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loveharlow · 2 years

Text

LET ME SHOW YOU

PAIRING‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [2.1k] JJ teaches his girlfriend how to indulge in the wonders of his favorite hobby.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, a heated make-out session, mentions of/illusions to sex, drug use, my poor descriptions of smoking

A/N‧₊˚ I lowkey (highkey) had fun with this. Stay safe and make good life decisions.

˗ˏˋ jj masterlist ˎˊ˗

ENTERING THE CHATEAU, YOU SPOTTED JOHN B LAID OUT ON HIS SOFA. He was on his phone, texting rapidly and biting his lip. Weird. His eyes drifted to you from the phone clutched in his hands as he heard the screen door close behind you. His eyes went wide and he dropped the phone, cheeks flushing a deep shade of red.

“Uh, hey. I didn’t know you were stopping by.”

“I’m just looking for JJ.” You told him, eyeing him skeptically. “He told me to meet him here.”

Adjusting the hat on his head, he gestured for the front door. “He’s out in the Twinkie. I told him I didn’t want him smoking in the house.” Nodding and mumbling a thanks to the brunette boy, You turned on your feet to leave the same way you came in.

With your hand on the door handle, you turned to face him once more.

“John B?”

“Hm?”

“If you’re going to sext your girlfriend, don’t do it in your living room with the door unlocked.” You teased. And with that, you were walking out of The Chateau, leaving a flustered John B behind and hearing his ‘fuck you’ as the door slammed shut.

APPROACHING THE VAN PARKED OUTSIDE THE CHATEAU, YOU BANGED ON THE BACK DOORS. “It’s me!” You stepped back a couple feet as the door swung open, your boyfriend revealing himself with a joint hanging from his lips, hair messy, and clouds of faint smoke billowing out around him that, no doubt, had been collecting in the air. He smiled around the object in between in lips and held a hand out to help you into the foggy van.

Once inside, he shut the doors again and plopped down on the floor of the rickety vehicle. It was mildly smokey and a little humid. JJ pulled the small object from his between his lips so he could speak clearly. “Hi, pretty girl.” He cooed, clearly already a little buzzed. He was sitting against the side of the van, legs outstretched in front of him with a lit joint pinched between his fingers. His eyes, however, were on you. Scanning your frame up and down, almost hungrily.

Sitting down across from him, legs in the same outstretched position, you cocked an eyebrow. “Stop looking at me like that.”

He shrugged. "Can't help it."

JJ knew the affect he had on you, as did you. When he would do certain things, say certain things...He could make your head spin so easily. “Why’d you call me so early? I thought we were hanging out with everyone later.”

“I’m just wanted to see my girl.”

“You miss me that much?” You joked with a slight smile and shake of your head. “C’mon, J. What do you really want?” You inquired nudging your knee against his.

He took a hit of his joint, blowing the smoke out and throwing his head back. His eyes met yours as a smug grin crept its way onto his features. He held out the joint in your direction. “Smoke this with me.”

To say you were surprised was an understatement. You weren't against smoking or drinking but you've only ever indulged in the latter. You'd never been too intrigued by the idea of weed or smoking in general. “I have no idea how to do that.” You chuckled, lifting your shoulders nervously.

JJ rolled his eyes with a smile and leaned forward to grab your wrist, tugging you towards him. You put up no fight, letting him guide you gently until you were perched in his lap, legs on either side of him as he made sure to hold the lit object away from you as not to accidentally burn you.

“Let me show you.” He shrugged, unbothered. “If you want.”

Suddenly, you found it much hotter inside the spacious vehicle. The smoke in the air not helping. You nodded and tried to ignore the growing heat in your cheeks. JJ smiled and licked his lips. His free hand fell to your hip, holding you in place.

He brought the joint, that was now a more of a stub, up to his lips. Smoking the last of it, he exhaled the smoke to the left as to not blow it directly into your face and put it out in the ashtray next to him. You frowned and pinched my eyebrows together at the action. “...Why did you do that?”

“There wasn’t enough left to teach you anything. ‘M gonna roll a new one.” He spoke causally, noting your fallen and confused expression. “I promise you’ll get your lesson, mama.” He teased with a wink.

Twisting his body lightly, he picked up a plastic bag and some metal cylinder-type thing that were next to the ashtray. He sat them both on his lap between you two, taking one of the green-ish buds out of the bag and holding it out to you. Taking it, you immediately noted the way it stuck lightly to the tips of your fingers. “Why is it so sticky?”

“Realistically? Because of some kind of substance it produces. I don’t know what it’s called. But, the way I see it? It’s sticky because I paid too much for it not to be.” He jokes, plucking the herb cluster from your nimble fingers.

Lifting the top of the small contraption, revealing little spikes and holes inside—he transferred some of the contents of the bag into it. “Do you know what this is?”

“Mm...no.”

“It’s an herb grinder. You put the buds in here-” He grabbed the top that he removed earlier. “-put this back on.” Sealing the object, now with the herbs inside—he turned the top part of it around a couple times. “You’re gonna rotate the top. This’ll grind everything up and separate it.”

“Which does what, exactly?”

“Makes it easier to smoke and burn evenly. More smooth.”

JJ’s eyes were hooded and he was clearly relaxed. It was fascinating to see him teach you something while in his hazy state. But it was also kind of hot. He stopped rotating the top of it and went to unscrew the second part. When he opened it, he revealed the ground herbs. “This is the part we’ll smoke. Don’t smoke anything from the third chamber-” He said firmly, pointing to the very bottom of the herb grinder. “-down here.”

“Why not?” You asked curiously, still looking at the contents.

He chuckled at your peaked curiosity of it all. “That is called Kief, sweetheart. And someone like you doesn’t want any parts of that. It’s strong, as fuck.”

“But you can smoke it?”

“Yes, but you won’t. Not today, anyway.” He consoled, placing a quick kiss to your warm cheek. He set the grinder down beside the ashtray, still within reach, and picked up a rectangular, thin package. “This is rolling paper.” He concluded, plucking a sheet carefully and holding it lengthwise. Reaching over, he took some of the ground herbs and sprinkled it in the paper.

Once the paper was filled with the crushed buds, he rolled it into a tube-like shape, albeit slightly uneven, and sealed it with his tongue. He held it up between our faces with a dopey smile plastered on his face. “And there we have it.” He nudged it closer to you, a sign to take it from him.

When it was clasped between your two fingers, JJ fished around in his pockets for a lighter, slightly moving you around on his lap and throwing you off balance. Once he had the object, the hand that was empty was trailing up to hold the back of your neck. He held the lighter up, slightly wiggling it before he spoke.

“You’re gonna put that to your lips and when I finish lighting it, you’re going to inhale. Not too fast or deep and not for too long. You’re gonna cough but you’re good.” He assured. Flicking the lighter on, he raised an eyebrow. “Ready?”

You nodded and placed the small joint between your lips. JJ lit the opposite end and retracted the lighter away and let it die. “Inhale, carefully…” He coaxed.

The smoke filled your lungs, and it felt overwhelming. Your chest felt full and your throat tickled as JJ pulled the object from your lips, rubbing your hip as you coughed clouds of smoke. He started laughing and you weakly swatted his chest.

“You did good. You inhaled a little too long, though.” He grabbed his backpack on his left and unzipped it, taking out a bottle of water from inside. Unscrewing the cap with the joint clutched between his fingers like a cigarette, he tilted your chin up. “Open.” He ordered. You obliged without question, still coughing mildly. He poured the water into your mouth and pulled it back, pushing your chin up to close your mouth.

You swallowed, the mildly cool beverage cooling the walls of your throat and soothing the dryness as he sealed the bottle and threw it to the side. Once Iyou felt confident enough to speak again, you leveled your eyes with your boyfriend’s. “That wasn’t too bad.”

“Can you feel anything?”

“A little. It’s like, I can feel it working it’s way through me but it’s not there yet. It feels weird, but good.”

“Wanna shotgun?”

“...Do I want to what now?” You asked with mild uncertainty. JJ cracked a little smile and shook his head with a slight giggle. Repositioning the joint between his fingers, he brought it up to his lips and took a hit. Once he pulled it away, he leaned forward—his free hand lightly wrapping around the base of your throat as he brushed his lips over mine and blew the smoke into my mouth, you proceeding to inhale almost on instinct.

Your heart was beating so fast and you didn’t know if it was the weed or the blonde boy in front of you. You blew the smoke back out on a shaky breath, your eyes drifting down to his lips.

You didn’t even register the movement he made to connect his lips with your own until you felt the familiar, pillowy-soft feeling of his lips, the slight tinge and warmth of your activities swirling around in the exchange. His lips moved against your, slow but firm—his lips were slightly dry but not chapped and he tasted of something that was so…him.

The hand resting on your throat tightened in the slightest of ways as the hand holding the blunt disposed of it in the ashtray before coming up to hold the side of your face. Your own hands roamed the hair at the back of his neck as you shifted on his lap, eliciting a low grunt from the boy underneath you.

You could feel the effects slowly starting to hit you by the second. Your body felt light, but not to the point where you felt like you were floating or flying. It felt like a weight was lifted off of your shoulders that you didn't even know was there.

His tongue came out to swipe against your bottom lip, a silent request for entrance. You parted them for him as his tongue invaded your mouth. No fight for dominance as you let him do as he pleased.

You pulled away from the kiss, slightly out of breath, and pulled your shirt over your head. Revealing your bra underneath as JJ’s eyes went slightly wide and he bit his lip.

“Smoking with me and sex in the Twinkie? Have I corrupted you?” He asked teasingly. You rolled my eyes and scoffed.

“You did that a long time ago.”

YOU ROLLED OFF OF JJ AND ONTO THE FLOOR OF THE TWINKIE—breathing heavy, stray pieces of hair frizzy and out of place, lips swollen and a blanket draped over your hot, sweaty bodies. Turning to JJ, he was in a similar state, his cheeks flushed pink and hair sticking out in ten-thousand different directions, some hickeys and scratch marks starting to take a dark pink color on his chest.

“Y’know-” He started, sitting up on an elbow to trace a finger up along your prominent collar bone. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You couldn't help but smile, your cheeks heating up and starting to ache. You were about to speak when the doors of the van flew open, your wild eyes flying to John B who stood at the foot of the van.

“Oh shit.” He exclaimed, taking in the scene around him. You pulled the blanket up further, muttering a 'jesus' while JJ hissed a 'close the door man'.

John B shut the doors quickly as you looked around for your shirt and shorts, JJ handing them to you while trying to hold in a laugh. You took the clothes and shot him a glare. “Really?!” John B shouted from outside. “In my van? The Twinkie?! C’mon guys.”

Once you both were dressed and cleaned up your mess in the van, JJ opened the doors and motioned for you to jump out first, him following. John B was leaned up against the other side and pushed off to walk over to us as JJ shut the doors.

“The others just got here.” He said, eyes narrowed as he pointed a finger at you and JJ. “You two are disinfecting my entire van when we get back.” He turned around and stomped back into the Chateau, mumbling something under his breath and shaking his head in disapproval.

JJ laughed while fixing his shirt around and you elbowed his arm softly. “JJ! That was not funny.” You shook your head in slight embarrassment.

JJ looked at you pitifully and slung his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Aw, don’t worry, my little stoner. He’ll forget about it.”

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #obx jj #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x fem!reader #obx jj maybank #obx fanfiction #obx netflix #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank fanfiction

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firewolf-pyro · 10 months

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10. BETRAYAL

Scene: we open in the room Henry has been placed in, the medical devices that were connected to him are away and Henry is resting under the pale blue blankets with a Dalek mutant resting on his lap. On a stool besides the bed sits Rose who is turned towards a small tv that has been brought in and set on a cart of sorts. Both of them seem to be watching the mutant on Henry’s lap while the creature's eye is turned to watch the screen.

Rose: “It has barely moved.”

Actions: she observes as she looks to the screen that the mutant was staring into. The screen had some kind of stop motion kids show playing. It seemed to be interactive of sorts at the character looked out of the screen at them.

Henry: “you should feel his mind right now, completely blank. Usually it’s nothing but stress and rage and hate but- just… zone out… nothing but static.”

Actions: he insists as he rests a hand on the head mass of the creature. He glances down then back up at the screen.

Rose: “Is he always in your head? Can you always feel what this thing is feeling?”

Actions: she leans over to look at Henry who had started to fall into the same trance like state the more he looked at the tv.

Henry: “agh? Wh? Oh, kind of? I can’t always hear what he is thinking- he can block my thoughts … but I can’t block his- if he wants me to know something or he wants to know something in me- he can just… dig for it… the feeling is- not painful but- it’s like someone yanks the steering wheel away from you.”

Actions: he explains softly as he pets the form of the Dalek mutant resting on his lap.

Rose: “oh…”

Actions: she stares down worriedly at the mutant resting there.

Scene: the camera fades to looking out a window into the snowy wilderness. We get a sense that time is going by very fast, watching the clouds in the sky darken and collect. Then the storm is released, the snow storm so thick it blurs the world outside. Camera fades out opening back into an open laboratory with a damaged blue casing resting beside the island counter. Olesia is standing by the counter laying down battery packs as she watches Blueton move from shelf to shelf.

Olesia: “so… Why does your empire hate you so much?”

Actions: she asks as she begins to hook the power cells up into the now opened casing.

Blueton: “You already know the reason, they find me insane.”

Actions: he insists as he clambers back down from one of the counters holding a small container of some sort of silver powder.

Olesia: “I know the just but, you haven’t gone into detail on what exactly provoked you into doing what you did…”

Actions: she murmured as she sat back to observe her work. The energy source at the base of the casing barely let off a glow.

Blueton: “why, why I went against them?”

Actions: they clambered into the casing and opened the jar of silver powder. He began pouring it into the basin of the energy source.

Olesia: “Please…”

Actions: she squats down to observe the other as they worked.

Blueton: “Everything was fine- fek what I recall… from- very early on. Just- fine… monotonous- repetitive. Science projects, study’s on war to better eradicate the Thal- … hmm.”

Actions: he closes the energy source. The basin begins to admit a very strong blue glow.

Blueton: “The Prime and… The old emperor. Both are still so foggy in my recollection- I held no ill will towards them, towards my others… Until the debate began- on what status we held over the other Kaleds around us- what we felt was correct to do with the species that made us… the man that made us.”

Actions: he moved up and began removing burnt out slides from the neck section of the casing. He let them fall to the floor below them.

Olesia: “So it was both a moral debate and the start of a political debate?”

Actions: she asks as she pulls the burnt out sections over to herself and sets them on the counter beside her.

Blueton: “Yes? No? I… do not recall. I will stand by my beliefs however, Daleks are their own rulers. We will not bend to any who wish us to - not even the one who created us. They are not a god, we are not his pawns.”

Actions: her turns to face Olesia, his tendrils keeping him centered in the casing.

Blueton: “Some did not agree… That was my first taste of a political break. It was… also my first taste of Dalek on Dalek warfare.”

Actions: he gestures towards the power banks on the counter.

Blueton: “flick the first switch, the central power needs to charge before the rest can absorb the flow into the nanotechnology.”

Actions: he stated idly.

Olesia: “Wait- so you went through a revolution? Daleks had a revolution? Huh… somehow that does not make sense to me.”

Actions: she turns and flicks one of the switches on the power bank. A soft hum fills the room as the glow in the power source begins to glow brighter.

Blueton: “correct… It was not… It still is not. Sure we can keep a close watch on genetics and mark who is more superior than who based on them but…. We were also focused on motivations and alliances…. It was- unbelievably confusing. It started some questions that no one has answered to this point. Past that those questions only burned brighter the further off world we got.”

Actions: he turns towards the central slots in the neck section then began poking at the slots.

Actions: “power levels are remaining stable.”

Olesia: “Sorry… I don’t get it.”

Blueton: “Neither do I. Something happened during one of those planetary battles that really messed with me- I…do not know what but - none of the other Daleks seemed to take notice. The repetitivity of the hive mind was agony. The drive to explore further out of our solar system was the only thing keeping me sane… I wanted to know more, more about the stars and the life surrounding them…”

Actions: he stared down at the ground for a moment before continuing.

Blueton: “more about how they battled, how their war worked- how their civilizations worked around their wars…”

Olesia: “So that was what started it then? Something you experienced in one of the wars on your homeworld?”

Actions: she stood up on her knees to look over the power levels on the power cells.

Blueton: “yes?”

Olesia: “Blueton… How old are you?”

Actions: she sits back down and leans in on her knees to stare into the eye of the Dalek mutant.

Blueton: “I… Anyways- the Mechanoids really proved to push whatever was … My creativity along with the creative opinions of the others were tested to their limits and expanded upon. I earned my title as strategist then and there.”

Actions: he glared down at Olesia for a long minute.

Blueton: “Why am I telling you this?”

Actions: he begins to pull back, their tendrils cooling as they clamber further up towards the dome of their casing.

Olesia: “Because you like me, you find comfort in me. But if you are as old as I think you are… Why aren’t you a pile of black mush?.”

Actions: she insisted as she reached her hand up towards Blueton. She looks very confident.

Blueton: “Disgusting. I can personally thank the Mevolans for that.”

Actions: he stares at the offered hand. Hesitantly he reaches a single tendril but barely lets it touch the tip of her fingers.

Blueton: “I can not do this- you are not a Dalek - this is wrong-“

Actions: he pulls back completely, getting a soft frown from Olesia.

Olesia: “one step forward two steps back.”

Actions: she huffs and stands up. She dusts herself off and peers over the energy levels again.

Olesia: “It’s okay Blueton, I Won't push it any further than that.”

Actions: she sighs and watches just over her shoulder as Blueton scrambles off of their casing back towards some of the cupboards. They pause briefly to look over the symbols on a fridge before continuing on.

Scene: the camera turns away from the two before opening into the large open entryway of the facility’s above ground area. We can see that the snow from the storm has piled up against the tall windows. The area is mostly empty, only a few people sitting with their tablets of laptops on sofas in the wide open space. The camera continues its rotation pausing on Olesia, Henry and a freshly healed blue and silver casing strolling along behind them. Henry is back in blue jeans and a colorful t-shirt, a bright orange sweater with the facility’s logo on its sleeves pulled on over it.

Henry: “So- this is definitely not the planet we were meant to land on - right?”

Actions: he looks up at the ceiling watching the rafters creak and groan as the wind howels outside.

Olesia: “I doubt it? Daleks really do not do well in the cold.”

Actions: she cackled before finding an open couch and claiming a spot for herself and Henry.

Henry: “to be honest, neither do humans- I’m lucky to still have all of my fingers and toes after being stranded out in the snow and ice like that. I was out there for hours.”

Actions: he grumbled and sits down next to her. He looks up to the casing in front of him and cackles.

Henry: “hah! No room for the drone here- move along move along!”

Actions: he smirks to the eyestalk that turns to stare down at the both of them. They are silent before turning and continuing towards the windows.

Olesia: “He’s still touchy about our conversation earlier… I think he came to some odd conclusions about himself.”

Actions: she sighs and rubs her face as she watches the Dalek pause at the windows. She lets out a grumble as she watches the Doctor and Rose stroll towards the lone Dalek.

Olesia: “Aaaannndd now we’re going to have to go save him again from the clutches of the ruthless oncoming storm.”

Actions: she makes to stand but Henry grabs her shoulder.

Henry: “Stop… He talked to you? Like, actually talked to you?”

Actions: he holds onto her arm until she relaxes back into her seat.

Olesia: “Yes, he did.”

Henry: “Like, not just barking orders or accidental mental

Flashes of memories or thoughts? Just, straight up talked to you?!”

Actions: he looks in awe glancing from Okesia to the Dalek then back again. He sits up a bit as he listens to her.

Olesia: “yes, he started to explain why he was doing what he was doing- or… well, less of why and more of like- giving some backstory as to why he was like what he is like now? I don’t know it was confusing I think he is just as confused as we are.”

Actions: she whispers and glanced over her shoulder back towards the Dalek who is now against the window with the Doctor talking at him - keeping him from moving away.

Henry: “Man- then we really are puppets to an insanely broken entity.”

Actions: he leans back with a huff, just watching the eyestalk of the Dalek turn from the Doctor to Rose then back again.

Olesia: “yup… But- he is starting to open up, which- I suppose is a miracle for anyone to experience with any sort of Dalek.”

Actions: she smiles then looks to Henry, poking his side a bit.

Olesia: “Do you remember those little things in the bio-tanks? I think the planet we were meant to land on would have had something more to do with them.”

Actions: she insists idly, ignoring the mess going on behind her.

Henry: “the tiny squids…”

Actions: he nods and keeps his eyes looking past Olesia to the situation unfolding over by the blue casing.

Okesia: “yes, I saw the files the Doctor opened, I knew the planned trajectory of our craft… but I didn’t know the history of the planet. It was some kind of mining planet- an abandoned attempt of conquest from the old Daleks.”

