#this is gonna sound unhealthy but I really wanna lick his arms | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

savemesomenachos · 3 years

Note

Congratulations on 200 followers!!

Can I request a stucky x reader with angst prompts 5&7?

Angsty with a fluffy ending?

Nonnie, why are you doing this to my almost non-existent heart?! And also thank you💋

You can find my other works on my Main Masterlist If you wanna be tagged in my works, lemme know here

Drabble #5

Angst💔:

5. “Maybe you should just leave now.”

7. “Maybe, this is it coz I can’t do this anymore!”

Alternate Universe

AN: My 200 follower celebration event is officially CLOSED!!!

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Warnings: An unhealthy amount of angst and some fluff to help me lick my wounds at the end

Word Count: 1507

Y/n’s POV:

“Are you seriously doing this right now?” I hiss in frustration as I strip out of my gear. Bucky stands behind me and Steve at a careful distance, ready to intervene

“You were so fucking careless out there. Do you have any fucking idea what could have happened?” Steve screams as he looks up from his task of unlacing his boots.

“I’m not some dumb newbie agent Steve. I’ve been doing this for years. It was a calculated fucking risk,” I scream equally loud. I see Bucky visibly flinch at the tone of our rising voices.

“How about we all take a step back huh? Talk about this when we’ve cooled down,” Bucky says, stepping between the both of us with an arm raised in surrender.

“We’re not children Buck. Stop coddling us,” Steve says as he rises to his full height and glares at Bucky.

“Hey! Don’t talk to him that way. Besides, it’s not his fault you are an actual child,” I say as I push Bucky aside with a gentle nudge to the side but he doesn’t budge.

I can see that that particular statement makes Steve particularly mad. His nostrils flare in barely constrained anger and his pupils dilate to completely engulf the blue and darken to look like black holes.

“Maybe you should just leave now,” Steve jeers as his fists continuously clench and unclench at his sides.

“Yeah, maybe I should,” I whisper, my stance not softening for a second.

“Woah, no one’s going anywhere,” says Bucky, ever the mediator. “We’re gonna sit down like adults,” he pointedly glares at the both of us, “and talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to fucking talking about Bucky. I’m not a child and I refuse to be treated like one,” I say, marching to my wardrobe and grabbing a duffel bag.

“Y/n please, we can talk about this. He was just worried about you getting hurt,” Bucky pleads, moving closer to me and laying a comforting arm on my shoulder.

“Fuck no. I just wanted to make sure she doesn’t fuck up the mission with her recklessness,” Steve huffs, taking a seat on the bed.

My jaw tightens in frustration but for Bucky’s sake, I keep my mouth shut. I shovel some clothes in, determined to make a point.

“Shut the fuck up Steve,” Bucky hisses as he turns to look at Steve over his shoulder.

“It’s fine Bucky,” I say, moving around him and toward the door. “But I can’t be around him right now.”

“Good thing I feel the same fucking way,” Steve says from his seat at the foot of the bed.

“Shut the fuck up! Both of you!” Bucky screams, his anger spilling into the room, his voice reverberating in my chest.

“You know what?” He says as his gaze shifts between the both of us. “Maybe this is it coz I can’t do this anymore!”

We gape at Bucky like fish and the breath rushes out of me. Suddenly hearing Bucky say it causes a pit in my stomach.

“I can’t always be the mediator. Left to deal with your fights. I’m fucking tired. If you can’t even go a day without fighting then maybe we shouldn’t be together,” he whispers, his words sitting like a weight on my chest.

Tears form on my eyelashes and I look to Steve for help but he looks equally lost.

“I just…” he sighs, “I just need a break from all the fighting ok? And I can see that you both know I’m right so work this out. I’m going out with Sam.”

“Are we breaking up?” I whisper, my heart thumping in my ears. Steve’s gaze shifts to the floor where I see him biting his lip to hold in his tears, I think.

“You tell me,” Bucky says as he slips out the door quietly leaving the room in an eerie silence.

“Do you hate me?” I hear Steve’s whisper.

I toss my duffel aside and take the seat next to him on the bed, our thighs touching.

“I could never hate you. I just don’t like it when you fuss over me on a mission. It makes me feel incompetent.” I say, my fingers knotting together nervously.

“That was never my intention. What Bucky said was true. I just wanted to protect you Me and him? We’ve seen and done so much shit and I never want you to be a part of that. To have nightmares that never let you sleep,” he says, shifting closer to me, his hand trailing across my thigh, clasping my hand in his.

“Yeah, I know,” I say, our fingers entwining. “But I don’t want you to do that. I wanna protect you too but I don’t wanna get in your way either. You think you could maybe… do the same? Protect me without coddling me?” I ask, tightening my grasp on his hand.

“Yeah, I can,” He says, his warm, dirty hand cupping my cheek.

His thumb strokes my lip as he turns to face me completely. He draws me to my chest with a hand on the back of my head and I lean in without hesitation.

“We fight a lot huh?” he asks, his fingers drawing circles on my partially bare waist.

“I guess,” I say as I sigh against his chest while my fingers play with the buckles on his pant clad thighs.

“I think we really need to work on communicating more,” I say after a beat of silence.

“Yeah, we will. I promise,” he whispers against my cheek as he tips my chin up to his face. I see the blue return and I drown in them.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks as he leans closer to my face while he twirls a piece of my hair around his finger.

“Like you have to ask,” I whisper, a breath away from his plush, pink lips. He closes the distance between us and kisses me.

My fingers tangle in his dirty blonde locks and tug. He moans but I swallow any sound that follows. I straddle his thighs, needing to be closer and he understands. He wraps and arm around my waist and settles me on his lap and both his arms wind around my back.

“Wait,” I pant as I pull away from the kiss which makes Steve whine. “How are we gonna make it up to Bucky?” I ask, getting up from Steve’s lap and pacing the room.

“How about sex?” Steve says casually, leaning back on his elbows.

“Steve! I’m serious.”

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“No! It has to be words,” I say as I stand in front of him and tug on his hands.

He straightens and wraps his arms around my waist while burying his face in my stomach with a hearty chuckle.

“Ok,” he says with a sigh, “we’ll talk to him when he gets back.”

*time skip*

“I see you’ve made up,” I hear Bucky’s voice before I see him. I shoot up from bed where me and Steve lay cuddled and rush to him.

My arms immediately wrap around his broad frame and I bury my face in his firm chest.

“I’m sorry Bucky. We shouldn’t have dragged you into the fight,” I say. “And I shouldn’t have been mean, it was uncalled for,” Steve continues.

“We talked about things and we know we fight a lot and never communicate. But from now on, we promise we will,” I say, pulling away to look at him.

“It’s not fair you always have to be mediator and I’m sorry I upset you,” Steve says as he round the corner of the bed and stands in front of Bucky, his gaze dropped to the floor.

“Yeah, I’m sorry too,” I say, shifting closer to Steve.

“Ok,” Bucky says as he moves deeper into the room. Steve’s head snaps up at his response and we stare at each other, dumbfounded.

“Ok?” I tentatively ask as I follow Bucky, Steve hot on my heels.

“Yeah, ok. What did you expect?” he asks, stripping himself off his Henley and tossing it into the hamper.

“We thought…” Steve trails off as he looks to me for help.

“What?”

“We thought you were gonna break up with us,” I breathe as my heart hammers against my chest.

“What?!” he asks incredulously. “Fuck no. I love the both of you but you needed to figure some shit out.”

“But you said-”

“I exaggerated, obviously. I didn’t mean to. It slipped. So I guess I’m sorry too,” he says, cupping each of our cheeks in his hand and drawing us both closer for a kiss simultaneously.

He pulls away and slips out of his pants and launches himself on the bed while me and Steve stare at him.

“Cuddles?” he asks, draping himself elegantly across the bed with a pout on his lips.

“I… don’t even know what to say,” I sigh as I shuffle toward Bucky and his outstretched arms.

“I do. FUCK YOU BUCKY!”

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Stucky: @spookyparadisesheep @marvelatthisone @Eviegall

*if your username is in italics and with a strikethrough, it means I couldn’t tag you for some reason*

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wildernessuntothemselves · 3 years

Text

Prey for You | Part 5

Genre: Smut, angst.

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: After finding out what Chan really thinks of you, you’re determined to never let him in again. But he finds a way to sneak back into your bed.

Warnings: super unhealthy relationship, dom!reader, sub!chan, milking but not the prostate way, use of a fleshlight, cumplay?, degradation, enemies to lovers, wolf!hybrid chan, fox!hybrid reader

A/N: this is a major risk cuz i don’t even know if I’m done editing this lol so if its a mess let me know and I might fix it lmao. the gif is for the bath scene btw uwu

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 Part 5, Part 6

You wish you could immediately move out and go someplace else, away from Chan and the constant reminder that you’re not good enough for him. But if it was that easy, you wouldn’t have had to move in with him in the first place. Now you were forced to live with the man who everyday reminded you of what you could’ve had if only you weren’t what you were.

For his part, Chan tries to apologize to you, but what use is his apology now that you have confirmation of what he really thinks of you? That doesn’t mean he has let up, though.

“Hey, baby.” The man in question greets you as soon as you come back from a lecture. “I wanna talk to you.”

You can’t keep going through this. Every time he tries to justify himself--to explain why it’s a good idea that people don’t know about you-- it just cements in your mind that he’ll never see you as someone worthy of him, of anyone. So you silently move past him, walking towards your room and hoping that the severe look you have on your face will discourage him this time. But it doesn’t, and he follows you into your room.

“I have something to tell you.” He announces and you turn to face him with an agitated sigh. “Then say it and go.”

You hope this will be quick, at least, but your hope is dashed when he crosses the distance between you and wraps his arms around you, pulling you towards his body. You open your mouth to curse him out, but the smell of him floods your nose with a spicier tinge to it than usual.

“Oh.” Your mouth gapes in realization. “You’re going into heat.”

He nods, leaning down to nuzzle your nose with his before going further, trying to catch your lips in a kiss, but his lips barely brush yours before you lean back, your hands pushing your body as far away from his as the embrace can allow. “So? That doesn’t change anything.”

“The hell it does.” He grimaces, not pleased with your reaction. “I need you.”

“No, you need to get laid. You could get that from any of your groupies.”

He scoffs in disbelief, “So you want me to go fuck other women?”

You realize how far you’ve let things go when just hearing him say it out loud makes you want to fold in on yourself to protect your heart from getting torn to pieces. You shouldn’t have let things get this far. There is a reason you were so cautious before and you’ve gone and fucked yourself over at the first sign of someone being nice to you, of someone showing you the slightest hint of trust and affection. And you thought you were strong.

“I don’t care what you do.” You lie through your teeth, wishing to at least keep the knowledge of your shameful demise from him. “We’re not together.”

That angers him the most. “Yes, we are!”

“Really? Because no one else seems to know.” You seethe, and he finally pulls away from you, infuriated at you as if you’re the one being ridiculous. “You’ve seen how my friends reacted. How do you think everyone else is gonna react?”

“That shouldn’t matter!”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t have anything to lose.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe how full of yourself you are! You think I would be so damn honored if people knew I am with the pride of predators that you are?”

“Stop fucking saying that! Do I need to be a mindless brute to earn your respect as a predator?”

“No, but this--” You gesture vaguely towards him with distaste, “certainly isn’t earning my respect.”

He takes a deep breath, face red and aggression rolling off of him in waves. You wonder if he’ll attack you like last time. But he just grits through his teeth, looking away, “What am supposed to do with my heat?”

“I don’t care.” You mutter, and his eyes snap to you, a little wild with fury.

You hold your breath as he starts walking towards you, a muscle ticking in his jaw, and you imagine what it would be like if he were to snap it around your neck. Would it hurt more or less than you’re hurting right now? But instead of tearing your throat out, he walks past you and out of the room.

_____________________________

Chan has been gone for an hour now. And your mind was running wild with images of him fucking someone else. You feel stupid. You’re the one who sent him away, but what were you supposed to do? Give yourself completely to him until he has exhausted his need of you and throws you away? He’s made his stance pretty clear, and you’d be pathetic to let him use you like that.

You're busy beating yourself when you hear the front door open, and you almost jump out of your skin. You whip around towards it, your treacherous affection hoping to see that Chan has changed his mind and came back to you, but instead your all too familiar bitterness takes hold of you as you see him stumbling into the apartment with a girl, their lips locked and their hands all over each other.

You suppose there must be some truth to the phrase “if looks could kill” because the girl--a bunny hybrid--pulls away from Chan and her big eyes flit around the living room anxiously until they land on you. She squeaks when your eyes meek and she fearfully latches onto Chan’s arm. “You d-didn’t tell me you had a-a roommate.”

