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#x system
mfshipbracket · 1 year
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swordsandholly · 17 days
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Thinking about a mechanic!AU where the 141 boys run a garage and need a new receptionist. They hire you because you’re just so cute (great tits) and have a decent resume but it becomes a slight problem when they realize you’re a bit… dense.
Total ditz to be precise.
But they can’t really get mad when you get the keys for clients mixed up and look at them with those big eyes all teary and a little pout pushing out your lower lip.
Price is the most patient, perfectly content to walk you through how to file paperwork and fill out forms. Instructing you in a low voice while his breath brushes the shell of your ear. It’s really their fault for having such a terrible system, you know? Don’t worry about it too much, dove. He’ll settle his big hands on your shoulders and gently trace up and down your arms. See? You’re getting it. Just needed some more practice, hm?
Johnny is more than happy to show you around the garage, rattling off everything he knows about all those nitty gritty details that go right over your pretty little head. He’ll pop open the hood of some sports car and point to the engine to show it off. No, bonnie, you’ve got tae get in close. Closer.
Until you’re bent entirely over in one of those too-short skirts you wear everyday. It takes all his willpower not to yank you into the supply closet.
Gaz is just so sweet to you. Always bringing you little treats and candies to suck on. To help you concentrate, of course. Always greeting you with a soft ‘baby girl’ at the beginning of your shift. Whenever you’re standing around be it at the printer or counter - wherever really - he’ll slip a hand on your waist. It always trails a little lower, his pinky just edging on the hem of your too tight jeans.
Ghost gets frustrated with you to the point of causing tears to well up in the corners of your eyes. He’s feels guilty, sure, but bloody hell just print the damn receipt. He avoids you for the most part. Until one evening when it’s pouring down. You forgot your rain coat of course, silly girl. He offers you a ride which you take happily.
After that he can’t get rid of you. You bring him coffees (how you remember his order word for word but not where you last left your own cup is beyond him) and giggle at his jokes. When a client gets too snappy or too loud he’s the first to step in - standing behind you glaring at them with his huge arms crossed over his chest until they back down.
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finleycannotdraw · 10 months
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I don’t have the capacity to be coherent right now but. this movie is so good
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ikiprian · 1 month
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Ghost Kitchen (brought to you by criminal entrepreneur, Red Hood)
Danny’s got the easiest job in Gotham.
He works as a fry cook at a shoddily-run, independent burger joint. Hardly anyone comes in, despite prices being criminally low, and portions insanely large, and while the manager looks like the average tough-as-nails ex-con, he lets Danny mess around in the kitchen whenever the place is empty. (Which is often. This place has to be the city’s hidden gem or something!)
Mr. Manager’s the only one ever there with Danny, except for sometimes when his buddies come over to smoke and play cards. Danny would find it shady, except part of his job is not to ask questions. Literally, he was told during the interview.
(It was a weird interview. Why would they need to hire someone who’s been in a gunfight before? Like, he has, but Gotham’s idea of “hirable qualities” is so bizarre.)
So instead he whips up some killer burgers with the frozen ingredients, and basks in the praise as the guys tell him he shouldn’t have, he does too much for this joint, ain’t that friendly!
Now, Danny’s a chef on the newer side. As a teen he’d preferred the look of Nasty Burger over anything with Michelin stars, and he only really took up cooking after Jazz moved out for college. But just like ecto-exposure used to turn the groceries sentient, Danny’s low-level ecto signature imbues all his food with something historically haunted Gothamites just love! And Danny’s never been one to half-ass a job when it makes people happy.
With fresher produce, real meat, Danny’s sure he can take his dishes to the next level. It takes a couple months of badgering, but his manager finally agrees to contact the mysterious store owner, who keeps the place going, despite profits Danny knows have to be in the red.
Danny spends the morning prepping. He pours his heart into his food, eager to impress. The big boss will be here soon, and he wants to prove that despite the dangerous location, this place has real potential!
It isn’t until the Red Hood shows up that Danny realizes he’s been working for a money laundering scheme.
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ghouljams · 4 months
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The Ghost distribution system... He really is like a stray cat, or a bear that learns minivans have food in them, he just keeps coming back no matter how many times you try to send him on his way. It doesn't matter how it happens but any scrap of kindness and he just determines he's going to attach himself to you.
Maybe he offers you a hand moving your couch when he passes your place and hears you swearing. You offer him dinner and Ghost has never been the sort to turn down a free meal, so he sticks around. It's weird that he doesn't even pretend to refuse, just takes you up on it immediately and even offers to help cook. You send him home and he's... there again the next day, waiting on your doorstep with a box of pasta asking if you could do anything with it. He's going to come back, he's going to keep coming back.