Actions: she turned to look over her shoulder one more moment before looking back at Henry.

Henry: “why would we want to go to an abandoned sector? Wouldn’t the Daleks of all creatures have abandoned it for good reason?”

Actions: he begins to stand when he hears shouting coming from the direction of the Dalek. It sounds as if the Doctor is shouting about how manipulative the Daleks are and how dare he command two people like they were puppets.

Olesia: “Maybe that’s the point? Hide in plain sight or… right under his empire's nose?”

Actions; she suggests and stretches as she stands. Both of them start walking towards the red in the face Doctor who was being pushed to the side by Rose.

Henry: “So raise an army right there- but if they abandoned it, it has to be dangerous…”

Actions: he picks up his face to a careful jog along Olesia’s side.

Olesia: “Better that than have them find him now- right?”

Actions: she slows just as they get to the Doctor who is still shouting at the Dalek.

Doctor: “You are a slave owner, how can you not see this?”

Actions: he snarls pointing his finger at the Dalek. He is being pushed back via Rose who is trying to call him down.

Rose: “Doctor stop, you’ve tried to explain to it the morals of what it’s done - it clearly doesn’t get it.”

Actions: she says sternly as she pushes him away. Olesia walks to the left of her while Henry is at the right, with all three of them they pull him a few good feet away from the Dalek letting it move away from the window it had been backed up against.

Doctor: “Or it just refuses to believe it itself!”

Actions: he shouts as he glared over Rose.

Olesia: “It doesn’t matter, Doctor- we’re stuck with him until I find a way to prevent the nanotechnology coursing through our veins from messing with our brains.”

Actions: she says in a hushed and quick tone. Both Henry and Olesia release her he Doctor and step around to Rose’s side to keep him walked off away from the Dalek.

Henry: “You aren’t helping by getting into a screaming match with him.”

Actions: he sighs and glances over his shoulder to the casing.

Henry: “You’re only causing stress- stress will only make him violent.”

Blueton: “ex- ex-ex-“

Olesia; “if you really want to help- just help us get off of this planet.”

Actions: she whispers and walks over to the casing, resting a hand on the dome and standing in the line of sight of the eyestalk to break eye contact.

Doctor: “so you’re just going to side with that monster?”

Olesia: “It’s safer than siding with you, Doctor.”

Actions: she sighs and looks over her shoulder to him.

Henry: “Just… be patient okay? And tone your Dalek hate down- it’s already painful enough to witness I don’t need you sending him into a full out war fury.”

Actions: he turns to leave the Doctor where he is, the man still fuming as he paces from side to side as he stared the trio down.

Scene: both Olesia and Henry are stood besides the blue Dalek. They are whispering, hands on the casing as they throw glances at the Doctor. The Doctor is at least a yard away at this point with Rose resting her hands on his shoulders to calm him down. She is trying to hold his attention on her.

Doctor: “I can’t just let them-“

Rose: “But you can, you and I both know if that tin can wanted to hurt anyone it would have already. Just- hear it out already… If you don’t - I will.”

Actions: she presses and stares into the Doctor’s eyes daring him to challenge her on this. When he blinks and looks away from her her posture relaxes into him.

Rose: “If they are insane to other Daleks, then maybe that is a good thing for us. Maybe because they are, they will be…”

Doctor: “What? Nicer? No. This is just another manipulation tactic- it is up to something. It *has* to be plotting something big-… we need to get back to that ship- to destroy that infant army growing there.”

Actions: he turns to stare towards the exit. With a grumble he shuffles past Rose leaving her in a huff standing there in the room alone.

Scene: Rose watches the Doctor rush to one of the entryways as he tries to find a way out. It is clear however that the doors are propped closed by the weight of the snow and ice that had accumulated against them. Rose wraps her arms around herself then moves towards the trio. Olesia has her arm wrapped around the neck and shoulder section of the casing while Henry has one hand resting on the Blue one’s dome. Both are using the casing to lean against.

Rose: “So… You three need help getting off of this planet?”

Camera: cuts away from them all to staring down from the sun to the crescent ship still resting in the snow. Credits begin to fade in as the snow’s howling winds fade out.

#doctor who #dalek #torchwood’s Dalek #the doctor’s Dalek #fanfiction #doctor who fanfiction

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prettyboykatsuki · 3 years

Text

am i warm enough for you?

➳ tags ;; soulmate au, strangers to lovers, fluff and angst but mostly fluff, some-what canon compliant, bakugo katsuki is bad at feelings, lots of Feelings™, you guys are adults but the end of the fic but the fic is sfw, alcohol, drunk confessions

➳ wc ;; 5.6k..

➳ plot summary ;; you see your soulmate in dreams - sometimes in bits and pieces and other times in full. bakugo is less than inclined to admit he even has a soulmate - and you learn how to cope with it, one day at a time.

bakugo learns that this soulmate shit is no joke. that has to be why he keeps falling for you so helplessly.

➳ a/n ;; i wasn’t even gonna comeback this early but it felt so wrong not to post on my bfs birthday so alas </3 for anyone who cares to know this is @elysianseraph but with my new url. nice to see u all <3

this was originally posted on 4/20 but im reposting cause it didn’t show up in the tags dskjds

It’s hazy.

A cloud of smoke settles over your body, permeating your lung. It smells like sugar, like burning, like smoke and a little like leather. You can feel your toes curl and your hands moving but your body is separate from you in a way you can’t describe. It’s a pleasant kind of warmth that spreads, creeping up from behind your neck till it’s soft and cradling your skull. It’s soft like the touch of a mother, like wool over your ears.

It’s a pleasant feeling, that’s all. Almost cozy but there’s a fading sense of distress that chills in your lungs as you encompass it. Your hands are too small to reach forward, and truthfully the sensation is so powerful that you’re afraid to reach out. You’re 6 years old, so all you know is how it makes you feel. You can’t remember many details, but you feel pleasant. Something about it is soft, but there’s a sharp edge right at the end that has your lungs gasping for air.

It’s a flash of colors. Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red. Orange. Red.

And then it fades into a feeling again. A blurry feeling. You feel conflict, then concern, then inadequacy in heavy waves almost like it’s drowning you. It’s the first time you’ve experienced such a pain, so your wailing and wiping tears away with chubby fingers and saying a name you don’t know and can’t remember.

Ka. You know the sound, Ka. But you don’t know of anything more. It repeats rhythmically in your mind like a knock on the door, rapping with urgency - but it doesn’t do anything to jog your memory. Someone is trying to be let in but you don’t know how to answer them, and you’re still crying. The distress, the inadequacy shakes you and all you feel is frustration in short simple bursts.

Your first encounter with your soulmate is written this way in your memory. A sense of urgency laced with frustration - but they’re not towards you. It’s him, his feelings - you can feel them even deeper then he can. They pierce you in a way that makes it hard to breathe, no matter how you try to escape them it’s an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. The only way to escape the feelings of a dream is either to control them, or to face them and swim through the fog.

Soulmates have an urgency to them, in general. His is different, you can tell as much. Your first soulmate dream leaves the heaviest impression and each one thereafter is like pieces of a puzzle.

Sometimes you simply share random dreams, like a split screen in a video game - the two of you witness different parts of the same dreamverse. Other times, and honestly - most times, you’re experiencing their emotions or feelings. You experience their core memories, their life, in flashes and bits and pieces.

It’s not enough to know them or who they are, it’s like know everything about them except the things that matter

Sometimes you meet too. Just barely.

MEETING 1:

The room is white. When you blink, colors flash in order - red, pale yellow, orange, forest green and you know. You blink a few more times, stretching your hands out in front of yourself. Curling your hands into fist then into stretched palms, you lean forward and stretch. You wriggle your toes - notice you're wearing shoes. Clothes from your closet. Strange.

You take a look around the room but there isn't much to see. There’s a wall in front of you with a glass divider and a mirrored empty room. The room across from yours has spiky decor littered against the walls. An orange dresser, plastic grenades and play guns. You know who it is without a second warning - and a foggy part in the back of your head tells you that it’s him, again but with more force. You don’t see anything in your room, but you figure he might. All of it is confusing to you.

Before you can blink, there’s a loud thud coming from the other side of the glass. It’s a silhouette, the outline of a face - but nothing clear. Dream logic dictates you can’t know a face you’ve never seen, yet somehow you know his outline. Spiky, he’s spiky everywhere.

“Hello?,” you call out, overly tentative. The figure pauses, seems to take in whatever they must be seeing. You’re not sure what response you’re expecting, really. There’s no expectations at all.

“...Who the fuck are you?,” says a pitchy, male voice. He sounds like he’s your same age, a highschool boy. His throat is rough, yet not overly deep. It’s almost scratchy.

“Uhm,”

You’re not sure how to reply. You can see him through the glass, but not really. Still, you take note of his shadows like they’re going to tell you anything more. You shove your hands in your pockets, messing around with something inside.

“Uh.. your soulmate, I think,” you reply.

Scratching the back of your neck as an awkward silence settles, you take a few minutes to try and figure what more to say.

“We met when we were kids once too,” you explain awkwardly. He must know, has too - this soulmate thing is a two way thing, but his silence is deafening. You just want to feel this space. Is it always this awkward?

“Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Forest Green,” you repeat, like a mantra. You hear him take in a sharp breath, and freeze. For some reason, you’d like to avoid upsetting him. He doesn’t seem like he’s taking to the information too well.

“I don’t have time for this damn bullshit… whatever quirk you’ve got to mimic this - cut it the fuck out,”

Hostile.

You pause, not sure how to feel. Half of you is offended, the other half is confused - had you done something to upset him? You can feel how he feels - but you don’t understand it. You sit with your mouth agape, like a fish out of water. Unsure of how to proceed, you scoff a little.

“Woah.. this isn’t a quirk thing. We’re.. soulmates? That’s already a thing,”

More silence. You’ve.. he doesn’t seem upset, but you can tell he’s not all that keen to the idea. It’s a bare minimum improvement that you find yourself valuing, without your consent. He breathes again, throat even more hoarse than before. His voice is angry but it doesn’t fit his responses, his feelings - so you don’t pay attention to his madness. Something is off.

“... I’m not supposed to have a soulmate. No fucking way I have a soulmate,” he grits. You step back, stumbling. You didn’t have any expectations.. but this wasn’t what you had been expecting at all. You feel uneasy, sick. It must be a shared feeling if the way he leans against a wall counts for anything.

A beat of silence passes before you open your mouth to speak.

“... I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to that,” you admit. He scoffs.

“Nothing you damn extra. Leave me the fuck alone,”

You don’t reply, too stunned. This was your soulmate? This.. asshole? Not that you were a peach entirely either, but this was supposedly the person that the universe had decided for you?

You shake your head. Maybe you’re just being rash? He could be a nice guy behind all the chaos. You try your best to hold onto that, that this was literally someone chosen for you before you gave up all hope. You sigh, cracking your neck.

“You can say whatever you want but.. we’re here, you know? It’s more productive to just go with it.. isn’t it?,”

“Go fuck yourself,”

“After meeting you, I’m not exactly over the fucking moon about it either. It is what is,”

“You’re not my fucking.. soulmate or whatever the fuck. Leave me alone,”

Your heart both aches with anger and sadness. You don’t know what to do. What does this shit-head know about you, anyway? You know he’s been through some shit, same as you - what makes him so entitled? You swallow the lump in your throat. It hurts. It pierces. Stupid soulmate bonds.

“Yeah? Alright. Fuck you too,”

You see him pace around for a longer before he disappears in a cloud of smoke. You didn’t even catch his name, and you’re not sure you wanted too. It must be morning, but at least you're away from him. It feels lonely, but it must just be you.

Your eyes flutter open but your heart is heavy with regret. You don’t know who it belongs to, but you’ve got class in an hour and not enough time to think about it. If he doesn’t want to meet you that’s fine.

It’s fine. Not like you wanted to meet your soulmate anyway.

You don’t have another meeting with your soulmate for months. Lately your dreams have little if anything to do with him or where he is, how he’s been. You have some of those split screen ones, where you know he’s there but neither of you acknowledge each other, even in spirit, like how you did before. When you wake up feeling angsty, you don’t know how to distinguish the feeling but you don’t try.

You wonder idly if he can feel your apathy, if he cares enough too. Maybe he also mistakes it for his own? It seems likely.

It’s a weekday where you’re getting ready for remedial classes at your school. First year advanced courses were no joke, and you find yourself regretting your choice to participate in them.

Still you get dressed anyway, put your uniform on and brush your teeth - wash your face with your eyes half open and look presentable. No one's home in the morning, the house is empty of any life but you. Food becomes a last minute priority, so you make an egg sandwich with cheese and eat it on the way to the train station.

You stare down at your feet as you step outside, music drowning out the noise of your surroundings aptly. The walk to the station is long and the ride is longer, but the streets are packed edge to edge. Musutafu is busy this time of year - the U.A. Sports Festival is taking place today and everything seems to reflect that. You barely manage to squeeze past all the strangers on the subway - clearly on their way to see it.

When you get to school, you're greeted by a mostly empty classroom with a teacher. These classes were straightforward as always, do the work you need to correct, have it approved and leave. It repeats until your finished with all the assignments and you get to be done. You give a respectful nod to your teacher before grabbing your work from your bag.

It goes on and on - occasionally, you hear an excited gasp and quiet chatter from classmates. It’s about the festival, the happenings - but you’re too caught up in completing your work that day and trying to get the fuck out of their as soon as possible.

Shit like that didn’t matter to you, anyways. It’s just a festival.

You leave around the same time the festival seems to have ended, the streets flooded with people - you miss the first station and wander towards an electronics store a block away from your highschool.

It’s the winners on TV. A guy with split hair - Shouto Todoroki, Endeavors son. A guy with a bird head, and a blonde with red eyes - muzzled to the pole.

When you see them, your heart stops. You can feel anger, an unfamiliar rage and humiliation building in your chest. It feels the word has stopped as you watch from afar, through screens. Your soulmate seems upset about something, but you wouldn’t know what.

And that blonde on TV, you wonder if you know him from somewhere.

MEETING 2:

Red.Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red.

You feel him before you even know what’s happening - and it catches you completely off-guard. You haven’t had a proper soulmate dream in two years. Smoke clouds your lungs, the taste of sugar burning your tongue as you cough yourself into awareness. This time, you’re not in a room but it’s a campground. In the middle of the space is a bonfire, burning warmly. This one feels more vivid, more real.

But you know it’s not, your body feel unusually light and your hands can’t hold anything for too long. You know it’s a dream, but you sit in the chair anyway. It feels like you're floating. You feel oddly warm. Dread builds in the pit of your stomach. Even though it’s been so long since you’ve spoken to your soulmate - you can’t forget the terrible first encounter. It sticks to the roof of your mouth - a bitter memory that fills you with unexplainable, irrational resentment.

But it’s not like you hadn’t been seeing him, to an extent. You’ve seen all his memories in bits and pieces - all of them tragic and painful. This time, you see people but they come in the form of small scraps. Spiky Red. Electricity. Tape. Pink with Horns. Music. Green. So much green and red - like Christmas, you’ve called it. You’ve seen disappearances, fear, anguish - so much anguish.

In the weeks after All Might’s fall, you were in so much pain - you couldn’t stop crying for days. It’s been enough time to know what feelings were yours and which were his - and these ones felt so much like him. It went on for nearly a year - you’d almost got accustomed to it. If tears showed up to blot the ink of your lecture notes, you didn’t think twice about it. You tried to keep yourself calm, steady - in hopes you could lend your soothing to him. Even if he hated your guts, you could barely believe so much sadness could exist in one person. You didn’t know what happened but whatever it was - it must’ve been terrible. At the very least, you felt sympathy.

Sympathy was enough to get by for a long time. A neutral, level-headed sympathy that helped soothe some of your own hurt.

All that said, you were hardly expecting to see him again - especially not this soon. You don’t remember the last time you thought about him in anything other than passing - actively. It’s one thing to know what's happening - you’ve felt him passively everyday for damn near two years.

But it’s another thing to see him in front of you, force yourself to acknowledge him as your soulmate even if he insists on not doing the same.

You squirm in your chair, noticing that you’re wearing PJ’s instead of clothes. Just a hoodie and sweats, none of which fit you quite right. You pull your sleeves over your hands, fiddling with the stray strand of thread loose.

“What the fuck is this shit?,”

Your stomach drops. Unsure of what to say, you opt to say nothing at all. Just let him be, sit quietly in your dreams and mind your business. Maybe he’ll wake up soon and it’ll all be over.

You can’t see him from the corner of your vision but you can hear him shuffle. The way he touches things, noticing how they make noise but don’t feel quite right in his hands. How it feels real but doesn’t, how it is real and isn’t. Surely, he’s noticed you by now. The lingering silence makes you squirm.

“...It’s you,”

You flinch, lifting your head up slightly to meet his gaze. His expression is unreadable, but it’s different from before. In a fleeting moment, something occurs to you.

You can see him. What he looks like. Blonde with red eyes, and a sharp chin and thin waist. You know it must mean you’ve seen him before - perhaps you’d even seen each other, but for your life you can’t remember where you’ve seen his face. It’s right there, on the edge of your mind, but you’re stumped.

“Hello?,”

“Oh,” your reply comes short, strained. Your eyes flutter as you press your lips into a flat line. “Uh, hi,”

The blonde sits in the chair, slumping down. His eyes go towards the flickering flames without another word and you decide it’s best not to engage. It stays like that for a while, a beat of silence - not awkward but not comfortable, passing by without another thought. It all feels real, present - not like normal dreams. This must be the special kind of soulmate thing you find yourself feeling resentful towards.

His eyes are heavy. Relief is overwhelming him, with an iron grip and he’s worried you can feel it. If you can, you don’t say a word.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he admits.

The words sound tender passing through his mouth, unmistakably so - but you don’t get your hopes up. Instead, you give him a placating laugh, leaning forward towards the fire and mirroring him.

“I didn’t think so either,”

When it falls silent, it feels comfortable. It’s not like either of you have anything to say to each other right now, with no manual on how this was supposed to go. If he even wanted to go there.

“I can.. see you,” you start. He squints.

“You couldn’t before?,”

This takes you by surprise. You shake your head.

“No..Could you? See me, I mean?,”

Bakugo feels heat rise to his skin. Oh. Huh.

“Yeah,” he replies, a sharp inhale leaving his lungs “I can see you,”

There’s something tense in the air. It’s a strange sensation - to know the deepest and most intimate parts of someone without even knowing their name proper, or where they went to school, or what they normally eat for breakfast. All that connects you are these mutual feelings, shared grief that holds you two to the title of soulmates. This odd bond.

“..d’ya still think I’m a quirk wielding villain?,” you laugh, or try too - you’re doing your best to cut the tension. He can feel your hurt all the way from your sit, so deep in his gut - it’s been haunting him for years. How many nights of sleep he’s lost knowing there are soft and helpless tears coming from these suppressed feelings. He doesn’t know how to say sorry, so he sighs and rubs the back of his neck. He’s changed a lot in two years - but not enough to be good at this.

“No, I don’t,”

“Oh,”

He smiles, just a little. It’s gentle, casts shadow on his face from the light of the fire. It’s warm, everything feels warm and better and invigorating. When you look at him and his uneasy expression - you know he feels it too.

“By the way, uhm - what’s your name? Ka.. something? Right?,”

His eyes shoot up in surprise. He nods a little.

“Katsuki Bakugo,” he replies, expectantly. You seem surprised that he wants to know yours.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” comes your reply.

“Nice to meet you,” says him, Bakugo - your soulmate.

“Nice to meet you too,”

Getting to know Bakugo is unusually easy. You get the feeling it wouldn’t be, in the case that you were anything but soulmates - but Bakugo has never known being this intimate with someone other than you. Despite himself, how much he hates himself - you never seem too. Even though you feel and see all the ugliest parts of him - have since he was small enough to still be innocent, you always treat him the same.

Your conversations are short, and shallow. Regardless, he’s not used to talking so much about himself. But you’re always curious, so much so Bakugo doesn’t have the heart to see your countless questions go unanswered.

You keep a little notebook of all of your encounters. You remember them by heart but write them down too, just in case you miss something. You ask about his friends - Spiky Red and Soft Green, referring to them that way even after you’ve known their names. You ask about his work - the life of a dangerous hero, and if he ever gets nervous flying through the air.

Admittedly, he’s mean to you. He teases you so frequently, he’s lost count of all the times you’ve huffed and puffed at his sarcastic remarks. Still, you never turn away from him. You stand with your foot down and your arms crossed over your chest - insistent on making him feel flustered too. And it works, somehow - because you know all too much about Bakugou and always gets him right where he’s most conscious about. You don’t have to tease him about his feelings since you know them like the palms of your hand.