Chan on the other hand is straight up grinning as he sees the murderous look on your face. He bends down to whisper something in the girl's ear that you can’t hear, but judging by the motion of his head and the direction she looks, you know he’s telling her where his bedroom is and to go wait for him there. She gives you one last nervous look before she scurries down the hall and disappears. When she’s gone, he struts over to you like a peacock showing off his feathers.

“You look upset, baby girl.”

“You’re a fucking bastard.” You spit out. He smiles wider and leans over you, pushing his hands against the back of the couch and caging you between them. "Last chance, fox. You gonna be a good girl for me or would you rather I go in there and fuck that pretty thing? I know she’ll be more than happy to do anything to please me."

You push him away roughly. He staggers for a second but quickly holds himself upright, grabbing your hands in a painful grip. “That wasn’t so nice, fox.” He grunts, pulling one of your hands towards his crotch and making you feel how hard he is. “But I’ll give you one more chance.”

“You’re such a fucking slut.” You scowl, roughly palming his dick through his pants. He seems to love it though, biting his lip as a groan slips out of him. Vexed, you pull your hand back and get up, leaning up to hiss at him, "Get her the fuck out and come to my room."

His triumphant smile is met with a disgusted sneer from you. "You think you've won?"

“Kinda, yeah.” He laughs cockily.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

_______________________

He quickly loses his smile when he steps into your room and sees the items you have on the bed--a fleshlight and a bottle of lube. He gives you a disheartened look. “No, no, this isn’t what we agreed on.”

“We didn’t agree on anything.”

"I'm going into heat. I need to fuck you not some toy!"

“You can leave if you want. See if the little bunny isn’t too hurt to let you fuck her.” You challenge, confident that he will take anything you give him at this point.

Groaning in defeat, he slumps down on the bed, and you smile knowingly, ordering him to undress for you. He obliges, although not without a sour pout. When he's naked, you gesture for him to come sit with you on the bed, back pressed against your chest as he settles between your legs.

He is hard despite his protests, and you open the bottle of lube and squirt some of it on his cock, putting it down then wrapping your hand around him and pumping his cock slowly, just spreading the lube all over it.

Grabbing the fleshlight with your other hand, you bring it to his lips. "Use your mouth, puppy."

He groans, reluctantly peeking his tongue out to lap at the toy. You tsk in disapproval. “You’ll never get it wet this way. You’re really big, puppy.” You drawl, dragging your fist tightly up his long member and extracting a deep groan out of him. “Wouldn’t want your cock to get hurt when I fuck you with it dry now, would you?”

He gives you a dissatisfied grunt but he pushes his tongue out more, starting to lick the opening of the fleshlight more deliberately now. “Good boy. Get it all wet so I can use it to milk every last drop of cum from your balls. Maybe then you’ll behave.”

His hips buck up into your hands and he starts pushing his tongue in and out of the toy, the wet sounds of his tongue working the fleshlight filling up the room.

"You're so pathetic. Eating out this silicone pussy so I can fuck you with it instead of sticking your dick in some bitch's warm pussy. All because I want you to, right?" You whisper in his ear before pressing soft kisses down his neck. His breath hitches and he pushes his hips up into your hands again, needing more than the gentle touches you were giving him.

"You'll do anything if I ask you to." You state, pulling the toy away from his mouth, breaking off the tiny translucent strings of saliva that connect them. Letting go of his dick, you grab the lube again and order him to put two fingers out for you. You squeeze some of the lube onto them then bring the fleshlight to his hand. “Finger your pussy open, baby.”

“You’re driving me crazy.” He groans as pushes his fingers into the toy, and you laugh. “Aw, is this frustrating for you, puppy?”

“Yes.” He hisses, his fingers fucking in and out of the toy aggressively.

“Good.”

When you’re satisfied with how slick the toy has gotten, and how needy he’s become, you order him to stop and line it over his cock. “Ready, puppy?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be for a fucking toy.” He swears and you smile, plunging the fleshlight over his cock. You don’t need his enthusiasm to do what you want as with a few jerks of the toy, he’s already melting back onto you and moaning out his pleasure, his impending heat already working him to the edge of insanity.

“See? You’re nothing but a horny dog trying to get off.” You use your free hand to massage his lower belly just above the base of his member, stoking the fire building there. “I should lock your dirty cock in a cage during this heat so you won’t go around humping and fucking whoever you can get your hands on. Only let you out when I want to use you.”

“Then use me, please. Take what you need from me.” He moans even louder, his back arching and his hips fucking up into the toy. “Sit on my face and make me eat you out until I can't breathe or sit on my cock and ride me until you've had your fill.” "And give you the satisfaction of giving me pleasure? No, you don't even deserve that. You'll just sit here and take everything like the selfish dog you are." You slide your hand up his body, brushing your fingers over his nipple. He instantly jerks and tries to close his legs but a harsh growl in his ear is all that's needed for him to swing his legs back open.

“See? You’re already gonna cum, aren’t you?” You mock, reaching your hand out to grab the small glass cup you left at the bedside table and placing it under his cock.

“What are you doing?” Chan sputters, confused and embarrassed.

“Wanna see how much cum you have for me, puppy. Show me how bad you need me.” You coax, taking the fleshlight off and using your hand instead, stroking his cock from bottom to top and pointing the leaking tip of it inside the cup.

“Ahh---that’s filthy.” Chan protests but his eyes are glued to the scene and his moans get higher in pitch as you both prepare for him to orgasm. Your hands continue their rhythmic pumping as spurts of white cum start shooting into the glass, almost as if you’re manually squeezing them out of his dick.

“That’s a lot of cum. Such a horny dog.” You murmur, taking in the amount of cum collecting in the glass, and he shudders, transfixed by the way your hand is milking every last drop from him. “And you’re wasting all of it. What a useless pup. Should’ve never been a wolf.”

He growls and lays his head back on your shoulder to look up at you.You think he’s going to argue with you about what you just said but instead he stares at you with his puppy eyes and breathlessly asks for a kiss.

You could refuse him, of course. He doesn’t deserve it. But you want it too, his plump, red lips too enticing to pass up, and so you close the distance between you and capture them in a lazy kiss. But you barely start before he’s squirming and whining against you.

“I suppose you still have more to give me.” You murmur against his lips and start moving your hand over his dick again--the wet sounds from your lips against his and your hands over his dick soon filling up the room.

“Such a big boy.” You marvel as you pull away from his slick lips to gaze at his dick, his breath stuttering when you swipe your palm over the leaking head. “But you won’t even get to use it because you’re a dumb, selfish pup.”

He blinks tiredly at you, apologetically, but you’ll have none of it.

“Ready to fuck your toy again?” You ask haughtily, and he sighs, nodding defeatedly.

“There you go.” You put the toy back on him.

You’re surprised by how vocal he’s being. He’s the loudest you’ve ever heard him. You guess the heat was getting to him as he doesn’t even try to hold back, his moans lusty and shameless. He’s so consumed by the pleasure taking over his body like he’d die without it, and honestly it’s affecting you more than you’d like to admit, your panties sticking to your heat uncomfortably.

"You sound like a whore getting fucked.” You scoff, pumping his dick faster with the fleshlight. "Are you that desperate?"

“Hmm--yes! Please...fuck me--” He cries, easily giving in as his hips jolt up. “Need your hot---ahh--wet pussy around my cock. You can milk me all you want then. I’ll be all yours. My cum is all yours.”

“But I don't need to do that when you’re already being such an easy slut for me.” You move your hand up to his chest again, rubbing and teasing his nipples.

"But you want me--" He gasps as you pinch his nipple in retaliation. "Fuck me, please. Need your pussy--oh god.”

“You don’t need it, dumb puppy. You’re cumming fine enough in this toy.” You put your lips to his neck, sucking on the sensitive spot under his ear then laving over it with your tongue.

“But I want more.. And I know you want---ahhh, fuck--fuck!" He cries out, looking down in time to watch himself empty into the cup again. And like last time, you make sure to catch every last drop.

“Hah--please.” He pants, leaning back to look up at you, his eyes focusing on your lips. “Kiss...”

You sigh, kissing him. He doesn’t have to be instructed in this, his lips opening automatically and his tongue pushing needily into your mouth. As his panting moans pick up again, you pull away.

“Please fuck me.” He draws the request out, pleading.

“No.”

He whimpers at your definite tone and huffs. “Then let me see you at least.”

“See me?” You quirk an eyebrow at him and he nods earnestly. "Wanna see you."

You move out from behind him and settle between his open legs. “Here I am.”

But his gaze isn’t on your face, it’s glued to your hard nipples poking through your tank top in arousal.

“Ah, you wanna see my tits, puppy? Will that help you cum more for me?” You pull your tank top over your breasts, exposing them. He whines at once, struggling to stay in his spot, his tongue swiping over his lips hungrily.

"What is it? Wanna put suck on them, puppy?" You tease, sitting up and leaning your chest over his face, your breasts just out of reach of his mouth.

“Yes! Please, can I?” He begs, and just his breath brushing against your nipples is enough to have you rubbing your legs together. You don’t even want to imagine how fast you’d cum if he put his hands on you.

Tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, you push his face into your chest. “Go ahead. You better make it worth my while.”

His mouth immediately latches onto one of your nipples, lathering it with saliva and sucking on it eagerly.

"Fuck, that's a good boy." You hiss, grabbing the fleshlight and pulling it over his cock, not wanting to get distracted. But the faster you work him, the more eagerly he kisses and sucks at your tits, his tongue hungrily licking all over your chest and his teeth insistently nibbling at the skin.

It's so good the friction you’re getting from rubbing your legs together is enough to make your orgasm build up. You're both impressed and mortified that you can feel yourself getting close just from jerking him off and having him suck on your tits. But you can't dwell on it too much, too busy trying to get him and yourself off.

You get what you want when he flicks your nipple with his tongue then wraps his lips around your entire areola and sucks harshly, ripping the orgasm from your body. Gasping loudly, your movement over his cock stops and your head drops down. But Chan quickly reaches out and grabs your jaw, pulling your head against his so he can see your face as you cum, the both of you wide-eyed and breathing heavily as the orgasm shakes your body.

"Fuck." Chan grunt, his hips bucking up into the stationary fleshlight as moans flow through his spit-slick lips. You can tell he’s almost there and you pull the fleshlight away and reach for the cup but it's too late, his seed shooting out and landing on your belly, marking you with it and trailing down slowly towards your pussy.

"Shit, sorry." He groans apologetically but he’s too weak to do anything about it. Exhausted from the three back to back orgasms, he falls back to the bed, boneless.

You sigh, setting the cup down and getting up to grab some tissues to clean yourself up. When you walk back to the bed, you find Chan struggling to keep his eyes open.

“No, no, get up. Come on, you need to wash off.” You tug on his arm, but his body is too heavy to budge.

“I’m too tired.” He whines like a puppy trying to get out of a bath.

“You won't have to do anything. You just sit in the tub and I’ll clean you up.” You try to pull at his arm again but he just buries his face in the pillows and ignores you. You sigh, running your hand over his skin patiently. “Come one, don’t you want a nice, warm bath? Wouldn’t it feel good after all this effort? It’ll loosen your muscles right up.”

He lifts his head up, regarding you, and you brush the hair out of his face softly. “Come on, puppy. I’m tired too.”

He finally complies, getting up and letting you tug him towards the bathroom. You don’t give him a real bath, you just make him sit in the tub while you scrub and clean his body, letting the warm water stream over him and wash the soap and tension away.

By the time you’re done, he was starting to doze off again. He looked really cute like that, his eyes almost all the way closed and his lips in a slight pout as he tries to keep his head up.

You pat his cheek gently, drawing his attention towards you. “Get up, pup. We’re done.”

He nods groggily and slowly stands up. You dry him off with a towel then lead him to your bed, telling him to wait a minute while you go grab something for him to wear. You know he likes sleeping in only his boxers so you just grab that and come back, handing it to him to put on while you go grab a towel for yourself.

“I’m gonna go take a shower. I want you back in your room when I’m back.”

Your words jolt him awake, his eyes wide and alert suddenly. “What? But I thought...” He trails off, looking at you as if asking for you to help finish his sentence. Which is just ridiculous, you don’t, of course. You stare at him with a blank face until he continues in a small voice, "I was hoping I could stay."

“What gave you that impression? You thought you could manipulate me into fucking you and then everything will be fine and dandy?”

“No. I just really miss you.” He states helplessly, and tears spring up into your eyes at that.

I miss you. You’re special. These are all meaningless words that just serve to put another stab in your heart and remind you of what you’ll never actually have from him.

“I don’t have the energy for this right now.” You say weakly, turning your back around and heading for the door quickly. “Just leave.”

As soon as you get into the shower, you start to sob. You feel like shit. You've gone through so much abuse and ridicule before but this has to be the worst you’ve ever felt about yourself, for yourself. You have so easily given into him. He’s got you where he wants you again, and he didn't even have to compromise anything to get it. You just walked right into it like an idiot, and now you fear that you feel too much for him to get out of this intact.

