get outta that and find me in the balconies and we can continue where we left off.” She waved as she stepped off, sipping his coffee. “Bye Red.”

After a few moments, the bent Bo staff dropped to the ground and he jerked forward, taking off in the direction of the movie theater, his heart hammering in his chest as a face-splitting grin crossed his lips.

Bruce:

She collapsed into the lawn chair on the roof, tugging off the pants and overshirt she wore until she was left in her underwear and bra. She groaned, feeling the heat crawl over her body, and she raised a hand, making a piece of metal spin like a ceiling fan until it blew a breeze.

The air it gave off barely staved the sweltering humidity and she groaned once more. “It’s. Too. Fucking. Hot.”

She heard an amused hum beside her, and she cracked an eye open, seeing him standing above her; she grunted and waved him away from her. “Oh, go shove it, Batman. You know I love playing two-person-push-ups, but it’s too hot to play right now.” Another amused hum followed and she rolled over onto her stomach.

She turned her face to the side and glared up at him. “How are you not dying of a goddamn heatstroke right now? I know you’ve gotta be sweating under all those titanium plates.”

He shrugged. “Suit has a built-in cool layer. I’m in the middle between starting to sweat and not.” He paused, looking around, then added, “It’s about a good seventy-five out here.”

She groaned, reaching down to grab her glass; sipping it, she motioned to the pitcher and empty glass. “I figured you’d show up sometime tonight…have a drink if you want.”

Surprisingly, he poured himself a glass and sat beside her. “Why are you out on the roof?”

“‘Cause my fucking AC broke.”

“You can’t fix it?”

She glared at him. “I manipulate metal, Batman. I don’t fix things.” The corners of his mouth turned up and she closed her eyes, whining, “It’s so hotttttt!”

A few seconds later, she felt a cool breeze run up her body and her she moaned, digging her face into the chair. “Whatever you’ve got going, Batman…it feels great.” She received a chuckle in return, and she mumbled, “If you even think about trying to arrest me, I’ll crush your head in that metal helmet you’ve got on. You hear me, Batman?”

He hummed at her. “Mhm. Don’t worry. I’ll take pity on you simply because you’re hot.”

She opened her eyes and grinned at him. “Well, thanks for saying.” She winked. “Is that the reason you like sleeping with me?”

He huffed a laugh and tipped his head. “I like sleeping with you because you like sleeping with me.” He peered at her. “And you’re a mystery I can’t figure out.”

She flipped over onto her back and propped herself up on her elbows, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

“You have the ability to manipulate metal and magnetic fields…I like to know what makes people the way they are, but I can’t figure out why you have the ability.”

She shrugged at his answer. “I can’t answer the question either…as far as I know, I’m the only one in my family who can do this.”

He was silent a moment, then inquired, “Why don’t you use your abilities for the good of society? Why do you do the things you do?” She met his eyes and stared at him.

“Why not?” He blinked, a little stunned at her answer as she continued, “Not everyone wants to be a hero, Batman.”

“You want to be an anti-hero then?”

“I kinda have the same mentality as Red Hood. Fucking with criminals is so much more fun than working with them. Except I’m not trying to save everyone.” She paused. “And I mean that in a pranking sense not a sexual one.” She huffed and dropped her head back. “I really don’t feel like discussing our moral ambiguities right now, Batman.”

“What do you want to discuss?”

“How you’re planning on fixing my AC for me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t, I’ll stop sleeping with you.” She raised her head back up and grinned at him. “And I really don’t think you want to stop sleeping with me.” He stood up from his position and stared down at her, then held out a hand; she glanced at it before looking back at him. “What?”

“Want to get out of the heat?”

“And where is ‘out of the heat’?”

“My apartment in the city.” He flashed her a smile. “AC keeps the place a solid sixty-five.”

She arched an eyebrow at that. “We’ve never tangoed in anyone’s apartment other than mine.” She peered at him, suspiciously. “What’s your game, Batman? You gonna tell me who you are or something?”

He said nothing, just kept the hand out until she rolled her eyes and reached out, taking it. His hand curled around hers and he tugged her up; she hit his chest, her other palm going flat against it.

His arm wound around her waist holding her close and he murmured, “If I told you who I was right now, without taking off my cowl, would you believe me?”

She gaped at him before recovering and flirted, “Hold onto your secret for a little while longer, Batman…I like the game we have going.” He smirked and she wiggled in his grip. “Either get me somewhere cold or let go. I’m starting to sweat again.”

He released her, stepping away and motioning to the apartment complex off in the distance. “Blue building with the neon billboard on top.”

She nodded and leaned down, slipping on her clothes, then slipping on the metal cuffs around her wrists. She walked beside him, letting her hand come up the back of his thigh as she murmured, “I’ll see you there, Batman.”

He watched as she rose from the building, making her way across the city before he huffed and jumped down the alley, sliding into the Batmobile and starting his drive towards a pleasure filled night.

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carpathxanridge · 2 years

Note

First of all, I didn’t expect you to be 20. I’m a radical feminist and I didn’t entirely unlearn the misogynist socialisation I underwent until at least a few years beyond 20. You give me hope. ❤️

I just had to say that bc I came to your blog to send an ask about your post regarding feminist consciousness but still forgetting/remembering with horror, with the example about how you wear boxer briefs now and can’t believe you used to wear shorts even shorter; and your words about remembering and feeling “something so tangled with feelings of dread and embarrassment and anger” really struck me.

I can absolutely relate to it. I dress for comfort now, and looking back on my “old wardrobe” I feel a sense of horror and cringe for my past self. Not cringe-bad taste (as far as fashionable trends went, I felt confidently “cute” and received the positive attention I thought I had to get), but cringe for how badly I felt like I needed to sexualise myself to be seen as interesting/worthy. Cringe because I would never wear things that uncomfortably exposing now, length of clothes that boys my age at the time would never be caught dead in (funny how teenage males never wear glute-revealing booty shorts or middriff tops… i wonder why.). The short shorts, skirts, push-up bras (I don’t wear bras at all anymore). It makes me sad. I would never wear those things now. I’m not selling a fucking product. I’m not a walking Instagram ad. My comfort matters, and I don’t need to degrade myself with clothing that makes me “look appealing” to men, that has me constantly worried people can see under my skirt or down my shirt, etc.

It makes me want to cry for the girl and young woman that I was. I wish she always wore comfy clothes, especially on dates (hate thinking about how much myself and my peers would spend time wanting to show off our figure/waist and shave legs and pluck eyebrows and wax hair and “big titty goth gf” and shit, while the boys we were bending over backwards for were allowed to just be boys who didn’t have to conceal their pimples or even work out obsessively). There’s no need to wear anything skintight. You can wear underwear that you’re comfortable in, skirts and pants that are easy and safe to move around in.

Anyway, sorry that got kind of long. It’s just so true that there’s such a big difference between the way women dress before and after they’ve had those sequential major realisations about JUST how deep the omnipresent predatory male gaze goes (it’s not always just One Moment, I believe the realisation can happen gradually over time).

Female socialisation is fucked up and teenage girls and young women need to be protected at all costs.

Asking on anon because I’m a crypto and scared of the “witch” hunt. 🙃

aaa thank you for your ask! i really enjoyed seeing your response and that my post resonated with you. and you actually reminded me that my bio isn’t up to date—i’m 21 now haha. but yeah, i suppose i was lucky to have a head-start finding feminist consciousness. when i think about it, i got really into feminism-101 in middle school, just before any interest in feminism at all on tumblr was regarded suspicious and possibly terfy. and then i was about 16 years old when i started researching radical feminism and found myself privately agreeing with much of it—so when i see transactivists say it’s so sad/proof of brainwashing that there are girls under 18 on radblr, i laugh because there isn’t any age too young to have strong convictions and develop a feminist consciousness.

it definitely gives me hope too whenever i see younger girls who are aware of and unlearning the harms of femininity, because our culture really is becoming more misogynistic with escalating rigid beauty standards and normalized porn culture. the whole “big titty goth gf” thing you mentioned, ugh it makes me so uncomfortable and depressed how normalized memetic phrases that like that are, like “big mommy milkers” and shit like that. i definitely worry about the younger generation, and i just hope that the worse things get the more women and girls will be unable to tolerate them and begin that process of questioning. my mom was telling me that this year more of her female students than ever before are writing their social issue research papers on topics like beauty standards, social media’s impact on self esteem, even one girl tackling prostitution and the nordic model. i hope something is shifting.

also, i hope you can take steps to be less “crypto” in some areas and find some feminist community! i def understand the stress of fearing ostracism for your beliefs

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marvels-writings · 4 years

Text

Late Birthdays

Gwen Stacy (Spider-Woman) Masterlist

Requested by @xxxtwilightaxelxxx : Well what about a gwen Stacy one, like she was supposed to take yn on a date for her bday but there was trouble somewhere and yn hadn't told her ( doesn't know she's a superhero) so yn thinks she's just forgotten and Gwen comes back and she tries to apologise but yn is really sad and everything about it since this was gonna be the first time she really celebrated it with someone that wasn't family? And in the end Gwen reveals shes spider gwen (spider woman?!?!) Like shes still wearing the outfit but has like a hoodie over it or something and yeah shes gives her a cute gift. Hope that wasn't too much lol

Word Count: 2,373 (long but angsty and fluffy in the end)

A/N: This took me two days, a sprained elbow and literally two hours of frustration but oh so worth it

Streamers and balloons filled the walls, music played from the corner of your room as the smell of pizza filled the air. Most of your guests had already arrived, they were making their way through the food and complimenting the decorations Gwen and her band had set up earlier.

You had never been one to make a big deal about your birthday, but your girlfriend and her band had managed to convince you otherwise. So far, it was turning out better than you expected. All you needed now was for Gwen to finally arrive, she was supposed to come with MJ but they were already late.

“Happy birthday!” MJ wished, grinning as you opened the front door. She held a small bag in her hands, you grinned and pulled her into a tight hug before taking her inside. There was no one with her, you assumed Gwen would be coming soon.

“Thank you!” You grinned, opening the bag when she slapped your hand, putting it away for later. You rolled your eyes at her antics as she slung one arm over your shoulder. The redhead had been one of your closest friends, she had been the one to introduce you to Gwen.

“So who else is coming?” MJ asked, walking inside to greet the rest of your guests. She bit her lip, checking her phone for texts from Gwen. The blonde wasn’t replying to any of her frantic texts, she was going to be too late.

“The rest of the band,” You gestured to the girls who stood in the corner, trying to steal pizza from someone else. “a few other friends and my girlfriend.”

The redhead raised an eyebrow while picking up a slice. Gwen had gone official with you only a few weeks before, she was surprised you were already calling her your girlfriend.

“By girlfriend, you mean the dorky guitarist in our band?” MJ joked, you laughed and slapped her shoulder playfully.

“Yep.” You nodded, picking up a slice, and enjoying your birthday.

The party progressed, you frantically asked MJ when Gwen would arrive.

But the redhead didn’t know either, she tried to distract you from it though. But you heard some of the people talking about how you’d showed off about your girlfriend who never showed up.

The blonde should have been there hours ago. You remembered vividly how she was eagerly planning the party for your birthday. Gwen was not the kind of person to stand someone up like this. Especially since she knew how much this meant to you. This was one of the few times you had a party, but this was the first time you were dating someone who organized the party.

It meant a lot to you, it made it hurt even more to know she missed it.

But you didn’t know why she was missing it. Today was one of the few times Gwen was hoping nothing would come up. But an idiot was robbing the bank and causing a ruckus with a hostage situation. Gwen had gone in thinking it would take a few minutes, but guns and hostages too longer than she had thought.

Once it was all over, she looked at her watch to see she had missed your party by hours. There was no way you’d been waiting for her this long. Gwen loved being spider woman, but she wished it didn’t take so much her of her time away from you.

“Damnit,” Gwen cursed, unzipping her bag quickly. It was hours after she was supposed to be there for your birthday.

The cupcake in her bag was slightly crushed, but the necklace she had gotten you was still there. There wasn’t enough time for her to change, she put on her spare white hoodie over the suit. From afar, it looked like just a hoodie and a pair of leggings, nothing like a spider suit.

Running as fast as she could, she made her way to your door. Eventually stopping her panting, she knocked on your door rapidly, hoping you would open up. She had promised to attend your party then go somewhere with you afterward.

But she had let you down.

“Look who finally showed up.” You remarked, raising an eyebrow at her. Gwen winced at your hard expression. You had the right to be furious with her and shut her out, maybe even break up with her. But she hoped you wouldn’t, even if she couldn’t tell you why she missed what was important to you.

“Y/N, I’m sorry-” She began to apologize, but you weren’t listening.

You had already turned around after trying to slam the door in her face. Gwen stopped the door with her foot and walked inside. All of the decorations she had helped set up were still there, but everyone had left. The food was eaten, the cake was gone, the balloons were on the ground after being hit around for hours.

“Save it,” You sneered, sitting down in a chair.

“I had to celebrate with the people who thought my girlfriend was coming.” You gestured to the mess of streamers and balloons around you. The despondence and the embarrassment of the whole situation flowing out of your mouth.

“Every person who came, they asked me when you’re coming.” You glared at her, sighing and sitting down on the chair. “You stood me up, Gwen.”

“I know,” Gwen sighed, moving to stand in front of you.

When you didn’t look up, she knelt in front of you, her hands resting on your knees. You refused to look her in the eyes. The anger was clear, you were hurt when she didn’t show up. You hated shouting at her, being angry with her. But you were hurt, badly.

“I didn’t mean to, some things just came up.” She confessed, biting her lip when she noticed her secret almost left her.

You deserved to know why she left randomly whenever you were spending time together, you deserved to know more than anyone. But if she told you, if you got hurt because of her, she couldn’t live with another regret.

“Clearly ‘things’ are more important,” You scowled, pushing her hands away from your knees. “why did you even bother showing up?”

“Because I care!” Gwen exclaimed, stepping away from you but still trying to make eye contact with you. You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow, turning angrier by the second.

“Do you?” You scoffed, unbelieving. Gwen looked at you pleadingly, almost begging you to forgive her. Blue eyes stared at your face but you refused to look at her.

“Yes,” She insisted, reaching into her bag.

“I brought you something,” The blonde continued rummaging in her bag, trying to take out the cupcake. Some icing got on her hands, she winced at the feeling.

“Gwen, I don’t care.” You sighed, your words stopping her movements. Your girlfriend turned to face you, an apologetic look on her face. You sighed and leaned forwards.

“Whatever you were doing before is more important, just.” Biting your lip, you shut your eyes hard to prevent your tears from breaking out.

“Can I at least know what you were doing?” You asked, tilting your head to the side curiously. There had to be a decent reason she wasn’t there for you. Some explanation as to why she ran off at random times. You wanted to know.

“No,” Gwen answered instantly, surprising you. There was a conflict in her eyes, but her decision seemed final.

“Then why are you even here?!” You shouted, anger bubbling to the surface. Whatever was more important to her than you, there was no reason for her to be here.

Thoughts raced in Gwen’s head. You should know why it seemed only right for you to know. There still would be the risk of you getting hurt because of her. But protecting you from that by not telling you seemed selfish, especially after seeing how much she had already hurt you.

“If what you refuse to tell me was so important-”

“I’m spider woman,” Gwen stated, cutting you off. You raised your eyebrows and scoffed.

“And I’m Batman.” You quipped, dead serious.

“I’m serious,” The blonde said, biting her lip as not to laugh at your response.

“No, you’re not,” You sighed, about to leave when Gwen quickly took off her hoodie to reveal the suit underneath. The hoodie was discarded on the side as the blonde remained in the suit, the mask peeking out from the hoodie pocket.

You’d never seen spider woman in person, only a few times when you thought you were being followed. But you’d seen her on the news. The entire city seemed to believe she had killed Peter Parker. You’d been friends with Peter, you knew he had poisoned himself, spider woman had been trying her best, Gwen had been trying her best.