But these shallow conversations always mean a little more to him that he knows how to verbalize, and half the time he doesn’t need to do that at all. You’ve learned the masterful of working around him quietly, making all the parts of that feel too big to love - something small and fragile. Somehow, you’ve made being with him, even as friends - feel like less of an impossible feat but a dream.

Katsuki Bakugo has been in love with you since he was 6 years old. There must be some feelings we cannot share with our soulmates, because he has no idea if you feel it or not. He just knows he does, somewhere deep in the cavern of his heart, he loves you.

You never cross the barrier of romance with him, though. A paralyzing fear seems to settle in your bones when you breach too close to love and intimacy - and Bakugo understands those feelings, even if he doesn’t know exactly why they’re there. It’s not something you’ve decided to tell him yet, but he feels it in the same way he feels your loneliness. You may be kind but you’re more guarded than he is, and not fearless but reckless.

But he still finds himself aching to love and be loved by you, no matter how much he hates it. The yearning still manages to swallow him, even late into the night.

MEETING 3:

It’s been a while since your last meeting with Bakugo but not long. You were 21 now, but your dream visits were frequent. When you weren't speaking or seeing him through dreams - you were watching him on TV. You’d been yet to meet with him in real life but to you, that was okay. Seeing him like this had been more than enough.

Today was different. Normally, that bonfire was always a back-drop to these little encounters but it was a field today - a filed with rolling hills and hundreds of flowers and tall grass that made you feel itchy. The sun was permanently stuck right before it set but it was so warm everywhere. When you get there, there’s a blanket on the top of one of the hills. You sit on it cautiously and watch the wind pass. Everything is tinged orange, and red - you know he’s there with you before he appears.

When he does, he seems different. You glance over at him as he stumbles towards you in a stupor, and when he does finally sit - you get a whiff of alcohol coming from his neck and mouth. It’s strong enough to make a little dizzy. Blinking owlishly, he sits crisscross besides you, staring a little at the surroundings.

“..the fuck?,” he slurs. You can’t help but break out into a laugh. He nearly falls over, body swaying so you bring his head down to your shoulder wordlessly, a furious heat running all over your skin. Even though you can’t feel him, the gesture makes you feel something in your belly.

“Why’re you so drunk?,”

“Birthday,” he mumbles. Your eyes widen in surprise. Bakugo is seemingly unfazed, eyes drooping with tiredness. He’s completely inebriated.

You feel yourself grow tender. You’d have to wake up and remember the days date. Despite all the times you’ve met, you had no clue about his birthday or how he celebrated. You feel your heart ache at the idea you’ve spent the latter half of it together, in your own way.

“Happy Birthday, Bakugo.”

“Bakugo this, Bakugo that,” he growls, a little incoherent “We’re supposed to be fucking soulmates and you still call me by that.. damn name.”

He hiccups a little as you sit there stunned. You blink.

“.. You think of us as soulmates?,”

“Are you some kind of moron?,”

You scowl, flicking his forehead with your thumb and forefinger. He makes a noise of indignance.

“Well, how would I know? When we first met, you didn’t seem enthused about it,”

Bakugo sighs tiredly.

“I was 15 and an asshole - clearly I don’t fuckin’ feel that anymore,”

You seem surprised again.

“..You don’t?,”

Instead of swearing at you, he closes his eyes and gets closer to you. The liquor runs through his system like liquid courage and he nods a little.

“Not at all,”

“What do you..”

“What do you think I mean?,” he barks a laugh. You feel your pulse under your skin, drumming against your chest like a hammer. You can’t even breathe.

You’ve had feelings for Bakugo from the second proper meeting you’d had with him. It was clear as a day that he was your soulmate for good reason, that inexplicable draw that kept your heart from ever belonging to anyone else. You tried to - tried to go on dates and see other opportunities through but he was always so one of a kind.

Yet, you’d given up all hope that it would mean anything to harbor these feelings, convinced that Bakugo simply wasn’t interested in you In doing any of this. You didn’t want to force him into something he didn’t want - so you kept your distance with hope that he’d still be in your life. It was enough, or you’d wanted it to be.

It’d be a lie to say that you hadn’t started thinking about it more and more as the days pass. What it would be like to see him, touch him and love him and be with him for real - these passive daydreams gone vivid. If he could see your dreams, he must know about them. But you didn’t know how to approach it - how to approach love at all.

That’s the thing with soulmates. You’re told that you’ll just have the answers, destiny will do the hard work but that’s far from true. Because even now, with Bakugo leaning on your shoulder with this confession lingering in the air - you don’t know what to do.

“Stop being so nervous,” he mumbles. You stumble a little over yourself.

“Sorry,”

He chuckles.

“You really need me to say it, huh?,” he sighs. He picks himself. If he’s drunk and reckless, then fuck it - he’s gonna take it all the way. He drops his head onto your lap with a tired sigh.

“I think you’re my soulmate, you fuckin’ idiot,” he admits.

And it’s hard to say, because feelings don’t come easy for Bakugo Katsuki - but it’s the least he can do. All Bakugo Katsuki has ever known is to be lonely. It’s a loneliness that he’d forced on himself. Bottling up all the anger and sadness and swallowing it. It’s long since sunk it’s claws into him. That overwhelming, all consuming ugly feeling that lingers underneath that superiority complex.

That no one would ever, could ever love the ugliness that lingers in him. That no one who knew him for what he truly is, could care for him. Deku was the first of many disbeliefs and not much had changed.

Except for when it did. Except for when he met you - in a dream, and you were real and beautiful even at 15. That the universe hadn’t been playing some sick joke on him when he kept seeing you in his dreams, so soothing to his teenage loneliness. You were real and that was so fucking scary.

But you loved him anyway. Looked out for him when he was at his lowest - the soothing beat of your heart in the days after All Mights end . When he cried himself into sleep and dreamed of you. God, how he dreamed of you. Not especially romantic dreams, but dreams of how you made breakfast. How you watched cartoons on Sunday and read manga in your classes instead of the assigned work. How you fell asleep on the train station and always ate icecream after big tests. How you were especially mundane and how he got to be apart of that everyday routine.

After all, you see dreams of each other, but Bakugo has no clue what your dreams of him look like. His have always looked like you though.

When he was worthless and empty and unable to give you anything meaningful, to apologize or put his pride away - you had loved him anyway. Felt for him with clumsy hands and held on, not letting go. Even when he was begging for you to leave him alone, in fear of this all being nothing more than a cruel dream - you held on tightly to him. With your silly notebook questions and dumb names.

Bakugo Katsuki has never known what it means to love someone who isn’t you. Even if you found someone else and there was someone better than you for him, he would grit his teeth and bear it. He wonders if he’ll ever believe he deserves you. He wants to believe you’re his soulmate - to believe you wont ever leave. To believe that he did something right enough that the universe could give him someone like you.

And he wishes he could say all this, but he can’t - he just closes his eyes and hopes you can feel it.

“You’re so mean,”

“Isn’t that why you like me?,” he grins.

And you can feel his sincerity. He should feels yours too.

“I love you, actually,”

He gasps, a sharp breath that stabs his lungs. He feels sober from the confession.

His voice is gravelly when he speaks.

“Yeah, shit - me too,”

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. The address is correct, it has to be with the way this place looks. Only a hero could live here, with the floors that lead up to skies. He lives on 3rd floor, so you swallow your fear. You give yourself a thumbs up in the glass window pane of the building before entering through the doors.

When you get there, a box sits. You press the button next to his place, bouncing on the balls of your feet until you answer.

“Hello?,”

His voice feels different in real life. You cough.

“Uh, hi,” you greet awkwardly “I’m here,”

“Oh,” he says. You hear something buzz and then him again. “Come on up,”

And you do. The elevator ride feels like it stretches mild, classic piano echoing against the empty walls. You feel yourself feel sick but you’re not sure it’s from the movement. All you can do is fidget and wait.

When the doors open, you peak your head out into the hallway. He’s the first one on the left, just as promised. You can see a welcome mat - forest green, and something in you knows that it’s the right one.

You step up and knock, three times precisely. Your heart is all the way in your ears and everything in you is filled with unease and excitement.

When the door swings open, the world stops. You gape like a fish out of water in disbelief. He’s tall and big like he promised he’d be, but you’re unprepared. His chin is scruffy, eyes full of sleep. Strong chest and arms that seem to crowd your vision, you don’t know what do.

His expression is full to the brim with feelings you’ve never seen. He steps aside with his head ducked down.

“Come in,”

“Ah.. right,”

You take your shoes off and place them in the slippers meant for you - they fit you just right, and it can’t be a coincidence. Your heart swells up a little as you take your coat off, hanging it on the rack. You can feel his eyes as they linger on your silhouette.

“So -,”

Before you can get a word out, you feel strong arms wrapped around your waist. His scruff brushes against the skin of your neck as he holds you tightly too him. The warmth of his breath lingers on your neck - and he hiccups, a sob stored in his rib cages let out with a howl. The tears blur your vision too. You can feel his drip onto your shoulder as you snivel into his neck. Your legs feel weak, but he holds you up at the door - the only thing keeping you standing.

You cling around him tightly, your nails digging into the meat of his shoulders. It’s him, your soulmate, Katsuki Bakugo. He’s real and holding you - and he smells like leather and sugar and a fireplace. He’s warm and strong and overwhelming and your crying into his shoulder with so much feeling you don’t know what to do. You hit him weakly, unsure of what do with yourself and he laughs.

“Damn you, shitty woman - makin’ me fucking cry,” but his voice is strained. It’s like something connected, how you feel each other so intimately in that moment. Not only because you’re soulmates, but because you love each other so deeply. Your heart feels heavy.

When you pull away, you manage to give him a warbly smile.

Your hands cradle his face - so handsome and wonderful. You lean forward, emboldened, and peck him. He melts into your touch like he’d been waiting for this moment his whole life. It makes you grin.

Maybe you don’t realize that he had.

He’d been waiting for you all this time.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha imagines #bakugou imagine #bakugou imagines #PLEASE SHOW UP IM BEGGING

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hanibalistic · 2 years

Text

#ACE381 | JAKE SIM.

genre | tragic romance

word count | 1262

warning | mention of alcohol

note | i love rotten love. i love ugliness.

jake never truly understood the lows he was willing to stoop to for you until this moment. that was if his lack of sobriety even allowed him to think such complicated concepts in the first place.

sitting in a dirty puddle of an after shower, the wet tips of his soft hair in the slow process of drying naturally after he splashed his face carelessly with water at the bar, he glared up at the flicking orange light of the street lamp located near where you lived. he remembered it being one of the things that helped him memorize the way to your home; you lived in a rather complicated residential area, but he loved visiting you unannounced, and you always happily accepted him.

the phone in his hand flickered with text messages from his friends, all of who he abandoned at the bar when he, in a drunken haze, decided he wanted nothing more than to see your face. he took a moment to look at the screen through a foggy gaze, clouded with bitter alcohol and stinging eyes and salty tears, then he closed his phone.

jake paid no mind to them, his metallic scented hands reaching up to wipe at the snot that was threatening to roll from his nose to his lips.

jake paid no mind to them, he was waiting for you to get him.

forgetting his spot, he let his hands rest next to him on the ground, and he let out a surprised groan when water splashed against his forearm. he cursed under his breath, his brows furrowing at the sight of his debris-filled palms before carelessly wiping it at his pants.

it didn't bother him—not the wetness of his clothes, not the sewer smelling scent riddled in the entry of this dim alleyway, not the fact that he was a grown man sitting drunk on a residential street he didn't belong in just to wait for somebody who may never love him back. none of those bothered him, not the filth or the patheticness or stupidity. all that bothered him was you and what you told him in response to his confession at the end of the school year.

"jake! oh my god–don't sit there, it's dirty!" you gasped when you hopped from the stairs and saw him peeking by the wall.

you ran towards him, hastily shoving your phone inside your pocket and carefully adjusting your pace so you wouldn't crash into the wall. when you were near, you knelt by his side, your knees not touching the water he sat on, and you grabbed hold of his hand to pull him upward.

jake showed no signs of shifting. he was comfortable where he sat, if anybody could be comfortable with that at all. he didn't look at you—he assumed he wouldn't. as willingly pathetic as he was, a part of him stored his pride away secretly and would not let it be taken away no matter what. the source of his dignity has to remain in him, or else he would be beyond repair, so no, he would not voluntarily look your way.

you paused in acknowledgment of his lack of movement, sensing that this may be more than just drunken trouble you have to take care of. you and jake have gone drinking together before, and he has strictly been a cheerful, honest drunk. him being motionless, unresponsive, and overall stubborn was not just an effect of alcohol.

angling your torso and holding his hand on your lap, you knelt once again so you could look at his face. "jake... are you okay?"

the remaining of his dignity vanished once you two met eyes, and his glossed over with childish tears once he realized that yours were leeched with concern and pity. yet you do not love him, he did not think so, not yet at least—he wasn't tragic enough, he was only dirty and slobby. he wasn't sorry enough, not in the way you believed you deserved.

"why not me?" jake asked, choked out even, but his voice was too timid and small. "why can't you just love me?"

he could do better than you was your response to his confession, which jake found to be sickening. he was a good person, a good man, and he deserved someone of the same caliber as him, you said, which he found to be unbelievable. you had done terrible things in life and been unkind to others when you didn't have to, and he should not be with someone like you, you told him, which he found to be just gut-wrenching.

you made him feel like falling in love with you was a mistake on his part, and he recognized no part of your self-sabotage and all part of his invisible faults.

"jake, we talked about this–"

"we talked about this, we talked about–no we didn't talk about this! you–you! you talked about this!" he slurred loudly, retreating his hand from yours for a moment only to scramble and find himself back in your palm because he couldn't take not touching your presence. "i just stood there listening to you talk about yourself like you don't fucking matter, well it matters! it matters to me what you think you deserve!"

nevermind trying to make you understand that you were infinitely more than your perception of yourself, jake seemed to have skipped that part knowing that it could take him immortal years to reach the breaking point of your self-esteem. it wasn't his profession, it wasn't his specialty, it wasn't his job—he was but a boy so madly in love with someone who could not hate themselves any more than the devil can.

the wretched one, he remembered you calling yourself. heaven and hell stood between you and him; you were the condemned one while he was the pure and praise. the only way for you to find true love was to meet someone as demeaning as yourself. then you could deserve each other.

"i am... i am just trying..." jake muttered, a sudden sob passing through his throat. "i just want to be what you think you deserve."

you wanted a pathetic man. you wanted a terrible man. you wanted a pitiful man.

so let jake be him. let jake be the violence in your wretchedness, the eyesore of your everyday life, the human flag on a perfect moon, and the death in your poison. let jake be all of them.

all he wanted was for you to love him, and he was willing to stoop, fall, crash, burn to the lowest beyond demonic possibility to do so.

your knees drenched themselves in the dirty puddle, and your skin soiled after the hot shower you took. his cheeks were tear-stained, and he smelt of smoke and beer, and his eyes were puffy without a trace of light in them, and his hair was in disarray—he almost looked ugly.

jake's breath hitched in his throat when he smelt the scent of your shampoo—a garden green, velvet purple, ocean blue, and lily white. you smelt of flowers, the purest thing of all heaven. he looked at you, his glazed eyes panicking in the wake of your closing face, and when you pressed your lips against the corner of his mouth, he cried.

you did not love him still.

but for this moment, where he breathed his lungs into this pity kiss and you both drenched in street water, you two were ugly.

and, supposed, rotten people deserve each other.

#ficscafe #jake imagines #jake x reader #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen jake x reader #jake blurbs #enhypen imagines #enhypen x gender neutral reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #enhypen blurbs #jake sim #enhypen jake

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blissfulalchemist · 2 years

Text

Assurance

A little something that I’ve finished and no one asked for. Have a moment of just some soft between Marc and Sahar :’) Thank you again to @honeysides to making their banner! Get a commission from here when you can!

word count: 1.1k

It’s too cold in upstate New York to be out in the small jacket she wears, no hat or gloves, and jeans that don’t provide insulation, especially with the amount of mud and water collecting at her ankles. But there she stands, arms crossed and hanging head just up the hill from where Marc stands with his white gloved hands stuffed in his pockets. He takes a deep breath waiting for the icy cloud to disappear before making his way up the grassy hill, avoiding the grave stones and patches of mud that threaten to stain the white of his suit until he’s standing next to Sahar under the leafless tree at the very top. Her eyes don’t meet his and he doubts he was anything but silent in his trek. “Have you been following me this whole time,” she asks in a voice that’s been practically devoid of the life he’s used to hearing.

Marc shakes his head, “Just for the last twenty four hours,” he gives a shrug, “Well I believe tracking would be the better descriptor.”

“I was going to come back, you know.”

“It’s been almost a week and you don’t have a phone so I couldn’t ask when that would be.”

She looks up blinking rapidly a few times, “Has it really been almost a week?” Marc nods, “Huh. Well I’m fine, clearly. You can head back.”

“Maybe after a while,” he leans back on his heels, clearing his throat, “For now I think I want to stay with you.”

Sahar hugs herself tightly, “I don’t need you here, Marc.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t need your protection.”

“Oh, I’m not here for that,” Sahar raises a brow, “….mostly. One percent of why I’m here.”

She rolls her eyes, grumbling, “Then why are you here?”

He studies the linked gravestones, moving a half step closer to her, “Because you need a friend.”

Sahar looks down, shoulders caving in, “Really I’m fine. No need to risk your suit getting stained.”

He smirks, “I didn’t think I’d be finding you here in a muddy and foggy cemetery.” He nods at the headstones, “Who are they?”

She doesn't respond simply reaching into her jacket pocket, “Here,” she says tossing a scanning device that he catches with ease looking it over.

“So it was you that stole from my old gadgets.”

“Borrowed,” she corrects, “Stealing implies I never gave it back.”

He tests out the device, the screen showing caskets and other unidentifiable objects beneath them. A morbid scene, especially when he can see two skeletons in front of the gravestone. “Sahar, why-.”

“I needed to be sure.”

“That’s not what I was going to ask.”

“It’s the only answer you’re going to get.”

“Okay,” he says with a nod. He lets the silence fall, stillness enveloping them as she stands there boring holes in the granite, thoughts somewhere far from here. He re-reads the stone:

Beloved husband, son, friend and brother.

Beloved wife, daughter, sister, and friend.

September 24, 2018

Marc guesses that the two weren’t blood family to Sahar, but still close to her. The birth year of the man places him the same age as Sahar while the woman is two years younger. He takes a breath readying to ask about his theory.

“Can I admit something to you,” she says, eyes still focused in front of her, “Something that you can’t tell anyone else. Not even the people at the mission that you trust.”

“Yes,” he says without hesitation, turning to take all of her in. He could tell something was a little off before she left, but now….Now her eyes have become lined with purple and red, hair limp and faded in color, even her clothes had wrinkled as if she’d slept in them for a while, and the most stark change was how pale her face had become. He wanted to reach out to her, assure her that he was there, but still he kept his hands tucked away.

“It’s getting worse,” her eyes fill with tears that pool and fall silently, “I’m-. Something feels different about it this time.”

He glances at the stone and then to the x-ray device in his pocket, “That’s what you meant when you said you needed to be sure. It’s gotten harder to tell reality from hallucination.” She nods slowly, Marc noticing her hands beginning to shake, “You should probably mention this to your doc-.”

“No!” Sahar shakes her head, “No, I can’t. I can’t do that. If they see any hint of it getting bad again this early…”

“They’ll send you back.”

She takes a shaky breath, “It’s worse than that, Marc,” her shoulders shake with a sob, “I’d be put behind bars. Sure I’d be getting treatment but my maintaining of the hallucinations for at least eighteen months was part of the deal to getting out and not serving any time. To be able to finally put that whole event in the past and keeping it there.”

His eyes go wide, “What-. What exactly happened, Sahar?”

She shakes her head, “I just got into some legal trouble, that's all you really need to know.” He nods, taking his coat off to place around her shoulders. “I just don’t know what to do. I don’t have anyone else to turn to.”

She stiffens a moment from the sudden contact of his arms wrapping around her. “Sahar,” he whispers, “you’re never going to have nobody.”

Her body shivers as she presses herself closer to his warmth, “How can you be so sure?”

“Because you got me and I’m not going to go anywhere,” he chuckles, “I’m a bit hard to kill if you haven’t noticed.” She smiles burying her face in his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne and fog. He squeezes her, placing a kiss on the top of her head, “We’ll figure out some way to help you. Me, Rheese, Soldier, and Greer, we all care about you.”

“I’m a little surprised Rheese is second on that list.”

Marc rolls his eyes, “She bands with any woman that likes to make some jokes at my expense.” He sighs when she doesn’t laugh in the slightest but can’t help but smile seeing the small one that crosses her lips for a moment. Her body starts to slack against him, the small breeze that passes chilling his arms. “Come on,” he urges, “Let’s get you some place warm. We can come back in the morning, in actual sunlight I might add, if you want.”