You stay a long time in the shower, waiting for your tears to dry up, but they never do. All you can manage is to get them to stop streaming down your face like the water does, holding them in your eyes and hoping the long shower allowed enough time for Chan’s scent to disperse from your room.

But when you walk back into your room, towel wrapped snugly around your body, you find Chan himself still in there, sitting on top of your newly made bed. And just like that, the tears fight to be shed again.

“I changed the sheets.” He pipes up, looking at you for approval.

“Oh, you changed the sheets? I guess I have to let you stay now.” Your retort is weak and hoarse. “Baby…” He stands up and walks over to you, reaching a hand out to tug at your own gently, but you quickly snatch it back and take a step away from him,

”Don’t.” Your voice cracks and you turn away in a panic, not wanting him to see you shed any tears for him. But it's useless as he easily turns you back towards him and wraps you in his strong arms. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks like he genuinely cares.

"You're what's wrong!" You sob, trying and failing to to get out of his embrace.

“Don’t say that.” He pleads, wiping your tears and kissing each of your cheeks despite your struggles. “Please, don’t cry.”

“How can I not when I’ve fallen in love with you.” You scream the words at him, hoping that the sheer heartache your voice contains will cast him away from you. And for a moment it seems to work as he staggers at your confession, his face a look of pure shock. This is it. He'll finally take pity on you and stop messing with you. Or at the very least he'll realize that this game isn't fun anymore and he'll back off.

“Just leave me be, please.” You plead, trying once again to pull away from his now loose embrace, but as soon as you move, he snaps out of it, his grip tightening around you even more. Pushing his forehead against yours, he breathes out, “I love you too.”

Before you can think about it, you raise your hands to scratch at him, anything to defend yourself from the continuous torment he’s subjecting you to. You only manage a weak swipe at his cheek before he has both your wrists in his grip and pinned to your back.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He curses, the tiniest bit of blood seeping out of the fresh wound in the middle of his cheek.

“Stop playing with me!”

"I'm not playing! I love you." He shouts back at you, and his words hurt like a dozen pellets piercing your skin. Because either he’s sick enough to lie about this, to continue playing with you despite how precarious your position has become, or he really does love you but his disgust at you is so great that it doesn’t matter.

"How can you say that when you’re ashamed of being with me? How can that be love?"

"You're one to talk! I'm always the one trying not to lose you and you're always the one pushing me away. What does it matter whether people know about us or not when you’re fucking crying at the mere fact that you fell in love with me?"

“I'm crying because the man I fell in love with is so ashamed of loving me that he won't even defend me in front of his friends!"

"And if I do? If I tell everyone that I love you and take all the damage and then you inevitably leave me?" He accuses, so sure of his words like he knows it will happen. All the fight leaves your body at that. He’ll never trust you, will he?

"Why are you assuming the worst of me?" You snivel weakly.

"No, you can’t pull that shit!” He rages, “You don’t have the right to treat me like shit and then cry about the fact that I don’t trust you! I have every right to be scared that in a couple of months you'll look at me and remember how much of an impotent predator you think I am and drop me."

“Then why do you keep me around?” You ask in a small voice, scared of the answer.

“I… I don’t know.”

You laugh bitterly, but Chan stays silent, rooted to his spot and waiting for you to do or say something. You can’t handle this anymore, not now at least. Every time the two of you talk, you hate yourself more. You need to get away from him or you’re afraid you’ll collapse into a void of self-loathing you’ll never be able to pull yourself out from.

Sighing wearily, you slowly shuffle to your closet. You drop your towel and put on some underwear before you start pulling on a pair of pants and a shirt.

“What are you doing?” Chan fumes as he realises what you’re doing. “Are you going out?!”

You stay silent as you pick out some shoes and put them on.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You can’t go out right now. We’re talking!”

You ignore him once again, walking towards the door. He tries to intercept you, face red, “You’re not leaving!”

“Watch me.” You say coldly, going around him and walking out the door.

___________

You didn’t have a place in mind when you went out. You just needed to breathe, to get some fresh air. But you soon find that too sobering, the fresh wounds hurting too much for you to feel them right now. So you decided you’ll do the opposite, stop feeling. And how do you do that? Everyone’s favorite poison. And so you head to the nearest bar you can find.

You’re barely finished with your first glass when you hear a deep voice digging its way through your fuzzy hearing. “Hey! You’re that fox from Chan’s place, right?”

Your heart stops at the sound of his name, and you stare at the empty glass in your hand, determined to ignore the intruder until he goes away. But he just plops down into the seat across from you, exclaiming ever louder. “It is you!”

You stay silent, and he carries on, thinking you don’t recognize him. “I’m Felix by the way if you don’t remember.”

You still don’t give him any response, but he doesn’t give up. "I'm sorry, I didn't really get your name last time..." He trails off, looking at you expectantly. Your gaze shifts to him and he falters when he sees the dead look in your eyes.

After some pause, he drops the cheery look from his face, and says somberly, "Look, I know you probably hate us all because of what happened, and you have every right to, but I just want to apologize for what my friends said. They're really good people but they can be a lot misguided."

You snort mockingly at that, but he seems encouraged that he managed to get any form of response from you, and he continues on. “But you probably don’t want to hear that right now. Anyway, I just really wanted to apologize. I know how it feels to be distrusted because of what you are.”

That gets your attention, and you look at him closely, realizing he is a cat hybrid. They get the same lot as fox hybrids, albeit less severe if the fact that he’s friends with Chan and his pack is anything to go by.

“But you’re friends with them.” You comment suspiciously.

“Well, it’s because Chan took me under his wing. When he trusted me, the others did too. I kind of owe him a lot.”

“Ah, yes, the Perfect Chan agenda.”

“He’s definitely not perfect." He clarifies quickly, and you quirk an eyebrow at that. "Don't get me wrong, I love him like a brother but he can be really stubborn sometimes. He can never let himself be wrong about anything ever or else he'll start spiraling."

“No offense--umm, Felix, was it?” You ask and he nods eagerly, happy that you're talking. “If I wanted to chat about Chan I would've talked to one of his groupies.”

His face blooms red and he sputters sheepishly, “You're right! I just wanted to apologize.”

“Apology accepted.” You say dismissively, waving him away, but he stays, and you give him an exasperated look.

He breaks eye contact, his gaze dropping to his hands.Fiddling with the cup in his hands, he mumbles quietly, “Can I hang out with you for a bit?”

“Now why would I say yes to that?”

He thinks for a while, a pout on his face as he concentrates on finding an answer that will satisfy you. You can see the exact moment an idea pops into his head as his face lights up with a mischievous smile. “Because it will piss off Chan?”

“A kitty after my own heart.” You reach out to pet his head, chuckling at the blush on his pretty face intensifies at that

____________________________________

Felix is something else, you’ll give him that. He’s sweet and cute and he radiates so much warmth and happiness. He’s different from the usual cat hybrids who are cold and aloof even if secretly affectionate. You had wondered at the beginning how a cat hybrid can be so close to Chan and his pack, but it took a whole five minutes of being in his company for you to see it. Simply, Felix exuded a pure, happy energy that was infectious to everyone around him. Even you, down in the dumps and heartbroken, were starting to feel a little better in his presence.

Or maybe that was the inordinate amount of alcohol you have managed to consume throughout the time you spent together. And you guess it was quite some time because as soon as you stumble through the door to Chan’s apartment, the wolf is on you like a dog with a bone.

“Where were you? I was worried sick!”

“Now that’s a funny joke.” You slur, laughing stupidly.

“Are you drunk?” He bellows, sniffing you out. Then he suddenly freezes, a low growl rumbling out of him as he grabs you roughly, glaring at you with wild eyes. "Why do you smell like Felix?"

"I met up with him." You shrug, maddeningly jubilant to the livid wolf.

“What?”

“I. met. up. with. him” You repeat slowly.

"You went out drinking with Felix?" You grits carefully, and you swear you can almost see his eyes grow dark and menacing. But you’re too blissfully drunk to heed the warning storming inside their depths.

"Sure did." You reply nonchalantly.

"I told you…” He says slowly, lips curling around the words and infusing them with a cold fury. “to stay away from my friends."

"We were just talking." You insist stubbornly, needing him to see for once that you’re not the twisted monster he thinks you are. “He said he’d like to be friends.”

Chan’s grip tightens even more around your arms, so much so that it pierces through the foggy numbness of your intoxication. The pain brings about a sense of sobriety, and your breath stills as you become aware of much danger you were in right now.

But Chan wasn’t going to hurt you. Not physically at least.

You feel the blood return to your arms as he lets you go, a look of revulsion and contempt vilifying his face more than anger or violence ever could.

“Stay away from him.” He commands roughly, “I actually care about him.”

Any numbness you had gotten from the alcohol suddenly leaves your body and you crash, feeling all the pain all at once.

I actually care about him. Unlike you. And you’ll sully him if you get close.

“This--” You gesture between the both of you, face completely devoid of emotion. "is over."

________________________

A/N: you guys still want them together? because I think the next chapter will be the last. i mean it won’t matter anyway cuz I’m pretty settled on the ending lol but I’d still like to know

#chan smut #bangchan smut #chan angst #bangchan angst #stray kids smut #stray kids angst

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get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years

Text

Ch. 5

18 + MINORS DNI

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: smut, blow jobs, vaginal sex, degradation, anal fingering, nipple play, face fucking, deep throating, nonconsensual photos, Shigaraki's big dick, rough sex, vaginal fingering, reference to exhibitionism, dirty talk, possessive Shigaraki, kinda unhealthy relationships, sort of loss of virginity for Shigs, creampie, brief reference to drug use, light cockwarming, praise and feels

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Summary: In which Tomura bears all of his nasty soul and you get off on it.

AO3 Mirror

Taglist: @dillybuggg @husband-to-tomura-shigaraki @narcolepticroses (ask if you want to be tagged)

“I don’t—”

He couldn't finish the sentence, not when you were grinding down on him like that. How the hell did you even know how to move your hips in those little circles? Was there some "Being a Massive Slut for Dummies" book he was missing out on or?

“C’mon, Tomura, we’ve been through this,” you sighed and leaned down to suck a trail of sloppy kisses from his jaw to his ear, biting down on the soft flesh, “I know you’ve been thinking so much nasty shit about me, the least you can do is let me hear it.”

Those hands on his chest were moving again, curling into the hem of his t-shirt and tugging until it was over his head and tossed aside to the floor. On an embarrassing instinct, Tomura’s hands shot up to cover himself, only stopping when you leaned onto your haunches and tugged off your own.

“Shit,” Tomura whispered.

You weren’t wearing anything underneath.

He drank in the sight of those cute fucking tits he’d only ever caught glimpses of through those low cut tops you always wore. You grinned down at him, both hands coming up to play with your chest, fingers pinching and rolling the pretty buds. Tomura felt drool slip from the corner of his mouth.

“Is that all you got?” you challenged.

He wasn’t completely in control of his body as it catapulted off the bed to smash his face between your squished up tits, but neither of you were complaining judging by the sounds that followed.

You hummed happily as he pressed his cheeks to the warm, soft flesh and his lips closed around your nipple, sucking and laving his tongue over the pebbled skin.

“You really wanted everyone to see these, huh?” he meant the words to have more bite but it was hard to get the right edge with your fucking boob in his mouth.

And he wasn’t looking to stop suckling at you anytime soon so….

“They’re nice tits, what can I say,” you shot back and he couldn't wait to have you fucked so stupid all those witty one-liners would die on your tongue.

You fucking tasted so good. He hadn’t ever thought that tits would have a taste at all but the odd combination of skin and spit was addictive.

“Got a whole fucking eye full that first time you talked to me in class,” he growled, sinking his teeth in hard enough to leave a mark around your nipple. “Fucking parading them around every time you leaned over. Thought you were so fucking desperate for attention.”

If you really wanted to know all the vile, gross shit he thought on the daily then who was he to deny you that pleasure.

Cause you were definitely feeling some type of way about it based on the way your fingers threaded through his hair and held him to your chest as he tongued and bit at the skin.

“Think I’m just a stupid attention whore, is that it?” you moaned when he switched breasts, palm kneading at the one he’d abandoned.

“I think you’re a useless slut who’ll do anything to get a guy to fucking look your way,” Tomura gasped and sunk his teeth in again.

A shiver ran through him at the whine leaving your lips.

He did that.

He needed to do more of that immediately.

“You like it when I call you a fucking slut?”

Tomura didn’t know what came over him in that moment—what weird spirit of horny confidence possessed his body—but suddenly, with a surge of motion, his hand left your chest and latched onto the smooth column of your throat. The move had actually been quite graceful until he tried to flip your positions and got his legs tangled with yours, resulting in more of a...sexy pile than the smooth transition of power he was going for.

You didn’t seem to mind though.

You never did.

Tomura guessed if he was going to admit something nice about you, then it would be that at least you were consistent.