“Holy shit you’re spider woman?!” You exclaimed, surprise and shock filling you. The suit was skintight, you bit your lip as your eyes moved over her.

“I couldn’t come because some idiot decided to rob a bank to celebrate your birthday.” Gwen sighed, looking down in embarrassment.

“Honestly,” You chuckled, running a hand through your hair. “that’s the reasoning I expected the least.”

Gwen lifted the mask, fidgeting with it as she thought about your words. You’d thought of more reasons than her.

“What did you expect?” Your girlfriend asked curiously.

“I don’t know,” You shrugged, leaning against the dining table. “you forgot, your car broke down and you refused to walk,

“Nothing as good as this anyway.” You finished, gesturing to her suit.

“So,” Gwen bit her lip and lifted the mask a little.” you’re okay with this?”

Her eyes gauging your reaction carefully. She wasn’t sure what to expect. Her fear was you would push her away, consider her a murder. But you seemed to be surprised, sarcastic even. The anger from before was still visible, but there was more surprise than anger now.

“My girlfriend is kicking people’s asses every day and is on the news secretly,” You smiled as you watched your girlfriend giggle. “why wouldn’t I be?”

“Thank you for not asking if you can tell everyone.” Gwen laughed, shaking her head as she remembered MJ’s reaction. The redhead had been found out by accident when the mask had torn. Her reaction had been disastrous, she had almost let the entire block know she was spider woman by screaming.

“God no, I’m not that dumb.” You muttered, a small smile on your face. The frustration in the air had faded. Neither of you knew where to go from here. Gwen wanted to make this up to you, but she wasn’t sure how to ask you.

Glancing at her bag, an idea came to her. The present and cupcake was still unrevealed, she could give it to you before making it up to you.

“Close your eyes,” Gwen said, you turned to face her in confusion.

“What, why?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“So I can make it up to you.” She smirked, you rolled your eyes and obeyed.

“Fine,” You grumbled, closing your eyes and clamping your hands over them.

“Open them on the signal,” Gwen instructed, rummaging in her bag.

The box with the necklace had a little icing on it, she hastily rubbed it away and pulled out the cupcake. The box for it was completely crushed, the icing was everywhere. Gwen tried to fix it, straightening up the wrapper and trying to make it look presentable.

When she set everything up, she smirked as she thought of a signal. Leaning in towards you, she kissed you gently on the lips. Fear you might still be angry began to fill her until she felt you kiss back, hand coming up to cup her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into you, sighing softly. Out of breath, she pulled away, a hot blush on her cheeks.

“We should test that signal more often.” You remarked, a smug grin on your face as you opened your eyes.

“Shut up,” Gwen laughed, handing you the small necklace and the slightly crushed cupcake.

You laughed at her reaction and opened the necklace box. Inside, there was your birthstone on a golden chain. The chain wasn’t too fancy, it was minimalistic enough to wear anywhere. You twirled it on your hands, watching it shine in the light.

“I was originally gonna get the ring but then it looked too much like an engagement ring,” Gwen explained, scratching the back of her neck bashfully.

“It’s better this way,” You marveled at it before handing it to her. “help me put it on?”

Gwen moved to stand behind you, easily undoing the clasp and putting it on. She tapped the side of your neck when she was done, letting you put your hair back on your neck.

“Did you bake that?” You asked about the cupcake on the table.

Gwen hummed as she finished putting on the necklace. You moved to take a bite of it, eyes widening at the taste as you turned to face her.

“Wow, spider woman, a cute necklace and a muffin,” You grinned, finishing the cupcake. “I got the whole package.”

“Sorry, the package came late.” Gwen apologized, shuffling her feet with a small smile on her face. It seemed your anger was gone, but her guilt remained. But there were ways she could make it up to you.

“I can make it up to you with a date.” She said, smiling at you.

“I think I’d like that.” You replied, reaching forwards and taking her hand. Your girlfriend squeezed your hand gently. Her strength just enough to make you feel safe, never to hurt you.

“It wasn’t a question babe,” Gwen said, pecking you on the cheek and leading you out. You laughed and followed her out.

The rest of the day, Gwen spent spoiling you. You went around the city, pointing out random things you wanted to do or buy. The blonde eagerly bought them for you, doing whatever you wanted to do.

You couldn’t have asked for anything more, the frustration had faded away into happiness at being around her. Every second of it was amazing.

Gwen had let you down a little, but she still made sure you had the best birthday. After all, you were her girlfriend.

A/N: HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAYY! And please tell me what you think!

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @wlw-imaginesss , @hcartbyheart , @summergeezburr , @imnotasuperhero , @a-stressedstudent , @aaron-despair , @rooskaya-yelena let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

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pl-panda · 3 years

Text

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 14

MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 14

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“Tt. I will cut that stupid harlot into pieces.” Damian scowled. He, Allegra, Claude, Jon, Felix, Marinette, and Chloé sat at one of the prime tables in the cafeteria. His wife just finished telling them what happened after the initiation meeting.

“Maybe we don’t immediately jump to murder?” Claude suggested.

“I agree. We don’t have a place to hide a body yet.” Chloé supplied.

“That’s not what… nevermind.” Allegra sighed.

“Dami! I appreciate the thought, but maybe keep it as plan Z?”

“Plan Z is where I need more than one body bag.” He grumbled but nodded. “But we can postpone it.”

“Okay. Let’s act rationally and focus on prevention. Teachers will be useless.” Felix chose to act as the voice of reason.

“I really hoped it would be different than Paris…” Marinette moaned.

“It is. If they actually catch her, she will be expelled. But you’re not exactly the headmaster’s favorite person while Erica seems to be held high by him. We would need a solid proof and she is cunning.” Claude explained.

“Remember Lucy Hunt?” Allegra asked. “She did something to attract Erica’s wrath and she had to move to Metropolis after she had a mental breakdown. Nothing was ever proven and to the naked eye it would look like a series of coincidences.”

“So she is smarter than Lila?” The shorter Parisian asked, worried about what was to come.

“Nah. She just knows how to talk with the right people.” Claude dismissed.

“First order of business would be to ensure she has nothing real to hurt you with.” Felix started.

Damian and Marinette shared a worried gaze before the boy spoke. “The site is foolproof. Drake made sure to use some of the best technology we have to protect it. Not even a super AI can hack it.” He subtly nodded his head to where Max and Markov ate. Kim and Alix were with them. The skater girl looked really upset. “Same with social media. Short of an alien invasion or if someone physically broke into where we hid the servers, you’re safe on that front.”

It clearly took a lot of weight from her shoulders.

“Okay, now onto blackmail?”

“Tt. That’s not something to discuss where we can be overheard.” Damian quickly shut that topic down.

“Right. Sorry.” Jon rubbed the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry, Kent. I’m covering that front.” Chloé smirked.

“That’s great…” Claude started, but then pointed toward another table, with quite a lot of people. “Is that Erica… and you said that Sausage Hair was Layla Bossi?”

“Lila Rossi,” Chloé corrected him. “But I like Lie-la Bossi better now.”

“They seem… friendly..” Jon commented when the two girls hugged.

“I would actually expect them to be rivals, given that both want Damian,” Allegra noted.

“Are they… crying?” Marinette asked.

“Crocodile tears.” Felix glared at them. “They are up to something. I don’t…” He never got to finish, because a purple butterfly descended from the ceiling and landed on Erica’s ring. The corrupted energy surrounded her momentarily and when it died out, her whole appearance was changed.

She now wore a black one-piece cheerleader uniform, similar to what GA cheerleaders wore, except it was black with red lines and not lilac with a white finish. On her chest, there was, in a jagged script, written ‘Gargoyle’. Her face was now in a light shade of red, with tear stains permanently etched on her cheeks. Her eyes were entirely white. Her blonde hair was turned into a messy mane and two horns stood proudly on her forehead. Her lower legs turned into that of a goat, complete with hooves. She was now holding a whip in one hand and a burning pompon in the other. Small wings were folded on her back.

“A succubus! +10 to charisma and +5 to strength!” A small Asian girl shouted from the nearby table.

“I am Weeping Gargoyle!” The Akuma spoke. “I’ve been used by the one I held dear and now I’m going to get what I was denied. But first,” the creature turned to Marinette and her friends. “You! I’m going to deal with you!”

“Frick frack I lost me…” Claude started some rhymed joke, but a fireball sailing toward them shut him up.

Thinking quickly, Marinette flipped over the table to use it as an impromptu cover. Damian kicked the ground and a sword popped from next to his chair. Nobody had time to question how he hid it there because everyone scattered. There was nowhere to transform in all the havoc.

“What’s going on here?” Headmaster Hammer walked through the front doors to the cafeteria to see a demonic cheerleader tossing flaming pompons that exploded. “Teenagers.” He growled. From under his cloak, he drew a saber and took a battle stance. “Fiend!” He rushed at her. The whip slashed at him, but the headmaster deflected it with an incredible show of swordsmanship. This created an opening for Damian to charge from the other side. He managed to dodge the flaming ball and slice at her hand. At the last moment, the wing shielded the Akuma and his blade bounced off without leaving the slightest cut. The headmaster was met with the same fate.

“Stupid men!” The Akuma shouted. A ring of fire exploded from her, pushing and burning both of the attackers.

“Run.” Headmaster snapped at Damian. “I’ll hold her off.”

“Tt. You’re old. Get to safety.” The boy snapped back.

“You’re so getting detention for this!” Hammer scowled as the two dodged their separate ways.

“Hey! The tryouts are in the gym!” A voice spoke from a hole in the roof. A spotted heroine leaped from the hole while throwing a yo-yo at the Akuma. The cheerleader shielded with her wings before flapping them and lifting from the ground.

“You’re not who I want! I’ll get your miraculous later!” She flew through the same hole the heroine entered through. The whole cafeteria was now on fire. Ladybug met Damian’s gaze for a moment before grabbing the headmaster and jumping outside. He was in bad condition from all the smoke.

She laid him on the ground to make sure he was okay. He coughed several times before the professor was able to speak correctly. “What about the brat!”

“I’m going in now.”

“No need.” Black Cat appeared next to them. “I got him out. We’re lucky the main doors were still working because the rooftop fell apart after I entered.”

“Cat! The Akuma will be on her ring. It was what created all the fire.”

“Tt. Let’s go.” The two jumped away from the headmaster, who hid a small smile.

-----------

Three girls and two boys snuck around the campus. Most of the students were already evacuated, but they managed to stay undetected and remain in the action area.

“I still think we shouldn’t go after a supervillain.” Kyle tried, but Maps made a gesture that told him to stop speaking.

“Sh! I’m telling you, it was Erica. A butterfly landed on her and she suddenly transformed into that monster.”

“I read about it. It was a demon. The Lord of Butterflies sent it to take her over. If we aren’t careful, it will turn all of us into that monster.”

“Olivia? You’ve got the crossbow?”

“Please. Demon? Lord of Butterflies?” Colton criticized. “Are you sure it wasn’t just some manga?”

“Shut up! How else would you explain what happened to Erica?” Pomeline asked. “It’s obviously dark magic.”

“Okay. Assuming it is dark magic, how are we supposed to protect ourselves? I’m pretty sure I don’t have tinfoil hats on me.”

“Fool. The only thing that can protect you from the Lord of Butterflies are positive emotions.” She spoke like it was an obvious fact, yet still making it sound ominous.

Abruptly, the wall they were hiding behind exploded, and a girl dressed in a skintight red and black outfit flew past them. A boy in assassin garb followed. He landed on his feet and started to spin a staff fast enough to create a shield. Several fireballs flew at him, but they all smashed into the shield harmlessly.

He noticed them cowering behind the wall.

“Tt. What are you doing here!? Get away! Now!”

Ladybug jumped up and leaped from behind him, throwing her yoyo. It wrapped over the leg of the villain and pulled the flying Akuma down. Cat charged past his partner and smashed her with his baton like it was a baseball bat, sending her into the wall.

“Lucky Charm!” The heroine tossed the yo-yo above her head and a red-and-black watermelon fell into her arms. With only a moment’s hesitation, she tossed it to Cat, who already knew what to do. Once more playing baseball, he redirected the watermelon over to the akuma. She just managed to get it together when the fruit landed on her horns and got stuck. The change of weight made her fall, which Ladybug used to dash toward her and tie her with her own whip. She then pulled the ring from her finger and crushed it in her hand.

A purple butterfly escaped her grasp, which she caught into her yo-yo.

“Bye Bye little butterfly.” She then grabbed the watermelon and tossed it high in the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

The item exploded into a swarm of glowing bugs that fixed everything there was to fix. It looked like the supervillain never attacked.

“What… I…” Erica was back to normal and very confused. “There was… I remember…”

“Don’t worry. The paramedics will be with you shortly.” Ladybug calmed her. There was a bit of cold in her voice, but it was probably because she just finished fighting her a moment ago.

“I told you it’s magic.” Pomeline grinned victoriously while she whispered at Colton.

“Ehm.” Suddenly, the group was startled by the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them. “Mind explaining to me why are you here and not evacuated with everyone else?”

“Oh! Um… You see…” Maps started, but Pomeline was too focused on something else. “Where did you learn magic! Can you teach me?! I mean we go to school here and I want to help if Lord of Butterflies and his Demons attack again!”

“Lord of Butterflies?” Ladybug walked to them and asked, again startling the whole group.

“Yes. There was an old book in the library. I managed to decipher part of it and it spoke of the Lord of Butterflies and Demons he sent to possess people. But there is only so far a translator on my phone could take me. I’m not exactly fluent in Mandarin.”

“Can you lead us to it?” The superheroine was showing almost too much interest.

“Will you teach me magic?” Pomeline tried to bargain.

“Tt. You will take us there or we return with the police and you will take us there.” Black Cat was not in the mood. Blackmail was the last thing he wanted right now.

“Fine.” The girl scoffed and led them toward the library.

“How did you summon a watermelon?” The smallest girl asked zooming over to Ladybug. “Are you a summoner? I never played a summoner. They have some nice spells I suppose…”

Ladybug, against herself, giggled at the girl’s antics. She also noted in the corner of her eyes that Damian was also smiling under the hood.

Nobody noticed when Erica slipped away.

-------

The library was large and dusty. It didn’t look like many people came here.

“It’s the old building. When Bruce Wayne funded a new library with new books, they decided to just keep the old one as an archive. Now only people that come here are us and Mr. Scarlet.”

“The new library totally had nothing to do with Damian Wayne getting expelled for the fourth time.” Colton joked and Ladybug giggled when Black Cat muttered a curse under his breath.

“The book was in the back. I didn’t want to move it…”

When they turned the corner, they saw a woman in a blue and purple dress standing over a book with a tablet. She was taking pictures of the pages. Her skin was blue and her hair purple.

The group immediately pressed against the wall, and Pom pulled a handheld mirror to take a look around the corner without risk of being spotted. Meanwhile, Ladybug and Black Cat looked at one another and their faces took a serious expression. There was a kind of silent dialogue going on between them and they both nodded at the same time. In complete silence, Cat used his staff to up and meld with the shadows. Only his green eyes were visible until they too disappeared.

Ladybug opened her Yo-Yo like a phone and took a photo of the feathered villain. She was turned to them, but even something as simple as that could be a major help. Kwami bless magical phones for making perfect pictures without a flash.

With the proof needed, she aimed her yo-yo, spun it twice around before throwing it forward. The projectile sailed true and wrapped around her arm holding the tablet. The villainess was surprised and let go of the tool as Ladybug yanked on the line and made her opponent lose balance. That was the cue for Black Cat, who swooped from the ceiling, snatched the tablet, and leaped back into the shadows.