Maybe it's from meeting you at a bar. He's the biggest guy you can grab when your ex walks in, and somehow he seems approachable despite... well, everything about him. Fake boyfriend for a few hours at the bar is one thing, having him show up the next day to fix your sink because you mentioned offhandedly that it was leaking the night before is another. Having him sit in your kitchen and peal an orange for you because you said you were hungry is really driving home that this guy isn't leaving.
Hell maybe it's just a one night stand that never seems to end. You wake up and Ghost has already made breakfast. The two of you sit at your little table and eat quietly, Ghost scrolling his phone while you eye him warily, trying to figure out his game. He asks what you want to do today and somehow you can't find the right way to ask when he's planning on going home. He just sort of moves in, you realize he's printed a key for himself while you're grabbing groceries. It's nice he offers to pay, but you don't know when having him around became your normal.
Ghost sees you, he wants you, you're his. He's not leaving, he'll come back. He knows that this house has food and warmth, he knows that families forget to tie their trash up off the ground. He's a man of instinct, and you are going to be his perfect match.
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alwaysshallow · 2 months
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you need to be careful what you say to ghost.
no matter if you're in a talking stage, dating, situationship, if this man cares about you, absolutely do not say that you wish you could kill someone.
not debatable. you just shouldn't say that; as anyone else would laugh it off, he weirdly... starts to question you. not the usual questions how was your day, what happened etc.
"and what would you do to him?" he asks, while massaging your back. "choke him? stab him in the back, make people watch?"
"he just deserves to be out of my life, out of this job. i wish he wouldn't bother anyone again, i wish everyone just could forget him," you say—almost mindlessly, as ghost makes you feel relieved. not actually caring anymore, as it's another day of your annoying coworker.
simon just hums at that.
the next day, your coworker... he's gone. days, then weeks of not seeing him; no one actually knows where he is, he just wrote an email to your boss about moving on and taking new opportunities.
"it's just weird." you shrug, looking at simon's reaction; he's cooking dinner now, seeming completely unfazed by your revelation at work.
"probably found a better life," he says.
probably he did.
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angellcherry · 3 months
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— home.
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» pairing: jungkook x reader
» genre: fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort, nsfw
» synopsis: “show me your thorns, and I'll show you hands ready to bleed.”
» warnings: allusions to depression, brief mentions of self harm (nothing graphic!), a little bit of angst, cuddling, reassurance, jungkook is a big green flag, talks of therapy and healing, confessions, lots of kisses, he's down bad and so in love :( (they both are), pet names, soft!dom jk, slight size kink, missionary bc he needs to look at her and kiss her 😩, praise, dirty talk, choking, creampie, aftercare
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His hand curled around the nape of your neck the moment your lips touched. Warmth trickled down your spine, and he titled his head; tongue prodding at your soft lips, like he wanted you down to the marrow. Like he wanted to dip into your soul, kiss after kiss, until he was completely submerged; until he's explored every nook and crevice, felt every bump and crack.
He pulled away from the heat of your mouth slowly, reluctantly, eyes half lidded and dark. Lungs expanding to take in more air, voice coming out hoarse.
"You weren't answering your phone..."
"I know," you whispered, "I'm sorry."
Jungkook shook his head.
"No need to be sorry, baby," he lifted your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the soft skin there. "I was just worried."
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in closer. You sank into his embrace so easily; like you just came home. In a way, you have. He hasn't seen you in over a week...
It may not have seemed like much, but your absence was tangible. Suffocating. Especially when he didn't know if something was wrong.
"I'm glad you're here," he murmured.
You turned your head to peck his shoulder, fingers entwining, and then you were walking towards his bedroom as though it was second nature. The change in your demeanor had the corners of Jungkook's eyes crinkling from smiling. You practically skipped over to his bed, hopping onto the large mattress.
"Can I get a shirt, please?"
He didn't think you comprehended how fucking cute you were. He turned to open his closet and began rummaging through it.
"At this point, I'm pretty sure I'd kill someone if you asked me," he muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing, baby."
Flushing, he ignored the curious tilt of your head and threw you his favorite t-shirt.
God, how could someone be so fucking cute?
You were always excited to nap in his bed, share food and wear his clothes. The fact that it brought you comfort made his already lovesick heart swell up and ache. Something so simple, but so domestic — it fucked with his head. He wanted this every day, in every life. You were his comfort, too. Why couldn't you see it?