“I do like it when you call me that,” you breathed into his ear, hands under his arms to haul him back over top of you and replace the hand at your throat with a smirk, “and you love that it’s true.”

Fuck.

He really did, now that he thought about it. All those message boards always talked about finding virgins who you could mold to your dick just like they were meant to be, but…he was so fucking anxious at the best of times, having your eyes that pissed him off and knew it made this so much more fun.

There was probably a more eloquent wording than that, and you would probably more than willing to supply it, but the goal was to shut you up and he wasn’t gonna be okay with just coasting this time.

“God, you need to learn how to shut the fuck up,” he spat and subsequently yelped as you leaned forward, licking a wet trail up his chest before latching onto one of his nipples.

The flushed, pink skin disappeared into the heat of your mouth, leaving his dick twitching violently in his pants that had grown too tight and damp for comfort. The languid motion of your tongue over the rapidly pebbling flesh and the goldilocks perfect way in which you nipped at him was enough to corroborate all your claims of experience.

With the constant, electric spark pleasure running from his chest to his pants, Tomura found formulating sentences a little challenging, so he just said the first thing that came to mind.

“Why don’t we give you something even better to with that fucking whore mouth, hm?”

It was cliche as hell, stolen straight from one of the admittedly plentiful pornos he’d watched in his day, but you just grinned and popped off his nipple, nodded frantically at the innuendo.

Those clever little fingers that seemed to type without ever stopping dropped to the waistband of his sweats and tugged them down his thighs. He kicked a bit awkwardly to get them off his ankles but you were already yanking the elastic of his boxers. You smiled up at him through your lashes as you tucked the fabric just under his balls and let your eyes wander slowly from his splotchy red chest to the patch of hair just at the base of his dick.

If he hadn’t known better, he might have thought you were drooling.

Tomura felt a bit more in his element here, having had some actual frame of reference—as his asshole roommate was so generous to provide—so he didn’t waste any time. Falling onto his back, he squirmed up the sheets until his head was resting on a pillow and you were crawling between his thighs. God and you had your ass up too, wiggling it back and forth like you were wagging your tail at just the thought of getting his cock in your mouth.

Well, since you were so eager, Tomura decided to jump right in. You seemed to like things a bit rough anyway, so he reached out, burying a hand harshly in your hair and plunging past your lips.

The cute and kinda disgusting, choking gasp you let out was delectable.

And now he fucking knew Dabi was lying about his dick being small, cause you had a big fucking mouth to talk all that shit and it was absolutely stuffed full.

Your lips were stretched obscenely not even halfway down his shaft and your eyes were already pricked with tears at the edges. The fucking feel of your mouth was like how he imagined silk might feel, if it was soaked and scorching. Your throat constricted around him as you gagged and oh it was fucking cock sucking heaven he was in.

Tomura was almost tempted to grab his phone and snap a—

Actually, that was a fucking great idea.

His free hand fumbled for his pants, closing around his phone and unlocking it while you hummed and pulled back, bobbing your head twice before sinking back down, Your eyes flew open when the camera flash lit up the dark corner of his room. He could feel you trying to move away, to snap at him for taking his little keepsake, but he quickly fisted your hair and bucked his hips up to keep you firmly on his dick.

“Oh no, you were so excited to suck me off, you’re gonna finish the fucking job before you breathe again,” he panted, holding the sides of your face and fucking your mouth in earnest.

He’d found it easy to simply follow the instinctive rhythm of his hips, constantly seeking out the wet heat source. Your eyes rolled back in your goddamn head as his length slid past your lips over and over again

Holy shit it felt so good.

And it felt even better when he could see how much you loved it.

How much you loved his filthy fucking mostly virgin cock shoved down your throat and he finally felt the vulgar dam in his mind break once again.

“I think about you all the time,” he gasped, keening high when you ran your tongue over his slit on ever upstroke, just how he liked it. “I lay here at night and fuck my hand and think about sinking into your tight fucking cunt. I wanna fill you up so bad, it’s the only thing on my mind whenever I talk to you.”

The only thing stopping him from cumming straight down your throat in that moment was sheer horny force of will.

“When you mouth off in class, all I hear is you just begging for someone to bend you over and fuck that cocky fucking attitude right out of you,” below him, you reached a hand up, pinching hard at his nipple and humming at the squeal that slipped from him. “Fuck, and I want eat your pussy while you’re up there presenting this shit, so I can watch you try and keep it together. Such a fucking slut just for me.”

Something was washing over him.

Some weird, intense revelation of something that perhaps he’d always known but just needed the motivation of a fucking earth shattering blowjob to work out of him—that he wanted you. Really wanted you. Felt entitled to you. He’d spent so much mental energy obsessing over it: that really, no one else fucking deserved to touch you but him.

No one else would want you this much.

No one else would want him this much.

Your hands had found their way to his thighs and they were rubbing sweet little circles into the soft skin.

“You’d love that wouldn’t you?” his voice was wrecked, even more than usual from the near constant string of high pitched whining. “You’d love to have me fucking ruin you, make you cum all over my tongue in front of everyone. Let them fucking know who does this shit to you.”

You managed a nod, even with his cock buried deepdeepdeep in your throat. And Tomura was fucking twitching at the thought. The muscles in his legs jumped under your touch. A slimy mix of spit and precum was gushing down his length, slipping over his balls and slicking his ass. It was sloppy and the room was so full of the wet slap of his hips against your mouth.

It was so much, too much, oh shit, shit he didn’t want to finish like this—

“Wait, wait!” he cried, back arching with the agony of leaving the plush paradise between your lips. “Please—I wanna cum in you.”

You looked up at him, head hanging from his grip in your hair, with your jaw slack, dripping and nodded. He felt as though his ribs were filled with magnets instead of marrow that pulled him into your outstretched arms, kneeling as he pressed his mouth frantically to yours, uncaring of the mess or the faint taste of bitter precum.

There was something frantic in the air, like a switch had been flipped. The need to feel you, to be connected at every point—to get just a little bit more of what he’d earned—grew stronger with every passing second.

His lips were rough and raw and stung when you licked them but that only made it sweeter. You tongued at his teeth and sucked him into your mouth like he was warm food after months without. It was needy. Needy and ragged because you needed him.

You needed him.

What a fucking thought that was.

Your pants were quickly discarded along with his boxers, and for the first time in his life, Tomura didn’t care about all the exposed skin. He didn’t think about all the unsightly patches of irritation or scaring, because you never had. Not once had you ever stared or commented and you weren’t starting now. Your hands smoothed over every inch of him, just as desperate as he always knew you would be.

Because you were so—

Perfect.

Fucking disgusting.

Tomura let you fall back onto the mattress and whimpered at the feeling of your thighs hitched around his waist. He made the mistake of letting his eyes leave your mouth to glance down and oh, oh he was enraptured.

Dabi was right, he’d never actually seen a pussy in real life and holy shit.

His fingers gravitated immediately to your lips, fucking soaked, soaked in arousal that had smeared on your thighs.

“You get this fucking hot just from my cock in your mouth?” he asked, grinning as he collected some of the slick on his fingers and brought them curiously to his mouth.

Delicious.

“Yes—fuck—yes!” you whined and pulled him closer with your thighs.

“You want me to fuck you that bad?” his fingers ghosted over where he thought your clit might be and was rewarded when you moaned low as he brushed over a raised bud. “Does this nasty little slut want me that fucking bad?”

“Please Tomura…” his name on your tongue was better than any crazy ass party drug Dabi ever brought home, “you have no fucking idea how long I’ve been wanting you so fucking deep in me—”

Your words cut off with a sob as he ran his fingers down, searching for your entrance and sinking in hard when he found it. And it was so nice in there.

So fucking hot.

“What are you?” he asked, thrusting his fingers in and out, trying to remember how Dabi did it to him and what felt good, couldn’t be that much different.

He plunged them deep and curled up towards your belly and you sobbed, “A fucking slut!”

God he was so glad no one else was around to hear that.

This was just for him.

“And who’s fucking slut are you?”

He really could help himself, he just wanted you to say it so fucking bad.

“Yours,” you whined and rolled your hips down so his thumb caught on your clit. “I’m your fucking slut!”

“Shit,” he rasped and ripped his fingers from you.

He wasn’t entirely conscious of his movements. There was just one, very loud voice, screaming in his head to bury his cock in that perfect fucking heat and suddenly his was gripping himself and pushing in and—

“Ahh, fucking god,” Tomura whimpered, body going limp as his tip was sheathed fully inside you.

His forehead dropped down to rest against yours, arms like half cooked pasta on either side of your head, failing to hold him up. You moved your hands, sliding fingers through his hair and down his back as your ankles locked right above his ass to urge him forward.

Tomura’s cock sunk in inch by inch until he bottomed out with a groan. His mouth moved even when the rest of him couldn’t

“So tight…” he mumbled, head slipping into the crook of your neck and sucking lightly at the skin, feeling the comfort of it in his mouth. “Ngh...didn’t think it’d be this tight.”

“Are you trying to insult me or were you just a virgin?” you huffed out, but there was a laugh bubbling just behind the words.

He weakly held up two fingers to indicate the second, dropping them immediately to clutch at the sheets when you clamped down on his cock, nestled sweetly against your cervix.

“Wait really?” you asked, hands skimming up his back to grip his cheeks.

Tomura tried to hide himself in your shoulder, because the fucking dopey ass smile on his face would surely feed your ego and he didn’t need you knowing that your pussy had him fucking higher than a goddamn kite.

If only his bones hadn’t suddenly taken on all the physical properties of jello.

“I’ve fucked around before,” he said, which was technically true, “just never in a...uh, like this.”

He didn’t even need to move—which was really a lie cause he was burning with the urge to drive himself frantically into your dripping cunt—but he was so blissed out from just the soft, warm, tight hug of your walls around his cock which pulsed precum with every clench, that simply being inside you at all was enough.

What he wouldn’t give to have this all the time. Have you constantly sitting on his dick, keeping him warm and hard and cumming inside you.

Cumming.

Right.

At the reminder of why exactly he’d set out to do this, his body regained a bit of it’s former solidity.

“Oh,” you began, voice strained and hips shaking with the effort of not rocking back on his dick and making him blow his load too soon. “Well, you feel fucking amazing—”

Tomura cut you off with an experimental thrust. He pulled all the way back, watching as his tip just nearly popped out of your cute fucking hole and then snapped in again. You were a mess above him instantly, gripping at the pillows and then at his arms, dragging red scratches down the pale, fragile skin there.

It only spurred him on.

“You like that? Like my huge fucking cock in you?” he growled, flopping down fully so he could feel your nipples brush against his while he railed into you.

As much as you apparently enjoyed hearing all the filth that spewed from him, he really liked having a receptacle for it all to an even greater degree. It had been hidden inside him for so long, the release was only made sweeter with the addition of your slutty fucking pussy clamping on his length at every word.

“So fucking big, Tomura—”

You rocked up to slip your tongue into his mouth again, sucking softly at his rough lower lip and drinking down all the less than dominant cries that poured from him as his release grew again. He wasn’t really sure how to get you off, but you seemed to understand the intentions behind his hand wandering to nudge at the space he was driving his cock into.

Those soft fingers held his and guided them up to that nub he’d found before and moved his hand in little, rhythmic circles that had you fucking sobbing into his mouth.

Real tears streaked down your face as you moaned into him, “Oh fuck, yes Tomura, baby, just like that…!”

And for once, he had absolutely no qualms with doing exactly what you said. He wanted—needed—to know what it would feel like for you to cream all over his dick. Wanted to see the stupid fucking face you would make as he ripped you apart on his definitively massive length.

You were pushing back into each thrust, drinking in the sound of slapping skin, mouth permanently attached to his—tongues locked together.

The taste of fruit gum mixed with salty cum and the smell of sweat and sex and cleanlaundryshampoo was fucking everywhere. It was intoxicating and heady and all he had ever needed.

Really, you weren’t so bad when you were crying on his cock.

And you were fucking crying, screaming for him—his name, calling him ‘baby’ in a way that had his heart stuttering uncomfortably in his throat and babbling about how good, how fucking perfect he felt inside.

“C’mon,” he grunted, “c’mon, I wanna see my fucking slut cum for me, all over my cock.”

And for once, you actually followed an order.

His fingers on your clit never let up and he could fucking feel the orgasm wash over you. Your cunt spasmed and clenched hard like a vice, tighter than anything he ever could have imagined. And you choked out his name, so desperate:

“Tomura, fuck yes baby!”

God your face was so good, all scrunched up and then relaxing into a blissful, panting, open-mouth grin.

It was sort of beautiful.

But he wasn’t gonna fucking say that.

“Good fucking slut,” he whispered instead, arching his chest into yours so he could feel the swell of your pretty tits against his nipples.

And he almost fucking lost it right there but he needed more, needed to feel full too. The tightness of your pussy was so unmatched by any sensation, but he guessed Dabi always called him a greedy whore for a reason.