“Ugh! Stupid peasants!” The Peacock cursed. Instead of freeing her hand, she allowed the fan to slip into her hand and unfolded it. She tried to pull on the yo-yo’s line and make her opponent fly to her. It worked, but Ladybug twisted mid-air and came at the villainess feet first in a kick. The blue woman had to block it, but she still held the line. The heroine used it for her advantage and flipped the line over Peacock’s neck and started to choke her. It also held her in place. Black Cat, who already deposited the tablet in a safe place, swept down and tried to grab the brooch, but he got kicked back by an angry woman, fighting for a breath.

Peacock folded her fan and swiped at the line, cutting it and making Ladybug fall on her back. The Villainess took a deep breath and looked around to analyze her situation. She was outnumbered and the element of surprise was still on her opponents’ side. Even without the yo-yo, Ladybug was a formidable foe and she wasn’t sure who the new Black Cat was. She had a silent suspicion, but nothing solid.

“Until we meet again, fools.” She leaped up and onto the shelves. Cat went in pursuit, but she saw the kids hidden behind one of the shelves and purposefully made it fall when she jumped onto it. The kids didn’t have enough time to scatter. Predictably, Black Cat went to save the kids.

He pushed Maps from under the falling shelf but got stuck there himself. His suit and enhanced body could withstand it, but not his bruised ego.

“Don’t be a grumpy cat. We’ve got her tablet.” Ladybug stood over him and grinned before helping him stand up.

“Tt. We might have our first lead.” He grinned.

“Let’s go check the book itself. The fact she was after it makes me think it has more value than I first suspected.”

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Masterlist // Next

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wistfulcynic · 4 years

Text

wild nights are my glory

Sunday night smut, anyone? Here’s a little canon divergence, 3B with no second curse, Emma and Killian and a stormy night on the Jolly Roger.

Rating: M Words: 4.2k Tags: canon divergence, smut, season 3 divergence, mild angst, many feelz, tattoos and tattoo appreciation

On AO3

The Jolly Roger creaks as the wind whips around her, groans as the waves lap roughly at her hull, and in his cabin Killian sits with his flask and his thoughts and the thrill in his blood that storms still inspire even after centuries. It’s a particularly wild one tonight but Killian is untroubled by that; he’s had many a wild night in his time and he knows his old girl can weather this one just as she has all the others. What’s troubling him is a storm of a different sort, and he lifts his flask to his lips and drinks deep as he tries not to think about the last time the Jolly was buffeted by such winds as these. Tries, without success.

…the first mate’s cabin was smaller than his and he could hear more distinctly all the rattles and protests of the Jolly’s old wood as they flew away from Neverland. Though it was only the third time his ship had flown, she was far older now than she had been those first two, and Killian was determined to keep an attentive ear out for anything that sounded off.

A knock came faintly but sharply at the door, and he barely had time to say “Come in” before it was creaking open the merest sliver and then shutting again behind Emma Swan.

“Swan?” He frowned as she approached him, trepidation in her eyes but the set of her jaw resolute. “Is everything all ri—“

She cut him off with her lips on his, as sweet and as demanding as they had been back in that accursed jungle. He gasped in surprise and she seized the advantage of his parted lips, slipping her tongue between them to slide against his, slick and hot and wrenching a groan from his chest as his fingers sank without his volition into her hair and she tilted her head to deepen the kiss still further.

His own head spun, his blood pounding as he groped for control, for sanity—as the woman who’d been plaguing his dreams ever since that bloody beanstalk pressed her body to his and dragged her lips and teeth down his neck.

“Swan,” he groaned. “Emma. What are you—”

“Shhhh,” she hissed against his collarbone. “Don’t talk. If you talk, you’ll ruin it.”

“But, love—”

“Are you going to say no, Hook? Because if not, shut up.”

“But—”

“Shut. Up.”

She pulled his mouth to hers again and he let her, kissed her back with every ounce of the passion she stirred in him and with the other, more troubling emotions that he knew she wouldn’t care to know about. These feelings—the awe, the tenderness, the indescribable pleasure of having a woman he treasured in his arms, after centuries of empty encounters—Killian feared them nearly as much as she did, knowing that he would be all the worse off for having felt them once they were gone. And they would be gone, far sooner than he wished, of that he was certain.

But for now Emma was here, her skin smooth beneath his fingers, slick and wet when he slipped those fingers between her legs—softer than the finest Agrabahni silks, the most precious treasure he’d ever plundered. He ached to taste her, to linger over that silken skin and pleasure her for hours, but this was neither the time nor the place and the almost desperate haste in Emma’s touches told him plainly that she wouldn’t welcome lingering or the kind of worship he longed to lavish on her. So instead he simply stroked her as her fingers fumbled at the laces of his trousers then shoved them down—then her hand was on his cock, gripping it firmly, and he couldn’t choke back a heaving groan. Dimly he felt her leg wrap around his hip, the pressure of her fingers on his cock as she guided him, the rumble of her groan melding with his as he pushed inside her.

Her face was pressed into his neck, her fingers clenched tight in his hair as he moved within her, hard and fast and rougher than he wished. He had no thoughts beyond how good it all felt—his fingers tangled in her golden tresses, their scent in his nose, her moans in his ear, the heat of her skin and his own fierce pleasure at feeling her around him tight and warm and wet—and the helpless certainty that whatever small chance he may have had of breaking free of this infatuation was long gone now—he was hers, completely and for all the time that may remain to him in this life.

Her breath hitched and her grip on him tightened as she began to come, and as he tumbled right behind her, Killian vowed that in this, for once, he would not be selfish. Anything Emma needed he would do his best to give her, whatever the cost to himself. Securing her happiness, her future, that was all that mattered…

Which left him here, thinks Killian wryly, holed up on his ship with his rum and his thoughts, the memories he can’t escape, while Emma is with her family, her son and her parents. And Neal.

It’s for the best, he reminds himself. Families should be together. And if he can ensure for Emma that measure of love and security by ceasing his pursuit of her, well that is what he intends to do.

The wind howls and the Jolly creaks, and Killian shivers as he sips his rum. Even the burn of the alcohol is not enough to keep him warm on this stormy night. He should really go to bed, dig out an extra blanket and quit this pointless brooding, enjoy a rare occasion when he can relax his vigilance and sleep soundly, secure in the knowledge that he is in a place where very few dangers, relatively speaking, lurk in wait for him.

Pan is gone, trapped forever in Pandora’s box. The Crocodile and he have buried their hatchet—and not in Killian’s skull. He’s beginning to settle into this Storybrooke, to become accustomed to their odd ways and lay the foundations for a life here. The few weeks since their return from Neverland have been pleasant on the whole, marred only by a distinct lack of Emma and those small but painful twinges just beneath his heart whenever he’s reminded that she and Neal have been spending quite a bit of time together.

He drains his flask in one swallow and tosses it aside before rising easily to his feet and wishing, just for a moment, that he were drunker. His coat and vest he has long since removed and now he strips off his shirt and boots as well, neatly folding the one and placing the others next to the bed, then gives himself a quick wash at his basin before beginning to unlace his trousers. The wind is whistling shrilly and Killian is deep in his thoughts, and that is perhaps why he doesn’t hear the sound of boots on the deck or perceive the presence of another person on his ship until she flings open the door of his cabin and marches inside, windswept and breathless and beautiful.

“Swan!”

Killian gapes, wondering wildly if his moody thoughts have somehow conjured her, not missing the way her eyes widen at the sight of him standing there in such a state of undress, how they follow the trail of a water droplet as it trickles down his chest. During their encounter his clothing remained mostly on, his trousers shoved down but the rest intact—this is the first time Emma has seen him so bare.

He can feel the flush in his cheeks, the heat rising up his neck and pooling in his groin as she openly ogles him, biting down on her lip in a way that makes him long to do the same. He clears his throat.

“Is everything all right?” he asks. “Do you require my assistance with something?”

“Tattoos,” she murmurs.

“I—beg your pardon?”

“Hmmm?” Her teeth sink deeper into the pink flesh of her lip and Killian grinds his teeth.

“Is there something I can do for you, Swan?” he asks, sharply enough that she looks up and meets his eyes.

“Yeah,” she says. “There is.”

She crosses the room in two strides and runs her hand up his chest, curls it around the back of his neck and tugs his mouth to hers. Killian groans but he’s barely even reached for her before she’s pulling away, whipping off her jacket and sweater then pressing close to him again, twining her arms around his neck as she kisses him. The feel of her bare skin against his own, the soft brush of her hair on his shoulder and her tongue in his mouth—he’s helpless to resist it, or to deny her what she’s come to seek from him.

Their hands on each other are frantic, uncoordinated. Killian vaguely recalls that he’s generally much better at this—when he’s not with Emma, that is, not overcome by the need to touch and taste and feel. He tugs at the scrap of lace covering her breasts with his hook, hears it rip—he supposes he should care about this but then her nipple is in his mouth, hard and pebbled against his tongue, and the noise Emma makes when he nips at it is nearly his undoing. She shoves him away to kick off her boots and shimmy free of those skintight trousers she wears and then Emma Swan is bare before him, and Killian wonders if it’s possible to perish from wanting.

Her eyebrows rise in an expectant look and he quickly shucks his own trousers, then stands straight and lets her see the whole of him, heat creeping up his cheeks again as she boldly surveys his naked form. Her fingers brush lightly across his skin, up his sides and over his chest, tracing the patterns he’s had inked there—centuries’ worth of them, some faded and others bright, jumbled together in the story of his life.

He holds his breath awaiting her reaction but she says nothing, simply wraps her arms around him and kisses him. He groans against her lips and lifts her up, tumbles them both onto the bed, rolling her beneath him as his own hand explores the dips and curves of her body. She cradles him between her thighs, rolls her hips to wet his cock with her arousal, and he wants, oh he wants, to build up to this, to take his time, to make her come at least twice with his fingers and his tongue before he seeks his own release within her—but her nails are scoring deep gashes in his back and there’s a desperate catch in her throat as she whispers “Please… please, Killian…” and so with a groan he sinks into her, giving them both what they most deeply crave.

It’s hard and it’s fast, though still slower than their first time, with no frantic rush for fear of interruption or any need to stifle the noises they make. Emma’s firm thighs grip his hips and the muscles of her stomach flex as she lifts her own to meets his thrusts, driving him near to madness. Strength wrapped in softness is Killian’s weakness, it always has been—and better still when the strength encases something even softer. Emma’s warm heart and the depth of her capacity for love is a thing he longs for as much as he does her body, and the bittersweet bliss of knowing the one without the other claws at his heart even as he groans his release into her hair, as he feels her clench and flutter around him, her arms drawn taut as they hold him close.

When he rolls away they tighten further—just briefly but he takes heart from it and wraps an arm around her before she can slip away, pulling her flush against his chest.

“Stay awhile,” he murmurs, soft against her temple. “Just… stay.”

There’s tension in her body for a moment, then she relaxes and gives a nod. “Okay,” she whispers, so quietly he can barely hear her, but there can be no mistaking the way she snuggles closer, tucking her head beneath his chin and resting her hand on his chest, her fingers playing absently through the hair on it.

He wants to ask her why she’s here when she should be with her family, snuggled up safely with them on this stormy night. He wants to ask but also isn’t sure he’d like the answer, and as they drift together into a slumbrous daze it’s as though a spell weaves itself around them, delicate as a spider’s web, and he is loath to do anything that may break it.

Emma’s fingertips begin to trace along the lines of ink on his chest, following them up to his shoulder and back again, then down his torso to where they curl around his hip.

“What do all of these mean?” she murmurs.

“Various things.” His voice is gruff, with the pain of the memories and the pleasure of her touch. “Some are simply things I found appealing. Others are for commemoration, of battles and other events.”

“Battles? Really?”

“I was in Neverland for a long time, love, and Pan is far from the only unpleasant creature who once resided there. Do you see this?” He indicates a round scar on his abdomen, puckered and still pink even after nearly a century.

Emma frowns at it. “It looks like a bullet wound.”

“Aye, it does rather, but it isn’t. It’s where a manticore stabbed me with its tail.”

“With its tail?”

“They have tails like those of scorpions. Look, here he is.” Killian taps his hook on the image tattooed on his rib, of the lion-beast with the face of a man and an armoured, stinging tail. “Still not wholly certain how I survived that one.”

“Oh.” She traces the scar with her fingertip than leans down to kiss it. He catches his breath as her lips press gently on the raised skin, then the tip of her tongue traces the shape of the manticore, over the curve of the tail and then downwards, along the rope that leads to the broken anchor nestled in his hip.

“Why is it broken?” she murmurs, and Killian grits his teeth against the rush of sensation, the feel of her breath and her voice vibrating against his skin.

“Anchors… represent security,” he grinds out. “Home. And, well—”

“Yeah,” she says, and kisses the anchor. “I get it.”

His skin feels on fire as she drags her lips across it, so slowly it’s agonising, drifting down, down to where his cock is hard and throbbing and desperate for her touch.

“Emma,” he groans, and then her mouth closes around him and he is no longer capable of forming words or even coherent thoughts. All he can do is feel—the heat of her mouth, the soft stroke of her tongue, the pressure of her lips as she sucks him. It’s so good and too much and he can’t hold out against it, and far sooner than he would wish it he is there on the edge, ready to fall. He tries to tell her but the words won’t come—then she is sucking harder and swirling her tongue around his tip and his hand clenches in her hair, hips bucking helplessly as he comes.

It takes some time for him to recover; he lays panting and trembling as she kisses her way back up his body to rest her chin on his chest, and when at last he summons the strength to open his eyes she is watching him with a decidedly smug grin.

“I like having you at my mercy,” she says.

I am always at your mercy, he thinks but does not say. Instead he growls in the back of his throat and kisses her, pressing her into the mattress as he slips his hand between her legs. She’s wet again, gratifyingly so, as though fellating him was nearly as pleasurable for her as he had found it. This he can understand—he’s been desperate to taste her for some time now and this is a game at which two can definitely play.

He removes his fingers—smirking at her whimper of protest—and licks them clean as he holds her gaze, watching as a strange expression crosses her face.

“Oh,” she says, dropping her eyes. “You don’t have to.”

His heart twists as the confident, triumphant woman from just moments ago withers beneath the weight of what he imagines must be years of quick and dirty encounters with thoughtless men who lacked the sense to appreciate the treasure they had in her, and it breaks as he reflects again how similar they are.

“Turnabout is fair play, love,” he says, knowing that the tender reassurance he wants to give her would not be welcomed. “And I have wanted to know how you taste for quite some time now.”

Her eyes fly open and meet his, a bit shocked, a bit wary. A lot intrigued. “Have you?” she murmurs.

“Aye. I have. And so, with your permission?”

She hesitates then gives a tiny nod, and he responds with a quick, rough kiss before moving down her body, pressing kisses as he goes until he reaches the small tuft of dark gold hair at the juncture of her thighs. She’s done something to it, trimmed and shaped it, and while this isn’t the first time he’s encountered such practices he can’t help wondering a bit at the strangeness of this realm, where sex seems to be something carried out in whispers in the dark and yet personal grooming must adhere to rigid standards.

It hardly matters, though, not when he can smell her, musky and intense, making his head swim as he secures his arms beneath her legs, careful not to scratch her with his hook, and then finally—finally—tastes her.

She’s as delicious as he’s dreamed, more so, and the noise she makes when he licks deep through her swollen flesh fills him with both lust and fury. Fury that no one has ever done this for her before, not properly at least, and while she is plainly well-versed in the art of pleasuring a man with her mouth somehow none of the men she’s been with have seen fit to return the favour.

Their loss, thinks Killian viciously, and his gain—for it is his privilege now to be the one to feel her gasp and writhe beneath his lips and savour her on his tongue, and to know the pleasure of working her up ever so slowly, higher and higher, so high and so close that she clutches at his head and tugs at his hair, hissing garbled curses as she frantically pushes herself against his mouth.

When he knows he has her teetering just on the brink he licks hard at her pearl then sucks it between his teeth, glorying in her hoarse scream and the way her hips buck wildly beneath him as she comes. He licks her as she rides it out, until the tremors cease and her breathing evens, then rests his chin on her belly and smirks up at her. Her eyes flutter open and she gives a gasping laugh when she catches his eye.