He leaned against his closet, arms crossed, watching you slip out of your clothes, the heap landing on the floor. It was art. You were so beautiful; inside and out. He couldn't help the way his stomach stirred and heart fluttered, yet instead of acting on his urges, he just walked over to you and bent down to pick up your clothes.
While you got into his shirt, he folded them neatly and placed them on his gaming chair.
"I missed this bed so much," you sighed.
Jungkook glanced over at you, taking a moment to drink in the image of you lying there, the black cotton of his shirt slightly too wide and too long for your body; but fuck, it looked perfect to him. He bit his lip, making his way to climb onto the mattress beside you.
"What about me?" He asked, delighted by how you opened up your arms, instinctively scooting closer to him.
"Hm, what about you?"
Jungkook pouted, eyebrows furrowing. His arms wrapped around your waist.
"Hey."
You giggled, peppering his face with kisses, and he wished he could live in this moment forever, stop all the clocks, kill time. To hell with what that would do to the universe.
"I missed you, too."
Just like that, he melted. Somehow, it hurt so bad; he had you right there, and yet he didn't. Disappearing and reappearing. Out of reach, like a mirage.
He lifted your hand to his lips again, momentarily distracted by how small it was compared to his.
"So tiny."
Amused at the scoff you let out, he turned it to kiss your palm, then paused abruptly.
A raw shade of red caught his attention.
Narrowing his eyes, he examined the wounds around multiple fingers — or at least tried to, before you caught on and pulled your hand away like you got burned.
His heart dropped.
It's been a while. Why were you doing this to yourself again?
Fuck. He felt like a failure of a man.
He swallowed thickly, then pulled you in closer, as if treading on thin ice. Terrified of making a mistake and feeling it crack under his weight. Once he was under, once it all fell apart, he didn't know if you'd let him in again.
"Baby..." he whispered into your hair.
"I'm so tired, Jungkook," mellow, you answered the question he didn't get to ask. "I don't know what's wrong with me..."
"Talk to me," he pleaded. "I can't help you if you shut me down."
You sniffed quietly. There was a loud crack. Not in the ice, but in his chest.
"You can't help me either way."
Jungkook tried to lift his head to look at you, but you gripped his hoodie, bunching up the fabric in your hand.
"Baby—"
"Not everyone deserves help," you insisted, a wet sigh following. "What's wrong with me? Why can't I help myself? E-everyone else seems to be doing just fine, a-and I'm just rotting away, filled with these ugly thoughts and feelings, I can't do anything right."
Jungkook hugged you tighter, like he hoped he could mold you together, give you as much of him as you needed to feel whole again. He'd let you rip him to pieces to fill the void.
"Stop saying that," he breathed, his eyes burning, "fuck, stop saying that."
He stroked your back as you cried into his chest, softly, feeling helpless and furious at the same time.
"When you're always in the dark," he whispered, "you learn to make friends with monsters to survive. It's all you know, so it's what feels most comfortable."
He heard you inhale, felt your head lift with hesitation. Eyes swollen, glossy, lower lip still trembling.
Jungkook cupped your face, wiping at the wet streaks.
"When you're always in the dark, sometimes... it feels like it's all you deserve. But it's not your fault. You're not a bad person," he said softly, his thumb rubbing your lower lip. "Sometimes, it's just the monsters you know talking."
You blinked, small and vulnerable, like a child who just woke up from a nightmare.
"I... I don't know..."
Jungkook squeezed your waist, so close his nose almost touched yours.
"But I know," he promised. "I know."
He stared into your eyes, watched them well up with more tears. He wished he could kiss them all away.
"Let me be there for you—"
You kissed him, and once again, it hurt. Because he wanted you, he wanted you so bad, but not like this — why didn't you want him, too?
Outside of the bedroom, when you weren't tangled in sheets, it seemed like you had no interest in letting your walls down. He's spent so much time trying to climb them, only to end up with broken bones, back down on the ground again.
He couldn't do this anymore.
He pulled away from your lips, denying you the oblivion you craved. He wanted to let you use him, he'd do it every day if it meant he could see you again. But he was afraid that if he didn't speak up now, he'd never find the courage to do it.
"I want to be with you," he breathed out. "Why won't you let me love you?"
There was an instant change in your expression that made his stomach lurch.
"I— I..."
A pause, filled with uncertainty.
Jungkook searched your eyes. The windows to the soul, they said. Broken, and the interior was dark. Nothing good lurked in there.
"I love you," he repeated.
His heart pounded in his chest. He stared right into this endless darkness, crawling with insecurities and fear. As though he was hoping the warm whisper would chase away the frigid, haunted air breaking through, make all the other voices come to a halt.