His hand grabbed at yours—hips only letting up when he couldn’t actively get his dick out of you as you came—and brought it roughly to his lips. Tomura was still slick, covered in spit and sweat but he sucked two of your fingers into his mouth anyway. His tongue delved between them as you watched with wide eyes as he spat onto your palm and whined.

“I need—oh shit—inside, inside...fuck…”

He could fucking get his tongue to make the words but he dragged your hand to his ass and prayed you’d get the hint. Prayed you’d fill him up too.

And you certainly delivered.

His hips started up their unforgiving rhythm again now that you’d rode out your release, slipping even more easily into your pussy with all the slick spilling out of you. God that would be his cum soon—his cum dripping out onto your thighs. Your feet dropped to the bed and Tomura grabbed your waist for leverage.

Your clever little finger circled his hole, wrist bent from the awkward angle below him but working nonetheless. His spit and precum made less than ideal lube but he welcomed the burn of you entering him. A second one joined behind the first and it was rough going for a moment until he was able to rock back fully, finding a certain bend of the knee and half thrust that had him simultaneously grinding into you and fucking himself on your fingers.

And then you managed to get deep enough to brush against that fucking spot, that magic fucking spot that had him seeing stars and screaming your name—not slut, not bitch, not some other fucking cruelty—your name and spilling rope after rope of hot cum against those searing hot walls.

Your eyes did that thing where they rolled halfway up and crossed like this was some fucking hentai and you weren’t knuckles deep in your creepy group project partner's ass while he came inside you.

Tomura went completely limp then, boneless like a cheap chicken wing and collapsed onto your chest, whimpering when your fingers left him empty but comforted by the rhythmic clenching of your cunt, warming his cock and keeping his cum safe inside.

“So good,” you whispered into his hair, soft palms smoothing over his back in slow circles. “Felt so good, Tomura. You were so good.”

He shivered in your arms, lulled by the feeling of your breasts under him and breathing in the mixture of soap and sex that radiated from your skin. Everything about it was strange, but in that wonderful kind of way that new games sometimes were. A tingling at the prospect of a new adventure, a new world, and a new journey to embark on.

You pressed your lips to his sweat slicked forehead and didn’t turn away in disgust.

No, instead you just held him on his cum soaked sheets and slept.

#tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #shigaraki x you #tomura shigaraki x you #bnha fanfiction #bee.writes

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littledrummeraussie · 3 years

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At Christmas All The Roads Lead Home | part 3

Christmas morning finds Ashton and Y/N reminiscing about their very first holiday together – with both of their flights cancelled the strangers make the hasty decision to rent a room until they can leave for their own destinations. The pair soon finds out that there’s much more than they’ve bargained for when there’s only one bed in their hotel room. story masterlist. | masterlist. word count: 5345 words tags/warnings: past: still an unhealthy load of flirting. they are still sharing food. slow dancing. a second of angst. thank god there's only one bed. smut. oral sex (female receiving). sex with protection. & present: dad!Ashton. fem!mom!reader. married fluff with kids and a dog. Christmas morning cuteness. tooth rotting fluff. nostalgia. slow dancing again. some light references to an upcoming sexual situation.

“How did we end up having sex?” your head leaned back against Ashton’s shoulder and he huffed with a chuckle, wrapping his arms more tightly around you.

“It was probably the eggnog we had with dinner. Or was it champagne?” his cheek rested against your temple and you nuzzled a little closer to him. “I don’t remember.”

“Or just the undeniable sexual tension,” you giggled, turning back to wash your used mugs and put them on the rack to dry. “There was a lot of flirting for sure.”

Bailey has already gone back upstairs to the boys and you decided to clean up a bit before doing the same. Ashton stepped behind you the moment you went to the sink and pushed his body against your back, locking you in his embrace. He lightly swayed with you, humming to a Christmas song that got stuck in his head from last night and before you knew it he already pulled you away from the counter, turning you around to grab your hand and waist and suddenly you were dancing in the kitchen, both of you barefoot and in your sleep clothes.

“We haven’t danced in forever,” he kissed the shell of your ear, his breath hot on your skin, and you melted against him, letting out a sigh.

“I remember dancing with you in our room,” you turned your head a little, pressing your lips against his in a sweet peck. “Before you’ve kissed me.”

“I still remember how you’ve looked in the Christmas lights,” he knocked his forehead against yours, eyes hooded but full of love. “Absolutely breathtaking. Just like now.”

“I was in a nice dress and heels and now I’m in my PJs,” you rolled your eyes with a smile as Ashton guided you towards the living room, dipping you a little before pulling you back against his chest.

“Told you: breathtaking,” he pushed his lips against yours, making it clear that the discussion was not up for debate anymore. “Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

With that Ashton pulled your hips against his and you giggled into the crook of his neck as you felt his hard-on press against your stomach. You pushed yourself up on your tiptoes, smearing kisses on his cheek and lips, his only answer a breathy sigh.

“Is that for me?” you bit your bottom lip, a faint blush on both of your cheeks. “Do I still have that effect on you?”

“You have no fuckin’ idea,” he buried his face in your hair, taking another deep breath, inhaling you. “It’s been 7 years and I still fall in love with you every day.”

*****

“Have dinner with me?”

“I thought we just did that for the last two nights,” your eyes followed Ashton as he rounded the coffee table, sitting down next to you on the couch.

He’s been away for an hour, wanting to call up some people and have a walk while you finished watching a movie, still wearing your PJs and wrapped in one of the blankets. Ashton’s cheeks were pink from the cold (or maybe a blush that hid there), curls hanging over his forehead dampened by the snowy weather. His fingers ran through his hair to push it back, pulling his legs up on the sofa before slowly sliding a foot under your blanket, his toes cold against your bare ones even through his sock.

“I know, but… this is different,” he finally looked up at you when you didn’t pull away from his touch. “They are offering a fancy dinner for the guests downstairs and I thought that we could go too. There’s also a chance that I have already asked them to reserve a table for us.”

“You seem pretty confident that I’ll say yes,” you teased him, a smile pulling at your lips; both of you already knew the answer to his question.

“You’ve just told me that we’ve been having dinner together for the last two nights,” he quirked an eyebrow at you. “So why would tonight be any different?”

“You just told me it’s gonna be different,” you giggled and Ashton rolled his eyes at you. “But I would love to have dinner with you, yeah. Thank you for asking.”

Later that evening, when you were getting ready for dinner you found yourself thinking about this occasion and what it meant. Ashton could have just ordered dinner for the two of you, asking for room service and be done with it like any other night before. But he asked the staff to reserve a table for you, asked you if you wanted to join him – and that sounded a lot like a date for you. Even if it was only for one night.

Ashton was already waiting for you in the living room wearing a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a button or two undone at his neck. The moment he heard you entering he looked up, eyes going wide and lips parting, and you felt yourself blush under his gaze. You knew the little black dress looked good on you, but you did not expect a reaction like this from him – even if you were hoping for it. He quickly caught himself and stood up from the couch, stepping to you and looking you over.

“You look… breathtaking,” he finally said, his gaze locked on yours. “Are you sure you’re my date?”

“I don’t remember anyone else asking me,” the little word made your heart beat quicker and you chuckled, making Ashton do the same. “You’re really handsome as well.”

“Shall we then?” he motioned for the door and you nodded, leaving the room together.

Ashton offered his arm to you when you stepped outside and you accepted it, letting him lead you towards the elevators. Your eyes lingered on each other, smiles and giggles were shared as you arrived downstairs to the restaurant. He gave his name to a waiter and she led you to a table at the back, giving you some time to settle down. Ashton pulled the chair out for you, his fingers brushing against your shoulder before he sat down as well, his hand reaching for yours almost unconsciously before pulling it back like he didn’t do anything.

The waiter came back for your drink orders, and you both quickly decided that eggnog wasn’t really something you wanted to have, so you agreed on a glass of champagne to celebrate the holiday. Your drink and food soon arrived and a comfortable silence settled over the table, only interrupted by giggly remarks and not-so-quiet whispers that left the two of you breathless with laughter. Stealing bites from the other’s plate wasn’t surprising anymore, so you just let your foot lightly kick against Ashton’s whenever he reached over the table for which he curled his ankle around yours, giving you a toothy grin and a wink.

Maybe it was the champagne giving you courage, or maybe you just couldn’t help yourself anymore, but with dinner over and the two of you still sitting there sharing stories you let your hand wander, fingers lightly stroking over Ashton’s arm where it rested on the table. He followed you with his eyes, slowly turning his wrist so you could brush against the moon tattoos on the inside of his arm, drawing over the inked lines with your fingertips. You wanted to take a better look at them since that very first night, and it seemed like Ashton didn’t mind you exploring – the content smile pulling at his lips told you that he was more than okay with your ministrations.

Someone stepped to your table and you were ready to pull back, feeling like you had forgotten about yourself but Ashton loosely tangled your fingers together at the last moment, giving them a light squeeze. Your waiter was back with two plates that she put in front of you, telling how the cakes were a gift from the house as part of the fancy dinner you just had. When she left Ashton gave one more comforting squeeze to your hand before letting you reach for your fork to start on your dessert.

“I can already see you eyeing up my chocolate cake,” you took a bite of your dessert while giving Ashton a knowing look and he shrugged with a grin, a sparkle in his eyes.

“You should know me by now,” he licked some whipped cream off his fork, eyes never leaving you. “I swear they’ve brought two different cakes on purpose.”

“Want a bite?” you offered with a smile and Ashton nodded without hesitation.

You cut off a piece and leaned over the table, holding the fork up for him. Ashton opened his mouth, taking the offered cake between his lips, and that was the moment when the both of you realized that you actually used your own fork to feed him – and that you really didn’t mind sharing it with him. Your eyes were locked on each other as he licked his lips before complimenting the cake, already cutting off a piece from his own dessert and sharing it with you, this time using his own fork to feed it to you.

A smile was shared between the two of you, a light giggle bubbling up from your chest as you both turned back to your cakes. You’ve never felt this comfortable with anyone on a first date.

*****

“You think we could move to the couch?” Ashton lightly nipped your ear, fingers pushing under your shirt at your waist, his touch familiar and warm against your skin. “Just wanna make out with you like we used to.”

“How about you get the fire going…” you nodded towards the fireplace, a glint in your eyes. “…and we could do a little more than just making out, huh?”

*****

“Thank you for the dinner invitation. It was really lovely spending time with you. Again.”

“The pleasure was all mine.”

With dinner over you’ve decided that it was time to go back to your room and maybe watch another Christmas movie while trying to get news about your cancelled flights, seeing if the snowstorm settled down enough that you could travel again. There were no more words between you as you stepped into the elevator, the silence as comfortable as it always has been.

Ashton’s eyes were following the floor numbers while the back of his hand brushed against your hand, and you felt him curl his pinky finger around your own, the touch slow and a bit tentative until you let your fingers tangle with his, your hands loosely interlocked and slightly swinging between the two of you. His eyes moved from the numbers to you, giving you a soft look as his thumb stroked over your skin, and for a moment you let your head rest against his shoulder, your eyes closing as a hundred scenarios ran through your mind.

The elevator stopped with a short ding!, pulling you out of your daydreams. Ashton lightly tugged on your hand and led you down the hallway to your room, his hand still holding onto yours. He fumbled with the key, his cheeks slightly pink as he finally opened the door and let you inside. You knew he felt it too, how something has happened between the two of you, how the world shifted just a little bit inside the quiet of your hotel room, how something has changed between the then and the now.

The room was still dark with only the small Christmas tree giving off a colourful glow, and you let yourself get lost in the festive feeling of the holiday as you watched the lights dance around. You felt Ashton step behind you, his shoulder brushing against yours for a moment before you heard music coming from somewhere and his hand reached for yours, making you turn around. His phone was lying on the table, a slow song playing on the tiny speakers as he offered his hand to you and without hesitation you slipped your hand in his, the other one quickly finding its place up on his shoulder as he curled an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

There was something really beautiful in that moment, something that took your breath away – maybe the Christmas lights or the music, or maybe just Ashton himself with his hazel eyes and dirty blond hair, looking at you like you were the single most beautiful thing in the entire world. You slowly swayed together, lips parted and eyes almost unblinking, like you were scared the moment would be broken if one of you blinked. The music slowly faded away, leaving the both of you in the silence, still holding onto each other.

Your hands slipped around his neck, fingers playing with the fabric of his black shirt as they smoothed over the collar, sliding down on the lapels and skipping over the first two buttons until you got to the one that was still done up on his chest. You lightly fumbled with the button, slowly undoing it and going for the next, fingertips just brushing against his skin under the fabric. But then you felt Ashton reach for your wrists and pull them back on his shoulders, and you felt heat crawl up your neck; in that moment you were sure you have misread all the little signs and that he will tell you that you should stop right then and there, and never talk about it again.