“All right, all right,” she says. “We’re even.”

“Good.”

He crawls back up the bed to kiss her, deep and messy, until she’s writhing again and digging her nails into his back and then he presses the tip of his cock against her, pausing to give her the chance to say no. She lifts her hips and the tip slips inside, and the edges of Killian’s rational mind go hazy again as he pushes in to the hilt and she groans in pleasure.

He moves slowly this time, savouring her as he’s so long wished to, treasuring the little sighs and hums she makes in his ear and the way her hands roam his body. She traces the ridges of the scars on his back but does not flinch away, gently stroking the roughened skin as her mouth moves against his neck and her other hand buries itself in his hair.

Killian feels swamped with emotion, with love and wonder and joy and agony. He thought their first encounter would be their last and now that she’s here again, letting him touch her in ways he’s only dreamt of and giving him a glimpse of what they could have together, he’s already dreading the pain of letting her go again as he knows he must. He knows her, knows she’ll run from this, and he promises himself he won’t try to push for more than she can give, however much he yearns for it.

They fall softly this time but with resonance, bodies humming at the same frequency as ecstasy overcomes them. Once he’s back to himself Killian rolls again to his side but it’s Emma now who keeps him close, fitting her body to his so naturally it makes him want to weep, and he has to force himself not to squeeze her too tightly or let the words in his heart slip from his lips as he wraps her in his arms and strokes her hair.

“I can’t stay,” she whispers.

“I know.”

He lets a moment pass before seeking the answer he needs, though he does not want it. “Why did you come?’

“I missed you.”

He can tell she didn’t mean to say those words from the way her breath catches and her muscles tense, so he presses a kiss to her temple and murmurs “I missed you too.”

“Then why,” she cries, shoving at his shoulder. “Why haven’t you been around? I thought you’d left again, that’s how much I’ve seen of you since we got back.”

Killian swallows hard. There’s pain in her voice and he hates himself for causing it. “I didn’t wish to interfere with your family,” he says gruffly.

“That’s stupid,” she snaps. “I know you’ve been sparring with David, he told me so. And Mary Margaret—well, she’s a bit tougher maybe, but—”

“I didn’t mean your parents, love, I meant your son. And his—his father.”

She stares at him as comprehension dawns. “You think I want to get back with Neal,” she says flatly.

“Not necessarily, I just—didn’t wish to be an impediment if you did.”

“That explains why he’s been so smug,” she mutters. “But you’re an idiot.”

“I’ve destroyed a lot of families, Emma,” he says quietly. “Including Bae’s. I merely didn’t wish to harm another.”

“Well, you didn’t. You couldn’t. Neal destroyed whatever hope of a family we may have had when he left me pregnant in jail.”

Killian jerks back to stare at her. “He left you?”

“Uh huh. Pregnant with his kid and in jail for his crime.”

“Bloody hell,” he snarls.

“Yeah. Still want to step aside so we can play happy families?”

“Bugger that.” He brushes her hair back from her face, strokes her cheekbone with his thumb. “I’m sorry, Swan, I didn’t know.”

She shrugs. “No one does. But I’m not getting back with Neal, Killian, I can’t. I’ll always have some feelings for him but I can never trust him again. And I can’t have a relationship without trust.”

“Of course not.”

His chest tightens and he swallows again, though a throat gone desert dry. If she can’t trust her first love and the father of her child after one betrayal, however terrible, there’s no way she could ever trust the pirate she left at the top of a beanstalk, a man who turned on her more than once and in doing so nearly cost the life of her son. The fact that he later turned back and helped to right his wrong is far too small an act to balance the weight of all his other sins against her.

It’s what he deserves, he knows that, but that doesn’t make the taste of it less bitter as he forces a smile and says “Well, don’t let me keep you love, if you need to get back to Henry.”

“Oh. Yeah.” She blinks in surprise then frowns, but makes no move to leave the bed. The wind howls around the ship and rattles the ancient glass in the cabin windows. “Is it raining?” she asks.

He listens carefully until he can detect the faint patter of raindrops against the glass. “Aye, I think so.”

“Hmmm.” She still doesn’t stir but he gradually becomes aware that her fingers are moving, the tips trailing mindless patterns through the hair on his chest. His heart begins to pound. “Henry’s with Regina tonight,” she says. “Maybe—I might just stay a bit longer, until the rain lets up. If, um, if that’s okay?” She casts a glance up at him and he nearly chokes on his breath at what he sees in her eyes.

“Emma,” he breathes. “You must know, love—you can stay as long as you like.” Stay forever.

The smile that breaks across her face is bright with relief, warm and hesitantly happy. “Okay,” she says, and snuggles closer. “Okay.”

—

#cs fic #cs ff #cs canon divergence #captain swan #3B divergence #smut #mild angst #smut and feelings #tattoos #tattoo appreciation #wild nights are my glory #profdanglaisstuff

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happi-tree · 3 years

Text

On The Style and Effectiveness of 1-A Hero Costumes - Part 2/5

Part 2 of this post!

NAVIGATION

Part 1 2 3 4 5

INGENIUM / IIDA TENYA

It’s armor time!!! Behold a man.

What I don’t like:

The costume seems too bulky for a Quirk and fighting style that optimize speed. And while it’s true that cars are pretty bulky but still go fast, it’s equally true that certain types of cars are designed to go faster. The current design reminds me most of a semi or a big SUV, but if the costume was more streamlined along the lines of racecars or sports cars, it would help take off the extra weight that the bulk provides, leaving Iida lighter and more streamlined - therefore, faster.

Some examples of slimmer armor include Go Go Tomago’s from Big Hero 6 and Jim Lake Jr.’s from Trollhunters. And while I get that his body type inherently lends itself to being tank-like, lightening up on the bulk would probably be great for him.

The exhaust pipes out of his back confuse me. They bring some car energy, which is entirely welcome, but they likely hinder balance and motion, which is bad. They leave him looking a little unbalanced, and since so much of his strength and his fighting ability focuses on his lower body, having excess superficial material protruding out of the sides like that doesn’t seem to lend him any favors. And even while it looks cool, it just seems like it would be uncomfortable? Especially since a lot of runners - Iida included - like having full range of their arms to help propel them forward. The pipes might get in the way of that.

Here’s what I like:

The overall aesthetic. I love how this look both makes sense with Iida’s Quirk and personality and plays with elements of his older brother’s costume. It simultaneously puts across some knightly vibes - which is genius, considering how chivalrous and rule-following Iida typically is - and also calls to mind Transformers and cars with the emphasis on the engines and some of the more mecha elements.

The support! Armor is such an easy way to protect yourself while also getting some serious style points. His most essential areas are covered - neck, chest, arms, and legs - which is especially important considering that Iida’s legs are integral to his Quirk and his fighting style. The helmet is also a really good choice, considering this boy is essentially a human car. He looks a bit intimidating wearing it, which is good for fighting Villains, I suppose. Class dad is protected.

And a misc. note:

You know how after Iida’s special Recipro Burst move, he has to wait awhile while his engines cool back down? I think it would be really neat if he implemented some cooling technology into his Hero suit (similarly to Todoroki’s temperature-regulating gear). Theoretically, if he could find something that worked a bit like coolant for his engines, he would have a much quicker reaction time - and speed is the main facet of his Quirk, so it would probably help a lot!

Overall: Very good at providing protection while having a bomb-ass aesthetic. Not quite so good at being built for speed.

I CANNOT STOP TWINKLING / AOYAMA YUUGA

On the other side of the armored spectrum… we have this kid!

What I don’t like:

*Edna Mode voice* NO CAPE! Why do I not like the cape? Capes can snag on stuff very easily and it would be an easy thing for Villains to target and use to unbalance Aoyama. Longer capes are especially susceptible to getting trapped under rubble, torn up, or covered in gunk from the environment (which is not the Look he seems to like). I feel like a shorter cape would get a similar message across while minimizing the potential dangers that a long cape poses. Of course, Aoyama can be trained via experience to utilize his costume effectively with the full-length cape, but when his life and the lives of others are on the line, I’d rather not take that chance.

The shades. I get that they’re iconic, but they’re taking rose colored glasses a bit too seriously. 110% will fall off his face and also messes with the princely Vibe the rest of his costume provides. I do like their Elton John energy, though.

Not a bad thing, but I just want to know how his belt works.

Here’s what I like:

The overall aesthetic. I love how the costume’s obvious “princely knight” vibe reflects so much of Aoyama’s character.

The support here is also really good! Working the belt into the theme of his costume so seamlessly is very innovative and I love that for him. Getting the knee pads and shoulder pauldrons to match his central laser both adds to the uniqueness of the outfit and also pushes that royalty theme since they look very similar to inset gems.

The color scheme. Purple, silver, gold, and black look very classy and regal together, and I appreciate how the royal purple ties back into the concept of European royalty, which is very in-character for this boy. His pantaloon-looking things??? Neato.

Overall: Eh, okay. Ditch the glasses and shorten the cape. Superb, you funky lil knight light.

CREATI / YAOYOROZU MOMO

Here we are! I’m finally taking a crack at one of the most highly debated hero costumes in the entire show, and like a good portion of people, I’m gonna be extremely salty about it. Yaomomo doesn’t deserve this - none of the girls deserve this. These are my thoughts:

What I don’t like:

The absolute lack of support. For any aspect of her. Nothing about this costume is protective (other than maybe the partial high collar). Her most vulnerable areas are exposed, and while it makes sense for easy Quirk usage, it does not make sense for a girl who’s fighting homicidal maniacs on the front lines. The most glaring area in need of support is obviously her chest, as nothing substantial is holding her bust in place. However, so much could be done to work with the benefits of Creation and against its weaknesses that is not being done in this costume. I’ve seen quite a few redesigns that include a sports bra with a front zip closure, which is worlds better. With the show being set in the future, having a slightly mechanized costume with the ability to retract certain pieces at the press of a button would be useful and likely doable considering Yuuei’s own Support department. Gloves would probably be a good idea to give Yaoyorozu a better grip on harder-to-handle Created objects, such as heavy metal machinery.

The over-sexualization is, obviously, disgusting. Nothing about this costume says “Hero.” What it does say, in-universe, is that someone had the absolute gall to approve and send this outfit to a 15-year-old girl about to be thrown headfirst into training for an extremely dangerous profession. It says that giving a person in their freshman year of high school an overly sexualized outfit meant for combat training is okay (it isn’t, for reasons I can’t even begin to explain). This more closely resembles an outfit for a lingerie or swimsuit model than it does for any type of superhero, which alone should be enough to warrant some serious changes - especially, as I have stated, since the girl is only 15!

The overall aesthetic. There is no aesthetic reading for this costume other than “sexy”, which, as I explained above, is very problematic. Sure, the exposed skin makes sense for her Quirk, since she needs access to skin in order to produce items with Creation, but nothing about this outfit denotes anything about her personality. Yaoyorozu Momo is a gentle girl who has been shown to have self-esteem issues from early on in the show, and just knowing that makes me wonder if she feels uncomfortable wearing this. If she’s totally comfortable in this look, good for her! But comfort in our clothing factors so much into our mental states, which translates directly to our physical performance - it’s the same reason why having clothes that fit you and your style well make you feel more confident and more content. And especially if Yaoyorozu wasn’t quite expecting the amount of skin revealed when her costume was given to her, it could likely have added on to her self-esteem issues as seen early in the school year.

The skintight fit of what amounts to a glorified bathing suit is not conducive or acceptable whatsoever. With such a powerful Quirk, Yaoyorozu needs all the protective material she can get - which, as I said in Uraraka’s analysis, is quite simply not possible to fit under that bodycon fabric. Some padding at the very least would work wonders, and bulletproof material would serve her even better.

Once again, heels are not good for any kind of running or fighting! At least it’s a block heel, which is marginally more stable than, say, a stiletto, but still.

The literal bookshelf on her ass. It makes no sense to put it there - it’s an inconvenient place (what if she needs to sit down?) and it looks incredibly awkward to move around with. Besides, there’s absolutely nothing stopping that book from falling at the slightest jostle. At least give her a proper holster or implement it into a toolbelt like some of the boys have.

What’s with the belt? Can it hold emergency supplies? Or is it just there to make it seem like she’s wearing more than a deep v one-piece? I’m at a loss here.

Here’s what I like:

The color scheme. Deep red, white, and pale yellow look good on her! The color ratios are also pretty good in my opinion. Unfortunately, this is the only good thing I can say about her getup.

And to round us out, some misc. notes:

I feel like the book could be done away with entirely and replaced with something digital. This universe is set multiple centuries into the future, and I think something like a holographic data set would look slick, enable for faster search time for whatever info Yaoyorozu would need, and eliminate the bulk problem completely. At the very least, there could be a smartwatch-type gauntlet to pull up info with a larger screen to enable easy reading. Really, the lack of support for Yaoyorozu’s look is devastating because she could go so many directions in creating an outfit that works with her Quirk’s strengths and against its weaknesses.

Overall: Awful, a disgrace, and a disservice to one of the coolest, kindest characters in the class. I would kill for her to get the outfit she deserves.

INVISIBLE GIRL / HAGAKURE TOORU

Wow, look! Two travesties in a row! One more and I get a bingo!

Hagakure, I love you so much, and I am so, so sorry that the yahoos over at the Support company thought that this was a good idea.

What I don’t like:

Uh. The fact that there isn’t a costume. There is literally no in-universe rationalization for this. Surely, they have the technology. Just look at Lemillion! Togata Mirio’s Quirk is literally phasing through materials (including his own clothing) and they made him his own non-phaseable costume by weaving his own DNA into the fabric! Even if they don’t have the technology (they do), I know that Hatsume and probably the rest of the Support students would immediately jump on the chance of creating a fabric with the ability to switch between visible and invisible modes.

Once again, the sexualization of minor Hero students continues to disturb me. Who in their right mind thinks it’s okay to send a naked teenager out into a live battlefield just because she’s less likely to be noticed that way? This line of thought surely doesn’t account for stray bullets or falling debris, nor does it account for this poor girl’s peace of mind. She should be focused on getting the job done and saving people, not worrying about how it’s too cold for her to work properly or how there’s nothing between her body and a loaded gun except for the air between them.

The gloves and shoes seem like they’re kinda. Missing the point of contributing to a stealth Hero costume? Yes, they’re good so that Hagakure can be easily recognized among her allies, but does she just have to stow them wherever when she needs to go fully invisible and hope she can find them once the mission’s over? Plus, Hagakure will always, at the very bare minimum, need something to protect the soles of her feet. Walking barefoot just for everyday civilian stuff would cause a lot of problems, but Heroes likely have a lot of broken glass, broken nails, debris, and other nasty things on the streets where they fight. Tetanus is not fun to have.

Here’s what I like:

The gloves are a nice color, I guess?

Some misc. notes:

I gotta say, I’ve seen SO many good takes on outfit redesigns for Hagakure (same with Yaoyorozu) and the fandom collectively has some wonderful ideas on how to go about creating a costume for her. Personally, I think it would be cool if she had a full-body suit that could change between visible and invisible modes - that way, she would be easy to identify in head counts and it would likely be easier to see places where she could be injured after a fight. At the very, very least they could pull a Lemillion and have her outfit infused with something from her own DNA so it can disappear as she does while leaving her at least covered.

Overall: So, so bad. Please give this girl a suit. I’m tired.