She nods, pulling his jacket tighter around her to make it down the hill. They make it to the entry gates when she stops to look up at Marc. “Thank you, by the way.” He smiles giving a single nod in acknowledgment before the two continue on their way.

#look I love these two so much like special place in my heart and just! I needed some happy with them #x: sunlight #the written word #six1six verse

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 3 years

Text

A Reading: Part 6 (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Witch Reader)

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warnings: anxiety, fear, implied canon-typical vampire violence, witchcraft, kissing???

Word Count: 2.6k~

You'd been caught in a dream, floating somewhere you didn't recognize. It took you a moment to realize that perhaps you weren't dreaming at all, especially when you were walking through a house you didn't recognize.

It was full of jars and books, and it almost looked how your trailer looked. Except bigger. Somehow fuller. You had a feeling that knocking over one book would cause a whole stack of them to fall. You didn't know where you were going, only that the house was lit by the light falling in through the windows. The only other light was the one coming from behind a closed door.

You passed through the door, before you turned at the sound of footsteps. No one was behind you, and they hadn't been your own. Your feet hadn't been making any. It sounded outside yourself. Like the sounds were trapped in a fog. Still, you kept yourself calm as your eyes adjusted to the dark room. The only light was the flickering candlelight.

You saw someone, an old woman. She had her own altar, her own herbs and spells. You saw her sigils and candles, and thought you recognized the sigils carved into them. Protection candles, you thought. There were two, with a poppet in front of each of them. They had clothing fashioned around them, with a picture leaning against the candle of who they were supposed to represent. One had a picture of an older boy, with dark curls and clear blue eyes. The other hand sandy blonde hair, with eyes just the same. The brothers, you thought.

You watched as the old woman picked up the blonde haired boys poppet. She wrapped a string around it, muttering to herself. You didn't get to catch what she was whispering, because she suddenly stopped. You had walked up besides her, gotten close. Too close. She looked over her shoulder, and it almost looked as if she was staring right at you. You froze. She lifted a hand, and she reached for you. But her hand went through you, wrapped around nothing. You looked down where her hand had gone through you. You were still there. Still whole. But she couldn't touch you. Faintly, you realized that you must've been astral projecting. You'd never done it before, or you'd never done it purposely. You almost wanted to speak to her, to ask what she was doing, but you heard it again. The sound of voices.

They were still back in the fog, but they were getting louder. To your surprise, the woman looked with you. As if she could hear them too. You looked down at the poppet in her hand, and then you realized. The poppet she was holding, the boy it was connected to, he must've been close. She must've been watching him. Protecting him. The moment that you did, she lifted her hand and whispered,

"Begone."

***

Really, you didn't know how the boys were sleeping through it. The others, the hunters, weren't even attempting to be quiet. You could hear the sound of their footsteps all the way back in the boys' little sub-cave. All the way into your projection. Each word seemed to bounce off the walls right into their hideout. But it wasn't until someone yelled,

"Don't you touch her! You stay away from her!" That you jolted awake and out of your subconscious. They're here. You sat up, looking for the source of the voice. Your mind was foggy, clouded. Even more tired than it had been before. Like you hadn't slept at all. You tried to think back to your dream, but you barely got flashes.

In your haze, you thought that voice had been talking about you. But, no one was here. Then, you looked up at the boys above you. Except them. They were fast asleep and as still as death, right where you'd left them when you nodded off. So, if they weren't here then that meant- They found Star. You thought. You knew she wouldn't be hurt, or you had failed to see her death. When you instead heard a gruff voice say,

"C'mon, vampires have such rotten tempers." You knew you were right. And that the voice that had yelled at them to get away must've been the harbinger of death that you'd seen in your card. You clasped your hands together, anxiety wracking through you.

You knew, despite everything you'd done, that sometimes fate was a set course. That not even spells or magic could protect unfortunate souls. Especially damned ones. You looked up at the boys. You knew the three would be set to find them, and, while part of you didn't want them to hurt the younger teens, you couldn't imagine that they'd want to sleep through this. Or, perhaps, you just didn't want to be alone.

But how could you get to them? More importantly, how would they react if they saw you crack under the pressure? It occurred to you then that that's what you were doing. You were cracking. Your breath had sped up, and you wrapped a hand around your throat to try to calm your breathing. You placed a hand on your own chest, feeling your heartbeat. It was fast, too fast. You were letting the pressure get to you. You weren't holding up your end of the deal. You willed yourself to calm down, to take steady easy breaths.

You told yourself that everything was going to be fine. That they weren't going to find you. You'd laid out spells, protection, and, hell, you'd even hid the entrance to the cave. They would have to have an absurd amount of luck to find where you were hiding, and, more so, to get out unscathed. They'd have to have more than luck, you thought.

But, despite all that, you found yourself praying. You didn't have a particular god or deity in mind. Truth be told, you were praying to anyone who would listen. You were whispering a prayer your mother had taught you over and over, hoping it would help. Even as they drew closer and closer.

The cave made it so you could hear them all the way into the main part of the cave. Now, the sound of their footsteps was deafening. You had no idea of knowing how close they were, just that they were getting closer. Louder.

"Do you guys hear that?" And you froze. You'd forgotten that sound traveled both ways. You stopped your whispering and pressed a hand over your mouth to silence the sound of your breathing.

"Creepy." One of them said, and you almost thought they'd be able to hear the sound of your heartbeat from how loudly it was hammering in your chest. You thought about this over and over. The three of them sounded young. Like young teenagers trying to scramble to seem like they knew what they were doing. The boys looked young in the vision. It occurred to you then what was going to happen if they did stumble upon the cave. How were you going to hurt them? They were just a couple of kids. Sure, vampire hunters, but they were still children. It made you think about the witch hunters that had hunted your own clan, how they would hunt even young coven members if they showed any inclination of being a witch. You couldn't be like them. You couldn't. So, you pulled your hands from your mouth and opened your eyes.

You reached into your bag, quickly grabbing your mixing bowl and any of the materials you brought. You whispered your own enchantment over and over, deciding that there was no time to make new spells like the present. You grinded the herbs until they were a fine powder. You could hear the boys right outside the cave, the sound of their shoes scuffing against the rock. You stood up, clinging to one side of the entrance as you listened.

"It's a dead-end." One of the voices said. They were close, only a few steps away from the cave. You had to climb up in order to cling to the side wall. If they weren't careful, they'd fall into it.

"It can't be!" The gruff voice said. It almost sounded like he was putting it on. Trying to make his voice deeper. You clutched the bowl, digging your hand into the mixture of herbs as you silently began mouthing the enchantment. One word, one clear intention stuck in your mind. Begone.

"Well, do you see a way to go?" You heard a higher-pitched voice say, and then you heard it. A scuffle. You, in your minds eye, could already guess what was going to happen. While there might be a bed at the bottom, you didn't want the three boys to tumble into the nest. As much as you hated the fact that they were hunters, you wouldn't be able to stand the sight of them being torn apart. So, you stepped forward. Breaking through your smoke screen. You heard them start to yell, one of them even started to say,

"Holy-" But it was too late. You blew the powder in all of their faces, and they sputtered. They spit, trying to get the powder out of their open mouths. But it was no use. All of them had inhaled it out of instinct and surprise. You stared at them for a moment, looked them over. They couldn't be older than sixteen. You were right, they were still children. Any regret that you might've had quickly slipped away. You quickly raised your hand, and gave them a small mental push. A small one, just to push them back towards where they came.

"Save yourselves and leave this place." You told them. You watched as they coughed, but they were already moving. Already leaving. They were yelling and screaming, declaring how a girl had appeared right out of the wall. One of them was calling for a boy named Michael. But they were leaving, and you didn't even care that they'd seen your face. You sunk back behind the curtain, and waited until you heard the sound of the young hunters leaving before you went to wake the vampires.

***

You'd climbed up the latter, tilting your head as you stared into the sleeping face of the curly-haired vampire. He was still and asleep, not even drawing in a breath. But he was alive. In his own way. You reached out a hand, barely grazing it against the skin of his chest. The second you did, you gasped. A hand shot out, snatching your wrist. His eyes flicked open, a snarl left his mouth. His face had turned monstrous, with yellow eyes leering at you. The boys behind him shook awake, but Markos snarl died in his throat. Just before any of the others could open their eyes. At the silence, the rest seemed to settle. His grip loosened. He realized that it was just you.

"Afternoon." You told him, and Marko tilted his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but you could guess what he was going to ask. "They came. They're gone. I just wanted to tell you." You whispered, reaching out to touch his cheek. The two of you were face to face from where you'd stood on the latter, his body only a few inches from yours. He reached out to hold your hand to his face, his skin cold against yours.

"They left?" He asked, sleep thick in his voice. His eyes had almost fallen closed. You knew the sun was compelling him, trying to force him back into his dormant state. You nodded, and he nodded back. He smacked his lips together, as if he was thirsty, before his eyes slipped closed. You figured all of them would want something to drink when they woke up, and you could guess what. He made a noise, as if he was going to start to say something, but sleep was pulling at him quickly.

"Go back to sleep." You said, and, without thinking, you leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead. It was difficult, given the angle, but Marko hummed again. He pulled his hand away from your hand, resettling it on his chest. You pulled your hand away from his face, and decided that you were going to do the same.

Your dreams were empty this time. Nothing but a never-ending view of black. It wasn't until you felt something fall besides you that you awoke, but an arm around your waist and weight pressed against your back kept you from lifting yourself up. Still, you turned your head to find that you were staring into the smiling face of Paul, who reached out to cup your cheek as he said,

"Evening, gorgeous." And was ducking his head to steal a kiss. It was sleepy and sweet compared to his usual kisses, and he reached to tickle you just after you pulled away. You reached for his hands with laugh, trying to get him to stop. You heard another noise, the sound of a jacket rustling, and you looked up to find Dwayne standing above you. He'd landed on his feet, just to the side of the corner of your bed. He kneeled on it, sighing as he moved to lay besides the two of you. He was rubbing his face and his eyes, laying on his side and seemingly not happy to be awoken so soon.

"The sun just set." He said, and you knew that it was directed at Paul. Paul rolled his eyes, leaning close until your noses almost brushed.

"How am I supposed to stay asleep when we have such a babe in our cave?" He asked, and he silenced whatever giggle you were going to let out with his lips. Paul only pulled away when Dwaynes hand pushed at his head, dislodging him from your lips. But Dwayne didn't sweep you into a kiss or pull you away. He simply moved to take up the side opposite of Paul, muttering something about how you were warm. When you looked at him, it looked as if he was half-way back to falling asleep. But it didn't last long. Marko was falling at the end of your bed, standing and stretching. He kicked Dwaynes foot, telling him,

"C'mon, man, I'm starving." You smiled. It seemed as if they had this argument every night. Paul and Marko were the early wakers, while they waited on David and Dwayne. It seemed like Dwayne liked to sleep in, but none of them even tried to disturb David. You didn't really have to guess why. You sighed. Even with Markos prompting, Paul was using you as a distraction. And, if the boys weren't going to let you up, you at least tried to recall what had happened earlier in the day.

Without meaning to, you told them everything. And the boys around you stilled. You heard another rustle, and you saw that David had finally woken up. He landed outside the bed, his icy blue eyes trained on you.

"They came?" David asked. His voice was like a knife, cutting through the warm wake-up you'd received. Marko had paled, and David was quick to turn his glare onto the blonde. "You knew?" And, for the first time, you saw Marko stutter.

"I- I thought it was a dream." He said, and David shook his head with a scoff. His gaze turned back on you, and the weights on either side of you lifted. You sat up with them, trying not to shrink under David's stare. His voice was sharp, reminding you exactly why you were here. That you weren't their friend, or their girlfriend. That you were their ally at best.

"Well?" And, for some reason, you knew David wasn't going to be happy with what you had to report.

#the lost boys paul #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #paul the lost boys #the lost boys marko #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #marko the lost boys #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #a reading #the lost boys x reader

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hisoknen · 4 years

Text

pairing: terushima yuji x fem!reader warnings: noncon/dubcon, alcohol, weed, virgin reader, exhibitionism/public sex, sleazy teru, unprotected sex, lil blood wc: 2.6k summary: you meet terushima at a bar while waiting for your date to show up

a/n: thank you @linestrider for reading this over, giving me your brain and encouraging me!! and @sawamooora for putting me down this path of no return,,, if you haven’t read lee’s false god you gotta check it out!

The air in the dingy bar was thick with clouds of smoke wafting in from the outside. No matter how many times you wiped at the table in front of you, it remained sticky.

The stool you were perched on felt off-balance, rocking each time you shifted, as though there was a bunched up piece of paper holding up one of the legs. Each time the door opened and the sound of voices flooded in, you glanced over to see if he was here yet.

Checking your phone it was already well over an hour since he told you to meet him. Never having been fond of dating sites, you grumbled with irritation, giving off a cold air to the drunk men who would slink their way over to hit on you.

“Hey there, cutie.” You turn around, ready to tell another off when you find his face. Your eyes lowered, taking in his carefree impish grin. He was blond with broad shoulders, wearing black jeans and a sleeveless grey shirt. The stranger pulled out the barstool beside you and waved over the bartender ordering a drink.

“I’m not here alone,” you looked straight ahead, trying to brush him off. You looked over the beer tap reading the labels over for the hundredth time that night. Your head tilted when he hummed.

You turn toward him, taking a second to look him over. He had an undercut and spiky blond hair that was slicked back a small tuft in the center of his forehead, and earrings.He gave off the vibe of a sleazy frat boy who hit on drunk girls. Someone who didn’t take things too seriously and wanted to ‘just live in the moment.’

He cocked his head to the side, looking you up and down. He quirked an eyebrow looking around the room. With exaggerated movements, he leaned back on his seat and nodded to the empty seat on your left before shifting his gaze back to you with a playful gleam in his eyes.

“You sure?” His elbow rests against the table, cupping his chin while his eyes dance along your body. Your cheeks heat up at the probing, you roll your eyes, glancing down at your phone.

“Supposed to meet someone.” Picking up your drink, you swirl the straw and watch the ice clink against the glass. The icy liquid slides down your throat, coating it with cranberry juice and cheap vodka that makes you grimace.

What should you have expected, the drinks to taste good in a seedy place like this? You laugh to yourself, tipping back the glass and finishing it off. Your words seem to float in one ear and out the other as he inches closer, snatching your phone. You dart out to grab it, but he leans out of your reach, typing. He pulls out his phone checking it before tucking it away.

“He’s just late,” you huff, your defense falling on deaf ears.

“Looks to me like you’ve been blown off,” he chuckles, scooting in closer. You can’t help but wince at the remark feeling the booze bubble in your gut.

“Sorry I couldn't make it. Something came up.” He drawls, reading from the screen. You rip the phone from his grasp, plunging it into your bag. His arms raised in mock defense, laughing. “Can we get another round?” The blond man ignores your furious gaze, waving over the bartender. Resigning, you shrugged your shoulders. If your prince charming wasn’t going to show up, the least you could do was get some free drinks.

“Anyway. What’s your name, pretty thing?”

“Y/n. you?” you grumble

“Yuuji.”

—

Your mind felt foggy, Terushimas shitty jokes managing to pull laughs from you. The more you looked at him, the more you found him attractive. It was either that or the bottle of vodka pooling in your gut.

Now and then, his tongue would dip out to wet his lips, and you’d see the glint of his tongue ring. The way his hands rested on your thigh, thumbing your flesh, sent a warm hum through you—your breath hitches when you rub your thighs together. Everything about him screamed at you to run away, but you were stuck in place. Staring at him in awe and slurring your words as he fed you drinks.

Under different circumstances, you’d never give a guy like him the time of day, but his playful energy was refreshing. But with a bruised ego and enough alcohol pumping through your veins, you almost found him endearing.

“It’s late. Lemme walk you home.” He drops a set of bills on the table and tugs your arm; you follow him stumbling over your feet. The cold air brushes past your face, bringing bumps to the surface of your skin. He didn’t know where you lived, but he was walking with purpose, dragging your body close to his and slinging a sweaty arm over your shoulder.

“You smell delicious,” his breath reeked of booze and heavy cigarette smoke. You hated the smell, but the warmth of his body enveloping you felt too good against your shivering skin.

He brought a rolled joint to his lips, pausing as he lit it. The smoke lingers as he takes a few short puffs. You watch him as he inhales, the smoke curling as he blows it out.

“Wanna taste?” He brings the joint to his lips. You nod hesitantly, watching as the end of it sizzles, turning red as he sucks in, puffing out his cheeks and letting a cloud out. He quickly sucks it back in, grabbing your jaw to tilt your face up.

You open your mouth, and he blows the smoke in. You breathe in as he blows, his finger brushing at the corner of your lips. You exhale, coughing as it flows out of your lungs. “First time?” The tears prickling at your eyes answers his question. He brings it to his lips, taking a long drag and relaxing his hold on you. Terushima lets out a laugh patting your back and ushering you around the corner.

You choke back a cry when your back meets jagged brick, Terushima’s body pressed tightly against you. One hand is at your side, trapping you against the wall.

His mouth latches onto your neck, leaving behind wet kisses and bites while his hand snakes between your legs. He quickly moves under your skirt, pulling your panties to the side.

“Wait,” you freeze; he continues his sloppy assault against your neck, letting out a soft laugh and inching his fingers closer to your heat.

“S’okay. No need to be nervous, pretty thing.” He pulls away from your throat, a thick line of saliva trailing on his lips. His mouth crashes against yours, tongue eagerly sweeping out to taste you. You try to keep up with him, feeling the cold metal ball intertwined with your muscle.

He pulls away, panting, crushing the joint beneath his feet. He drops his hands to tug at the belt of his jeans. You can’t help but stare down at him as he pulls his cock out from the confines.

Your heart hammering against your chest, watching as he wraps his fingers around his length. It’s thick and veiny, the tip red and weeping. He looks down, pumping it a few times before letting go. You can’t help but shudder when it slaps against his stomach.

“I’ll take care of you.”

Terushima brings two fingers to his mouth, wrapping his lips around them. You can make out his tongue swirling around the digits before pulling them out coated with saliva. He smiles at your lust blown eyes, lips colliding with yours.

You moan against him, tugging at his shirt. His wet fingers easing back into your underwear and brushing against your clit. His tongue lashes out, pulling whimpers from you, leaving you winded and trembling.

“See?” He grins against your lips, kissing the corner before nudging past to find the sweet spot of your neck.

“I’ve never-” you stare up at him with uncertainty. Your blood runs cold. You only learned his name a few hours ago, while waiting to meet someone else.

You didn’t know where he lived or what kind of person he was when he wasn’t trying to get into your pants.

“Fucked somewhere you could get caught? First time for everything, yeah?” His eyes were low, lazily drinking you in, a smile tugging at his lips. Your mouth parts, but you can’t seem to get the words out.

“No way,” his eyes widened, “a virgin?” His jaw drops, voice picking up. He looked excited, eagerly grabbing your thigh and pulling it under his arm, wrapping it around his waist.

He reaches for his cock dragging it against your slick folds, searching your eyes for confirmation. You nod meekly staring back at him with a small smile.

“I’ll be gentle,” he hums. His voice is sweet and deceptive, the feeling of his cock tapping against your clit, pushing away your thoughts. His hand is wrapped around his cock, flicking the head against your bundle of nerves and back through slick folds.

“I promise.” He presses the tip against your tight hole, holding your hip tightly with his other hand. You let out a yelp when he pushes forward, fingertips digging into your flesh.

“Might wanna be quiet.” he purrs against your ear, “unless you want an audience.” Your hand clamps around your mouth, stifling the cries. A daze begins to creep in, your mouth dry and body shivering under his hands.

“Shh, just a bit more. You’ll look so pretty with my cock filling you up.” He talks to you as though his words alone can ease you onto his cock. Your walls are fighting against him, threatening to push him out each time he moves.

“Condom-” you stutter, trying to pull away. His grip tightens as he pushes deeper, pulling your hips in to meet him.

“I won’t cum inside s’fine,” he groans, landing his forehead against yours. His eyes are downcast, watching his cock disappear inside of your fluttering hole.

“Just relax a little,” he grunts, pulling out and easing back in. It feels like you’re being torn in half, only able to take the tip with each pump. His fingers reach down to tug and spin your clit, movements hasty and lust-driven. “Fuck, that’s it.” His hisses at the feeling of your cunt slowly sucking him in. Your eyes shoot open when his other hand slams inches from your face, boxing you in.

Terushima presses a sloppy kiss to your lips, dragging his teeth against your puffy lower lip. He tugs on it, a breathy moan falling from your lips. Your mind is swimming in a haze, cunt quivering and releasing slowly around him.

“Just like that. Fuck.” His fingers languidly roll against your clit, his hips stuttering. The drag of his cock easing in and out of you burns.