“I’m sorry, I– I shouldn’t have…” you stumbled over your words, voice small and eyes looking anywhere but at him, ready to pull away at any second.

“No, Y/N. No,” Ashton’s voice was soft and sweet, hands lightly cupping your jaw and tilting your head up to look back at him. “I just… just want to kiss you.”

He leaned forward, knocking his forehead against yours and once again you got lost in his eyes, ready to memorize all the colours before they slowly closed as he pressed his warm lips against yours. His eyelashes tickled your skin and you let your fingers slide into his hair at the nape of his neck, keeping him close as you kissed him back, lips slowly gliding against each other’s, the touch hesitant but curious. Ashton’s lips slightly parted as he tried to breathe and kiss you at the same time, a quiet moan slipping out when your tongue brushed against his. You sucked on his bottom lip, nipping it lightly with your teeth, and you felt his fingers tighten on your jaw, his kiss suddenly turning hungry and passionate.

Your fingers tangled into the lapels of his shirt as you held onto him, knees suddenly weak from the force of his kiss. He swallowed your moans and needy whines, arms curling around your waist as he pulled you to his chest; he was like a starved man, craving something only you could give him. His tongue licked into your mouth deepening the kiss and you felt dizzy from how much you wanted him.

Ashton pulled back for a moment, lips red and kiss-swollen, eyes dark in the colourful lights, and you couldn’t help but press your lips back against his, needing to feel them kiss you again. His grip on your hips tightened, slowly taking a few steps backwards to fall back against the couch, pulling you into his lap. Your fingers found their way back to his shirt, fumbling with the remaining buttons and undoing them quickly, palm pressing against his chest as your teeth closed around his bottom lip, pulling on it slightly. Ashton groaned, and before you could pull back to take a look at him he leaned forward, capturing your lips in another kiss, finishing it with a playful bite, just like the one you gave him.

He brushed the hair away from your neck, kissing and licking the soft skin as his hands slid up your back, slowly pulling down the zipper on the back of your dress. Your lips met in another kiss, palms cradling his jaw as he pulled you flush against his chest, and suddenly you felt hot feeling his hard cock press against you where you straddled his lap. The needy sounds leaving your lips made him grab your hips again to help you grind against his bulge and your fingers tugged on his button-up shirt, wanting to finally pull it off him.

With Ashton’s help you threw the shirt on the floor, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold onto him again. It was like he was waiting for this exact moment, suddenly rising from the couch and pushing you onto your back, climbing after you, lips kissing up your neck and along your jaw until he knocked his forehead against yours, out of breath and pupils blown wide. Both of you were panting, the air hot between the two of you as you looked at each other, waiting for what the other was going to say.

“Come to bed with me?” Ashton’s voice was husky with some softness to it, and you tangled your fingers into his hair, lightly brushing through it.

“What’s wrong with the couch?” you let out a breathy giggle and smiled at him, making him chuckle.

“I just need more space,” he mumbled against your lips, leaving small pecks on them. “You’ve told me that the bed is big enough for two and that you don’t mind sharing.”

“That’s true,” you nudged your nose against his, pressing another kiss on his mouth. “Alright, lead the way.”

Ashton pulled you up and gathered you in his arms, holding you tightly as he made his way to the bedroom, and you hid your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. He pressed a kiss on your cheek before mumbling something that sounded a lot like ‘ready?’ then suddenly dropped you on the bed, crawling after you in a second. You kissed between giggles, his fingers pulling on your dress until he could finally remove it, tossing it next to the bed before going back to press another round of kisses on your neck and collarbones.

He followed the path down to your breasts, palms sliding up your arms and pulling on the straps of your bra, his lips already skimming against the warm skin he uncovered. The lingerie soon landed next to the dress, and Ashton held himself up above you, drinking you in with dark eyes and parted lips like he just couldn’t get enough of you.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed, already lowering his head to press open-mouthed kisses on your chest and you curled your hands around his biceps, squeezing them.

“Ash,” your voice was a whisper, a moan, or maybe even a needy plea, you weren’t sure; you just wanted him as close as possible.

“Trust me,” his eyes found yours as he looked up while his lips pressed a kiss between your breasts. “I know what I’m talking about.”

Your fingers were cradling through his hair as he kissed and licked the soft skin of your breasts, lips slowly closing around a nipple to run his tongue over it, sucking it gently. His palm cupped your other breast, thumb flicking against the hard nub as his teeth lightly bit the other one, and you tugged on the locks between your fingers, both wanting to keep him there and pull him up for a kiss. Ashton licked your nipples one after the other then slowly blew on them, the cool air making them harden even more, and you felt your back arching at the sensation.

“Beautiful,” he whispered again, pressing another set of open-mouthed kisses between your breasts and over your ribs, making his way down on your stomach.

You shifted on the bed already feeling heat pool between your legs, Ashton’s touches making you feel like your body was on fire. There were kisses left on your hip bones as he slowly slid away the lace of your panties, nose pressed against your skin and breath tickling you as he tugged it lower. He stopped only for a moment, eyes searching you, and you gave an encouraging squeeze to his shoulder to continue, his answer a kiss on your wrist before sliding the panties down on your legs.

His palms smoothed against your calves and the back of your knees, slowly stroking up your inner thighs, parting your legs to lie between them. The feeling of his fingers on your thighs tickled, making you giggle lightly, and Ashton gave you a crooked smile before pulling your legs over his shoulders, lips pressing kisses closer and closer to where you needed him. You fisted the sheets as he slowly licked over your slit, thumbs stroking your lips before spreading them to lick between your folds, tongue swirling around your clit at the top. He groaned at the taste, already diving back to lap at your pussy, and your fingers tangled into the hair at the back of his head, wanting to keep him between your legs.

His lips closed around your clit sucking it into his mouth while his fingers teased your entrance, not pushing in just rubbing the sensitive skin, licking over it fast just to slow it down again, his satisfied moans making you shiver. Hazel eyes were looking up at you with desire as he gave one last lick to your pussy, nose brushing against your swollen clit before pressing a kiss on the skin just above. Then Ashton pushed himself up, body hovering over you as you grabbed at each other, sharing sloppy kisses and swallowing the other’s needy sounds.

You felt him slightly tremble as your fingers ran down his chest, smoothing over muscles and sensitive nipples, a small laugh mixed with his sighs as you tickled a sensitive spot just under his ribs. Your palm curled around the bulge in his jeans, rubbing him through the fabric, making Ashton lightly bite into your shoulder to stifle the growl escaping him. His mouth was back on yours and you sucked on his bottom lip while fumbling with his belt, tugging on the button and zipper to free him from his jeans. His cock was hard and thick, soaking the thin fabric of his boxers where the tip leaked precum, and you reached for him, pulling him out of his underwear and giving him a few light strokes, making his eyes roll back.

“Is that all for me?” your voice was just above a whisper, lips brushing against his cheek as your thumb teased the tip of his cock, and you felt Ashton give a short nod.

“All of me is for you,” Ashton’s whine was music to your ears, his words making your heart beat quicker. “Fuck, Y/N–”

“I want you to,” your fist tightened around him while his fingers tangled into your hair, kissing you between words and moans, never getting enough of the feeling. “I want you, Ash, please.”

“You sure?” he knocked your foreheads together, nose nuzzling your skin and you nodded, squeezing his shoulder.

“Do you have any…?”

“Yeah. Just a second.”

His lips pressed another kiss against yours and slipped off the bed, pulling off the rest of his clothes before quickly searching through his bag, pulling a box of condoms out of an inside pocket. You sat up and watched him roll one onto his cock, biting your lip as you entertained yourself with the thought that he bought the package just because of you during one of his solo trips the day before – even if it wasn’t true it still made arousal bubble up in your lower stomach.

Ashton climbed back next to you, giving a squeeze to your hips as he sat against the headboard, motioning you to straddle his lap. Your thighs rested on both sides of his hips, bodies melting together as you kissed and caressed each other, his hands on your hips pulling you closer to his cock. You grabbed his hard length, rubbing your wet lips against him to coat him in your juices, your fingers tangling into his hair as you slowly let the tip slip inside you, both of you moaning as you worked yourself back on his cock.

“I didn’t plan on having sex during this trip at all,” his lips peppered kisses on your neck while pushing deeper, a whimper escaping you when you made sense of his words. “But you had me wrapped around your finger the moment I’ve met you and I couldn’t take chances.”

“Do I have that effect on you?” your fingers were still cradling through his curls as you settled in his lap, getting used to feeling him so deep inside you.

“You have no fucking idea,” he captured your lips in a kiss, hand cupping your jaw while the other stroked over your back soothingly.

Your hips slowly started moving on their own accord, your pleas whispered against Ashton’s lips urging him to do that same, and you felt him adjusting you in his lap, building his pace as he fucked up into you. His thrusts met yours as you were riding him, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, your high-pitched moans stifled by his kisses. He grabbed a handful of your ass, making you ride his cock faster and faster until your thighs started to strain and you buried your face in his neck.

Ashton held you tightly as he moved you onto your back, pulling your legs around his waist, your heels digging into his ass. He held both your hands above your head, fingers tangled together and squeezing tightly as his hips snapped against yours, his skin dragging against your clit, making you shake and clench around him. With parted lips and foreheads pushed together you both felt your bodies shake, smearing kisses on cheeks and noses as Ashton buried his face in your neck, trying to catch his breath. For a few seconds he stayed there, his pants hot against your skin before pulling back up, tongue licking against your mouth before kissing you deeply.

“I can still go on,” he mumbled against your skin, hips lazily trusting into you, cock still hard inside you.

“Yeah, me too,” your thumbs stroked his cheeks, kissing his nose sweetly. “But you gotta move.”

A smile played at the corner of his mouth before pushing himself up, pulling you with him. You pecked his lips again, giving a small bite to the bottom one and he pouted at you when you moved away from him. You made sure to give him a flirty wink before moving to the end of the bed and grabbing the headboard, slightly wiggling your ass, making Ashton groan and kneel behind you. His lips attached themselves to the spot where neck meets shoulder, sucking the skin between his teeth as he swiped his cock up and down between your folds, finally pushing back in. He quickly started pounding you again, his movements jolting the bed and making the frame thump against the wall.

His chest melted against your back, lips still kissing and biting you as his hands travelled up from your hips to your breasts, cupping them in his palms and thumbing your hard nipples, making you squeeze your pussy around his cock. You felt the pleasure building in you again as his thick length dragged against the sweet spot inside you, and you let your moans freely spill out of you, mixed with pleas of ‘more’ and ‘harder’.

Suddenly you felt him pull you against his chest as he sat back on his heels, cock still buried deep inside you as he fucked you faster than before, teeth closing around your earlobe, his hand between your legs as he thumbed your clit, drawing quick circles on it. You grabbed onto his arm, head leaning back against his shoulder, repeating his name between whimpers, begging him to make you come again.

“Ash– ‘sh, please,” your lips pressed against his jaw, the kiss landing sloppily on his skin. “Please–”

“Want to see you cum on my cock,” his breath was hot on your ear, his voice full of lust and longing as he still fucked you. “Want to feel you cum on it, want you to squeeze me so hard that you make me cum too.”

You felt your body tremble and shake against his as he finally got you there, his words in your ear making you wish he would fuck you until morning came around. You whined as he pulled out, knowing he wasn’t done yet – knowing that you wanted him back inside you right away. Ashton’s lips pressed a series of kisses against your spine before turning you back around and lying on top of you, easily sliding back into your pussy. Your arms slid around his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he kissed you passionately, swallowing each other’s moans while his hips snapped into you, his own orgasm approaching fast.

He mumbled against your lips, words of ‘beautiful’ and ‘please’ and your name whispered on your skin as you squeezed around him. Then his hips stuttered, abs tensing against you as he sucked in a breath, his sounds full of pleasure as his cock twitched and pulsed inside you. He lazily trusted into you a few more times, riding out his high with his forehead knocked against yours, dark hazel eyes staring into yours. His lips parted around another moan before smearing them against your lips in a kiss, and you buried your fingers into his hair again, playing with the damp locks as you lazily made out.

“I don’t wanna move,” Ashton nuzzled his nose against yours, eyes hazy and voice thick with sleep.

“Me neither,” you stroked your palm against the back of his neck and the top of his spine, making Ash let out a sound that almost sounded like purring.

“Let me clean you up, okay?”

You nodded, pressing your lips together in one more kiss before he pulled out, making you hiss a little. He leaned forward kissing the skin between your breasts, then went to the bathroom looking for a washcloth. By the time he got back he already got rid of the used condom, now focusing on wiping your thighs and between your legs before crawling back on the bed, settling next to you.

Ashton quickly pulled you to his side before grabbing the blankets, tucking them around your shoulders to keep you warm against his body. You pressed a kiss against his shoulder, nuzzling his skin sweetly before you snuggled against his chest. His fingers brushed through your hair, lightly playing with the tangled locks as he stroked them away from your face, his cheek resting against the top of your head. Silence settled over the room, the only sound the rustling sheets as you caressed each other, enjoying your afterglow.