TLDR Part 2:

Great Costumes:

Good: Iida

Okay: Aoyama

Questionable:

Bad:

The Absolute Worst: Yaoyorozu, Hagakure

#happi rambles #anime #bnha #walk walk fashion baby #meta #iida tenya #aoyama yuuga #yaoyorozu momo #hagakure tooru #and here's part two!#as I said earlier I'll link everything together once all parts are posted and I'm sorry if I didn't catch some spelling/grammar errors #long post #class 1A costume analysis

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ladyshandioftheendless · 3 years

Text

~The Stray~

I promised @electric--love that if I wrote a story introducing Werewolf!Robbin to the Vampire Crüe verse I would give ‘em a tag so here it is! I hope you like it! It’s a bit of a prelude to the sequel I’m currently working on so he’ll definitely show back up in later chapters. But where? When? Only time will tell~ (written in Paul’s POV)

~Shandi

It had been a long time since I had encountered a Lycan, but I should not have been surprised to find one in L.A. of all places.

I had just arrived, looking for safe harbor to shake my pursuer. Los Angeles was an entirely different animal from New York in every way. One could easily lose themselves in the decadence of the Sunset Strip. Blend in to the extravagance and sin. Disappear. Just what I was looking for~

There are safe houses for people like me. Sanctuaries with magical barriers to hide from enemies. From bitter lovers. They provided plenty of young victims with fresh, sweet blood. I was finally among my own kind once more. It was perfect~

And then..he came in.

He was a beast of a man. He towered over everyone. Built like a Greek God. A wild mane of blond hair. Dark, sinister eyes. Dressed all in skintight black leather. How delicious~ The others shunned him. He smelled different. Looked different. He definitely wasn't one of us. I didn't care. I wanted him~

Once he sat at the bar I quickly grabbed the seat next to him. The energy radiating off of him is so..feral. It was clear to me then what he truly was. "Awfully brazen for a Lycan to just come strolling into a Vampire sanctuary with no thought about the consequences. Are you looking for a fight?"

"And what if I am?"

Damn, his voice is sexy~ It sends shivers down my spine.

"Who is going to take my challenge..you? I could break you in half without even working up a sweat."

So antagonistic~ But I don't take his bait. Oh no..I have other ideas~ "I'm certain there are..other ways I can make you sweat~" The muscles in his thigh tense as I stroke it. I can hear his blood rushing through his veins..and straight down to his cock~ His breathing becomes shorter and quicker. Mmmm yes..now he's excited~ I lean closer, brushing my lips against his ear. "Why break me..when you can fuck me into submission instead~?"

"Arrogant bitch. You think you can handle me?"

"What's the matter..you don't want to fuck me just because I'm a Vampire?"

"I never said that."

"Then why are you hesitating? I'm offering..and I don't think your cock would be as hard as it is if you weren't interested~" As soon as I slip my hand between his legs his expression changes. He's completely hard now~ Throbbing~ "You poor baby..you must be aching~ Let me relieve that for you~" He growls and grabs my wrist, thrusting himself against my hand. "You want this..?"

"Yes. Give it to me~"

"Where do you wanna do this?"

"I have a room upstairs~"

"Let's go then."

~*~

He is a Lycan. There is no question. He takes control. He goes straight for my throat, marking me as his. He tears off my clothes with his gigantic hands and pins me down onto my bed. He fucks me mercilessly. He delights in my screams of raw ecstasy. My nails digging into his flesh. He's so fucking amazing..and I tell him so~ His stamina is endless! He's inside me again and again, filling me up. Making me delirious with pleasure. He uses my body until he is completely spent..and I am a panting, quivering mess~

Hours later I am still in his arms, running my fingers through the hair on his chest. He is beautiful..and content~ "By the way..I never did ask you your name did I~?"

"Nope."

"Does it even matter to you? Unless..you're not going to come back.."

"Do you want me to?"

"I would..like that, yes~"

"Was it that good?"

"You know it was. I told you so~ I screamed it~"

"You sure did~"

"You're teasing me now, you naughty animal~ What shall I call you?"

"My name is Robbin."

"Strayed from your Pack?"

"I don't have one."

"Ohhh I see. Well, my dear Robbin..since you marked me I suppose that means I'm part of your Pack now~" He snorts. "Don't be ridiculous. A Vampire and a Lycan can't be in a Pack together. "

"Who says?"

He goes silent. I kiss his shoulder and give it a gentle bite. "There. Now I have marked you~ My name is Paul~"

"Why..would you do this for me..?"

"Because you are much too powerful to be just a Stray. You are an Alpha. I see potential in you. We are going to do great things, you and I~"

"You know what..I actually believe you."

Eventually I will have to tell him everything. My reason for coming here. But that is for later. Now..I just want to enjoy this blissful moment~

~END~

#Shandi's drabbles #Crüe AU writings #Vampy Sixx~#this is Robbin x Paul #and it's a bit n/s/f/w #so if you don't like don't read

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justasparkwritings · 3 years

Text

Peace: Would It Be Enough?

Previous: In Secret

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader

Genre: Smut/ Angst / Slice of Life

Rating: NC17

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Swearing, P-V Sex, Consensual Sex, Making Love, Forgiveness, Redemption, Vaginal Fingering

Summary: The morning after.

Listening: peace by Taylor Swift

Peace Master List

There’s a moment when you first wake up when the weight of the world, the weight of the day, doesn’t overwhelm you. Your to-do list waits, your mind is slowly waking itself and remembering whatever nightmare you’ve left for yourself to deal with. But you know it’s coming. As you woke up that morning, that sinking feeling engulfed you before you opened your eyes. Jack Antonoff was right, but your dread wasn’t waiting by your bed, it was thriving within you.

Rolling over, you checked the clock. 10AM on a Saturday is a fine time to wake up, but as you do, the flood of thoughts crashed over you. The dryness of your skin from the salty tears made you wince, and as you padded to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee, you’re confronted with three realities, and leaning against your kitchen counter, you recount them to yourself.

· First, you told him you couldn’t look at him anymore.

· Second, he was verbally harassed last night, and you did nothing

· Third, you’re not enough

· You’re not enough to handle this

· You’re not enough to be by his side

· You’re just…

The third sent you reeling, but the second kept nagging at you like a mosquito bite in the middle of your back. It’s persistent itch slowly driving you mad.

You walked yourself through the events of the night, through Jungkook’s response, through your own. You yelled, you fucking hated yelling, it had no place in your relationship… The guys had been there, they’d tried to ration… Jungkook tried to… But he didn’t… You didn’t … It’s all coming back, the bits and pieces of the hurt you hurled at him, your Jungkook, your love, the man you’d give every wild you had to… the father of your child… And here you were, sipping coffee, trying to organize your thoughts into something cohesive to make up or make sense of the hurt you hurled at him.

You took to your phone to open Spotify and saw his plentiful texts, sent throughout the night… single lines of longing trying to reach you.

Jagi, I’m just checking in. I love you.

Baby, I hope you get some sleep. I love you.

I love you.

Our love isn’t for show… please

Love you, so much

You stared, your thoughts being overwhelmed by the profound sadness you felt towards him, because of him. With tears in your eyes, you moved to your bathroom, hot water scalding your skin as it came cascading down around you.

Jungkook awoke, but if he was honest, he didn’t really sleep. Wedged between a wall and Ho-Seok, having not planned to stay with the members at all, he found himself uncomfortable, his mind stuck on the image of you, telling him you couldn’t look at him. You, walking away from him, telling him not to follow you or talk to you. You… The texts he sent left unanswered. His pleas to you to talk to him, to say anything, to say that you loved him too… unreciprocated.

He carefully climbed out of bed around 9AM, tiptoeing into the gym, trying to work out his frustration on the treadmill.

One mile.

Two miles.

Three miles.

As he ran, he replayed the events in his head. He went to the bathroom, leaving you with a guard nearby and taking one with him. He came back and saw that man circling you, a vulture preying on a seemingly isolated fledgling. Jungkook approached, he watched the man attack, trying to get anything from you, and you, stunning in your skintight black jeans, moto jacket draping over your shoulders, studded booties protecting your feet… Jungkook tried to protect you. You, the object of his desires, you, your dazzling smile and friendly demeanor, a mere kill to that man. But the man wasn’t after you, he was after Jungkook. If one prey was left alone, the herd was nearby, and Jungkook was proof of that.His eyes became bugged as he watched Jungkook step in front of you, Jungkook, nearly six feet and pure muscle, shirt unbuttoned dangerously low, chest seemingly smooth. Jungkook, tattooed covered hand, rings absently adorning digits, undercut fresh, hair slightly pulled back, glowering over him.

Jungkook was the vulture, and weak prey does what it can to escape the predator, it distracts and deflects.

Jungkook wanted to be the threat, he wanted to use his height and physique as a way to protect you from that man. But what you hadn’t accounted for was the man’s mouth, his beliefs, his disgust that you would be dating someone so, Asian. It didn’t matter if Jungkook could beat the shit out of him, it didn’t matter that he could grind seeds in his palms or use his falsetto after dancing nonstop for three minutes. It didn’t matter, because in that moment, when the man realized that you belonged to Jungkook, his xenophobia and ignorance raged more powerfully than Jungkook’s fists ever could. Jungkook knew it, as the man’s eyes drifted between you… He knew it would come to blows.

Stepping off the treadmill, sweat soaking his clothing, he picked up his phone. No calls. No texts. No Instagram updates. No tweets. You’d gone to ground, and he was desperate to hear from you. He dialed, knowing full well you wouldn’t answer. You never spoke before you were ready, you never made a decision that wasn’t thought out… He knew you well enough to know you’d be processing, but he needed you to know he was still there, he was still so close… A call, a text, and he’d be at your door.

You sat still as your phone rang, his name and ID flashing… A photo Taehyung had taken on your last trip to Korea... A rainy day spent in sweats and watching your favorite movies, trying to show them films that were important to you. Subtitles on, and when the situation called for it, Namjoon translating. Jungkook had fallen asleep, his head resting on a pillow in your lap, fingers intertwined with yours. You sat slowly raking your fingers through his hair, smiling as you watched the film. The moment was too cute to pass up, and Taehyung snapped the pic. You watched it fade to black, and he listened as it rang and rang.

“Noona, please, please talk to me. I love you; I love you so much and I, just please call me.”

He picked up the weights, heavier than he needed, hand still hurting from the punch, and became determined to burn himself out before he could dare to think about your accusations.

You’ve sat with him in the trenches, been there for his biggest hits and greatest wins. But you weren’t convinced he’d stand by your side. You didn’t believe he’d die for you, you didn’t believe that he’d take a bullet for you, to protect your honor, to defend his own he’d… He’d die for you, on the front page, on national television. He’d give you anything you wanted, everything you wanted, but would it be enough?

Dropping the weights, mind spent, Jungkook ambled throughout the Airbnb, showering, forcing himself to eat, his bandmates asking if he was okay.

“I still haven’t heard from her,” He whispered.

“She’s safe, she’s at home,” Namjoon said, watching his maknae with sympathetic eyes.

“I know,” He responded, eyes trained on the counter. He felt uncomfortable standing with his brothers in the spot where she had walked out on him, where she’d lay bare her fears and insecurities. It felt wrong, like the place should be torn down, burned, never to be built upon again. Anything to erase the memory.

“She hasn’t said anything to us either,” Taehyung added, wrapping an arm around Jungkook.

“Is that supposed to make him feel better?” Yoongi asked, making his way through the kitchen to grab an apple.

“She isn’t just icing him out,” Taehyung clarified.

“What are you going to say to her?” Yoongi questioned.

“I don’t really want to talk about this,” Jungkook said, eyes finally moving to look at his bandmates. “I just, I just want to talk to her.” He stood, tears starting to form again and moved towards the backyard. As he pressed into the grass, his phone buzzed.

Come over please

Jungkook bounded from the car to your front door, knocking frantically, enthusiastically, begging for entrance into your home. You approached slowly, a deep breath being drawn as you unlocked the door and stepped back, letting Jungkook slowly step over the threshold.

“Baby, I-” He was cut off by your lips, hands reaching to pull him too you, your lips meeting in the middle. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. His wet hair brushed your cheeks as you moved your arms to wrap around his neck, fingers instinctively playing with the hair at the nape. He growled lightly, bottom lip between his teeth, and started to move you, slowly, through the living room and down the hallway of your bungalow to your bedroom. Your hands moved down his clothed shoulders before slowly reaching up underneath his sweatshirt to rest on his bare chest, and as you pulled away for air, he deftly slid it over his head and tossed into a pile.

“I want you,” You whispered, his hands gripping your hips, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed. You slowly opened your eyes, looking through your lashes at him.

“I need you,” He whispered, the intensity in your gaze doubling as he stared. “Always, you.”

You brought him onto the bed swiftly, lips connecting as he nestled himself between your thighs.

“I love you,” You said as his hands began to tug at your shirt, carefully guiding it off your frame. “So much.”

“I love you,” Jungkook said, his gaze staying with yours as he slipped his hand down the front of your leggings, splitting your lips open and taking a tentative stroke.

“Take them off,” You said, arm covering your eyes, giving into the feeling of him, Jungkook, Golden Maknae, lover.

He did as instructed, slowly spreading your legs, revealing yourself to him, your arousal clear and glistening, beckoning him to it. He wasted no time, no build up, no longing strokes or languid caresses. He wanted you, and he wanted you now.

Wrapping his lips around your sensitive bud, he began to suck, alternating slow gentle pulls with sharper, harsher puckers. He held your thighs down, strong hands splaying across the fat of your thighs, his favorite thighs, keeping you firmly pressed into the mattress.

Having sex with Jungkook was either one of three things:

1. Slow and passionate

2. Rough and overwhelming

3. Gentle and giving

It had taken you two a while to find your stride, sexually. One of you was experienced, the other lacking, and finding a common ground was challenging, except for the fact that you both so desperately wanted one another. You’d waited a decent amount of time, in your opinion, before having sex. You’d been burned before, and sex was something you wanted to share with someone you cared about, who was invested in whatever you were building together. Jungkook had understood and felt similarly. Your aligning star signs, and a particularly tight pair of jeans and a too low-cut top had pushed things over the edge, and you’d consummated your relationship in your house, first in the bedroom, then in the kitchen, and finally, the floor in front of the fireplace.

Jungkook continued to attend to your clit, and when he felt you getting close, slipped two fingers inside, coaxing your walls to embrace him. The stretch, unwelcome at first, was exactly what you needed. Your orgasm crashed down, overwhelming you as a new batch of tears started to fall. You tried to maintain composure, the pleasure outweighing the guilt and pain. If not for yourself, for Jungkook. He noticed your change in demeanor, and slowly kissed up your body, straddling your waist and moving your hands from your eyes.

“Hey, noona,” He whispered, lowering his lips to kiss your tears. You turned your head, catching his lips as your hand slipped between you, palming his member through his sweats. He moaned greedily, hips involuntarily rutting at your touch.

“Jungkook,” You whispered against his lips. He slid off of you and stood, tossing his sweats and briefs into the same pile of clothes he’d tossed his sweatshirt.

“How do you-

“Just, like this,” You said, propped up on your elbows, staring at his naked form. You wanted to feel close, a part of him, like you’d felt the last time you’d made love. Yes, made love was the term Jungkook preferred. Sex could be, impersonal, emotionless, but making love… a phrase perfectly depicting what it was: love shared. You could tell from the glint in his eyes, the tears still spilling from your eyes, that the love making would be gentle and passionate, your favorite kind.

Jungkook nodded, moving back between your open and willing legs, hand stroking himself once, twice, before he angled his hips and gently pressed into you. Moans swirled as the sound of his flesh against yours echoed off the walls, your tears mixing with sweat as he slowly thrust in and out of you. Your eyes locked on his as he slid a hand between you, teasing you towards your second orgasm as he edged closer and closer to his first.

You wished it could be like this forever. The passion and heat between you hadn’t lessened in the years you’d been together, distance hadn’t made your wanting disappear, it only intensified. As you came down from your respective highs, Jungkook nipped at the skin on your shoulder, leaving a small love bite.

“I love you,” you whispered, eyes closed tight, unwilling to look at him.

“I know, noona, I know,” He whispered, eyes trained on your face. “Look at me,” His voice was gentle, an ask, not a demand.