He was no longer a boy, but a man, and he feared no monsters. He wanted to flood the space with light.
"Move in with me," his palm settled on your cheek, thumb brushing your skin. "I'll help with your classes and therapy. I'll take care of you. You can lean on me until you're strong enough to stand on your own. And even then, when you do — I still wanna be there. I wanna make you happy... Every day."
There it was. His heart, right in the palm of your hand, like an offering. Bleeding through your fingers. Willing to be crushed, if it meant at least he tried.
But you cradled it instead.
Fresh tears, sticking to your eyelashes, and then a rush of warmth in the dark. Your lips pressed into his, tender, and he shut his eyes, tasting a mixture of salt and your sweetness —
"I love you," a shaky exhale, right into his mouth.
It sank into him like sunlight, pulsing, nourishing and bright. And he swallowed it up with a kiss, his teeth clashing with yours.
He shifted to hover above you, finding rest in between your legs, goosebumps erupting when he felt your hand slip under his hoodie, inching it up.
A giggle slipped past his lips, and he disconnected himself from you only to take it off, throwing it aside carelessly before he was kissing you again.
He felt you smile. You went straight to his head like wine. Your taste, your scent — your touch, exploring the muscles of his back, his shoulders.
He was already hard, aching to get lost in you; dizzy on want and love.
Hands groping over clothes, wherever they could reach, hot lips trailing down your neck. He wanted to do so many things to you; kiss every inch of your skin, make you come on his tongue.
But you had the whole night — a whole eternity, really. And the way you squirmed beneath him, arching your back, legs parting, hips raising to feel him, urgent and breathy, wiped his mind clean off anything but the need to be inside you.
Jungkook groaned, his cock twitching, leaking precum into the cotton of his boxers. He remained still, however, letting your hand wander in between your bodies.
His eyes were glued to the way it traveled down his tensing abdomen, pausing to lower his sweats; then dipping inside.
He tried to stay quiet, though his chest was heaving, the sight and the feeling of your hand wrapping around his girth making it twitch again.
He watched you pull your panties aside, wet and ruined, revealing your pretty, glistening folds and the small entrance below.
So fucking small.
It looked almost obscene compared to his cock, long and thick and pulsating in your hand. But you fit him perfectly, like you were made just for him.
The moment you guided him forward, and the wet tip touched the heat of your cunt, he lifted his eyes to yours.
He felt so fucked out, but he was gentle as he pushed inside. The tight, wet muscle welcomed him eagerly, inch by inch, until his hips touched yours and he couldn't breathe.
For a moment, time stood still.
His head fell into the crook of your neck, inked hand squeezing your thigh.
"I missed you so much."
He sounded broken, but he's never felt so whole before.
"I missed you too..."
You clenched around him, prompting his hips to move off their own accord, coaxing the most beautiful sounds out of your body. The wetness, the smack of his skin against yours; the soft whines that fueled the heat boiling deep in his gut.
"Mmm," he moaned, raspy, "doing so well, baby."
He tried to stretch you out slowly, preoccupy himself with biting and sucking at your neck; anything not to focus on how you clenched around him.
But he was doomed, and he understood that the second you moved your hips, fucking him back.
"Oh shit," he gasped, "baby..."
He stifled another moan into your cheek, picking up his pace, so deep inside you he wondered if you could feel him in your tummy. The thought alone made his cock throb, every vein and ridge.
Long, ringed fingers wrapped around your throat, the pressure soft, but definitely there. In return, you grasped his shoulders, nails digging in, and Jungkook knew he wasn't going to last long.
"Good?" He breathed, slamming into you a little faster, stuck on your shining eyes and eager nods. "Yeah?"
The mattress began to protest under the force of his thrusts, but the sound was drowned out by everything else. Jungkook felt your cunt tightening, so warm and so fucking sloppy, his own little personal heaven.
"Almost there? Hm? Gonna make a mess for me?"
Clench.
He groaned, his tummy twisting, the moans spilling past your lips making his head spin.
You merely nodded again, as though you couldn't speak. It made the corner of his lips quirk upwards.
"Yeah?" He tightened his hold on your neck, staking his claim with a coo. "My girl's gonna make a mess on my cock? Pretty angel's gonna cream all over it?"
Your breath hitched, thighs beginning to quiver around him.
"Y-yeah," you uttered, breathless, "yours—"
Jungkook's tongue slid into your mouth, his rutting becoming desperate. He wanted to mark you and brand you and oh god — he was about to see stars.