“Yuuji, it hurts,” you hiccup, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Your hips ache, thigh trembling around his waist. His cock impaling you and his hold on your leg are the only things keeping your shaking leg on the ground.

“It always hurts the first time. It’ll feel real good soon, promise.” His words don’t help the sharp pain radiating between your legs. Looking down, you see a white sheen mixed with blood covering his cock.

“If it really hurt that bad, you wouldn’t be gushing around me like this.” The words spewing from his mouth are filthy. You felt filthy. Moaning and letting a stranger hump into you like some back alley hooker. Terushima’s fingers swipe against his cock, gathering your slick and spreading on your clit. He pushes down, circling it with each thrust.

You feel breathless each time you go to bring air into your lungs. He plunges into you, forcing it out. All you can manage is holding onto his shoulders, pulling him against you while he fucks into you.

“Anyone could find us. Isn’t that exciting?” He laughs, pounding into you relentlessly searching for his release as you cry out against his neck. You bite down on his shoulder, muffling your moans, pulling a low growl from his throat.

“God, you’re fucking hot,” Terushima rolls his hips into you, fucking into you with rabid intensity. Thick tears flood down your cheeks as he pulls out of you. The release of pressure has your mind swimming, not noticing he’s flipped you to face the wall until he shoves his cock into you, pushing your cheek against the brick. A burst erupts in the hollow of your belly, being tugged and lolled around with each piston of his hips.

His hands snake under your shirt, kneading your tits while his other hand dives between your thighs, rubbing sloppy circles into your swollen clit.

It’s hard to make out if he’s grunting praise or filth against your neck, his stomach colliding with your back as he drives against you with reckless abandon. His cock grazes your cervix, and you let out a scream in the empty alley. Cheeks raw from rubbing against the brick. Your fingers dig into it, nails scraping down the wall. Terushima pinches and pulls at your nipples,

“S’ too deep Yuuji,” you cry out, the pain morphing into a twisted pleasure that riddles through your brain and stomach. You hiccup choking on your tears and moans, body pushing back to meet each of his sharp thrusts, chasing the warm tingle in your gut.

“Fuck, so tight.” His fingers push down on your puffy clit sending you over the edge. Your body shudders, jerking against him, and he bites down on your shoulder, groaning at the strong pulses of your cunt gripping him.

Your body falls limp in his arms, no strength left in your legs. You're held up by Terushima’s grip on your hips, his cock desperately humping between your folds. Only the lewd sound of your squelching cunt and his balls slapping against your skin fills the alley. You mumble, pleading with him to pull out but he keeps driving into you, not caring for the incoherent babbles that flood past your lips.

Your stomach flexes as he falls still inside of you, holding your body down onto his cock and filling you with ropes of cum. Your head falls back against his shoulder, knees buckling.

Terushima holds for a moment soaking in the feeling of your tight hole fluttering around his cock, milking him before pulling out of you. He eases you onto the concrete, catching your head before it crashes against the wall. He tilts your chin up, pressing a kiss against breathless lips.

“That was fun. We should do it again sometime.” Terushima kisses your quivering lips standing and buckling his pants. He runs his fingers through his hair, using his shirt to wipe away the sweat coating his face.

“Should clean up soon. It’d be bad if someone found you out here all alone like this.” You nod, your head limbs numb and unmoving. Cold air hitting your cunt, the feeling of his cum slowly oozing out of you and slicking up your thighs as his footsteps fade out of sight.

Your hands shake, reaching to push yourself off of the ground with quaking legs. You hold onto the wall, brushing your skirt down and grabbing your purse.

Taking a breath, you step away, slowly making your way to the entrance of the alley. You glance back to the spot where you just were, thinking back to what had just happened before turning the corner.

You dig your hands into your purse, pulling your phone out to call a taxi. Typing in the number your eyes flicker to notification appearing at the top of the screen, stopping you in your tracks.

There’s a first time for everything

—

#terushima x reader #terushima x reader smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #terushima yuuji x reader smut #hq x reader smut #terushima smut #tw blood #tw dubcon #tw drugs #tw: exhibitionism #tw weed #tw virginity #tw manipulation #tw noncon #tw alcohol

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funnyexel · 3 years

Text

Something About You

Loki x Black Female Reader

A/n : In honor of the kick off of Loki, I’ve made this little short story about him. Thanks for 90+ followers! Requests are open! Masterlist Mega List

You sat in the same seat you always did. In the same coffee shop you always visited but somehow today felt different...It didn’t feel like the other days. Typing away on your laptop, a towering male takes a seat across from you. Ignoring him, you continue your work. Stealing a glance, you see he has been staring at you. Clearing your throat, you try your best to sound intimidating. “Can I help you?” You look up from your screen for a few moments. He shakes his head, still in awe with something about you.

“Look. I don’t want to be rude or anything but your staring is kind of distracting me.” You finally stop what your doing, trapping him in solid eye contact. Your eyes roam around his figure for a moment. Jet black hair, that reached his shoulders. Pale skin, that looked even paler compared to yours and a lazily sharp jaw. “What are you writing?” Your face twisted in a confused format. “A book. I am writing a book.” You take a sip of your drink. “Don’t let me stop you.” He gives a peering smirk.

With a huff, you go back to typing. His eyes are still fixed on you. Saving your document and closing your laptop. You fold your hands on top of the device. “Ok, what? You have my full attention.” He chuckles at your words. His laugh shaking you to your core. “What kind of book are you writing?” You lean your head on your hand. “I don’t know yet. I’m kind of having writers block at the moment.” He nods his head to you. Your eyes gliding over this handsome stranger. “That does seem quite frustrating.” His voice smooth and his wording proper. “Yes, very.” You look out the window for a moment before turning your head back to him and putting your hand out.

“I’m Y/n.” You introduce yourself to him, taking your hand he introduced himself. “I’m Loki.” His cold palm met your warm one and lightly shook. “Nice to meet you Loki.”

Y/n and Loki have met in that coffee shop ever since that day. It was their spot. They got to know each other. He’d tell her ridiculous stories about his home. Going on about how his father wouldn’t treat him like a son, how his brother is a brain dead doofus, and how he felt different from others. She could relate to some of his issues. He wanted to better himself and he told her, he was in a situation he couldn’t get out of. Months pass, you were on your way to your apartment from your publishers office in Midtown Manhattan.

“Yeah, yeah the avengers are cool and all but no one ever considers the damages after their battles. People call me crazy because I don’t like this area.” You talk to yourself, quietly as you walk to the subway. Suddenly hearing screams and commotion, you turn your walk into a sprint. “This is why I don’t like this area!” You slide your card and your train comes into view. A spark of hope flares in your eye. Your footsteps slow to a stop, that spark in your eye dying instantly as the train gets blasted to pieces.

The creatures speaking their foreign language, you slowly back up and run out of the subway. Stopping dead in your tracks at the sight. Some type of floats in the sky and more creatures. “I should have stayed in New Jersey.” You jog away from the subway entrance as footsteps become louder. Finding a building, you bang on the door. “Hello!? SOMEONE PLEASE OPEN THE DOOR” You hear shuffling inside, you know people are in there. “Please! I Know Someone Is In There!” You project your voice. Hitting the door one last time, you move on. “I hope it was worth it Y/n. You just had to give your publisher a paper copy because it was the best book you’ve ever written.”

You mock yourself. On the verge of tears. You suck those tears up at the sight of more creatures. Turning back, two appear behind you. Push comes to shove and somehow, someway you got taken on one of those floaty thingy’s. “Let go of me!” You twist and turn, trying to get out of their grasp. “Someone!” You scream. Seeing an opportunity to get out their grasp, you take it and get pushed off. Now falling from god knows how many feet, you scream fearing your inevitable fate. A pain hits your stomach, a hand holding your back. You groan, gripping onto the back for dear life. “damn, that hurt.” You mutter as your stomach aches. You lift your chin up, your head spinning.

“oh look at that...a blond man?” Your head was messing with you at this point. Hallucinations clouding your thoughts. You hear the person under you curse. Two palms hold onto each side of your waist, pushing you off with enough force to rip your hands off their back. A great power pushing you away. In the midst of it all, you get a glimpse of that recognizable long dark hair. “loki.” You roll backwards, your butt hitting the ground hard. Those tears that you were holding in before, flew freely down your cheeks. You attempted to wipe them away but they kept coming. Looking around through the tears, you see you’re in Central Park. Somewhere they didn’t reach yet, people were walking around like it was any other day.

The pain of your ribs comes backs to bite, as you feel two of your ribs break. “Damn you and your strong shoulders.” You collapse, not yet having the energy to move from that spot. “Ma’am, are you alright?” You look aside. “yes.” You find the strength to wipe away the tears, holding your ribs as you sit up. A small pain hits your shoulder. “no.” You tilt and fall back into your spot, blacking out.

You groan, your head pounding almost as painfully as before. “Y/n L/n. Orphan. Mildly Popular Book Author. Three books published.” You force your eyes to focus in the dimly lit room. “where am I?” Your hand flies to your ribs as you sit up in the chair. “Unimportant. What’s important is why the chitauri would go out their way to get you.” You look at the black man. “I don’t know.” You breathe out. “You should know something.” Looking around the room, your eyes trail back to the man. “I know something.” You pause your sentence for suspense. “I know I have two broken ribs from being tossed around like a rag doll.” He chuckles for a moment before doing a hand motion.

A few moments pass, your wounds get tended to, with the black man gone, a few new comers take over. “Why would you let him do an invasion?” And before you could breathe a sign of relief, you get bombarded with questions. “I didn’t let him do anything.” They were convinced you had something to do with the invasion. “What were you doing in the area? Why did the chitauri capture you?” They were beginning to make your head hurt all over again. “I was giving my publisher a copy of my book and I don’t know.” You tried your best to answer the questions but they refuse to believe your answers.

“What part of “I don’t know” do you not understand? I keep telling you I don’t know meaning I actually don’t kn-” Your sentence gets cut off with a hissing of the restraint, they place on your mouth. Attempting to pull it off, they respond with grabbing your wrists and putting on handcuffs. Yanking you out the seat. “Maybe you’ll know like this.” They practically drag you to your next destination. “Get in.” It wasn’t a choice. Pushing you into a small capsule. They shut the glass, it wasn’t the roomiest of spaces. “Someone will talk.”

You flinch at the sudden light, shining brightly into your eyes. “Do the avengers know you’re doing this?” Loki tries not to show his panic. This isn’t what he wanted for you. He didn’t want you to get caught up in his mess. “They don’t need to know as long as we get information.” You see the mans hand shift to a panel. Using the heavy duty cuffs you try to break the glass. Muffled screams come from your capsule. You shake your head, pleading for him not to drop the capsule. “Last chance.” Loki traps your eyes in a gaze, for the seemingly last time. Without remorse he pushed the button causing your capsule to-

Your knuckles ache as your hands rip away from the sheets. With a groan, you sit up and dangle your feet over the edge of the bed. ‘I hate that nightmare.’ You sigh. Standing to your feet and looking back to the abnormally large bed made for two. Putting on shorts, you walk over to the kitchen. That’s what you loved about this place it was all one floor, very easy to get everywhere. Sitting at the island stool, you rub your fourhead. Gazing out the window missing your lover. You decided to leave the house. But not before leaving a note, just in case he came back before you.

“went to earth for a little. will be back later. xoxo y/n”

Stepping outside into your yard. You click the little device Loki “borrowed” from his brother. Selecting “Midgard” a bright light taking you to the desired planet. Your nightmare recommencing on the way.

The whirling winds of the storm happening on the outside abused the capsule as it fell into a foggy cloak. Before you could realize, what you’d done. You were holding onto a bright gold little hint of green string. It was powerful. “Did I just do that?” You said to yourself. The highspeed winds making it impossible to hear yourself.

A loud crash echoed the vacant alleyway as you are brought onto the planet. “I need to fix that.” You groan, getting off the floor and looking around to see which area you’re in. Waiting patiently for a crowd of people to walk by, you quickly step out of the alleyway and join them, blending in. You stop at your coffee shop, missing their signature drinks and food. You sat at your usual back table. The worker recognized you and began to prepare your order. While waiting you, spent your time on social media. You saw your friends and how they’re getting their lives together. You noticed that they were messaging you about how you never post anymore and how they are worried about you.

Thanking the worker with a smile as they placed your order down, you take the time to try and respond to most of the messages. Your leg began to bounce and you started to feel uneasy. Steadily glancing up from your phone, you saw nothing out of the ordinary. A small tap on your shoulder startled you. Your eyes following the well shaven man sit in the seat across from you. His aura was fairly strong but compared to yours it was faint and weak. For a moment your leg stopped but then your hand began to tap on the table. Your anxiety becoming known. “Can I help you?” You ask, trying to continue to reply to the messages and distract yourself from this man.

“I’m Doctor Strange and I’d like to have a word with you.”

Part 2?

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

innocence - 04

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, sexual harassment (please don’t read this chapter if it triggers/makes you uncomfortable, your safety comes first)

A/N: i do realise i’m on a roll posting every day but uni starts early and idk why i keep writing like i’m running out of time😂 hope you enjoy this chapter. much love xx

* additionally, there is a light sexual harassment scene in this chapter and if anyone is uncomfortable or triggered by it i would skip it. your mental health and safety come first. *

NEXT CHAPTER

One day I’ll fly away...

She remembered the very first role she got to play as a lead. She was the standby for Glinda in Wicked. She could still feel her hand shaking as the backstage technicians secured her to the bubble. She could still hear the bubble machine engine rumble as the bubble raised up in the ceiling and for a moment she was above everything - above the audience, above the cast, above the stage itself. It felt like flying, soaring through the gasping of the crowd. She remembered feeling like this was her height, this was her flight but as things went, as she got more roles and as she progressed to the screen as she always wanted, the feeling of flying just seemed to soar, turning her into a creature of air.

Flying for Bucky was something he couldn’t remember, he remembered crashing. Remembered falling from the train waiting for the peaceful slumber of death to come but it never did, remembered the cold snow melting through his jacket reaching his skin. It’s cold. Remembered diving in after Steve, lungs filled with water, heavy suit. It’s cold, it’s quiet. Soaring was only something he could dream of while frozen or when they put him on a cell with a small window. Crashing was more like something he could remember, drowning, pushed to the bottom by his arm, wishing death came to greet him

More powerful than crashing was sound. The theatre was always filled with whistling from men getting a peak at ladies’ legs, women giggling and security trying to keep out children and teens away. You could hear the laughter reverberating from any material, it was electrifying. Her voice however seemed to melt over distorted past sounds, a melancholy while held hands with the old telling it never of its former glory but of what it can be. Bucky knew now why her agency kept her so locked up, all people with a voice eventually fly away.

- Don’t just stare at me. - she bite her lip, looking the other way. Did she sound that bad? She thought she sounded just fine in the shower that morning, maybe her bathroom had better acoustics. - Should we go back home? Before it gets dark?

- Sure. - he got up from his seat, extending his hand towards her so she could jump off the set. She put her hand in his, another hand coming to rest upon his shoulder as her elevated her up into the air before bringing her down onto the worn out floor.

The walk back to the subway was quiet. People were starting to crowd Coney Island for night time dates. Bucky remembered bringing girls to dates in Coney Island, even remembered bringing Steve along, he just didn’t remember the girls’ names anymore. There were some flashes of what they were wearing but surely those memories were replaced with that of Y/N staring at the ferris wheel as they walked back to the subway.

Once there, her child like wonder of the city that never slept and the city which she now lived in didn’t seem to leave her eyes, sparkling brighter than the billboards in Times Square. The walk back to the apartment was once again quiet, with their footsteps being the only thing echoing in the halls. Soon enough they reached her door, still looking as intact as they left it.

- Thank you so much for showing me Coney Island. - she handed him the teddy he had won. - Thank you gift.

- I won it for you, Y/N. Besides, I think I’m a bit past stuffed animals.

- Well, I’ve had my fair share of stuffed animals to last a life time and I insist you keep this one. - she stuffed the teddy between his arms, finding it incredibly adorable how the little toy looked smaller in the middle of his arms than in hers. - Little Coney Island memento.

- I should get going. - he changed the subject, gesturing with his hands as he looked at the time on his watch. - It’s been a great day, Y/N.

- The pleasure’s been all mine, Bucky. - she smiled as she held the edge of the door. She stood by the slightly opened door watching as he turned the corner which led to the lift. Once he was out of sight, Y/N walked into her apartment, closing the door behind her but still holding the knob with a silly smile on her face.

Bucky reached the headquarters around 11 PM. Despite going the long way home, expecting Steve to be asleep when he returned. Steve had a very mundane routine when it came to sleeping, he could still sleep but he would wait until everyone was asleep for him to go to his bedroom. Bucky didn’t want to have to dance the first day in the job waltz. He knew he cared, he knew Steve wanted him to be alright. There was only one small thing; Steve wanted Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, his Bucky, and he just wasn’t that man anymore. He didn’t like being asked who he was, he doesn’t know who he is.

Opening the door to the living room, he found Captain America himself sat on the big lounge chair, skimming through his list of modern day TV shows and movies. His blue eyes moved from the bright lights of the television to him.

- How was the first day? - he questioned, regular optimism present in his voice. Steve had remained the same, maybe it was that which made him believe the spectre of the boy Bucky was could be revived. He seemed to forget dead people can’t be revived.

- It was good, went to Coney Island.

- Coney Island? - Steve muted the TV, contorted face expression settling into his youthful features. - I thought you were going to guard her door.

- She wanted to see Coney Island. Couldn’t let her go alone?

- Didn’t her personal assistant tell you she couldn’t leave? - he had been noisey, he had looked into Bucky’s contract. He told himself it was just in case, just in case Bucky needed his help. - You don’t want to get in any trouble, specially with agencies. They’re the devil.

- I’ll take it into consideration. - his skin tightened as he smiled a tight straight line.

- Do you wanna stay for a while? I’m watching a series Sam recommended.

- I think I’m gonna just go to sleep.

Steve nodded allowing Bucky to return to his bedroom. There wasn’t much in the bedroom, a bed, side table and wardrobe, nothing else. No mirrors and no windows, silence, grey and black bedding, no decoration rather than a postcard his sister had sent him during the war framed in a plastic frame. No glass, Steve wanted nothing around he could harm himself with. It was almost like living in an insane asylum.

He looked at the little teddy bear in his hands before placing it on the side table, a little smile on his face. A Coney Island memento indeed.

The morning came rushing like the rain which fell against Y/N’s bedroom glass window. She turned around in her bedding, pushing her knitted quilt up to her nose, the scent of fresh crisp cotton invading her senses. The mood would’ve remained the same comfortable, early morning type had it not been for her comforter being yanked off her without any warning. Through the fogginess of morning sight, she could make out Ms. Olson in her traditional black suit co-ord. She thought it fitting, considering her morning was now ruined.

- Get up. We have much to do. - she barked like an infuriating dog.

- But I thought I had the weekend off.- Y/N rubbed the sleep of her eyes, sitting up, quilt covering her body.

- You have last mine commitment. Now run along and change into something more ... - he analysed her before gazing her face, tight expression settling in. - Enchanting.

She left Y/N in the bedroom, clenching her bedding as she looked around the place she’d rather be. Nevertheless, she rose from her bed and walked up to her wardrobe grabbing the first dress she could find and a pair of heels. Her routine during work was different, she normally showered, got her makeup done, dressed and then out of the door. Mechanic, controlled, with Ms. Olson asking her to hurry up. In a split second she returned to the living room, bag held on her shoulder, sunglasses in hand as she prepared to walk out with Miss Olson.

- You should’ve put some product on your hair. The ends look dry. - Miss Olson commented as they walked outside. She looked around hoping Bucky would be around but it was just her and Miss Olson.

- Is Mr. Barnes not coming?

- It’s a dress rehearsal. - Y/N froze in her mind. Dress rehearsals were supposed to be better than fittings but after her last experience she really wasn’t in the mood for another experience with the director.

Time seemed to stop, freeze in spot as she stepped inside the car. No noise, no sound, even colour seemed to fade as the car drove faster and faster. She wondered what she could do, open the door, roll over, maybe do it like what she had seen in Lady Bird but the driver always kept the door fully locked and Miss Olson always had her eye on her like Sauron’s Eye.

She looked at her phone in her lap, fingers loomed over Bucky’s name. He was employed by her, maybe she could ask him to come over. Maybe if he was there it would be easier. She sent the message hopeful he would reply, but the text bounced back. Looking at the network, she was lacking all the bars on her phone. Sighing, she leaned against the car seat, looking off the window, dark clouds on the blue sky mocking her.