“Ashton…”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m on your side…” your lips brushed against his throat, and you felt him lightly chuckle before kissing your forehead.

“Sure there are sides anymore? I thought we’ve got better at sharing,” his voice was soft and flirty, something you’ve got so used to in the last two days. “And in that case: I think I’m on your side.”

“My side is your side, and your side is my side,” he giggled as you drew patterns on his skin, pulling your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles. “And since we’re so good at sharing… do you think we could have breakfast in bed?”

“Deal,” Ashton tilted your head up to kiss you, lips and tongues lazily brushing as you both hummed. “Anything else you wanna share with me?”

“I think I’m falling for you,” you confessed as you bit your lip, knowing this wasn’t what Ashton was thinking about.

“Too late,” he lightly shook his head, the soft smile still on his lips. “Because I already fell for you.”

------------------------------------------------

» part 1 » part 2 » part 3 » part 4

taglist.

@mymindwide @loveroflrh @sadistmichael @notinthesameguey @babylonashton @talkfastromance4 @dead-and-golden @fuckyeah5sostakemehome @karajaynetoday @myfavfanficsever @myloverboyash @suchalonelysunflower @sexgodashton @rebelwith0utacause @creampiecashton @irwinkitten @allthestarsandthemoon @castaway-cashton @spicycal @wontlastimokwiththat @luckyduckydoo @sunshineeashton @2fangirl4u @talkfastdrummer @pastelbabygirl19 @istantommoandtpwk @perfectlieirwin @thesweetness-irwin-archive @c-a-l-m-hood @youngblood199456 @tiannaxox2 @caffeinecalum @fanficsandotherthings @melanindarling

#ashton irwin #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin fanfiction #ashton irwin smut #dad!ashton #afic: at christmas all the roads lead home #series: at christmas #fiction time

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too-scared-to-do-this · 3 years

Text

Of the Devil’s head

Chapter eleven - Hell’s fire couldn’t beat this

Sander’s sides fanfiction

Wordcount: 2851

Ship: prinxiety (*cracks nuckles* This is going to be fun BJ)

TW: cursing, a bunch of flirting, friendly banter, naked torsos, a lot of flustering and a very shitty-ly described kissing scene. If I’ve missed any, let me know. <3

Summary of the whole story: They say, the one that wears the crown rules all - the living, the dead, the walking, the crawling, the rooted, the sane and the mad. They say, once you own the crown, you become the most powerful being on Earth and beyond. Roman’s stolen bigger things - a measly little crown won’t present a problem, even if he has to steel it straight off of the devils head!

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Chapter eleven - Hell’s fire couldn’t beat this

“You know, for being the Devil, you aren’t such a though guy.” Roman grinned, holding Virgil a little tighter to himself subconsciously. He knew that was a lie, but couldn’t help but tease.

The demon just chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Oh please. Have you seen my fangs?”

Ro smirked. “Yeah. Sharp and pointy. But don’t make you scary.” that was a lie as well. But it did bring him over to his next point. He’s green eyes got darker, eyelids lowering. “They make you look rather hot.”

A shower run up Virgil’s back at the purr. Yap. Nope. This was not happening. He immediately pushed up, away from the Human and darted out of bed. “I’m gonna go take a shower.” he stammered out.

Roman blinked at the red-faced Devil running around franticly, pulling out drawers left and right. He blinked again, as V pulled out a bunch of different pieces of clothes. He watched as he turned towards him, fabric flying through the air, and he couldn’t watch anymore. His sight was obscured by endless darkness - Virgil managed to hit him square in the face with a shirt. (He had a really good aim when stressed or embarrassed.)

“You need a change too. You can wait until I leave if you wanna shower - I’m not sure what Humans do… Is it like cats? Like, do you lick yourself clean? Because, ew, disgusting. But anyways…” that whole thing was rushed out in one nervous breath, deep voice pitched a lot higher. Cheeks a deeper red then before. “Shower.” he quipped and slammed the door behind him.

And that’s when Roman just… started laughing. “What? The devil can’t handle a little flirting?”

The demon, redder than Hell’s fire at this point, let his forehead fall against dark wood. Oh, almighty Hades, why did this thief have such power over him? This was unhealthy.

Roman was still laughing his ass off. Lucky he hasn’t fallen off the bed yet, from how he was trashing around. Yeah, he was a complete goner. But at least now he knew how to get the devil flustered! Oh damn it, the demon was cute when red!

And obviously, Virgil could hear it even through the sick lock door. He sighed and threw his close on the closed toilet. “A shower? Really?”

This was getting harder by the shortest passage of time.

What was the point anyways? He didn’t even need to shower! He could just snap his fingers and be done with it! The bathroom was built only because the running water seemed to calm the king down when he was in the midst of a panic attack. Yet he couldn’t think of a better excuse then a dumb shower! He was the Devil for dark’s sake!

“Hades, let’s just get this over with.” he rolled his eyes, and for once, actually got into that shower.

Meanwhile, Roman was still trashing around on the bed, laughing like crazy. It physically hurt at this point.

It wasn’t a long shower, but it seemed like forever to both creatures. One laying on bed, still kind of getting over post-laugh giggles and the other wrapping a towel around himself and leaning on the sink. Dark hair dripping purple from the die (he’ll have to touch it up later) and body still glistening from droplets.

Virgil wasn’t really sure what he was going to do now.

there was a man in his bedroom. One he literally slept on top of. A very, very gorgeous man! Infront of who he just completely humiliated himself. How will he now show his face?

The devil glanced into the mirror and bit his lip. Maybe not literally naked - he should really get dressed first. And then worry about facing the liveling.

He grabbed the clothes he threw aside, pulled all the pieces on. Just to find that in his hurry, he threw his own shirt at Roman.

“Shit… This is just great.” he sighed. All his former clothes were long gone, down the laundry drop.

Now. He could just snap his fingers to make a new one appears, or…

The glint was back in all six of the king’s eyes. He grinned to himself, fangs showing. “You mess with me…” he hummed, leaning closer to the mirror fixing his damp hair over his eye. “…I mess with you.”

Roman was on the bed still, trying to get his mind to stop coming back to how cute the demon was with red cheeks when the door creaked open.

He sat up immediately, about to say something snarky to tease the poor Devil, but he didn’t get to that. Mind completely short-circuiting, heart in his throat and words nowhere to find he eyed to exposed torso of the pail demon walking around in front of him. Did this man really not know what effect would this have on Roman?!

Oh, Virgil knew, believe me. He knew very well. Walking out like nothing, half naked with a towel around his neck, hair still wet and droplets of water still glistening on his skin here and there. He didn’t bother to look at the thief. Those holes that were being burned into his torso were enough to go by. And also, the fact he acted oblivious would make Roman even more flustered. That was a bonus.

Don’t get him wrong, it wasn’t like he was so proud of his body. But when you have time on your hands, why not work out, Eliminate at least one of the many insecurities. So yeah, he had a sixpack. Big deal.

Big deal indeed! Roman was dying on that bed! Mouth hanging half open, fully entranced by the beautiful chiseled entity in front of him. And then there was a shirt - again. Muscles moved as the delicious stomach got covered completely, only arms exposed.

The thief shook his head. “Why would you do that?!” he hated how clipped his voice sounded.

Virgil finally looked up at him, fully grinning on the inside. On the outside though, he just bit his lip and blinked innocently. “What?”

“T-that!” Roman moved his hands around rigidly, gesturing at Virgil whole.

“Oh that. I forgot my shirt.”

“Uhm. Yeah, yeah. You just so happen to forget your shirt. And then walk out looking like Michelangelo’s David!”

And that was all Virgil needed. His inner grin reached the poutside, wider and more menacing than ever. He latched onto those words like a lifeline. “Oh, liveling, you think I’m as hot as David?”

Roman’s cheeks grew even redder. “For you, information - I was talking about how pail you look. Not how hot he is.”

“Oh, so you have a thing for statues. Good to know.”

“No! Zeus! You were the one to bring it up!”

“I knew the guy personally; I can say he’s hot. You on the other hand, thiefy, you didn’t. What’s your excuse?”

“Wait, you knew David? How old are you?”

Virgil stopped to think for a second. Well… he didn’t really have an answer to that. “I’m not really sure.”

“Old enough to know him apparently! Man, you’re old!”

“And you apparently have a thing for old folks and stone-carvings.”

Cue offended thief noises. Virgil just snorted, walking towards the Human. “You didn’t deny it. So you admit you have a thing for me?”

“What?! No! You’re too old for me.”

“And you apparently can’t say anything other than old.“

“I’ll let you know! I can do and say a lot of things!”

“But escaping Hell isn’t one of them.”

“Low blow man!” Roman gasped dramatically, hand flying to his chest.

“I’m just saying… I could show you all the good hiding places.” Virgil grinned to himself, fangs showing again. This was way too much fun. The frustrated look the thief wore was priceless. He propped his hands on the mattress, leaning slightly towards Ro. “That way you might actually have a chance to succeed.”

“Hey!” Roman grabbed the first thing he could find and threw it at the crownless king. Hit him perfectly square in the face.

And then Ro remembered that this was still the Devil, he just threw a pillow at.

Oh no…

Virgil blinked. What just happened? He looked down at the pillow that plopped down guiltily between his hands and then back up at the reddening creature. “Did you just… throw a pillow at me?” he frowned in confusion.

The sitting one gulped. “Mayyyyybeee….?” he smiled nervously.

Virgil blinked again with eyes bigger than saucers. He looked back at the pillow.

And he burst out laughing. The low rumbled of baritone climbing under Romans skin like a parasite.

The Human didn’t know what to do! He couldn’t help but watch the creature. Fangs glistening in the dim light, cheeks hiding his already sunken in eyes. He was so adorable.

Virgil looked up just in time to catch Roman averting his eyes. His cheeks were getting pinker than before (which was saying something). And the king couldn’t help but smirk. “Are you blushing, Roman?”

Gods, hearing his name from the devil’s mouth! “What?! No! You must be hallucinating!” Roman turned his face away completely, cheeks getting dark red at this point.

Virgil bit his lip to keep him from grinning (it didn’t help). This was just too funny - watching this helpless human squirm.

“I’m pretty sure you were blushing.” he leaned even closer to Roman, watching him coolly.

“No, I wasn’t!” Ro peeped up, cringing at the sound of his own high-pitched voice.

By now Virgil was a mere breath away from the boiling thief. He bit his lip again, grin loose. Eyes sparkling with a mysterious glit. “Then why are your cheeks red?” he whispered, running his knuckles along Roman’s cheek.

The liveling was speechless. He was pretty sure he swallowed his tongue. “I-I did not notice.”

Virgil’s grin darkened. He could just kiss him right now. Lean in and kiss him right here. No one would know.

He had no idea where this newfound confidence was coming from. Maybe the ages of being alone. Maybe the feeling of this rush. Maybe even the fact that Roman was coming undone under his touch the same way Virgil felt himself fall apart under his.

And maybe it was the whole situation they were in

He didn’t realize he was staring at Romans lips. But Ro did notice. Every time he glanced up from V’s.

Funny how little time these two needed. But Hell was timeless after all. It could have been three days, or even three years Roman was stuck down there. There was no way to tell.

What he could tell though, was that ‘stuck’ was so far off from the way he was feeling down here. With this demon.

Who was looking at him as if he was his last wish.

Roman couldn’t take it anymore. It was now or never.

And suddenly Virgil wasn’t thinking anymore. Instead, he was pulled on top of Roman, pushing him into the pillows. Lips on lips.

Why did it take him so long?

---------------------------------

Why was this so hard?

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it :)

I’ll be back as soon as possible. Big ending’s coming up, so get ready!

Tag list:

@romano-hottopic

@vpow

@a-formless-entity

@lovelivingmydreams

@alice-only-me

#of the devil's head #Virgil the king of hell #roman the thief #ts virgil #prinxiety #virgil sanders #anxiety sanders #ts roman #roman sanders #creativity sanders #thomas sanders #Sander's sides #what else should I tag?

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slasherholic · 4 years

Text

chapter synopsis: Michael kills again. Luckily (or unluckily) for you, he seems to be saving the best for last.

chapter warnings: graphic depictions of violence and death, Michael being a mean bastard

Chapter One

Chapter Two

End of the Line | Michael Myers x Reader | Chapter Three

Sometime before Wendy’s hysterical wailing stopped and after the stench of bile dissolved into the background, Travis cut Ashley’s body down.

You shouldn’t touch her, Diane had warned him, but Travis insisted on it. He said he didn’t want to look at her eyes anymore.

You hug your knees against your chest and stare over at where Ashley lies face-down in a heap on the floor, a streak of blood mapping out the path where Travis dragged her by the armpits out of the dark red puddle, depositing her on dryer land, and you cannot say you blame him, not at all.