"Yeah, fuck— mine, my good girl," he stuttered out, "oh, baby, mhmm, I'm gonna come—"
His hips bucked as your pussy spasmed around him, sucking his cock in deeper, restricting his movements. Still, he fucked you through your orgasm, letting himself go with a loud groan. A burst of stars, the tension snapping; and he spilled inside you, white ropes of hot cum that filled you up to the brim.
He slumped against you after a drawn out moment, his body thrumming with bliss. Careful not to crush you, however, he rolled over to the side, his arms automatically enveloping your frame.
With his nose in your neck, he waited for his breathing to even out, lazily rubbing your hands.
"So good," he mumbled, "fuck... Are you okay, baby?"
You hummed, snuggling into him.
"More than okay."
Jungkook smiled, opening his eyes and pressing a kiss into your cheek.
"I'll wash you up in a sec."
"In a bit... Stay with me."
"I'm staying with you forever. Good luck getting rid of me now."
Your laughter sent a pang through his chest. He wanted to keep hearing it.
He brought your hand up to his lips, gently kissed each wounded finger, muttering his I love yous and praises until you both drifted off. Sated and warm under the sheets, tangled up in each other; with a single promise echoing through his head.
Never again would he let you hurt like this.
And whatever was happening outside of these four walls hardly mattered.
This was all that mattered.
This was home.
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nerdpoe · 3 months
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Dick gets his drink mixed up with another persons in the library while visiting Barbara.
He was drinking some kale smoothie thing, for health and stuff, and he set it down to grab a book from the shelf. There was another guy next to him, who also had a smoothie in the same kind of shake-n-go bottle.
They swapped by accident.
Dick checked out his book, said goodbye to Barbara, and took a sip of his smoothie.
That's the last thing he remembers.
He wakes up two days later pinned down by a practically feral Jason, who's eyes are glowing a sickly Lazarus green, with Bruce, Tim, Cass, and Duke all showing signs of losing a fight. He's sore everywhere, and Damian is nowhere to be seen.
"Uh...." his voice cracks, and he's suddenly aware of how fucking painful his throat is. "Hi? What's going on?"
"...Is it really you, Dickwing? I swear to God if it isn't and this is another-"
"Jay I really don't know what's going on, man."
Jason doesn't believe him. Dick is cuffed with anti-meta cuffs and escorted to the cave, where Bruce demands test after test and Dick tells them the last thing he remembers.
Apparently, after taking that sip, his eyes had turned to Lazarus green, and he had beelined for the mansion. Along the way there, he had run into the Riddler.
He had broken most of the Riddler's bones.
That was when everyone had been called in to subdue Dick, who for some strange reason kept gunning for Damian. Hence, Damian was upstairs and not allowed down until they were sure Dick was okay again.
It's concluded that Dick drank some alternate form of Lazarus Water, lost his mind, proceeded to take everyone out with enhanced strength and speed except Jason, who had entered a Pit episode just to keep up, and worked through it two days after consumption.
But who the fuck transported a material as dangerous as modified Lazarus Water in a fucking shake-n-go bottle?
Danny, however, is a little sad that his ecto-shake was stolen by some rando at the library.
Their kale smoothie was pretty good though.
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arvandus · 10 months
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Gojo had never intended to make you cry.  Sure, he teased you.  Maybe a little bit too much.  But he never wanted to actually hurt you.  He was a cocky ass, but he wasn’t an asshole.
That’s what he wanted to tell himself anyway, even as your wide eyes brimmed with tears that clung to your lashes.  It felt like a punch to the gut when the first tear fell.
Without even thinking, his hand came up to gently cup your cheek.  “Don’t...” he whispered.  His thumb swiped away at the wet track.  “Don’t cry.”
But it was too late; more tears fell, leaving wet lines in their wake, the droplets clinging to your chin. He hated the sight of them; hated the way they documented his failure, a sentence of guilt written in watercolor against skin he’d admired with every sideways glance.
He wanted to make them disappear, to extinguish them and replace them with warmth.  To take your trembling lips and make them smile again.  Gojo cradled your face in both of his hands, his large, calloused thumbs wiping away at your tears.  You closed your eyes, caught up in the way your heart twisted in your chest at the warmth of his touch.
You felt his forehead touch yours, his soft hair cushioned between you.  “I’m sorry...” he whispered. “I didn’t mean...”
Gojo’s words died on his lips as he felt more fresh, hot tears catch on his thumbs, heard you sniffle and try to hide the soft sob that wanted to unfurl from within your chest. 
His air left his lungs, a slow panic building at the possibility that maybe, this time, a sorry wouldn’t be enough. That maybe, this time, there was no such thing as forgiveness, and that he’d never again get to see you smile at him.