As the car came to a halt on the same building as before, she almost had to be pulled out the car by Miss Olson. Once inside, Y/N could see him, she could smell his patchouli fragrance as he wrapped his arm around her. She stood once again in front of the camera lights, muffled cries in her head as she was squeezed into a corset and a then a body con dress. Her eyes were blinded by the lights, behind those lights Miss Olson and Mister Powell gazing at her. Her hand slide down her collarbones to her lap, feeling the fabric as the cameras kept flashing, locking her in a case of lights.

Once the lights dimmed, she could see them looking down at her, almost five feet tall, mumbling she couldn’t hear as one of the costume designers helped her out.

- Costumes are looking fantastic. - the director walked up to her, hand wrapping itself around her waist, raising up to lay just below her breast. - Maybe you should try and cut some weight. You would look a bit better.

- We’ve already started a diet plan. - Miss Olson added. - Not to worry, Mr. Powell. Y/N is fully invested in this movie.

She remained caged in the conversation, being moved by someone back onto the car and dropped at home. She looked around her hallway, wondering if it had always been this cold. As she opened the door to her home, she noticed the jar of flowers the director had sent her on her kitchen balcony. White carnations in a crystal clear jar. She stormed to the kitchen, ripping the tag of the carnations. To my perfect leading lady. The handwriting wasn’t his, probably his assistant.

When had it all gone so wrong? Why did it felt wrong? Why did the flight felt like a burning crash? When did it all get so screwed up?

She wrapped her hands around the glass jar, hands trembling, the sound of her ring hitting against the glass being the only thing she heard before a shattering sound filled her mind. It was fast, too fast but she threw the jar against the wall, watching as the glass shattered into a thousand pieces, falling into the ground like small diamonds. She thought it would make her feel better but instead she feel to the ground, trying to gather the pieces together as guilt embraced her.

- Y/N?

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mayans-sauce · 3 years

Text

✨Day 8✨

Pairing: Bishop Losa x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, cursing, daddy kink to the max, masturbation (male/female), sex toy-ish, mention of bodily fluids and a lot more dirty stuff lol

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❕When the text is in cursive that’s Bishop’s thoughts, dialogue and story while watching the videos you send him❕

❤️✨Advent Calendar Masterlist✨❤️

Thank you so much for reading and supporting! It really means a lot! I love you all❤️

Advent Calendar taglist: @hey-taylor-hey @justahopelessssromantic @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @curtainlover @yourwonkywriter @tomhardydallasstarsgirl

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Filming something at the clubhouse had been the number one thing you had wanted to do. Since all of the guys were away on the business trip, it left the clubhouse almost completely empty all the time, except for Chucky being there to hold down the fort.

You had sent him home early that evening, telling him that you would stay a while to get some stuff in order, so he might as well just take an early night.

Walking around the place as your mind races with ideas. At first, you thought that sitting your naked self on the pool table would be fun and have a little play session, but that just seemed too easy. You wanted it to be something special for Bishop, something that held a great value to him.

As you stepped into Templo, your eyes locked themselves on his gavel, sitting peacefully on the table. “No... I shouldn't.. should I?” Biting your fingernails as you contemplated if you should do this. You weren't sure if Bishop would be mad at you for doing this.

Looking at his chair, sitting lonely in the room, begging for you to sit your sweet ass on it. It was almost too perfect.

“Fuck it; I'm doing it.”

Grabbing the gavel and hurrying to the bathroom to give it a good wash. As you washed it thoroughly, you couldn't help but start loving this idea more and more. This was definitely going to get you punished when he got home, and just the thought of it made you wet by the seconds.

Getting back into the room again, you looked around. This was the place where they sat and discussed important business, the place where decisions were made, and you were about to do the most unholy thing in the room, and none of them would know except for Bishop.

You felt shy and nervous as you started to take off your clothes. Yes, you were all alone, and you were 99% sure that they didn't have any hidden cameras in here, but just the whole atmosphere felt intimidating.

Sitting on his chair as you got into position, spreading your legs wide for him to see you. Setting up the phone on the table, so he had a full view of you sitting on his throne.

Pressing record, and you were now ready to rock his world.

✨—————————✨

Traveling your hands all over yourself as you warmed up for what you were about to do.

“I wanted to do something very special for you, Bishop, something I knew you would never forget, especially when you walk into this room and sit in this chair. I think you can already guess where I am.”

“In my fucking chair, in... fuck... sweetheart... you are lucky that I'm not over there, or else I would have you bent over my knee and given you a good spanking.”

Bishop had already prepared himself for the video. Just as last night, he was naked on his bed with his dick in his hand, waiting for you to progress with your little show.

Putting two fingers in your mouth as you sucked them nice and wet. Making the travel down your body as you stop at your most precious spot, hovering your fingers over your sensitive pearl.

Looking into the camera with your brow arched, asking him through the screen if you should continue. You imagined that he was already begging you to continue with what you were about to do.

Putting pressure on your clit and rubbing it in delicate circles. The sensation making you close your legs for a moment but quickly prying them open again as you knew Bishop wanted to see.

He started to pump himself in his hand, and he prayed that you would keep your word today and not be a little cock tease.

Slipping your fingers into your wet pussy as your other hand palmed your breast. This was only the pre-show. You had a whole fucking event planned out for him.

Stopping everything you were doing as you giggled out.

“Don't worry, daddy, I'm not done yet. This was only the beginning. I have an even more special surprise for you. Something that is always going to be ingrained in your brain when you look at this.”

You reached behind your back where you had hidden his gavel and held it up for him to see.

“Fuck are you serious.” Bishops heart almost jumped out of his chest, his eyes getting darker with desire, and he could feel himself twitching in his hand.

“I'm going to be a good girl and make myself cum with this daddy.”

Taking the handle into your mouth as best as you could, sucking on it like it was his dick. “Mmm, I bet this is making your cock so fucking hard. The thought that I'm about to fuck myself with your gavel.”

When the handle was slick with your saliva, you made the painfully slow journey down to the area where you needed to feel it the most. Making a stop at your breasts to circle your nipples gently with the tip.

Traveling down further, you stopped at your most sensitive place, your clit pulsing in need to be touched. When you made contact with it, you let out a loud gasp.

Bishop was still slowly teasing himself at the sight of you. He had already wanted to chase his high multiple times, but he knew that the reward of waiting until you came together was going to be mind-blowing.

The anticipation was killing you, and all you wanted was to fill yourself up. But you continued to tease him, drawing out the time.

“What do you think, daddy? Should I put it in? Fuck myself with it and imagining that it's your big cock fucking me?”

“Fuck, yes! Be a good little girl for me and make yourself cum.”

Quickly putting it in your mouth again before you brought it down to your entrance.

Slowly slipping it inside of yourself. The thickness of the handle made you arch your back at the slight painful stretch, but all in all, it felt heavenly. “Fuck, that's so big.”

Bishop felt like he was going to have a heart attack. There you were sat. His fucking queen on his throne with his gavel deep inside your warm tight pussy.

Grabbing onto the metal part of the gavel, you slowly started to move it out until only the tip was inside and then filling yourself up again. Moaning out at the now delicious stretch. “So good... so good, daddy.”

Sticking your thumb into your mouth like Bishop would do most of the time. Sucking your thumb and moaning around it. Increasing the speed of the gavel.

Moving your wet thumb down to circle your needy clit. “Fuck daddy, that feels so good.”

Bishops eyes were fixated on your needy pussy swallowing his gavel whole. His hand moving faster on his hardness as he neared his climax.

Pulling your new favorite toy out to show him how it was covered in your wetness. “This is how you make me feel, Bishop. Wet and horny only for you.”

Pushing it inside of you again, now you were desperate to get to the finish line. Moving the handle rapidly in your tight hole. Your other hand palming your breasts, pulling and pinching your erect nipples for added stimulation.

“I'm going to cum, daddy... are you going to cum as well? I want us to cum together.”

“Fuck keep talking like that, baby.” His heavy moans were the only thing that could be heard in his room. His dick was twitching in his grasp as it was begging to cum.

You felt that heavenly pressure snap inside of you as your warm wetness exploded out of you. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Daddy, please! Fuck me, please. So fucking good.” Holding onto the armchair as the pleasure was too much to handle. Your whole body shaking as you tried the best that you could to move the gavel through your orgasm. Stars clouded your vision as your mind went foggy.

White delicious cream burst out of his tip, covering his hand and abs. This was possibly one of Bishop's strongest orgasms he has had in his life. He felt like he might have a heart attack and pass out. Head hung low as he basked in the post-orgasm feeling, his hand still pumping himself slowly as he wanted it to last forever.

Once you had calmed down from the intense orgasm, you pulled the handle out. Winching as your core was way too sensitive now.

Holding it in front of the camera so that he could have a good look at your thick cream sliding down it.

“That was so good, Bishop. I need to do this again sometime.”

Putting it inside of your mouth to clean it up. “Mmm, taste so good.”

Moving closer to the camera so that he could see your face better. “I hope you liked the show, daddy. Now I think I may do a round two just for myself.”

“Naughty girl.”

Blowing him a sweet kiss and saying your goodbyes.

“Bye, daddy, I love you.”

✨—————————✨

”I love you baby.”

Bishop didn't know what to do with himself after. He was still holding onto himself as his other hand went over his eyes to calm down.

After a few minutes, he picked his phone up again and snapped a picture of the mess that was made, and sent it to you.

📲To: My Wife❤️

Look at the mess you made baby girl!

📲From: My Wife❤️

Looks delicious😈 wish I was there to clean it up😘 you know I always love the taste of you.

📲To: My Wife❤️

Don't start with that now! You are going to get me hard again.

📲From: My Wife❤️

And what if that's exactly what I want to do😈

📲To: My Wife❤️

Are you trying to kill your old man over here?!

📲From: My Wife❤️

Maybe☺️ so I'm guessing that you enjoyed my little performance?

📲To: My Wife❤️

Daddy was very pleased with you little girl. Looking like the queen you are on your throne. I think you gave me a heart attack.

📲From: My Wife❤️

Be careful old man! I don't want you going to an elder home just yet😉

📲To: My Wife❤️

Haha. Very funny.

📲From: My Wife❤️

So is this something you would like to see again?

📲To: My Wife❤️

Next time I will be in the room watching your little play baby girl🍆💦

📲From: My Wife❤️

Sounds like a plan❤️

📲To: My Wife❤️

It's a date!

#Day 8 #Advent Calendar with Bishop #mayans mc #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc smut #mayans mc fandom #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fx #mayans x reader #mayans smut #mayans fandom #mayans fanfic #mayans fx #bishop losa #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa smut #bishop losa fanfiction #obispo losa #michael irby

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thebrownssociety · 3 years

Text

Across The Serververse Chapter 3

Hey! I'm back. Firstly, thank you to @thatsalotoftoons, @preciouslittletoonette and @ananicoleta for commenting and reblogging this.

Secondly, this chapter is what I like to call the 'explanation chapter'. I've tried not to info-dump, and I've edited it at least 3 different times trimming it down, so hopefully this is not to complicated, but I must admit the Serververse really intrigues me as a world and I'm really looking forward to exploring it through this.

See chapter 1 for the disclaimer and let's crack on.

Every other time Bugs had been to WB Central it had been buzzing, characters from all properties walking around, a few friendly arguments, a few hard-core fights, even a few drag races [usually the car kind, not the Queen kind]

Now however, it was quiet. Vewy, very quiet as a certain well-known hunter would say. There were quite a lot of characters milling around the place, but none of the energy that usually accompanied them. Also, it was dark, Bugs realised, not pitch-black, but darker than usual. Like someone had placed a cover over a still-turned on screen.

“Eh...what happened?” Bugs asked Pepe and Penelope.

They looked just as confused as him. “We do not know.” Pepe admitted.

“We’ve been on that cruise for 6 months, we’ve not been back here.” Penelope said, looking close to tears. “This iz awful”“ She added, tears springing to her eyes.

As Pepe started to try and calm her down, a familiar voice lifted Bugs’s spirit.

“Bugs, Pepe, Penelope! How lovely to see you all again!”

“Marvin!” Bugs exclaimed in delight, running over to the little Martian, picking him up and swinging him round joyously. “Am oi glad ta see you! What’s happened here? It’s like someone’s cut de power!”

“You’re more correct than you might think.” Marvin said, when Bugs had put him down. “Warner Brothers have seen fit to disable the entire system until they can get access to it again. Theirs's a problem, you understand. It appears the ‘famous Looney Tunes characters-” Here here made air quotes. “- have been put into different worlds. None of the humans can figure out why and are attributing it to a virus. They’ve called in multiple Information Technology people, but none of them can figure it out. Then again.” Marvin conceded. “I highly doubt any of them have dealt with a sentient A.I. before. All we know is it’s causing panic in the human verse - you can hear it if you get close enough to the portal - and what they’ve done is essentially put the worlds the other Looney’s have gone into into ‘freeze mode’ so they can’t shift or do anything else until they figure out what��s going on.” At the end of that rather lengthy explanation, Marvin sighed. “They may be there for quite some while.”

“So...lemme get dis straight.” Bugs said, thoughtfully. “We can’t get to the human world?”

“That is correct. Rhythm has blocked the portal into the human world to all WB characters.”

“And we can’t get in and out of the other worlds the rest of the fam are stuck in?”

“That is correct.” Marvin said, again. “Although-” He added. “-I think that may change now. Might I enquire how you guys got here?”

Bugs explained the events leading up to this moment - including how Rhythm had flung the toons to the other worlds - and Marvin nodded. “Interesting. I think I understand, but it requires a bit more explanation. Please walk with me while I fill us all in. Now, you may be wondering how I knew where to find you? I simply used my Tracker-3000 from Mars-” Marvin waved the device in the air. “-to track where you were. It’s a device I had gifted for me from the King Of Neptune. I had hoped I would never need to use it, but unfortunately I have-”

“-You’ve tracked us?” Bugs echoed, more than slightly disturbed.

Marvin blinked. “Yes. Was that not clear? Please, do not think I did this idly. I hoped I wouldn’t need to ever use the trackers, but unfortunately I have had to. Anyway, I could see that you, Bugs, were in Tune Town, but none of us could get to you. I made further investigations with some of the more technically advanced characters here and it looks like Rhythm has placed a block on all current WB characters. None of us can enter or leave any of the other worlds. You may be able to see where I’m going with this?” he added, as an aside.

“Pepe isn’t a current character.” Penelope said, softly.

Marvin nodded eagerly. “Correct, sister. As Pepe isn’t a current character it seems he can travel between the worlds, and - judging by the fact you are here as well and the boat showed no issue with travelling - it seems that anything he is travelling on or with is likewise given ‘a free pass’, so to speak. Now-” Marvin cleared his throat. “I wish to seek clarification on this point, so please forgive my impertinence - but at the exact moment you and Pepe travelled through to Toon world were you...” A faint blush adjured the Martians cheeks. “...touching at all?”

“We were holding hands.” Penelope said, easily. “We were the second time as well.”

“Hold on, oi wasn't holdin’ hands with them.” Bugs said, quickly.

“No, but you were in ‘Big Chungus’ form, so that was probably what allowed you access. Now, with that information in mind, I would guess, Pepe, that anything you are touching - be it an inanimate object or another toon, will travel through as well. Or maybe it’s just everything that is on something you’re touching can travel as well?” Marvin added, thoughtfully. “That would explain how the captain of the boat could travel-”

Bugs groaned and ran a hand across his forehead. “Look Marvin, as fascinating as all dis is, it’s a bit much. Can you jus’ tell me where de others are so we can get going?”

“Certainly. Could you just remind me who actually got teleported, please?”

That was no issue for Bugs as the images would forever be burned into his mind. “Daffy, Porky, Lola, Elmer, Sylvester, Tweety, Granny, Speedy, Wile.E, Road-Runner, Foghorn, Taz, Yosemite Sam, Gossamer and Witch Hazel.”

“Well, I can help you with one of them.” Marvin said, as they finally approached the ‘Toon-Town’ section of W.B.C. “Just through here.” And he pressed open the door.

Inside the door was a world that was exactly like the ‘Toon Town’ from ‘Who framed Rodger Rabbit’ but without the Disney characters.

Marvin led Bugs, Pepe and Penelope through Toon Town until they reached Foghorn Leghorn’s barn.

“Look, I say, look who came back!”

Bugs’s grin threatened to split his face as he saw the rooster heading towards him, arms outstretched in welcome.

“Foghorn!” The rabbit leapt on his younger brother and hugged him tightly. “Oh, I thought you was a gonner!”

“It, I say, it takes more than some computer to get rid of me.” Foghorn said, proudly. “I always come back!”

“Of course.” Dawg’s [AKA George.P.Dog’s] dry voice said, from about two foot away. “It ‘elps that your ‘random location’ was here and not - say - Game Of Thrones.”

Foghorn put Bugs down and said - as an aside. “That, I say, that’s a shout out, readers.”

“I think they got that, Foggy.” Dawg said, rolling his eyes.

It was at this point that Penelope interrupted, asking if Foghorn had just been transported to W.B.C or if anything else had happened.

“No, I just, I say, I just woke up here.”

“Woke up?” Bugs echoed.

Foghorn looked a bit sheepish and looked at Barnyawd.

George explained that 5 and a half months ago Foghorn had just literally dropped out of the sky and onto Dawg’s head. “Once I got da fat lump off of me, I saw he was unconscious and not funny unconscious-” Dawg clarified. “But actually unconscious. He was like dat for about a day or two before he woke up ag’in-” Dawg took a sharp breath as the memory hit him. He steadied himself and then continued with. “-And when he woke up he told us all what had happened. By that point though we knew something bad was going on because not only had this happened-” Here George indicated the dark surroundings. “But a few of us toons had tried to get through to the Human World and couldn’t. All it took was Marvin then double-checking the trackers he’s put on us-”

“-Yeah, cahn we go back to dat at some point?” Bugs asked.

“-An’ he saw the different worlds our family’s been split up into and then when Foggy woke up he confirmed the entire thing.” Dawg sighed and ran his hands over his face. “It’s been a nightmare worrying about them all dis time, because we’ve had no idea where they are or what they’re doing or if they’re bein tor-”

“Yeah, Oi did that spiel back in chapter 2.” Bugs said impatiently. “Right. Oi think oi get it now. Let’s go, Martian-” Bugs grabbed Marvin's arm and pulled him away. “We got a family ta save!”

“Wait, oh wait!” Bugs and Marvin skidded to a halt to see Junior [Sylvester's son] running towards them.

“Eh...what’s up kid?” The rabbit asked, getting down to Juniors level.

Junior stopped sharply - accidently kicking a cloud of dust into the two toons faces - and, with one arm dramatically flung across his face, said. “Oh, Uncle Bugs, I know you have a lot of toons to get, but may I PLEASE request you start with my father? He is silly and often doesn’t think things through, but he’s my father and I love him so. May I please request you start with him and bring him back? I miss him.” At the end of Junior’s spiel, Bugs burst into noisy sobs and, getting a large handkerchief out of his pocket, wiped his eyes with it before wringing it out into a random bucket.

“Of couirse I will.” he promised. “Jus’ watch me. Oi’ll aim to have him back as soon as possible. Now-” Bugs stood up and signalled to Marvin. “-Let’s go, short-stack.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Now we wish to make this simple.” Marvin said, as he Bugs, Pepe and Penelope entered the spaceship. “So, if I just pull up a list-” He did so. “The trackers I put on you all will enable me to see exactly where you all are at any given moment.”

“Yeah, can we go back to dose trackers at some point?” Bugs asked.

Ignoring him, Marvin continued. "So, as you can see, Sylvester is here." He pointed to 'Cartoon Network World'. "I'll just see if there's anyone with him. Bear with." A few moments of typing later and the trackers for Tweety, Yosemite Sam and Taz lit up. Marvin's eyes went wide and typed again. The screen zeroed in on Cartoon Network planet, showing a breakdown of the different sections of it. "Okay." Marvin said, slowly. "That is interesting. Sylvester and Tweety are both in Coolsville, AKA 'Scooby-Doo World' and it seems like there in the 1960's universe."

"Eh...it would hav' ta be Coolsville." Bugs muttered. "What wiv it's population of crazy crooks an' all."

"You just need to change into Chungus and then we can go." Marvin said, pointedly.

Bugs slapped his forehead. "Oops, I forgot!" He transformed into Big Chungus and gave Marvin a thumbs up.

Nodding the Martian pressed the 'arrive as close to as possible' button and the spaceship faded away.

#Space Jam 2 #Across The Serververse #Space Jam 2 Fanfiction #Next update will be next week #Bugs Bunny #Pepe Le Pew #penelope pussycat #marvin the martian #sylvester junior #Sylvester #Foghorn Leghorn #barnyawd dawg #barnyard dawg

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girls-in-bikiniiss · 3 years

Text

Tucked

You down your drink once more, kissing the ice as it clinks against the short glass. You just got dumped by a pro hero—aka your high school sweetheart. You never made it pro, but you knew how to run a damn good agency. You met him after running into him after UA's school festival. He was bandaged up after being seen by the nurse. You remember turning the corner and both of you colliding into each other. After that, it was history. Even though the two of you were in separate classes, you were inseparable. It was like that until your third year and then he grew distant. His need to become the best hero overriding his love for you. You stayed with him, supporting him and accepting not being his number one anymore, but his happiness was too important. You never expected your downfall two more years down the road. Now here you are, twenty years old and sipping bourbon in a dimly lit bar, mascara smudged under your eyes from a fresh breakup.