You opened your eyes, tears slipping down your temples, soaking your hair and absorbing into the pillows. Silently, Jungkook pressed his lips to yours before rising. He disappeared into the kitchen, washing his hands before bringing you a glass of water, waiting patiently for you to return from the bathroom before handing it to you. Sipping silently, you pulled him into the bathroom and into the shower.

You’d both showered independently that morning, washing away your transgressions and anxieties from the night before. In the afternoon sunlight, the water brought you two together. As you washed each other, silence sitting in the atmosphere like low clouds, ridding themselves of the last few drops from the storm that had just raged.

Slipping into clean clothes, pulling him to you again, you tumbled into your bed, limbs intertwined as your head rested on his chest, rising slowly with his breathing. The exhaustion from the fight, the anger, the fear, coupled with the exhaustion of making love, and the comfort of a lovers embrace lulled you both to sleep, only awakening when Jungkook’s phone rang.

Groggily he answered, speaking swiftly in Korean.

“The guys want to know if we want to go to dinner with them,” He said, glancing down at your still form.

“Can we just stay in?” You asked, sleep still heavy in your body.

“Of course we can,” He said standing. He stepped into the hallway; his voice still hushed as he spoke to whomever called him. You tried to open your eyes, to will the drowsiness away, and slowly it did. You opened your eyes to a setting sun, and Jungkook leaning against the doorframe, sweats low on his hips, back bare.

Somewhere in his conversation he became animated, and you knew he could paint dreamscapes if he wanted.

“Jungkook?” You said, pulling his attention from his phone call. He looked at you and smiled softly before saying his goodbyes.

“Yes love?”

“I, I’m sorry,” You said, fidgeting with the skin on your thumb.

“I’m sorry too,” He offered, sitting on the bed, staring at you.

“I’m so sorry for everything, for yelling at you, for being so harsh and cold, and, and”

His tattooed hand reached out to grab yours, a willing peace offering.

“I’m sorry I minimized your pain,” You looked at him. “I, I ignored it. I latched onto the one thing I could control, and that was what the world could see of me. I couldn’t register your hurt because I don’t know how to fix it or make it better or make people less hateful... so I got angry because our privacy is something I can navigate. I can manage if someone sees us together, or Instagram posts or twitter comments. That I can do, but last night,” You shook your head, trying to block the memories from invading. “I shut out your feelings, Jungkook, I didn’t acknowledge what you were going through, and I’m so so sorry,” Your voice cracked as you uttered your apology. Jungkook was quick to move to you, pulling you against him, your fresh tears falling on his bare chest.

“I don’t know what it’s like to experience that level of racism and hatred. I know microaggressions, I’ve fielded a million. I know in America we put Asian Americans in internment camps, we passed laws that literally wouldn’t allow them to become citizens, or enter our country, we blamed them for COVID and our stock market tanking... We fetishize and demean and make light of thousands of years of abuse. I’ve experienced my own racism, and colorism, but I’ve never ... I hate that you were hurt. I hate that someone could spew that vile, repugnant bull shit at you. I hate that I couldn’t do anything to protect you. I hate that I was so insensitive. I love you, Jungkook. I’ll give you a son, I’ll give you my best, I’ll die for you in secret, in public, I don’t care… But Jungkook, I don’t know if it will be enough?”

Your eyebrows knitted together as you stared at him. Him, the Golden Maknae, the love of your life, the man of your dreams.

“I love you,” Jungkook said, holding your gaze. “I love you. I want you… So, what if you can’t bring me peace? What does that even mean? Of course, you are enough because I say you are, because you say you are. You are enough and so much more,” Jungkook broke as your joined vulnerability tore down any remaining emotional walls or self-preservation you’d put up.

You’d had a fight, a really-bad-could-end-everything fight. Neither of you were sure what would happen, what Bang and Big Hit would want from you, whether or not swinging for the fences was going to result in a low batting average or the record for homers in a relationships timeline. Neither of you cared. The ever-present question of whether either of you was enough for the other would eat away at you, dissipating only when lips touched, I love you’s exchanged, promises of forever etched on your hearts. You could be enough for one another… until he breaks into a million pieces and the shattered edges glisten with blood… then what?

Next: Clowns to the West

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saintandsinnerwrites · 3 years

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Could I ask for 14 + X for rosenali with demon/devil rosé? I feel like that would be super fun

14. You’re the devil. You are the actual devil. X. Supernatural creatures + Rosénali

Okay y’all, here’s some monsterfucking for ya nerves~ It got long, so I’m putting it under a read more lmao.

Kinks include:

Monsterfucking (obviously)

Inhuman anatomy (a tentacle dick, or as Sinner and I call it, a tentadick)

Rough Sex

Creampie

Light Erotic Asphyxia

If you’re not into those things, this is your time to scroll on by. If you are into those things then I do hope you enjoy it! -Saint

Denali had never been particularly religious, only really exposed to it through her overly-religious friends back in grade school who believed whole-heartedly that God had a plan for them and all that happy bullshit. Denali never bought into that, but just let them believe what they wanted as long as they weren’t hurting anybody. She sometimes questioned whether or not God was real, and if he (she? they?) were real, then was the Devil real? What were they like? That intrigued Denali more than anything about God or angels.

She arrived home after her evening skate practice, took a warm shower, brushed her teeth, and dressed into her pajamas, nice and cozy. Maybe she should’ve eaten dinner, but she wasn’t really hungry, just ready to take a load off. She was going to hunker down in bed, watch some TV and just relax for a little bit before sleeping. Little did she know that her body was going to give out on her, and she drifted off into slumber shortly after getting into bed. Her dreams were strange and rather vivid, she kept seeing this vision of a bestial humanoid. She never got a good look at her face, but it felt so goddamn real. In her dream, when Denali went looking for the creature, she always got pulled back to her bed by some unseen force. Strange, but not overall concerning, not yet at least.

Denali was so curious though, she wanted to see the being that crept about in the darkness. This wasn’t the first time she dreamt of them, but this was by far the most memorable. It was difficult to discern the dream from reality, perhaps the two worlds were clashing somewhat this time. As if sensing Denali’s intense curiosity, the creature decided to come out of the shadows, their face mere inches from Denali’s immediately. Not much would scare her, but that gave her a little fright, but that fright morphed into something else too. Why was she feeling this way when some devilish creature had her in her clutches?

Perhaps she was feeling that way because the creature had large breasts and curvy hips visible through her skintight attire. As if Denali could resist that. When she smiled all that could be seen were rows of sharp, dangerous teeth, and that danger just excited Denali more. Denali never cared for the more vanilla, mundane things in life, and this encounter was certainly anything but ordinary.

“Who are you?” Denali finally found her voice.

“The devil,” came the reply that sounded like an amalgamation of various voices.

“You’re the devil? You are the actual devil?”

“The one and only, lovely.”

Shit… “And, uh, what are you going to do to me?”

“Wake you up.”

“Huh?”

She didn’t reply, she just snapped her fingers and Denali was awake and looking about her bedroom. What the fuck, what the actual fuck??? It was all a dream? She rubbed at her eyes and looked around in the darkness of her room. Silence. Nothing. Damn, that was a disappointment.

“I didn’t go anywhere, baby,” came the voice made of a thousand voices.

Denali kept looking through the darkness, her eyes getting used to it, more shapes becoming visible. “Where are you?”

“Above you.”

Denali looked up to see her, the devil, hovering above her in the corner. “You’re cuter when you’re awake.”

“Why are you even here? What are you going to do to me now that I’m awake?”

“I think you’re quite aware why I’m here. Because your mind can’t stop thinking about me, and it has quite a few lecherous thoughts,” she said with a sinister chuckle.

Denali was normally feisty and full of attitude, but when face to face with the devil who was already aware of her wet dreams it made even the likes of her falter a little bit. “Are you going to act upon my thoughts?” She fucking hoped so, she could already feel herself growing wet in her panties thinking about just what an inhuman being like her could do to her. The wind was blowing outside, moving the tree branches about, and allowing more of the moonlight to shine through into the room. She got a better look at the devil above her, and saw as she crawled atop her. A clawed hand came to rest upon Denali’s cheek, a thumb brushing over her plush lips.

“You truly are gorgeous, Denali.”

“You know my name?”

“Of course I do.”

Of course she did. “Do you have a name? I mean do you go by Lucifer or something? You’re not exactly the devil most people describe.”

That got her to laugh, “I suppose not. But I’ve had people call me Lucifer, though I normally go by Rosé with those who know me best.”

“Like the wine?”

“Yes, it’s my favorite, and as a hedonist, I don’t hold back on it. The Queen Demon of Gluttony never leaves me without a good bottle or two at my disposal. I can handle my alcohol a lot better than humans, I don’t get sloppy drunk like you all. It just fuels me, especially my lusts.”

Denali bit at her bottom lip for a moment. Fuck, this really was happening.

“Show me.”

Rosé used her claws to tear her out of her shirt, grabbing her breasts and giving them a squeeze. Thank god Denali didn’t care about that shirt, but even if she did, she doesn’t think she’d care enough to protest. She was so sensitive already, that even that little bit of contact was driving her insane. Rosé’s hands slid to Denali’s hips and she pulled her panties off and tossed them to the floor. She spread her legs, nestling between them before leaning down to kiss the cute Latina beneath her.

Denali was trying to keep herself under control, but she was so hot, so fucking horny that it was becoming increasingly difficult. Without even realizing it she bucked her hips upwards wanting friction, any sort of friction, something to help relieve this ache. Rosé grabbed her hips in a hard grasp, stilling her. That got a little whine out of Denali, her arousal increasing tenfold.

“No foreplay then I take it?” she smirked.

“No, please, I just want you to fuck me. I know I’m sounding like a little slut, but I don’t even caaaare!”

Rosé, that devilish creature, kissed up Denali’s neck and jaw before murmuring in her ear, “Just to let you know, I am not bound by human limitations of anatomy.”

Before Denali even had time to question that statement, Rosé had already unzipped her garment and let a tentacle-like appendage slither forth and press against Denali’s pussy. She gasped, not expecting that at all, but she was intrigued and excited. She knew damn well that it was going to feel amazing inside her, it could go as deep as she wanted.

“You like it, huh?”

“Yes… I can’t fucking wait for it to be inside me.”

Rosé chuckled under her breath, “Obviously. And I’m already slick so all I have to do is…” Her sentence trailed off as she started to push inside, slowly at first, working her open. Denali’s fingers slid into the sheets, grabbing them as the devil above her went even deeper.

“Oh my god…” Denali sighed, her head lolling to one side. Her dark hair blossomed out beneath her head, her perfect pink lips parted as she continued to mewl softly. Rosé didn’t let go of Denali’s hips as she started to thrust inside her, still going slow despite the fact that she knew Denali wanted it hard and rough. She’d get to that.

“You’re already so far gone, huh?”

“Please --please I want it, want you. I can take it, I need it.”

Well, Denali knew her body best and if she said she could take it, the devil would give it. After all, the devil isn’t about evil, the devil is all about giving in to all those earthly pleasures and delights that God deems sinful. Fuck that. What kind of life is it to go through it with no pleasure at all? Rosé moved her hips faster, finding that perfect pace that made Denali moan with her full voice. She fucked her hard, the grip on her hips not once lessening and Denali knew there would be some bruises tomorrow. Perfect.

“You like that, baby?” Rosé purred.

“Y-yes, it’s everything I’ve ever dreamt about~”

“You want it harder?”

“Fuck, you know I do.”

Rosé pulled out, flipped her over and slammed back inside, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking roughly. Denali’s upper body arched when Rosé pulled her hair, and she was in utter ecstasy. Her free hand let go of her hip for a moment to grab her breasts, teasing her nipples and tugging at them. Denali was losing her mind at this point, all that could be heard was the wet, obscene noises from their fucking, and her loud moans reverberating throughout the room. Rosé chuckled, her hand moving to the woman’s throat, squeezing just enough to make Denali’s eyelids flutter. She kept her grip on her throat and in her hair, using that to keep her in place as she destroyed that sweet pussy of hers.

“Can’t wait to fill you up to the fucking brim,” Rosé groaned.

That made Denali shiver, she wanted it, she wanted everything the devil would give, including taking her demon seed. Her bestie Mik would often tease her about how much she loved a good creampie, calling her cum slut and the like. She couldn’t exactly protest though, because it was true. So much so that the thought of having the devil herself cum inside her made her incredibly excited.

Rosé saw that Denali had propped herself up on her elbows, so she took her hand out of her hair and grabbed her hip again. She nuzzled into her thick hair, taking in its sweet scent. “God, you’re so gorgeous, I love how you moan for me, but I will make you fucking scream.”

She went harder, faster, her pace now brutal, which to Denali was everything, and it only brought her closer to her orgasm. It was going to be the best one she’s ever had, she could tell. Rosé was right, she did make her scream, made her scream her name, claw at the sheets, push back against her to get every single inch of that tentadick inside her. Close, so fucking close, it wasn’t going to be much longer. She was damn near desperate for that release and Rosé was right there with her. That sinister smirk disappearing off her face as she focused on bringing them both to their zenith.

“Touch yourself,” she demanded.

Denali did as she was told, rubbing at her ultra sensitive clit in quick circles. Just a little more. So close. Just a little-- and that was it. She came hard, her eyes rolling back into her head, a loud scream ripping from her throat. Her hips twitched, her legs shook as her climax took hold of her completely. Rosé didn’t stop, she just kept fucking her roughly, but she knew that she wasn’t too far behind her. Denali’s noises were music to her ears, and her clenching around her made her cum just as hard, filling her up just as she promised. Denali whimpered feeling the devil’s seed inside her, it was everything she ever wanted and more. Rosé rode out her orgasm, slowing her thrusts as she started to come down from the intense moment. She didn’t pull out immediately though, taking the time to kiss down Denali’s neck and shoulder blades.

“Did you like that?”

“Mhm~” Denali nodded, nuzzling against her pillows.

“Oh also, don’t worry, you’re not going to get pregnant, I made sure of that. Magick, and the like.”

“Honestly, I didn’t even think about that, I just wanted you to pump me full of demon cum.”

“So vulgar~ But I like that.” Rosé chuckled, pressing more kisses to her hot skin. Eventually she did pull out, watching as her cum leaked out of her, and she had a wonderfully devilish idea. She kept kissing her, kissing down her back, all the way down to kissing her beautifully ruined pussy. Denali gasped, her head popping off the pillow, looking over her shoulder at Rosé.

“A-are you gonna--?”

She didn’t answer, she just gave her cunt a few sloppy kisses and slipped her tongue inside. Denali twisted the sheets in her fists, holy hell it was so goddamn good. Rosé grabbed her ass and went in, eating out that sweet pussy like it was the last thing she’d ever do. Denali knew she was ruined, no normal sex would ever top this. She would crave all of this over and over and over again. Rosé loved that she was driving her crazy, loved that she didn’t have to hold back with this fiery young woman. This would not be the last time she came to visit her, and that was a promise.

“Rosé! I-I’m going to fucking cum!”

Good. She kept at it, using her tongue to pleasure her for the second time of the night. Denali came again just moments later and Rosé continued until Denali was completely spent, panting heavily with lust-fogged eyes and a static-filled brain. Once they were completely done, Rosé moved to lay beside her, pulling her close, and pressing a kiss to her forehead. A little smile tugged at Denali’s lips, happy that the devil didn’t just leave her after all that. Rosé would never, she would kiss her and run her fingers through her hair and lull her back to sleep so that she could dream about this yet again.

#saint writes #cwmonsterfucking #cwinhumananatomy #cwroughsex #cwcreampie #cweroticasphyxia #chrosé #chdenali #shrosénali #long post #anon

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sparkie96 · 4 years

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It’s ridiculously late where I’m at and I need to sleep, but I feel like if I sleep and not ask this I’ll forget. 😱 But I have an idea a short story if you’d be willing to write it where Leon is giving brat energy to one of the guys (Chris, Dante or Vergil your choice I’m gain for any of them) and it end with smut or almost smut. The brat energy could even be at the wrong time right place etc. This has just been on my mind for a while.