“I’m sorry...” he repeated, as his lips pressed gently against your forehead.  You froze beneath his affection, stunned.
He didn’t stop there.  His lips traveled lower, brushing against your wet lashes, against your cheeks, each time echoing his apology in earnest supplication.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Finally, he came to your still-trembling lips, the soft flesh wet where you’d licked with your tongue, although whether it was in anticipation of his lips or to taste your own tears, he wasn’t sure.  Gojo hesitated, for just the slightest fraction of a moment, waiting...
And then you gave it to him, the sign he was looking for. The ever so subtle tilt of your chin, the flutter of lashes as you peaked at him through the dew drops in hope.
His lips met yours, soft and gentle, your face still gently cupped in his hands. You finally responded, returning the kiss with your hands wrapping around his neck, your fingers curling into his hair at the nape of his neck.
Gojo pulled away just enough to be able to speak, his lips barely brushing yours.  Your eyes were open now, staring into his, and for a moment the universe consisted of just the two of you, two celestial bodies drawn together by the gravity of your hearts.
“Does this mean I’m forgiven...?” he whispered.
“No.” you replied with a grin.
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nipuni · 2 months
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THE DOCTOR We had a pact, him and me. Every star in the universe, we were going to see them all.
My version of The Master and The Doctor in their Academy days 😊
A speedpaint video of this will be available at my Patreon on april 1st!
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sugarlywhispers · 6 months
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Katsuki is trying—FUCK, he really is fucking trying not to make a sound, but it's way more difficult than what people think.
And when he hears the door to the hallway open, he immediately reacts covering his bed and himself, bringing the covers almost to his naked chest. He grabs a book that is in his nightstand and he pretends to the best of his ability to be immerse in reading that stupid book.
Two knocks to the door of his room can be heard and he fakingly sighs in annoyance as he says, "come in".
The distinctive red hair of his roommate appears first before his face, "Everything alright, man?" Kirishima smiles.
Katsuki rolls his eyes in real annoyance this time before replying a simple yes. He feels a thick drop of nervous sweat rolling down behind his neck that he is very skilled to hide by simply scratching the back of his neck, but it seems Eijirou hasn't noticed yet. The blond is very proud to admit that he is good at hiding. Stuff. And emotions.
The red head nods before saying, "Hey, Y/N is coming over for dinner. I don't want to bother you, but do me a favor? Be sweet to her. She kinda has a crush on you."
Katsuki pulls up an eyebrow, looking as oblivious as he can, "Oh, really? I had no idea..."
Eijirou rolls his eyes at his best friend, "Of course you didn't. You of all people wouldn't know even if she confessed right at your face."
Katsuki doesn't answer back.
"Anyway, I'm going out to buy some groceries. Need something?"
"Nope," he answers, his attention back to the book he is actually not reading. Eijirou nods as he closes the door again and walks out.
Katsuki doesn't dare to move until he actually hears the front door of the apartment open and close. And that's when he can't avoid the snort that it's stuck at his throat, waiting for desperate release. Next to him, the covers finally move as you peak from under them, frowning in annoyance at him.
"Shut the fuck up," you protest, your hair tangled all around, cheeks cutely rosy and sweat obviously thanks to the thick covers. He can't help but laugh out loud. "It's not funny!"
You try hard not to laugh with him as you climb up, straddling his hips, your glorious naked body making him distracted from his previous amusement. He sits up too, big and strong arms surrounding your waist as you interlace your fingers with his hair at the back of head.
You both smile at each other, your nose caressing his cutely, and he feels like eating you up.
"So you have a crush on me, hmm?"
"Shut up," you say, hips beginning to move to create friction between your naked bodies as your lips find his again. Tongues fitting to gain control as his hands travel down to your ass to guide you in your movements.
A crush? Oh dear... if Eijirou only knew...
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a.n; y/n and kirishima are best friends too. only katsuki and y/n are kinda(?) dating (?) fucking (?) fwb (?) lol idk 🙃
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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DCxDP: Immunity system
Danny gets confused for Tim Drake when he stop for gas in Gotham on his way to visit Dan. His clone had set up shop- a literary comic book shop- in Metropolis.
Danny was going for the weekend to help him run the red dot sale and also spend time with his Clone turned older brother.
Dan after being released from his prison and getting a Core Cleanse in the FarFrozen ectoplasm iced pools, had mellowed out greatly.