~Earlier that day~ >Girl, you need to get back out there! He's trash!

You loved your best friend, you really did, but you knew she didn’t like how your ex had been treating you for the past two years. She was in your class and saw your entire relationship blossom.

>But I still love him...

>You're in love with a wannabe. He's not even a hero.

>He has an agency.

>mhm...

>Look, the best way to get over someone is to get under a new one. Who knows, maybe he'll hear about it and get jealous~

>I don't think that's a good idea -.-

>Look...I didn't want to tell you, but I heard he's been flirting with this hero at his agency (◞‸◟) >I'm telling you. Go get dressed up, go to a bar, and find someone mysterious and sexy.

You stopped responding to your friend and cradled your head in your hands. He's been flirting with someone else?? You wiped a tear away and made up your mind. Now you're sitting at the bar in a tight black dress feeling completely foolish for listening to your friend.

Until a man came and sat next to you at the crowed bar.

Wearing a leather trench coat, a tall and lanky man walked in, ordering a glass of whiskey. You watch him here and there, how he picks up his glass oh-so-carefully with four fingers, his pinky out. How refined.

"Will you need a refill, miss?" The bartender asked. You nod and look at the news on the silent TV behind the counter. HIS face appeared on the screen in an interview and you groan. "Stupid super hero..." you mumble to yourself, earning a snicker from the man next to you.

"That sounded like disdain to me." His voice was raspy yet full of intrigue.

"That 'hero' is my ex boyfriend." Bitterness dripped between your teeth as you took another sip of your drink.

A flash of disgust showed through a quick sneer on the man's face.

"Tell me about it." You sigh, continuing on, "Who, just dumped me, mind you. Broke my heart without blinking." You look back to the TV, barely a murmur, "Instead of taking care of society all the time, why didn't you take care of those who loved you?"

"Yes, why don't hero's protect the ones they love over society?" The man mused. "In fact, why do heroes get to use their quirks and violence for the 'greater good' of society? Who determines that?"

You took a sip, listening to his nihilistic speech. "We once lived without superheroes on the streets. Superheroes have just created broken families, whether the realize it or not. But do they get reprimanded? No! They're praised by the same SHEEP who get broken apart."

You felt a nerve hit. You always hoped for a family with your ex, yet his desire to be the best superhero broke that dream apart. You felt this man's anger. "You know? I feel that." You slurred your words with pain emerging. "Why does society rely on heroes so much? Like, to the point where they wouldn't know what to do without them. We used to live without heroes. We used to not have quirks. I hate how much we rely on them. They can't even have their own family and be there for them. That stupid hero," you pointed at the screen, "just broke my idea of family apart because he wanted to get ahead in his career. How messed up is that? Being forced to choose between love or a career?"

"Stupid girl," he muttered, not reaching your ears, "He wasn't forced. He decided to have his ego stroked by fans. That's the issue on hand."

You took a look at the man next to you. Blue hair, ruby eyes, the cutest mole by his lip. He had bags under his eyes, but so did you from all the crying. You had never met someone so outspoken about their disdain of the superhero society. It was refreshing.

The best way to get over a man is to get under one, right?

"The name is Y/N Y/L/N." You offered your glass to clink against his.

"...Tenko."

The evening grew late while you and Tenko slandered the hero's name. "I haven't laughed this hard in a long time. Thank you. I really needed this." The liquid courage had run its course through your body and you were starting to sober up, but still feeling the effects. Tenko gave you a grin. He always loved meeting people scorned by heroes, their rose colored glasses fallen off. It made it that much easier to destroy the faith in a hero's society.

"I should get going. Oh shoot. I don't have money for a cab." You muttered to yourself as you rummaged your purse.

"Let me walk you home."

You looked at his face, scanning for anything sinister, but he seemed genuine. You nodded and paid the tab. You steadied yourself as you stood, only to have your eyes meet his collar bone.

This man was tall. You look up to see him smugly looking down at you, aware of the height difference. Yet his politeness charmed you to feel safe.

Out on the street your heels clicked against the asphalt, Tenko walking next to you quietly. "I appreciate you walking me home. I know I shouldn't have drank that much tonight; especially when I went alone. I didn't think about the walk home. Who knows what lurks in the shadows?" You rub the back of your neck.

Tenko chuckled while looking at his red high tops as he walked. Hands shoved in his pockets, he looked as if he could melt into the shadows himself. In fact, if you had not met him earlier, and saw him walking toward you, you were sure you'd feel frightened. But somehow, walking with him you felt safe, like no one was going to come up and mess with you.

You reached the door of your apartment and turned to him. "Well, home sweet home..." The best way to get over someone was by getting under a new one. Your friend's words rang in your head. "Would you like to come in? Maybe for one more drink?" Tenko looked at the building and then to the door, reading the number and smiled. "You have a nice night, Y/N." You shrug your shoulders and bid the handsome man goodnight.

You change out of your dress into the short nightgown and wash your face. Flipping the duvet over, you crawl into bed and get comfortable to scroll through your phone. A knock echos through your apartment. Who could that be? A mental image of your ex pops into your head but you do your best to waft that bubble cloud away. Getting out of bed you open the door a crack to see the blue haired man. "Tenko?" You opened the door wider. "On second thought, I'll take that drink."

A dark shade of lust covered his ruby eyes as he walked through the door, pushing you back. As if stalking his prey, Tenko neared you slowly all the way across the room. You felt your calf hit the back of your bed and you had to catch yourself before falling. A smirk reached his lips, looking like flustering you was exactly what he wanted.

His figure towered over you, reaching down to brush delicate fingers across your cheek. His hair covering his eyes as he dipped down to break your personal space. A tight knot in your stomach formed as he neared, his warm breath made your eyes flutter as his lips grazed your cheek. He ran a finger up and down your arm, his other arm beginning to snake around your waist, pulling you closer.

"Could your hero boyfriend make you feel like this?" he whispered in your ear.

A gasp reached your lips, and as soon as he heard it, he pushed you down against the white comforter on your bed, kissing your neck down to your shoulder.

You heard your phone ping, breaking you out of the trance. Looking to your phone on your pillow and back, Tenko had vanished. Confusion washed over your foggy mind.

He wasn't there.

A frustrated sigh steamed out and you buried your face in your pillow. At least you could keep this tucked away inside the back of your head.

#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tenko #bnha #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki thirst #shigaraki fanfiction #tenko shimura

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the-mad-starker · 3 years

Text

VenStarker Fic: Wires Crossed

For the Venom-X-Change-2020 event on AO3. This fic was written for @zsparz 💗

Length: 7292

Summary: Peter was hopelessly in love with a Tony Stark who kept him at arm's length. The reasons why are not what he expected at all.

Notes: canon divergence (venom symbiote bonded with Tony), tentacles, love confessions, idiots in love, first time, rimming, anal sex, size kink, lots and lots of tentacles

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There was always something different about Tony Stark. Peter knew it. The rest of the world knew it. It was his genius, his cleverness… a million and one qualities that just set him apart from the rest.

It was a fact that was harmless enough but to Peter, it took a whole other meaning when they met. The shortness of his breath rivaled the sheer excitement he felt upon seeing the older man sitting there, that familiar but foreign smirk on his face.

"Mr. Stark–" One step forward and Peter's spidey senses shot through his body in a flood of dangerdangerdanger. His knees went weak but one sticky hand on the wall kept him from buckling.

"You okay, Mr. Parker?" Mr. Stark accessed him, eyes roaming, while May's eyebrows shot up.

"Yeah, I'm– I'm alright," Peter stuttered as he fought to get his screaming senses to calm down. "Just really… Hungry. I haven't eaten since breakfast. Skipped lunch cause– you know."

It was a weak excuse but they were strangers so he didn't expect Stark to really question it.

Mr. Stark didn't buy it and something flickered in his eyes… Concern? The older man stood and May followed, worried.

He needed to get himself under control. He was still relatively new to his superpowers so– what the fuck.

Suddenly, Peter could breathe again. As suddenly as it had come, his spidey senses went silent as though nothing was wrong. Was it a fluke? He still wasn't used to all the weird things his body was going through. Doubt and uncertainty was a familiar feeling as he filed away the anomaly for another time.

A gentle but firm hand landed on his shoulder and his heart jumped, startling him back to his meeting with his favorite hero.

Their eyes met and the telltale signs of Peter's silly crush became evident. Heart pounding, breath shallow, and warmth infused in his cheeks. Looking into those sharp brown eyes, Peter felt… dazed?

"How about we talk in your room, Mr. Parker?" Mr. Stark suggested.

"I'll get dinner started," May offered, "If you want to join us, Mr. Stark?"

The older man gave a warm smile but shook his head. "I don't want to intrude and I'm sure you guys will have a lot to talk about after I leave."

May looked relieved but Peter knew it was only because she felt pressured to cook a decent dinner if Mr. Stark was staying.

"Mr. Parker," Mr. Stark encouraged him with a squeeze of his fingers, "if you'll lead the way."

"Congratulations on the internship, Pete," May added as he and Mr. Stark walked to his room.

Internship?

Peter didn't say a thing and he didn't need to because as soon as the door closed, Mr. Stark spoke.

"So, Spider-Man, what happened out there?"

Peter looked at him, wide-eyed and ready to deny it. It was futile, of course. Tony got him to confess his identity as Spider-man but as he watched the older man drive off, he didn't think it went too badly.

What Peter hoped to happen and what actually happened are two different things.

Maybe it was his silly crush on the older man, but when Tony Stark personally came to recruit him, he thought they'd actually spend time together. Not that they didn't spend time together but it was so much less than he wanted.

Not to mention that there was this thing that Tony did. It was a thing Peter hated and wanted so desperately to break through but he just didn't know how.

Tony kept him at arm's length. They spent a god-awful amount of time in the lab together and yeah, there were moments where he felt like they really connected but then Tony would reset the next day.

Peter was just his official intern. Kept at a distance. Tony wasn't so formal that he didn't joke or put on any airs but there was this barrier that meant their friendship could only go so far. He was polite in a Tony kind of way but he never took that next step that would deepen whatever it was between them.

At first, Peter was so sure that it was because his crush on the older man was that embarrassingly obvious. Why else would Tony act the way he did? And the thought plagued the younger man because he tried to be professional while being friendly but things just seemed so tangled and impossible.

Maybe, he just needed a chance, he had thought to himself. So he tried and his fumbled attempts at flirting seemed to make the other man smile. But then that thing happened and it was back to square one.

Maybe after some thought… Maybe Tony was uncomfortable with all the attempts Peter made to show his interest? But that was before he had gotten the hint that Tony wasn't interested… Maybe Peter was flirting without meaning to?

They just got along so well that these teasing little banters would start between them and Peter could swear that the older man was interested. But what did he know? He wasn't experienced in that kind of thing and as much as he wanted to rectify that, his heart was set on Tony.

Peter sighed as he entered his bedroom. His bag, filled to the brim with notebooks and books, was tossed carelessly to the side. He was ready to clock out and take a nice little nap until he went on patrol later in the evening.

His eyes were already drooping closed when his phone buzzed with an incoming message. He checked it more out of habit than actual desire.

Come over.

Peter's eyes shot open.

The message was from Mr. Stark and like many of his previous messages, they didn't really give him any more info beyond that. And he knew from prior experience that shooting off a "what's up?" Or "??" wouldn't get him an answer either.

If Peter was busy, he wouldn't go. Tony probably just assumed that was the case during the times his mentee didn't pop up. More often than not, Peter was able to make it though.

This time… He didn't even have to think about it. His fatigue evaporated, mind and body invigorated by the thought of spending some time with Tony.

Maybe it was a little sad that he was so eager for the older man's company but he couldn't help being opportunistic. To feel better about it, Peter took a few minutes to shower and change into something more comfortable.

From Queens to the city, the time passed quickly. It only felt like a couple of minutes had passed by the time he was in the elevator and FRIDAY was directing him to Tony's experimental labs.

When the doors opened, he knew something was wrong. First off, Tony's favorite brand of music wasn't being blasted off the speakers. It was quiet enough that Peter could hear his steps as he walked further into the labs.

But then, there was a mounting sense of urgency growing in the pit of his stomach. It was a peculiar sensation, one that confused him because it felt like his spider senses were trying to warn him but… why would it do that here?

Peter hurried, making sure to keep his steps light just in case there really was a problem.

Then he caught sight of his mentor. Tony was standing in front of his array of holograms, hands planted firmly on the tabletop and leaning forwards. His head hung loosely between his shoulders with the shadows blurring his eyes.

On the main screen, there was some sort of formula being constructed but Peter barely noticed. That was because his entire attention was on the black fluid-like substance that was steadily seeping from Tony's back.

His breath caught and for a split second, he felt like he was in some sort of horror show. Peter could only watch as more and more of that inky darkness flowed over his mentor's trembling body.

He would've rushed to his side but then his ears caught these sounds that Tony was making– Oh, God… Those weren't the kinda sounds someone would make if they were in pain. That sounded like– His ears turned red, heat mixing in with adrenaline as he stared and stared.

It was… hypnotic. It should've been frightening because what the fuck was that but… Detached from that sense of horror, what he was seeing was almost beautiful. The darkness spilled out, gleaming and reflecting light as it arched all around his mentor. It looked like it was forming a protective cocoon that, strangely enough, gave the impression of possessiveness.

The thing that made Peter take action though was that there was too much of it. It seemed like an endless supply of black kept seeping out of Tony's body and it was simply engulfing him.

No matter how beautiful it looked, Peter couldn't help gasping out his name.

"Mr. Stark…!"

Tony's head jerked towards him, surprised. The brown of his eyes were thin discs, pupils dilated.

All at once, that black cloud rushed back inside the older man as though being sucked in by a vortex. It happened so quickly, surprising the both of them that Peter barely had time to react when Tony dropped to his knees.

Peter was by his side in an instant, eyes rushing over his mentor's body to find any injuries, any anomalies. All the while, his brain was trying to make sense of what the fuck just happened.

"Kid…" Tony mumbled. He was crouched, one knee pressed to his chest and his head tipped down. There was sweat on his brow and his shoulder felt hot beneath Peter's palm.

"Are you okay, sir?" Peter asked. His voice sounded high-pitched to his own ears, just short of panic. "Wha–What was that?"

Tony looked up and there was a glassy sheen to his eyes. Combined with the fever, Peter came to a quick conclusion.

"Were you drugged, Mr. Stark?" He asked, trying to see what other damage had been done. "Should I call 9-1-1? Friday?"

"Kid– Peter," Tony tried to get his attention. Some of the fogginess seemed to recede but it still wasn't enough for Peter. "I know what it was."

Their contrasting reactions to the situation were just so bizarre that Peter was finding it hard to rationalize. But Tony had been an Avenger and a hero much longer than Peter so maybe dealing with stuff like this was just so typical.

"What was it?" Peter asked, trying to stay on track.

"I was working on something and the stupid thing– Ugh, simply put, I got what essentially amounts to sex pollen into my system and–"

Peter's brain came to a screeching halt. Aphrodisiacs, he knew about those but the term sex pollen seemed to be more intense.

Still, he had to ask.

"Like an… aphrodisiac or something?" Peter hedged cautiously.

Tony grimaced. "Probably worse but nothing I can't handle."

It was only then that Peter noticed Tony's pants were undone. His crouched over position, it seemed, was deliberate in that it hid the state of his undress and more likely than not, any state of arousal the older man was in.

Heat crawled up his neck, no doubt turning his cheeks bright red. It also didn't help that some of that blood flow was directed further south.

His eyes skittered away despite wanting to affirm if Tony was hard. Peter, himself, hunched over a little, hoping to hide his own responding state.

Peter knew that the best thing to do was to retreat but some part of him didn't want to. This thing could be something they laugh about in the future or something they completely bury in the past and never talk about. Or it could be the thing he needed to get Tony to really see him.

Besides, he still had so many questions… He just shouldn't be getting hard when something was obviously off in this situation.

"And that thing that was all over you… Was that something with the um, aphrodisiac?"

He knew he shouldn't be getting hard and yet… Peter couldn't get the sight out of his mind and his mind puzzled over it, maybe even obsessed over it.

It was like a void had taken on a physical form but it had also looked fluid in some parts. In others, the thing had looked like it was solid. What really stuck in his mind was how sensual the whole thing appeared but maybe it was his perception of Tony that was to blame, not the way some weird liquid solid moved.

Tony's grimace only deepened and Peter felt bad for putting him on the spot when he was in such a precarious situation. But he knew… He knew that Tony would brush it off if he left now. He would reset and push Peter away.

Peter didn't want that so he clung to the situation.

"That… that was something else, Pete," Tony said hesitatingly.

Were they at a stalemate? Tony could've gotten up at any moment but he just stayed there, as did Peter. At this moment, were they both…?

"I'll explain another time, but right now..." Tony cleared his throat, "I got some things to take care of. If you don't mind."

Peter looked away but forced himself to turn back to his mentor.

"Why did you text me if you were busy, sir?" Peter asked. Then he licked his lips, boldly pushing forward, "Does it hurt or something? Is there anything I can… do to help?"

He was sure that his face was a nice cherry red color. But… He put it out there. Never had Peter so plainly offered himself. He held his breath, hoping wildly that Tony would…

"Text? I didn't..." Tony trailed off, frowning to himself.

There was a moment of silence where Tony was just looking at him and then he squinted. Kept looking at Peter then at the cell phone on his table then at his hands. Silent microexpressions that hinted at what was going through his mind but not outright giving it away.

Peter fumbled with his own phone for proof, tapping the screen and showing the message.

Tony's eyes narrowed.

"Traitor," Peter heard him mutter, Peter heard him mutter, out of the blue.

Tony then sighed and moved into a sitting position with a groan. Peter wished that he could say he didn't look but he did.

A quick little glance confirmed that Tony was still hard. Peter swallowed the sudden influx of spit in his mouth, feeling hot and bothered.

"Ah-hem," Tony coughed, hiding a smirk behind his hand. He did arch a brow, "I got some weird alien pollen going on, what's your excuse?"

Peter squeaked in alarm, knowing he was caught off guard. He tried to play it cool anyway and subtly moved the corner of his hoodie over the obvious bulge where he was getting hard.

"I've had a crush on you since... forever?" he admitted, unable to look Tony in the eye.

"You… You did or you… have…?" Tony asked curiously, cautiously.

Peter peeked at him, eyebrows raised. He thought his feelings were extremely obvious.

"Have."

He had the pleasure of Tony's mouth dropping into a little 'O'.

"Well… damn," the older man exhaled, laughing slightly.

They sat there for a moment longer, both a bit amused at the situation. It seemed so silly that Tony didn't know… Even so, Peter frowned at the lack of answers he was getting.

Hesitatingly, he reached over and squeezed the other man's knee.

"I really do wanna help you, Mr. Stark…" he said plainly, holding the older man's gaze, "and that thing… I wanna know what that thing was… You're obviously okay but..."

Peter continued to lock gazes with him, determined to show his mentor how serious he was.

Tony seemed to be internally conflicted, probably monologuing with himself as he tended to do. Peter, with his best puppy eyes, awaited his answer.

The older man muttered something under his breath before he finally seemed to give in.

"Only a few people know this," Tony started then seemed to backtrack when he said, "You know how I escaped the Ten Rings back in Afghanistan?"

He did. It had been all over the news and later on, when Iron man made its debut, the pieces had been put together on how Tony escaped. He'd never heard it from Tony's point of view though.

Peter nodded, leaning forward and so curious. "Yeah, it was the first Iron man prototype you created. It got you out."

Tony nodded, then a bit more solemnly, he confessed, "The thing that wasn't published was that I… kind of blew myself up. The armor was made of pieces of scrap metal, never before tested, all just theory and aspirations. Anything was better than staying there... So I got out. And I blew myself up in the process."

This was all new information for Peter. It was a hard fact to process… He couldn't imagine a world where instead of watching the news of Tony's return, it would've been a funeral. His blood chilled at the very thought of it.

Tony cleared his throat, no doubt sensing Peter's upset. "I ended up in the hospital, actually. In this little town that Rhodey took me to. They would've flown me to one of the bigger ones but I wasn't supposed to make it from the get-go. My chances of survival were… abysmal."

He lifted a hand, palm facing upwards. A dark plum of fluid spilled out, liquidy and swirling around itself. Even in this tiny form, it was fascinating and hypnotic to watch.