It’s kind of short but it’s Halloweeny and has Leon in a Catwoman costume! I have this headcanon that will forever be one of my go-to’s where Leon is just a dummy when it comes to comics and other nerdy things, so when it comes to Halloween, Chris mentions wanting to do a superhero costume team-up with someone. Chris mentions Captain America or something like that.

Leon, who has a massive crush on Chris and was invited to the party, is like “Catwoman is a thing...and she’s got a nice costume and she’s with one of those hero guys so...I’ll surprise him with that! Maybe that’ll grab his attention!”He’s not very bright in that department, but he’s got the spirit...a shame the costume is riding up his ass and Chris teases him about it.

Rated T-M for Language and Implied Sexy Times and Mild Nudity. _______________________________________________________ Why Leon decided this would have been a good idea, he didn’t know, but he hoped Redfield liked this...because he probably was never doing this again nor would this costume ever see the light of day after tonight. He had sent Chris ahead to the party, the older man offering to meet Leon at his apartment and drive there together, but Leon had declined the offer. He wanted to surprise the man, but he was having a bit of an issue squeezing into the skintight catsuit. Did he buy the wrong size or was it just the tight leather outfit messing with him? Should he forego the underwear and wear nothing underneath? ‘Cause his boxers felt like they were in the way...but was that really appropriate for the BSAA Halloween Party? Would anyone really care?

Leon slipped his legs out of the tight material of the pant legs in frustration, throwing the costume back down on the bed before removing his boxers. He did glance at himself in the mirror, noticing that his belly was looking a bit soft due to the drinking and constantly buying take-out. Maybe his New Year’s Resolution would be to cut all that out?

He scoffed at that and shook his head, “That’s assuming the DSO leaves me alone and the assholes knock it off with the bioterrorism…”

He really did want to get better...but each year it was getting harder and harder and he was just...so tired. He was getting older and the world didn’t seem like it was getting better any time soon. And he really couldn’t deal with another bright-faced therapist patronizing him about looking at the brighter side of things. Or going to a doctor or psychologist that would prescribe him some bullshit medication from pharmaceutical companies that probably did dealings with the same people who created the viruses.

But that was most likely his paranoia talking...and maybe he should just swallow his pride and seek help. Not everyone was untrustworthy…

“Jesus Christ, Kennedy…” Leon scolded himself, snatching the costume off of the bed, “Just shut up and put the fucking costume on so we can get drunk at a Halloween Party.”

Although that was what he told himself, that wasn’t the reason he was going. Chris was there, and Leon may or may not have liked the man as more than just a friend. He had heard from Claire and Sherry that Chris wanted to do a “Superhero Themed” Costume, dressing as Captain America or something. So, Leon got it in his own head that if he dressed up as a superhero himself, maybe a love-interest to the character Chris was dressed as, Chris would notice him and maybe admire him.

The only problem was; Leon knew jack shit about superheroes.

He didn’t read comic books or any of that, outside of the Batman or Superman Movie that came out once every five years...and had fallen asleep during that one movie with the pilot guy and the warrior princess...maybe Batman was in it? They were fighting some monster. Captain America wasn’t in it...or was he? Wasn’t it all the same? He had Googled it, but none of it made very much sense, so Leon honestly didn’t have a clue. He just went to the Halloween store, saw a costume that looked appealing and like a superhero, it had to have been because the Batman symbol was on it, and bought it.

Leon gave a breath of relief as the costume fit now that he wasn’t wearing his boxers, the catsuit sliding on with ease. He managed to zip it up to under his collar bone, deciding against zipping it up all the way. He looked over his appearance in the mirror.

He just hoped he didn’t look too ridiculous. ______________________________________________________________

The party was pretty loud and Chris was having an okay time. He wasn’t too crazy about the party itself, but he supposed it was better than being out on an assignment and worrying about BOWs. It was a helluva lot better than working on paperwork or watching monitors all night, that was for damned sure. Though, he hated constantly shaking hands with people from the DSO and TerraSave.

He especially hated the selfies and shit, people acting as though he was some damn celebrity. He also hated the girls and even some guys as they shamelessly flirted with him and swooned over him “How Handsome” or “How Fitting” he was in his costume. It made him uncomfortable and had him looking out for Jill or Claire. Hell, even Parker or Sherry would have been better company.

He wasn’t one for costumes and Halloween, but Claire had told him to stop being a brat and just pick something simple. Or something that he loved. Zombie costumes were banned, so he couldn’t just splatter paint on his uniform and call it a day, so he picked the Captain America costume instead. Captain America was one of his favorite superheroes growing up and the outfit was sort of like wearing his own uniform.

That and the big ass shield that came with it came in handy when it came to grabby people.

He sighed as he listened to one of the agents from the DSO drone on and on about Wesker and other things Chris really didn’t feel like talking about, looking around at the party goers. To his surprise, or maybe not surprise, he hadn’t seen the Golden Boy of the DSO yet. It wasn’t officially Halloween, so Leon wouldn’t have been at the Presidential Trick or Treat thing they did in DC every year. And he knew Leon was coming because the agent texted him to decline the offer to ride together, saying that he would meet him here instead.

The tapping on his shoulder made him nearly hit the person with his shield in fright, but the person blocked the hit before it could land. He saw black gloves tipped with silver claws on the edges of the shield, leading up to black sleeves and a black cowl tipped with cat ears, goggles covering the person’s eyes.

“Whoa, Big Guy!” The person chuckled, pulling up the goggles so they could sit on his head, “Easy there. Almost took my head off.”

Chris’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head at the sound of the person’s voice, “Leon?!”

Leon S. Kennedy stood before him in a skintight black catsuit with a whip wrapped around his shoulder, a utility belt with a silver cat head as a buckle, black knee high boots, and even had the cowl with the cat ears AND a cat choker..and was he wearing eyeliner? The suit was unzipped slightly, his collarbones exposed. The gloves had silver claws on the fingertips, which were now drumming on the plastic shield.

Leon chuckled, “The one and only. I heard you needed a partner for your superhero costume, so...here I am.”

Chris gave the agent a once over before giving a little chuckle, “So...you’re Catwoman?”

Leon frowned at that, “Yeah...do I look weird? Too much?” He looked down at himself, looking over his costume.

“No, no, it’s not that!” Chris insisted, “You look great! It’s just, uh, Catwoman isn’t Marvel.”

Leon raised a brow, “...huh? What the hell is Marvel?”

Chris chuckled, “It’s a comic book company that makes characters like Cap, Iron Man, Spider-Man, all of those. But Catwoman is actually Batman’s girl over at DC Comics.”

Leon wrinkled his nose and furrowed his brows, “What’s the difference?”

Chris offered him an arm, which Leon accepted, “Well...there’s a lot of differences…”

Chris continued on, the agent he had previously been stuck talking to not even noticing that Chris had left. Leon listened to the best of his ability, not really understanding what the hell Chris was talking about, but it was Chris, so he listened regardless. He did pick at the wedgie he was getting from the ridiculously tight outfit every time it rode up his ass.

“So, Batman isn’t an Avenger?” Leon asked as they picked up punch at the punch bowl, Chris grabbing a plate of snacks while Leon held their drinks, “That’s stupid.”

“How?” Chris asked, “He’s a member of the Justice League so he doesn’t need to be an Avenger.”

“Now, what the fuck is the Justice League?” Leon asked, making Chris laugh, “What the hell is with all these teams? Why?”

“Ask the guys and gals who made them, I don’t know.” Chris laughed, trading Leon a plate of food for his drink.

“So, I wore this tight ass outfit that gives me a wedgie every five minutes for nothing?” Leon asked in mock annoyance, “Fucking nerds.”

Chris shrugged, “If it’s any consolation, you pull it off really well.”

“Thanks.” Leon said before sipping his punch, smacking his lips together and then making a face, looking down at the green liquid, “This is spiked.”

Chris tasted his own drink, swishing it around in his mouth, “...I can barely taste that. How did you?”

Leon merely raised a brow with a smile, sipping it some more as he and Chris went over to the recreational area where party furniture was set up. Leon received several compliments along the way, Leon thanking or nodding his head toward them in acknowledgement. What he didn’t appreciate was the drunk who slapped him on the ass on the way by, Leon spin-kicking him in the chest.

The man was sent flying backward, the people there moving out of the way, looking between Leon and the guy in shock. Several party-goers murmured amongst themselves or were stunned silent. Leon blushed in partial embarrassment, but kept his angered glare, muttering curses under his breath as he apologized but then went back to Chris, who looked just as shocked as everyone else.

“What?” Leon asked, “He slapped me on the ass!”

Chris shook his head and thus shook himself out of his trance, “Uh...well, he did deserve it...but that…”

“What?” Leon asked, brow raised.

“That was kind of hot.” Chris admitted.

Now it was Leon who was stunned silent, the blush of pink deepening to a shade of red, “...really?”

Chris nodded, giving a bashful smile, “I’m not gonna lie...I’m both frightened...and aroused. I want to kiss you...but I don’t want you to…!”

Chris was cut-off by Leon tossing his snacks and drink before moving forward into Chris’s space, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck and kissing him. Chris’s eyes widened in surprise, giving a momentary muffled protest, but then relaxed. He dropped his own snacks and drinks in favor of wrapping his arms around Leon’s waist, pulling him into a tight embrace as he reciprocated the kiss.

They stayed like that for a moment before parting for air, Leon wearing a grin, “What about now?”

Chris blinked as he breathed a deep breath, blushing himself, “...definitely aroused. Wanna...get out of here?”

“I thought Catwoman was Batman’s girl?”

“Fuck Batman. He can have Catwoman.” Chris chuckled, holding Leon’s hand and leading him out, “I got Catman.”

Leon laughed as he followed Chris out, “Gonna give me a treat, Big Guy?”

“Definitely ain’t giving you a trick.”

“Can you do any tricks in the bedroom?”

“It’s Trick OR Treat,” Chris chuckled as they went to his truck out in the parking lot, “Not Trick AND Treat.”

“...Can I both?” Leon asked in a teasing tone.

“Keep it up and you’re gonna get a spanking.”

“That’s an extra treat.” ______________________________________________________________

The next morning, Leon woke up with a sore ass and wearing only bits and pieces of his costume, still wearing the cat cowl and claw tipped gloves. He felt a heavy body on top of his own, Chris resting on his chest still wearing his costume minus his boots and gloves. Big, muscular arms were wrapped around Leon’s waist, hugging him tightly even in sleep. The man’s shield was on the floor next to his whip, next to the tattered remains of Leon’s costume.

Leon looked around and groaned as the sunlight bled through the sheer curtains, but he actually didn’t feel annoyed. He was actually satisfied and felt...happy...and apparently in Chris’s apartment. Movement on top of him and the sound of Chris yawning indicated that the man was stirring from sleep, drawing Leon’s attention downward.

“Morning, Cap.” Leon greeted softly as tired brown orbs looked up at him.

Chris wore a sleepy smile, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “Morning, Cat. Last night was…”

“...last night was fun.” Leon chuckled in agreement, “Best tricks and treats I’ve ever gotten.”

Chris nodded and chuckled in agreement as well as he carefully climbed off of Leon. He looked down at the floor, apologizing for ripping Leon’s costume. Leon shrugged as he sat up, stretching his aching limbs with a yawn of his own. He smiled, saying that the costume was probably gonna rip at some point during the party if they had stayed. Better Chris’s bedroom than in front of everyone at the BSAA.

“But you can make up for it by making me breakfast.” Leon teased with a wink.

Chris smiled and nodded once more, stripping out of his costume and into some lounge clothes, “Only if you’ll stay.”

“Deal.”

#Halloween Fic #Chreon #Costume Kink #Costume Party #Leon Kennedy #Chris Redfield #Motivational Monday #WIP Day

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a-solitary-marshmallow · 4 years

Text

Do No Harm Take No Shit Chapter 4: You, Me Some Mew-vies

Take two. He’d failed after school, but there was nothing stopping him from asking out Marinette that evening.

Adrien had planned it out – how he would introduce the topic, where they would go, how they would get there. He’d kept track of some of her favourite things and planned to incorporate them on the way. Only the best for Marinette – their first date had to be unforgettable.

He’d spent half an hour in front of the mirror, psyching himself up. He’d asked Marinette out before as Chat Noir – this was no different. So why did glancing at his phone send butterflies through his stomach?

Adrien shook his head and strode over to his bed, picking up his phone from the covers. Marinette’s contact was pink with a smily face after her name – that wasn’t quite right. It needed a heart, at least. Adrien quickly edited it to read ‘Love of my Life’ with three heart emojis after it. Keeping it cool, obviously.

Adrien clicked call.

He turned to face the darkening Paris skyline through his window as the phone rung once, twice, thrice. On the fifth ring there was a click, a rustle, and then Marinette’s clear voice rang through like a bell.

“Adrien! Hi. I wasn’t expecting a call from you, is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” Adrien hurried to assure her. “It’s just, there was something I was going to ask you after school today that I forgot to do.”

“Hmm?” Another shift, as if Marinette was currently sifting through fabrics at her work table? His lady was always working, never still, even with a broken arm and masses of homework to catch up on. God he loved her. “Sure.”

“So.” Come on, Agreste.

“So.” Marinette echoed.

“There’s this movie coming out in a few days, and I was thinking… um, well, as well as that…” His plan was crumbling! “Okay basically I was wondering if you’d want to go on a date with me?”

Marinette squeaked, and then there was clatter and a rustle. Adrien held his breath as the rustling continued. She grabbed the phone and put it up to her ear again. “A-A date?”

‘I made a mistake. This was too soon. Maybe she doesn’t like me anymore now she knows I’m Chat Noir. Maybe it was just a crush and she doesn’t want anything serious. Maybe-‘

“I would love to!” Marinette blurted out. “I – yes, I’d love to go out with you, Adrien.”

His face burned. He turned away from a snickering Plagg, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart. “Really?”

“Of course.” Marinette giggled. The sound of it was like bells. Adrien’s smile stretched so wide that it hurt.

“Okay! Um, can I pick you up on Saturday? You don’t have anything on then, do you?”

“No, I’m free then.” Adrien could hear the grin in Marinette’s voice. “What time?”

“Is nine in the morning okay?”

“Definitely.”

“Great.” Adrien breathed. “So, it’s a date?”

“Yeah. It is.” More rustling. “Oh, Adrien? Can we… keep this a secret? Just for a bit. I mean, Alya’s always kinda gotten into my business – I love her, of course, but she can go a little overboard sometimes, and I want to figure this out with just us. Does that make sense?” She groaned at her own clumsy wording.

“Definitely!” Adrien blurted. “Yeah, we can keep it a secret for a bit.”

“Maybe just until next Monday? After our date.”

Hearing her say the word ‘date’ made Adrien’s heart sing. He nodded, before realizing she couldn’t see him. “That sounds like a good idea.” And he couldn’t help adding, “Though it’ll be hard not to sweep you off your feet during school, this cat will try his best.”

Marinette laughed. “He’d better! Alya already interrogated me about when you picked me up at the hospital.”

“Picked you up, huh? So you admit my pickup lines work?”

“Ugh, Adrien!” Marinette snorted.

He grinned and teased, “You know you love my jokes.”

“They’re so bad.”

“That why you love them, Bugaboo.”

“I hate that you’re right.” She groaned good-naturedly. On the other end of the line Adrien heard a faint call. “Oh, my parents want me down. Are you driving me into school tomorrow? You know, I’m the hero of Paris, I’m capable of walking.”

“Now what kind of prince would I be if I let my princess walk?”

“Pfft.” Marinette snorted. “Ugh, worst one yet. I’ll see you then.”