It turns out Dan had gone mad after suffering a dip in contaminated ectoplasm. He called it "Pit Madness" and Clockwork assured him it was a real medical condition
Much like getting bitten by a rabies-infected animal, Dan's condition was not his fault despite turning him violent.
After the Big Reveal with his parents - who took the news surprisingly well- Team Phantom introduced Elle and Dan to them.
The two clones had been quickly made official Fentons and now Danny had an older brother and a young sister.
Elle lived at home with Danny and his parents, but Jazz and Dan moved out after high school graduation. Danny was thinking of moving in with Dan to go to college.
He wasn't sure, but he still had a whole year to decide.
Danny found a gas station within his GPS map and stopped at the closest one. There weren't a lot of people around, so he assumed that was a slow day.
He was not aware the locals avoided the area due to the danger of feuding gangs. He was also unaware that while pumping the gas, a Scarecrow goon was watching him.
That goon knew his boss had been getting a bit bored with his experiments, and he knew it wouldn't be long before his boss turned on his employees to relieve his boredom.
He was just starting to sweat, thinking he would be the new genuine pig until Tim Drake himself rolled out of a beat up car in the bad part of town.
He practically gift-wrapped himself for Scarecrow! The goon grins, creeping up behind the distracted young man.
One of the employees' inside the gas station had clocked Tim Drake too and had been staring at him - how could he not when Tim was a Bi icon?- and sees the moment the goon covers the boy's mouth with a clotch and yank him into a van that speeds away.
For a moment, the employee only gawked after the speeding vehicle, too shook to do anything as it disappears around a corner.
He scrambles for his phone to call 911. He prays that his slow reaction does not cost Drake's life.
(His call's transcript pings on Oracle's program designed to pick up the civilian names of the Bats if ever used in the emergency hotlines)
Sadly it is hours before the Bats have even an idea of where Tim (actually Danny) was taken to.
Danny wakes up in a warehouse, strapped to a table. He only had a brief moment of thinking his worst fear was coming true ,his parents, were going to rip him apart molecular by molecular, despite it being two years since they learn.
Thankfully a man dressed in a ridiculous Halloween costume steps into the light and he knows it's not his parents.
"Lovely expression Mr. Drake. Let's see how lovely that fear truly is," the man says in a raspy voice, holding up a needle. He stabs Danny with it and the boy blanches as the hot liquid enters his blood stream.
A minute goes by.
Two.
Three.
"Ugh was that supposed to do something?" He questioned, moving around his restraints to check his chances of escape without outing himself as Phantom.
The camera pointing at him limits his options.
The man dressed as Scarecrow lets out a gleeful cackle. He doesn't answer Danny, instead turning to the door- from where Danny can lift his head, it looks like he's in a basement of some kind- and shouts, "Bring me experiment six two six!"
A bulky man comes in carrying a tray of tubes. Danny watches as Scarecrow carefully selects a tube and pours it into another needle. "Lets see how you handle this"
The answer is Danny handles it very well. In fact he takes all seven tubes without a single reaction. Honestly it's the needle that's a real bother.
Scarecrow is both impressed and slightly insulted by the end of it. "How did a simpleton chloroform work on you but not my brilliant science!?"
Danny squints at him. "I would call this many things but never science, let alone brilliant, you fruitloop."
He gets knocked out again for his cheek with a new chloroform rag.
He wakes to the same made leaning over him again, but this time, there is also a clown in purple. Danny can only stare as the clown cackles.
"I think you're losing your special touch if Tim Drake is immune to your Fear Gas." The clown says, and Danny wonders if a costume convention exists in town.
Danny is happy to see that besides being knocked out and tied him down they haven't really done anything to him. "Who are you supposed to be?"
The clown face spams before a wide, mad grin breaks across his face. If Danny were to look of the definition of madness in a dictionary he knows this guy would be the example for it.
"I'm just a simple chum who wants to see the world laugh," The clown tells him, holding a squirt flower in Danny's face. "Let's see that smile!"
Danny squeaks as the liquid splashes in his face, some going up his nose. He coughs while the two men stare intensely at him.
After a moment Danny gets himself under control. "Ugh what was that? Is smell nasty"
The clown face freezes, rage bleeding into his eyes as the scarecrow one scoffs "seem you are also losing your touch, chum"
"No no no. Our little friend just needs a higher dosage! I'll have him laughing in no time!"
He doesn't. After a gas tank full of that nasty-smelling stuff is forced onto his face, and five different needles stabbed into his arm the clown is forced to admit Danny is immune.
They still call him "Mr. Drake" even though Danny tells them between needles that's not his name.
After hours of attempting to get a reaction out of him- both by clown and scarecrow- , Danny is knocked out again by the little rag.