Peter's mind stumbled over itself trying to figure out what it was. Some sort of secret tech? He wouldn't put it past Tony to create something but even this was beyond the impressive display of nanotech his mentor created.

"It's a parasite," Tony explained calmly.

Peter inhaled sharply. "Para–"

Then the thing came alive. It swirled larger, seemingly gathering more of itself out of nowhere. It whirled together like an angry hornet's nest. Not only did it become larger but it grew eyes and a large cavernous mouth followed with tiny razor-sharp teeth.

"Parasite!?" It hissed, voice guttural and offended. Peter's mouth dropped open as the thing swirled to face Tony, flashing menacing teeth. "We are not a parasite."

His mentor was entirely unphased and what was even more confusing was the fond, almost chagrined expression on his face.

"Yes, sweet pea, it's just the scientific term," Tony said as he leaned down and kissed the top of what should be the creature's head. "Okay, fine. A symbiote."

The creature didn't seem placated but it did shrink, the mouth disappearing so only large white sinister eyes peered at them.

"We are Venom," the creature rumbled and Tony smiled, affection shining through.

"This little guy is part of an alien race called the Klyntar," Tony told him. "And sweet pea found me after the blowing up. Saved me, actually… And we've been together since."

The creature didn't confirm or deny but somehow Peter could tell that it was pleased. He wasn't even sure how he made that deduction but the… body? seemed to have settled into a lazy spiral as it swirled around itself.

"This human… intends to mate," the symbiote purred, staring at him with that strange alien gaze. Peter's eyes grew wide.

"It's a fear boner!" he blurted out.

The symbiote swirled towards Tony, almost vibrating with curiosity.

"Yeah, go ahead and search for it," Tony told the creature with a chuckle.

"Ah," the symbiote murmured knowingly after a moment.

Tony lowered his hand but instead of the symbiote retreating into his body, it traveled up his arm and settled comfortably on his shoulder. Like this, it reminded Peter of a cat for some reason.

"The reason why I told you isn't because I need your help," Tony admitted while absently petting the inky void on his shoulder. "Well, not with sweet pea and not with the, ah, sex pollen."

"Tony will need help," the symbiote disagreed, displeased.

"I will not–" Tony refuted, attention switching to the creature.

The pieces clicked into place. What Peter witnessed when he first came in… the way Tony was trembling while that massive inky cloud of blackness surrounded him.

"Was Venom helping you?" Peter dared to ask.

Tony fell silent, debating whether or not to answer. That was answer enough to Peter. He sat there, mindblown, as he digested the implications. Tony and this… creature?

"The symbiote and I have been in a state of symbiosis for… years now," Tony said softly, almost lovingly. "Sweet pea and I… We're like one entity. They can't be separated from me and I can't let them go."

The creature hummed in delight.

"We are one…" it agreed softly.

To Peter, it felt like the world was about to shatter in front of him. He didn't think he'd ever have a chance but of course, finding out would always make it hurt even more. But to find out that some alien creature– Wait.

"Then the… Text? Why did you send it when you're in this state?" Peter demanded. There was a thread of hope there but his face remained neutral.

Now it was Tony's turn to become flustered.

"We have dreams," the symbiote answered instead of Tony. "Dreams of… You. Of the spiderling."

"...Traitor," Tony muttered again. "Sometimes, my other half likes to do things when I'm not looking."

The last part was said with a pointed glare at the creature but Peter could tell there wasn't any heat in it.

"So the… alien para–" the symbiote perked up, ready to hiss when Peter remembered and amended his words, "the symbiote sent the text because you… you want me, sir? Is that right…?"

Tony was definitely flustered but he nodded firmly then clasped Peter's wrist. "But I can't have you. Not when we're like this. We're– We won't separate, Pete. It's why I've never allowed myself to… Not with anyone since Afghanistan."

Peter took a deep breath. He kept looking at Tony's hand on his wrist and thought about it. It took a tremendous amount of trust for Tony to tell him. Even if the symbiote was the one to push for this encounter… Peter didn't think that Tony was entirely unaware of what his other half wanted to do.

As he organized his thoughts, a swirl of black seemed to creep towards Tony's fingers. It… fascinated him. This was an alien creature? He found that once he accepted the revelation, it wasn't that hard to picture it. Well, then again, people like Thor and Mr. Loki existed so why not beings like the symbiote?

The symbiote's little tentacle passed Tony's knuckles and skittered to a fingertip. There, it hesitated before a thinner piece swept past and touched Peter's knuckle. It was so feather-light that Peter wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't watching. It was more like a caress, a soft touch that was just exploring.

Tony and this symbiote were one entity, they both confirmed. And they shared dreams. Did they share desire too?

Peter peered at them, heart pounding as he made a decision.

"I still want to help," Peter said softly, "and… I want more than that."

Tony seemed surprised by his answer but the symbiote swirled around his ear, hissing in amusement.

"Told you so," it teased.

Tony definitely needed help with the sex pollen. It started off mild enough but the symbiote explained it'd only get worse. Peter didn't want it to get worse so they got started.

It was awkward at first and as much as Peter had fantasies of getting fucked in the lab, Tony wanted a bed. His mentor said it because he was an old man but the symbiote seemed to think it was another reason.

Peter was more than happy to follow them to bed, even if he was a little apprehensive. But it was his first time, so that was easily explained. Add to the fact that he was technically having a threesome for his first time…

It was nerve-wracking and yet… When they fell into bed together, it became so easy. Tony's arms circled around him, pulling him close to a firm human body. That was normal. And Tony's lips were so soft… So soft and so hungry as he kissed Peter gently with ever growing fervor.

It was intense and perfect, their mouths slanting together, barely parting except when a moan refused to be contained. It was all perfectly normal as far as Peter could tell. He was so caught up in Tony, in the feel of his mouth, his beard scratching pleasantly against his skin… His roaming hands… It was a dream come true to Peter and he embraced it fully. But then, he started to notice other things.

Soft subtle things like Tony reacting to something other than himself. It didn't make him jealous though. In fact, it turned him on to see Tony's expression start to cloud over with pleasure.

The symbiote was making its move and directing its attention to Tony. It was expected but after a while, Peter became… curious.

So it wasn't by accident that when he encountered one of the symbiote's limbs, Peter didn't pull away. It was curled around Tony's hip and Peter explored cautiously.

It was long and solid but the girth of the limb would be thick in one part then taper off into a thinner point only to grow thicker if it joined another section. It moved sinuously and it… it reminded him of tentacles… Peter caressed it as it had done to him when they were talking. The creature seemed to understand and didn't shy away from him.

If anything, it seemed eager enough to touch him back, curling around his wrist and directly his hand to Tony's firm ass. A slight pressure had Peter squeezing and the symbiote purred, pleased. It then traveled up his wrist and then his arm, a warm sort of weight that excited Peter.

From there, the symbiote fully joined them and became an ever-present force. It was attached to Tony for sure, tentatively spilling outside of the older man's body and boldly, shameless, exploring both of their bodies.

Peter could tell it was very familiar with Tony's. It was more careful with him. More tentative but so very curious.

He felt every tendril of inky blackness as it slid around them. He felt it brush against his chest, Tony gasping against his mouth as the symbiote teased his nipples.

"Mm…" Peter watched Tony's mouth drop open, pleasure contorting his features. A tentacle caressed his face, urging the older man to kiss Peter once again.

He moaned into it and shivered when he felt the tendril slide down his neck.

"Ah…" Peter ended up beneath the older man, starting up at him with hooded eyes and a bruised mouth.

"Beautiful…"

Host and symbiote had murmured the same word, sharing the same thoughts while Peter panted up at them.

Tony kissed him again and he arched into it, whimpering when something wrapped around his erection. It wasn't a human hand, but as Peter's hips jerked into the touch, he found that he could care less. It felt warm and tight and perfect.

"Tony…" Peter whined. Was this how it felt for Tony when the symbiote touched him?

"It's okay…" the older man murmured against his mouth. "Anything you don't like, tell us…"

His hips bucked into the tight grip and his entire body spasmed as the symbiote rippled around his erection, squeezing gently and massaging his cock like a living fleshlight.

"It's good…" Peter hissed, "so good, sir… Mmm… Want you to touch me too, please…"

Tony groaned, captivated, breath exhaled in a soft sigh. "Oh, sweetheart, you're a treasure…"

Tony took his request and his hands roamed all over Peter's body, learning all the spots that made him shiver and squirm in their hold. And if he felt the symbiote mimicking Tony's touches, Peter didn't protest. He was far from protesting.

"How far do you wanna go," Tony murmured against his jaw.

He was sucking love bites onto Peter's skin, playing with his healing factor and doing it harder and harder until Peter cried out. It was a miracle that Peter could even process what he was saying.

"We can do it like this… Just running against each other… Making you feel good makes us feel good…"

Peter looked at him through the slits of his eyes. He licked his sore lips and pressed eagerly into the older man's touch. Tony's cock against his hip felt so hot and ready.

"Anything," Peter answered then amended, "everything…"

"Hmm…" Tony's response was a hum of consideration.

There was some hesitation in that one note though and it was something Peter wanted to eradicate. If Tony and the symbiote were one person, he wanted them and everything they could give him. He was so sure of this, of Tony. Of Tony and the symbiote.

"There's more," Tony admitted softly as though doing so would scare him away.

"I want more…" Peter almost begged.

Tony's eyes were so dark. He felt like he should be able to see the symbiote lurking there but he saw nothing. Feeling though… He could feel the symbiote now, feel the way it watched him through Tony's eyes.

Peter shivered and spoke to them both. "I want more… I want both of you. I want… Venom."

The answer seemed to be the right one. The hunger in Tony's eyes grew and he took in Peter's trembling body.

"Turn around…" It was said so softly that Peter would've missed it if not for his spider enhanced hearing.

He did so eagerly and when he felt Tony's hands on his waist, he almost melted into the bed. Instead, Tony kept his hips up in the position he wanted while Peter buried his face into the pillows.

Admittedly, Peter had never felt so exposed as he did right then. Tony and the symbiote could see everything, from his cock bobbing in the air between his trembling thighs to the tiny untouched hole between his cheeks.

"Mr. Stark…" he moaned when he felt Tony spread him open.

"We want a taste, Pete," Tony said, breath fanning over his sensitive hole. "Can we…? Wanna taste you on our tongue... Make you fall apart all around us..."

Oh, God…

"Yes, yes…" Peter babbled. "Do it, sir, do it–"

His words trailed off into incoherent squeaks and moans when they began. A wet, agile tongue licked him there and it was the most surreal experience Peter had ever had.

His breath came in shuttered gasps and his palms curled into fists. One pressed against his mouth as though it was possible to stop the dirty little moans he made from escaping.

The older man's tongue swirled around his hole, teasing and licking. Slurping. All these obscene sloppy noises assaulted his ears as Tony made quick work out of him, reducing him into a babbling, moaning mess.

And just when he forgot about the symbiote, it reminded him. While Tony started tongue fucking him, a wet tendril wound itself back around his cock and two smaller ones attached themselves to his nipples.

He whined when he felt them somehow suck on them, like small little mouths teasing every bit of pleasure they can get out of him.

Peter whimpered when Tony pulled away. The tentacles didn't stop though and he squirmed, hips swaying as the symbiote continued, sucking his nipples, pinching them, stroking his cock...

"Get ready, baby, this is gonna be… something," Tony warned.

Peter barely caught a glimpse of him over his shoulder but what he saw… Maybe any sane person would've been terrified but all Peter saw was Tony. It was a different kind of Tony that was melding with the symbiote but nevertheless, he was still Tony.

He didn't know what Tony was talking about but he trusted him.

The next time he felt Tony's tongue, he did go boneless against the bed. Tony licked him gently, his tongue teasing the sensitive muscle.

"Give it to me…" Peter whispered.

A tendril caressed his cheek and he nuzzled against it. Tony had said pleasuring Peter gave them pleasure. Did that mean they shared pleasure just as they did thoughts and body…?

It was a curious thought, one that was blasted away when Tony pushed his tongue back inside. With some repetition, Peter thought he could get used to the feeling but for now, he tried to stifle a gasp and failed.

Then something changed and– Peter cried out as Tony's tongue grew and elongated, filling up the space in his body and brushing against this sensitive spot inside him. He felt it... Reaching so deep inside him where he didn't think it was possible...

"O-Oh…!" Peter stuttered out in a whine. "Oh, God…!"

Then he remembered how the symbiote's form was fluid-like and seemed to expand and shrink at its desire. He did a full-body shiver with the realization that Tony was doing that to him… Tongue fucking him along with the symbiote.

He was truly a mess now. Tears leaked from the corner of his eyes as that long, fleshy tongue played with his sweet spot.

He had asked for more and he was getting it…

"M-Mister… Starkk…!" He moaned, incoherent.

The symbiote continued to caress his face with gentle tendrils but Peter, teased beyond his limits, didn't want gentle. Just as Tony was licking and tonguing him, Peter, too, put his mouth to good use.

Pleasure… He wanted to make them feel good, both of them.

He kissed the tentacle closest to his face, curled his arm closer so that it was nudged closer. It jerked at the contact but then eagerly traced along his lips as though asking for permission.

Peter moaned and kissed it again. It slipped into his mouth and even though it wasn't a cock and it didn't have the girth of one, Peter still felt so dirty and lustful taking it in. He sucked it like it was a cock, moaning when he heard Tony cry out in pleasure.

Tony's assault continued and it nearly drove Peter crazy. His tongue was reaching in deep inside him… Then he felt something else nudging against his hole alongside Tony's tongue and it was being gentle by slowly working itself in but it was also thicker… He was being stretched even more and it eased itself in, fucking him gently.

He didn't know if it was more of the symbiote's tentacles or if it was Tony's fingers. He couldn't bear to look… The sight of Tony eating him out while he was being fingerfucked would make him come. And he wanted to last, at least until Tony fucked him.

"Mmm–" His words were muffled around the tentacle in his mouth but as soon as he tried, it withdrew. He was left gasping, mouth open in a drawn-out moan.

"Wait…" he groaned desperately, "m gonna come, M-Mr. Stark…"

"Come then, baby…" Tony encouraged him when he pulled away. "We'll lick you clean..."

Even without his tongue, the other insertion continued to pump in and out of him. It was joined by another and another... Slimmer than the first but he still felt it, the way all three moved and pumped in and out of him in varying motions.

Tentacles then…

Peter's head swayed side to side, words escaping him as his hips pushed back in needy little jerks.

"Fuck me…" Peter gasped out. "Please, Mr. Stark… Need it…"

Tony groaned behind him and Peter was almost certain he'd go back to rimming him but then he was hauled up to his knees by a very strong grip. He gasped, shock and pleasure shooting through him like a jolt of thunder.

The hand that gripped his waist was black with the symbiote's flesh and larger than a normal human's.

He felt Tony's cock press between his cheeks, rubbing against his wet hole. He shuddered and wondered if the pollen could transfer… Via spit or other fluids… If it could, he was certain he'd been dosed too. But the reality was, he was just this needy for the older man, this hungry to get fucked by Tony and his symbiote.

Tony shifted a bit and the large, heavy girth of his cock pushed between Peter's soft inner thighs. Tony was more than human in this state, and his cock, like the rest of him, was being supplemented by the symbiote.

"I could fuck you like this… Or I could fuck you as just myself…" Tony murmured, soft and intimate in his ear. He gently led Peter's hand between his legs, let him feel just how much his cock was different when he was like this. It felt… massive and pressed between his thighs, it looked impossible.

And yet, Peter wanted it. He wanted everything Tony could give him. Even with his breathing shallow, his mind balanced on the dangerous edge of fear and excitement, he wanted it.

"Will it fit? It's so big..." Peter asked, breathless. His fingers curled around the fat tip, rubbing along the sensitive undersides.

Tony gave a breathy moan of pleasure before he said, "It'll fit, baby, we'll make it fit…"

Peter took in one last shuttered breath before nodding. "Do it…"

Tony was oh so gentle with him when he finally fucked him. Peter felt the strength restrained in his limbs as he did and knew Tony was being gentle on purpose. It was… Peter's first time, after all.

It was a lot to take in but as Tony promised, they made it work. The rimming had helped and, with a flushed face, Peter could admit that the extra attention the symbiote gave him helped too. Properly prepared, Peter's body still struggled to take him in but they were determined to do it. Inch by inch… Tony carefully pushed into him, breath ragged as he took Peter's first time.

Peter gripped anything within reach which was Tony's arms as he took his first cock. White knuckled, he bore through the sensation of being penetrated and God, he felt so full… He whimpered when he felt the press of Tony's hips against his ass and his head lolled against the older man's chest.

"Taking us so well, sweetheart…" Tony praised into his ear, "every damn inch…. Fuck, baby… We can feel it... Feel you squeezing down on us, ah– You wanna get fucked so badly... So fucking perfect for us..."

He felt the warmth of that praise but all Peter could do was moan, helpless and speared open on their cock.

"Let go, baby," Tony murmured. Peter vaguely noted his voice was rougher and deeper. "We'll take care of you… Make you feel so good..."

Some part of him remembered that he was the one that was supposed to be helping Tony but the words escaped him. With his head against Tony's chest, Peter looked at him with glazed eyes. The face staring back at him was monstrous, gleaming black clinging to Tony's tanned flesh and those teeth... Venom's white pupilless eye on one side and Tony's familiar brown in the other.

Peter came with a strangled cry. The combination of the symbiote stroking him and Tony fucking him was too much. He had waited so long that he was surprised he didn't come earlier.

His release spurted into open air and all over the symbiote's tentacles that had been touching him. More dribbled down his pulsing cock, only to be collected and carried to Tony's lips. Tony kept his promise and licked away every drop.

Even soft, Peter wanted Tony to keep going. He knew he'd be hard in no time.

"Please…" Peter moaned, tipping his face up and hoping for a kiss.

They answered him, leaning down and giving him the kiss he didn't know he was craving. It was wet and savage, Venom's long alien tongue running over his human one. Even then, his lover was careful with his teeth. Peter never once felt the deadly sharp edge of those teeth, just the wet agile glide of their tongue as his eyes slipped closed.

He was fucked gently at first. Every push and pull felt like he was being turned inside out with Venom's alien cock dragging along his soft insides. He was probably ruined for any other, he couldn't imagine sex being anything but this…

His senses were dialed up to a hundred and every caress, every sloppy kiss, every nudge of Venom's cock against his sensitive prostate was just short of overwhelming. The only thing he could do was breathe through it and adapt.

It was a struggle but he was reminded at every turn that this wasn't just a fuck. The gentleness was almost lovemaking and when he finally got used to it… He craved more.

He craved the feeling of Venom/Tony's muscles flexing under his hands, craved the punishing thrusts that he knew his lover was capable of.

Peter worried that the next time he begged for more, he'd be denied. He was never so happy to be wrong.

Once they knew he was capable of taking them, they gave him the more he wanted. Manhandled and practically lifted into the air, each wrist and ankle held firmly by Venom's tentacles, they fucked Peter with careful abandon. He was Spiderman and more than capable of taking a beating but they were Venom and they weren't going to risk hurting him besides bruising up his lips with kisses, his skin with their teeth, and his insides with their cock.

It was more than enough. Tentacles were touching every part of his body, teasing his nipples, rubbing against his cheeks, fucking his mouth, massaging his cock… And smaller but still substantial tentacles pushing in and out of his body, sometimes syncing up with Tony's thrusts and other times moving in contrast to it.

He felt… So… full…

His second orgasm was dragged out of him and by the time the last pulses of cum spurted out of him, he was boneless in Venom/Tony's hold.

"Come…" he murmured against a tentacle teasing his mouth "Inside me, please…"

He felt Tony's body shudder, his chest working hard to draw breath as he chased after his orgasm. Peter's eyes slipped closed, focusing on the way his lover's thrusts went from smooth and precise to short and sloppy.

He let out a soft cry when he felt Tony come inside. A flood of heat warmed his worn body and it came in several loads as Tony groaned, helpless and vulnerable as he filled Peter up.

They were a mess after. Tony's bedsheets were ruined for sure.

Sweaty and exhausted, but feeling beyond sated, Peter murmured, "Okay, now?"

The older man pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips.

"More than," he replied. He carried Peter into a spare bedroom but instead of leaving him there, Tony joined him under the covers. Now that Peter knew about the symbiote, he could feel its presence like a slight tickle in the back of his mind, his spider senses licking something up that wasn't quite human.

Tony's arm, entirely human, wrapped around his waist and dragged him back so they were pressed Peter's back to Tony's front.

"Round two in ten?" Peter teased with a soft hum.

He felt Tony chuckle against his ear, "That can be arranged."

The soft tickle of a tentacle along his neck was all he needed to know the symbiote was in sync with those plans as well.

#starker #madstarker writes #Venstarker #Whatever the ship name is for Starker and venom symbiote #nff #moody mads

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