“Okay then! I’ll – I’ll see you tomorrow, Marinette.”

“Goodnight, Chaton.”

A click, and the call ended. Adrien pressed his forehead to his window to cool the burning in his face. He was going on a date. With Marinette Dupain-Cheng. He was the luckiest cat alive. Now all he had to do was make sure it went well. How could the plan fail when it was so well thought through?

“Plagg! I didn’t think this through!”

“You’re telling me.” Plagg yawned from Adrien’s pillow, while Adrien paced rapidly from window to window, pausing every so often to glance at his watch and then pacing a little bit faster. Saturday morning, and he hadn’t thought about this yet? Where had the time gone?

“What am I supposed to wear? She’s a fashion designer, Plagg. I can’t look like an idiot in front of her.”

“It’s not like you wear a skintight leather cat suit most days.”

“That’s different and you know it!”

Plagg groaned. “You know your father’s a famous fashion designer, right? Why don’t you just go ask him?”

“He already gave permission for me to be out today, I don’t need to jinx that. And besides, that’s him! I want to choose what I wear today, and it has to be perfect.”

At Plagg’s insistent whining Adrien finally picked out an outfit – a salmon shirt under a light grey jacket, and dress pants. You couldn’t go too wrong with that, right? Right???

Somehow he made it into the limousine in one piece, flowers and all. Adrien hadn’t really had anyone to go to for advice, so he’d resorted to Google for answers and ended up on a page about flower meanings. Blue roses for love at first sight, red roses for passion, orange tulips for happiness, and pink carnations simply because they reminded him of her. It looked kind of messy and Plagg had laughed, but hopefully Marinette would like them?

The Gorilla pulled up to the Dupain-Cheng bakery at nine on the dot. Adrien hurriedly straightened his jacket and hurried out to knock on the door, bouquet in hand.

“Kid, chill out.” Plagg whispered from his pocket. Adrien vibrated with nerves. Ugh, he was taking this too far wasn’t he? The flowers were too much. He’d almost made up his mind to toss them away when there was a click and the door swung open.

Tom Dupain towered over him with a brilliant smile. Adrien stood caught in its beam. Well, now he knew where Marinette got her room-lighting grin from.

“Adrien! So nice to see you. Marinette’s just getting ready, she’ll be out in a minute. Are those flowers? Oh, Sabine, come and see what the Agreste boy got our Marinette!”

Adrien felt his face flush as Mrs. Cheng poked her head out and ‘awwww’ed.

“So, what time do you expect to be back?” Tom asked cheerfully.

“Er, we were going to have lunch, so three?”

Marinette appeared around her father with rolling eyes and a cute white blouse, with black patterns to match the signatures on her cast. Her pink skirt fluttered around her legs as she stepped out onto the street.

“Papa, I already told you when I’ll be back.”

“I was just checking!” The giant man defended. Marinette turned her gaze to Adrien and froze, freckled cheeks darkening in a blush. Adrien gulped and mustered all his Chat Noir suaveness (it may have actually been dorkiness but he didn’t care right now) to bow and hold out the bouquet with a cheeky smile.

“For Milady.”

Tom and Sabine cooed. Marinette hesitantly took the flowers. Electricity zinged through Adrien’s arm when their hands touched. Marinette coughed and squeaked out, “You look really good Adrien.”

“I was just about to say the same thing.”

The two teens may have stood there all day, blushing, if Tom hadn’t plucked the flowers from Marinette’s grasp with an, “I’ll put these in water.” The movement startled them out of their state and Marinette shyly lifted one arm. Adrien looped his elbow through it and led her to the limousine.

“So.” Marinette said as Adrien opened up the door. “Do I get to know what we’ll be doing today?”

“Not yet. It’s a surprise.” Adrien climbed in after her and nodded to the Gorilla in the mirror. His trusty bodyguard nodded back and pulled out onto the street with a rumble, the car quickly slotting into traffic. Marinette hummed and cracked open her purse to hear Tikki’s whisper.

“Plagg told me about it, Marinette. You’ll love it.”

“Plagg!” Adrien objected, scandalized. Plagg snickered from his pocket. “How could you?”

“Top ten anime betrayals.” Marinette giggled. Adrien fixed a glare at the lump in his jacket.

“Well, if the stinky sock in the room is just going to spoil it, I’ll tell you our first destination for today. We’re going to find Andre and get special ice cream.”

Marinette clapped excitedly, and the sight of her face was more than enough to make Adrien smile again. “Do you have the clue?”

“Ready and waiting.” Adrien presented his phone’s screen, which held the first clue that would eventually lead to the whereabouts of Paris’s renound ice-cream vender. Well, Adrien could have just checked social media for spoilers – but half the fun of it was figuring out the mystery! “And I came prepared.”

Marinette sent him a questioning look. Adrien grinned and pulled out the black jacket, hat and sunglasses he’d placed there earlier.

“It’s a disguise.” He explained, slipping on the sunglasses. “So we don’t get mobbed.” Adrien struck a pose. “How to I look?”

“Like a huge dork.” Marinette said affectionately.

“But I’m your dork.”

“Next time, please let me choose your disguise. I love you, Adrien, but you are terrible at disguises.”

She loves me. Adrien flushed to the tips of his ears. Marinette didn’t seem to have realized what she said, because she was still laughing and poking out her tongue adorably. Adrien put on his best Chat Noir smirk.

“Oh, so there’ll be a next time?”

“Of course there will be, you dumb cat! Now, let’s see that clue.” Marinette leaned over to look at his phone screen. Adrien held it away from her teasingly.

“Well, if you’re gonna be like that, maybe I don’t want to share.”

Marinette’s hand went up, and too late did Adrien realise she wasn’t reaching for the phone. Her hand landed in his hair and scratched teasingly right behind his ear – a dirty move, she knew that was his weak spot! Adrien couldn’t stop the purr from escaping his chest. He leaned into the contact, rumbling. Marinette cackled and snatched the phone from his distracted hands.

“Hey! No fair!”

Adrien pouted, until she leaned over to place her head on his shoulder. She was too cute to not forgive! Adrien caved and read the clue with her. He hummed in thought.

“The park, maybe?”

“Maybe. Or near a shopping centre? It’s kind of ambiguous.”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to go exploring.”

#my writing #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #fluff #fic #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir #dnhtns

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daedae127 · 4 years

Text

Help me; Bang Chan

a/n:

alright, this is actually the first time I've written an x-reader, and I wrote it in one sitting at 2 am lol. Just a reminder, this isn't edited because I'm a lazy person. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this, anon.

Warnings: mentions of blood, a little bit of a steamy scene (it lasts for like two seconds), and swearing.

Bang Chan x Gender-neutral reader

You sighed, stepping into your apartment and taking off your boots. The mask was next, and you rubbed at your eyes. It really was exhausting being a super villain, you thought. Your muscles ached, and all you wanted to do was soak in a steaming bath and sleep. You were about to do just that, when your stomach growled loudly. You groaned.

I should’ve had something other than a breakfast bar this morning.

You headed to the kitchen, deciding to make something simple, like ramen, so you could just sleep. You filled the kettle with water and placed it on the stove, turning the burner to high. While the water was heating up, you started to unzip the skintight suit all super heros and villains wore for some reason. They were honestly such a pain, and you’d rather go around causing havoc in drawstring pants and t-shirts, but hey. You didn’t make the rules.

A loud crack startled you, causing you to drop the package of ramen you were holding. You cursed. The weather had been extra shitty that day, and just when you thought it was starting to clear up, it got worse. Great. The kettle started to whistle loudly, and you quickly turned the burner off and poured the boiling water into the ramen. It would take awhile to cool, so you headed to the bedroom to get more comfortable clothes on.

You finished stripping out of your suit, hanging it in the very back of the closet. Just as you were pulling on a pair of sweatpants there was a loud crash from outside. It sounded like it was on the balcolny. You sighed heavily, and peeked out of the window to see what it was.

Oh shit.

There was a tall figure slumped against the door, and they were obviously hurt. Blood was dripping down their face, and fuck. It was Chan. Your supposed arch nemesis, who you definitely didn't have a crush on. You just thought it was fun to tease him. It so wasn't fair that he still looked hot, even when covered in blood-

Shit. He was covered in blood. How the hell did that happen?

You quickly opened the screen door, because even if he was technically your enemy, you didn't want him dead. Chan moaned softly, and you barely caught him when he went down, promptly passing out.

"Seriously? You show up and ruin my carpet, and then faint and leave me to drag you inside?" You shook your head, trying to convince yourself that you weren't worried, it would just be boring if something were to happen to Chan.

•••

Oh, who were you kidding, you were worried sick. It had been about three hours since Chan fainted, and he was still out cold. You had given him a towel bath, getting as much blood off of him as you could. You'd also had to give him stitches in a few places on his torso.

You also left his mask on, because while you wanted to know his identity, you didn't believe is playing this dirty.

Now he was tucked in your bed, warming up and wearing one of your old shirts. Why did the guy have to be that toned, jeez. It wasn't fair, you decided, especially when you were trying your best to ignore the feelings blooming in your heart.

You sat down beside Chan, studying him while he slept. You wished circumstances were different. Maybe if he were a villain, or, God forbid, you were a hero, it could work out.

You sighed, reaching for your mask incase he actually did wake up. You tied it nice and tight, and while you were definitely going to have marks on your face for days, you'd rather him not know who you were.

You looked over to him, wondering if you should tie him up, but quickly decided against the idea. It would only injure him further, and that was the last thing you wanted.

"Do I sleep, or do I stay up and watch you. I do have to make sure you don't like, kill me or anything..." You stopped. "Jeez, why am I even talking to you. You can't even hear me."

You flopped down, pulling up a blanket over your chin. "I'm going to trust you. Probably not smart, but I'm exhausted. I have a regular job, you know, and it was a shitty day, so please go easy on me."

And with that, you fell asleep, not noticing Chan's eyes watching as you did so.

•••

When you woke, it took you a few minutes to realize what position you were in. When you finally did, you cursed as loudly as possible. "What the actual fuck Chan, I saved your damn ass and this is how you repay me? By tying me up on my own bed?" There was no response.

You groaned, testing out how strong the ropes around your wrists were, before noticing that your mask was still intact. Well, you supposed, at least he had enough decency to keep this on.

It was slightly surprising, but you chose not to linger on the subject for too long.

It was then you noticed Chan leaning heavily against the doorframe, looking wary. "Well, well, well," you drawled, "I see that you're very appreciative of my help. You would be dead if I hadn't seen you on my balcony."

Chan rolled his eyes under his mask. "You were the closest person I could think of. That doesn't mean I trust you though."

You shivered, closing your eyes. Why did he have to be so... so perfect, and hot, and-

And let's not forget that fact that he tied you up. "You know Chan, I would have gladly agreed to be tied up for you, all you had to do was ask,"

Chan shook his head, sighing. "Be quiet, please. My head is pounding."

You groaned. "Release me. I took you in, didn't I? I'm not going to try anything funny, I promise. Please Chan, the ropes are way too tight, and even though I like to tease I won't try anything. I'm losing feeling in my hands."

It wasn't a lie, your hands were getting a bit numb. On a normal day you'd continue to tease and mock him, but you were just too tired. Chan seemed to sense that, and he slowly nodded. "...fine. But mark my words, if you try anything you'll regret it."

You nodded quickly, flopping your legs around. "Just let me go, damnit."

He limped to the side of the bed, and carefully unknotted the ropes, letting them fall to the floor. You looked up at him. "Thank you. Now, care to explain why you showed up here in the middle of the night covered in blood? Actually, how do you even know where I live... I thought I was discreet."

Chan let out a small chuckle. "Stop pouting, it's a bad look on you," he ignored the indignant sounds you let out, and sat on the bed. "and it's really none of your business, ___."

"You made it my business when you ruined my carpet, jackass. And you didn't answer my question. How do you know where I live?" You were starting to get a little annoyed with him.

Chan shrugged, then winced. You had to restrain yourself from asking if he was okay, if he needed anything, if he wanted you to kiss him better. Wait no, that’s not right. You didn’t like him, and that was the end of it.

“I have my ways. Besides, I’m actually pretty sure I know who you are.”

Wait, what?

“You work at a children’s hospital, don’t you?”

Shit, he’s onto you.

“I don’t even know where the damn children’s hospital is, Chan. Also, I don’t have the time to carry out my ‘evil deeds’ and take care of-” you forced your face to scrunch up in disgust, “kids.” There, that should take care of that.

But of course it wasn’t that simple.

You yelped as Chan suddenly pushed you onto your back, head banging into the wall behind you. “What the fuck mate, I thought we had a truce or something-” Chan rolled his eyes so far back into his head, you were momentarily worried that they’d get stuck. Sadly they didn’t, and as always he had a sassy comeback. “You know, ___, you’re a really bad liar. Especially when you’re flustered.”

Well Damn. He was fighting dirty, but two could play that game.

“Oh come on,” you murmured, rolling your hips up to meet his. His cheeks turned a pretty pink, but he stayed unmoving over you. Ouch, that really had to hurt with all of his wounds. “I don’t think I’m the flustered one here, babe.”

Chan scoffed. “If only you could see your own face.”

Oh fuck, why did he have to have such a sexy voice.

You looked away, trying to get your thoughts in order. You were surprised when he took hold of your jaw gently, so that you were looking him in the eyes. Chan smiled. “___... can I kiss you?”

You stuttered. "Chan...I want this. More than you could ever know, but..." You shook your head. "We don't even know each other. I can't just hook up with you and pretend it didn't happen."

Chan looked confused, and you wanted to cry. Of course he didn't understand, he didn't feel any kind of romantic feelings towards you. You gently pushed on his chest, and he moved to lay beside you.

You were surprised when Chan spoke.

"My real name is Christopher. I mean, I like to go by Chan with my friends in Korea, but Chris is my real name. Apart from making your crime life difficult, I'm a producer for a small company."

What. The. Fuck.

Chan, (Chris?) just fucking told you who he was. You could easily out him to the whole world, telling people that their favorite hero was a part time producer. They would probably find that charming.

But you wouldn't. And he knew that. That's why he told you.

"Well?" he teased, "are you going to tell me who you are?" When you hesitated, he spoke again. "You don't have to, you know. But seriously, please don't tell anyone. I'm trusting you with a lot here. I want this to work."

You nodded slowly. "I.. I'm ___ Lee." He looked at you with a weird look. "I know I know, not the most discreet name, but it was all I could think of!" Chan laughed and you pouted, turning away from him. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you back to him.

"I swear to god Chan, if you hurt yourself more I will personally drag you out of my apartment."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

Chan just laughed again, and you rolled your eyes, holding back a smile. You turned ro face him, hesitating just a moment, then reached behind you and took off the mask covering your face. Chan's eyes widened, but he hurried to do the same.

With the mask off he looked...well, he looked just as you'd always imagined. Not that you had imagined this situation, of course not, but it was so...nice.

You looked at each other for a few moments, just taking it all in. Then, Chan moved forward and kissed you softly. You kissed back, placing a hand on his cheek. When he pulled back, you whined, reaching to pull him in again. Chan shook his head, laughing quietly. "You're so impatient. Let me at least take you out first,"

You stuttered. "I wasn't- I just wanted another kiss, jackass."

He laughed again, his eyes full of mischief. "I'm just teasing you...but really, I want to take you out. I want to get to know you, and we can figure out the rest later."

"I...I want to know you too." You snorted. "This is so unethical, you know that right?"

Chan grinned. "What did I say. We'll figure it out later. Right now I just want to kiss you again."

You rolled your eyes, leaning in. "You should rest. I had to give you a few stitches, and I don't want those to break, if they haven't already."

He nodded. "Yes dear, whatever you say, dear."

"Oh, fuck all the way off."

You sighed contentedly, snuggling close to him. You could definitely get used to this.

《End》

#bang chan #bang chan x gender neutral reader #fanfiction #oneshot

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