When he comes two three people stand over him. The two from before, though clown now looks murderous and scarecrow politely interested, and a women in green with leaves splat across her outfit.
So Danny got kidnapped by a Scarecrow, a clown, and a nymph? Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.
The gas mask is forced back onto his face and another Danny struggles he can do nothing as he is forced to breath in a new gas.
The woman watches his reaction with a keen eye before nodding "He should be pretty far gone now"
Scarecrow shakes his head. "There isn't a single reaction. He isn't affected by your pheromones."
The woman scoffs, leaning over Danny and fluttering her eyelashes "You're going to kill dear old dad for me"
Danny glares at her. "Like hell, I will."
His voice is muffled by the mask but they hear him and the woman actually looks shocked "He might need a higher dosage "
"By all means, give it a try. Neither Joker or I saw a difference in Mr.Drake even after adjusting his intake."
"How is that possible?"
"Maybe because you all suck!"
The clown slams his hands on the table. "I am one of the best chemists in the world, brat!"
"And the ugliest!"
Danny doesn't see the knife until it's pressed repeatedly into his left leg. He screams around his mask as the Clown spits and swears at him.
The other two only watch, neither seemingly bothered by the man stabbing a teenager.
Then the knife is plunged into his stomach, and he screams as the world almost whites out in agony.
Danny, blinks the white hot pain, and is just barely thinking of going ghost when the door bursts open and a group of people wearing more costumes pour in.
A man dressed as a Bat flings the clown away with an outraged cry. Danny can't see where the clown lands, but he hears fighting all around him.
A boy in a hood and mask appears in his line of sight. There is a worried frown on his face as he quickly picks at the locks keeping Danny down "Do not worry, Drake, we are here."
Danny finally gives in to the pain, running to blissful darkness as a man in a red helmet lifts him off the bed and makes a run for the door.
The kid provided cover for them.
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anyanary · 6 days
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Trying to find fics of them, that don’t include sad Binghe should be considered an Olympic sport
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toruslvt · 1 month
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⋆ BOOTHILL’S FIRST TIME WATCHING A PUSSY
mdni. f!reader, oral reader receiving.
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it should be embarrassing really, the way boothill so awestruck stares at your cunt, puffy and slick with his cold fingers spreading on the inviting folds, tempting with the idea of having your sensitive skin wrapped around his rough, heavy metal cock.
pink tongue darting out to lick his lips, fighting back the urge to just flip you over and slam his girth inside your begging pussy, and instead, leaning down to tentatively lick across your slit, addicted to your smell and taste, “fuck..., angel, what a pretty pussy y’got” he huffs, and it’s not as if he’ve seen many, but Boothill is certain yours is the prettiest.
and you’ll let him indulge a bit, don’cha?, all spread and whiney, chest heaving with each deep inhalation of your pretty parted lips, and all for him, hm? Boothill is unable to stop the way his tongue shifts from licking to fully trusting into your cunt, mimicking the way his cock will be bullying inside you in just a couple of minutes.
you’re like a fuckin’ vision, your moans and shaky fingers tangling on his hair, urging him to go faster, deeper, sloppily making out with your cunt with proper care as not to hurt you with his sharp teeth.
and if he could actually cum, he’d already be making a mess solely from the sweet taste of you.
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charliem-69 · 4 months
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it seems we'll never meet again
commission me
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ghouljams · 4 months
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The Ghost distribution system will always work to your advantage.
Your heat goes out, it's barely 10 degrees outside(feels like -6), and Ghost shows up to see how the cold is treating you. Really he came by to shovel your walkway, maybe put some salt down, but you open your door with a blanket around your shoulders and explain that you just called the HVAC guy, and he just shoulders past you. He makes you sit in his warm truck, while he checks your heater, comes back to the car with a cup of tea for you just to make sure you're comfortable.
You can try telling him he's doing too much, but he wont hear a word. Comes back a second time to tell you he knows what's wrong, "just need a new part." Which is great! And would be fine news except that means he has to go to the hardware store, and you'll be left in your cold house. Except, no. Ghost makes it clear you're coming with him, he can't leave you in the cold, so you get dragged to the store and he buys you lunch to make up for it. It's really worth it to see you tucking into your food, eager for the warmth of the store and the diner.
He pulls you down onto the couch after he fixes the heat, wraps a big arm around your shoulders so you can cuddle against his side. He radiates warmth like a furnace, so you may as well take advantage of that while you wait for the house to warm up. Ghost doesn't mind, this is his reward for working hard, this is why he keeps coming back.
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