Ashley’s lids are not shut all the way. One of her eyes still peeks out from underneath long eyelashes, glazed-over and sightless, looking at nothing.

I’m sorry, you feel obliged to tell her out of courtesy; but you aren’t entirely sure what you are apologizing for, and the apology feels empty anyhow. Maybe Michael's heartlessness is contagious.

Or maybe it is because every fiber of your lizard-brain is screaming in hopeful unison, better her than me. Better her than me. Better her than me.

The group sits now in a tight huddle on the floor at one corner of the dusty court. Travis holds Diane in his arms and stares blankly at the nearest basketball hoop. Diane clutches big handfuls of Travis’ shirt in both her slender hands and can’t seem to peel her eyes off of Ashley. Wendy, no longer sobbing, is the only one not sitting—instead she mills around aimlessly in front of the bleachers, pacing back and forth, following alongside the white out-of-bounds line. Sometimes, briefly, you turn and watch her pace.

Then you look away again and return to vigilantly scanning the unlit corners where the flashlights do not reach. You scan for movement; for an out-of-place shadow; for a shape creeping steadily closer.

Michael hasn’t left the room—not after what he did with Ashley’s body.

Like a hunter mounting a prize buck, he has taken meticulous care to display his kill. He knew that you would find it. He meant for you to find it. Now, you’ve given him the pleasure of observing your individual break-downs.

Of listening to Wendy sob and blubber, of seeing Travis clutch at his long hair and swear and punch the bleachers until his knuckles bloodied, of seeing you keel over and wretch on the ground. You are terrified. All of you. Michael knows this—he is lurking somewhere in those reaching shadows, unseen and unnoticed, drinking in that terror like a favored television channel.

You are entertainment.

To your left, Josh lifts his head out of his knees with a little sniffle, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. He licks his chapped lips before speaking.

“Why’d he do that to her?” He asks in a whispery croak, talking to nobody.

You glance at him. Travis and Diane do too.

“Why’d he string her up like that? Why the fuck would he do that man?”

Because he’s playing, comes your internal response, as quickly as if you were reading from a script—because Michael’s actions are play. Because he’s trying to scare you shitless and it’s working. Because it’s fun and he’s getting off on it. Because he’s sick and twisted and evil and just not right; and so are you for needing him.

Diane shifts suddenly in Travis’ lap. She pulls away from his embrace and sits upright.

“It was a pattern in the Haddonfield murders.” She explains softly, absently tracing a pattern with her pointer finger in the dust on the floor.

“The bodies, see, they were all moved around from their places of death, and—and, um, displayed. It’s been happening all around the state, wherever there are mass killings. So that’s why people think Myers is behind all of them.”

She continues to trace her pattern and goes silent. The silence is contagious.

Near the bleachers, Wendy is still pacing. You doubt she even heard Diane’s statement. It’s probably for the best.

“Why don’t you siddown, Wend.” Travis suggests.

You watch Wendy walk over to the bleachers and sit. Then, as if the bench were crawling with ants, she shoots to her feet again—climbing up nine steps—plopping down onto the tenth. She stares at her knees and doesn’t move after that.

“Hey. You.”

You glance over your shoulder at Travis. His eyes are glassy and dull. He’s staring at you.

“So what’s your deal anyway, huh?” He questions, flatly. “Are you, like, some kinda adrenaline junkie? Exploring a place like this alone at night without a flashlight?”

His eyes glint with something bordering on suspicion.

“And you just… ran right into Myers?”

Josh and Diane turn their heads and look at you, too. You glance away from their eyes without meaning to and stare at your shoelaces. Shit; you’ll have to tread carefully here, very carefully; the truth will not keep you in these people’s good graces.

You breathe in deeply, slowly, before speaking.

“Believe me, it wasn’t by choice.” You begin, bundling your arms around your knees, tugging at your shoelace. “It happened so fast—I got home from the store, I got out of my car, I walked up my driveway. The next thing I know, I’m being grabbed and locked in the trunk.”

You shut your mouth quickly. It’s not a lie; it’s just not the whole truth.

There’s another moment of silence. You can’t look the others in the face. For a frightening moment, you can’t tell if they’ve bought it or not.

Then, Josh pipes in.

“How’d you get away from him?”

“I didn’t get away. He let me run. I think he wants a chase, before he…”

Your voice trails off. You glance up from the floor and make eye contact with Josh. His gloomy look tells you that you don’t need to say anything more.

From the bleachers, Wendy murmurs something under her breath.

“We can’t hear you, Wend.” Travis says.

You watch Wendy lift her head from her knees, staring right at you. Her face is an unhealthy color and her cheeks are streaked with tears.

“I said, maybe he just wants her.” She repeats with a sniff. “Maybe if he gets her, he’ll fuck off and leave us alone.”

Your stare-off with her lasts for an uncomfortable time. Wendy sniffs when the snot runs too far down her nose. You pluck agitatedly at your shoelace.

She’s right, in a certain way, your inner-voice chimes in. Michael does want you.

But some bitter part of you wants to tell her, He wants you too. He wants you Wendy, and he is going to get you, and once he’s caught you you’re going to beg him and cry until the tears won’t come out anymore, and guess what Wendy? If you’re lucky he’ll kill you quick—and if you’re not, he’ll do it slowly. If you’re unlucky, Wendy, Michael will kill you over the course of many long months, and it will hurt far worse than that knife would have, because by then you won’t just fear him, Wendy, but you’ll love the sick evil bastard too, he’ll make sure of it—and when your time comes those tears won’t just be terror and fear, Wendy, they will also be the coldest, loneliest heartbreak.

You are so lost in your spiteful fantasy that it takes you a moment to realize the room has gone deathly quiet. As if Wendy’s suggestion is a cool and logical point and not-at-all the desperate petitioning of a girl terrified for her life. As if offering you up to Michael like a sacrificial lamb is a perfectly sane thing to do.

But no, it’s really happening—you can tell by just their stern and guilty faces that the people huddled around you are seriously considering it.

You speak up for yourself before they get to thinking too hard.

“Alright, maybe he does just want me” You tell Wendy. “But what if you’re wrong? What if I die, and he just keeps coming? Wanna know what happens then?”

Wendy sniffles. She makes a face like you’ve kicked her in the stomach. Her eyes scrunch up like she’s about to cry again. You don’t care.

“If I’m dead, and you’re wrong, then you’re gonna be next.”

Wendy makes a choked sound and now she’s crying again. She buries her head in her knees and her body heaves silently.

At your exchange, Diane shakes her head in frustration. She clambers out of Travis’ lap and rises to her feet like there’s a fire beneath her ass.

“Alright, come on, everyone up.”

An awkward moment passes where nobody moves. She snaps her fingers in a huffy way.

“Come on, I’m dead serious! We’re gonna tear out each other's throats if we stay here. We need a plan to get out.”

You gaze solemnly up at Diane, and some defeatist part of you says that it isn’t even worth trying. Michael will get what he wants. Michael always gets what he wants. It’s in his nature and he’s very good at it.

You clamber to your feet anyway, because Diane is right—wherever Michael is lurking in this vast, empty room, it is only a matter of time before he grows bored of watching.

And no matter how much your rational brain has accepted it, you do not want to die tonight.

One by one the others follow your lead, clambering languidly to their feet. Travis first, then Josh. Only Wendy doesn’t get up—from the bleachers, she murmurs that she can hear just fine from where she is.

You get to planning. It turns out that Travis is some kind of urban explorer, and he’s been to the school before. According to him the only exit (and entrance) that hasn’t been blocked off or boarded up over the years is the one they all came in through. The same exit that Michael drove you in through.

“That’s the way we gotta go.” Travis says to the huddle-up, like a football coach giving a pep-talk before the big game.

“We can get out of here—he’s just one guy right? I mean yeah, this is one sick motherfucker we’re dealing with, but he isn’t some boogeyman. Here, look.”

Travis bends, reaching for his hunting knife where it rests in his ankle holster, drawing it out, holding it in the air to enunciate his point.

“If he finds us, I’ll cut him. And then we just run and we don’t look back. Wend, come on. We can’t stay here.”

In your periphery you watch Wendy slowly untangle herself from her knees, rising off the step as though waking from an unsatisfying nap. She begins descending the steps.

Then she trips.

Her scream is jerked out of her as if yanked by a string. She topples in an instant, falling hard, the sharp clank of her head meeting the bleachers echoing in the vastness of the room.

Every head whips.

For a second it seems as though she’s only lost her balance. Then, every flashlight is trained on her like a spotlight. Your blood runs colder than ice water.

Beneath the bleachers looms a dark and imposing figure. The figure’s white face is ghastly in the harsh yellow beams.

Michael has been lurking beneath Wendy the entire time.

His dangerous hand penetrates the space in the steps, clamping like a vice around Wendy’s ankle, tugging with all his immense strength as Wendy screams and kicks at him, trying to pull her down through the gap. Wendy won’t fit.

She aims another frenzied kick at Michael’s hand. This time, the strong fingers are dislodged.

Wendy is on her feet again incredibly fast, pulling her leg out of the gap. She starts frantically down the bleachers, limping.

“Go!” Travis screams, at her, at everyone.

You go. It is a mad scramble for the far door. Travis half-carries Wendy, the two of them lagging behind.

You burst through the exit doors and Josh and Diane are in your wake. Behind you, Travis screams to hold it open, hold it open.

There is a single moment where you gaze back into the dark court and see The Shape approaching, cutting through the darkness like a ship gliding through water, utterly unstoppable.

Travis and Diane collapse through the doors. Immediately Diane swings them shut. She throws her body up against the wood.

“Hold them! Hold them!”

Everybody braces against the doors. The squeak of Michael’s bootsteps over the court booms thunderously, closer and closer, and then—

He kicks.

Your temple slams against the wood. The doors rattle horribly.

He kicks again. His force is explosive. Monstrous. Unbelievable. He does it again. And again. The onslaught does not stop or slow. Wendy screams. Josh is crying. Your combined weight won’t be enough—with every kick Michael is opening the door a few inches further.

Head whipping around, you scan the dark hallway frantically. When you see your saving grace you can hardly see it—the flashlights all hang in occupied hands—but squinting, you know that it is there and not some figment of your desperate imagination. Against the base of the opposite wall lies a thick slab of wood.

You scramble away from the door. Somewhere behind you Travis yells at you to “get your ass back here.” Plank in hand, you scramble back.

Michael kicks again. This time the doors open a little too wide, wide enough for his vicious hand to shoot through the gap. The hand closes around Josh’s hoodie and yanks him violently upward, sweeping him clean off his feet, into the air, effortless. Josh flails and screams.

Travis cries out and swipes at the hand with his knife.

The hand lets go, bloodied now, retreating through the gap again.

“Just a little longer!” You scream, and jam the plank through the handle bars. A tight fit.

Everybody scrambles away from the door. The thunderous kicking on the other side doesn’t slow—it picks up furiously, the doorframe trembling, the walls shuddering feverishly, and for a moment you are sure that Michael in his hideous strength is going to bring the very building down around you. You hold your breath.

But the plank holds dutifully. And the doors do not open another inch.

All at once, the kicking stops.

Everybody drinks in big gulps of air, and nobody moves for a while. Waiting for the dreadful moment when it all starts up again. Waiting for Michael to kick harder this time and deliver the final blow that will twist the doors clean off their hinges. Wendy makes little pained sounds from her heap against the wall. Josh whimpers and shakes like a leaf. Your hands are balled into white-knuckled fists.

...but the silence prevails. The kicking is over. Michael is gone.

Travis is the first to shake off the thick stupor.

“We have to move.” He says, gripping his knife. “He’s just coming around the back. We have to move.”

Wendy sobs in pain as Travis dips down and scoops her up beneath her armpit, dragging her hastily to her feet.

You run again—not alone this time, you think, but as a herd, a herd of terrified animals, barreling through the blackness as fast as Wendy’s injured ankle will allow.

Josh has a breakdown as you run.

“He was in there that whole time.” He keeps repeating, a skipping record-player. “That whole goddamned time, he was just watching us that whole goddamned time.”

“Stop it.” Travis pants between deep, gasping breaths. “Just stop it. I can’t take that anymore. He can’t catch up. We’re gonna be fine. As long as we just. Keep moving.”

All at once there is no more hallway. You’ve reached the end. You double over in a pant, planting your hands on your knees.

Travis was right—there is a door here. Diane shines her flashlight up at it, illuminating the glass pane, and through it you can see the hallway on the other side. Your eyes go wide in recognition.

There, beyond the door, down the hallway, you can see your car, and the pale moonlight filtering in. Your heart leaps into your throat. You can see the exit. Then, you look a little harder and your heart sinks again.

On the other side of the door a blockade of desks and chairs is piled high, a cruel barricade.

Travis shrugs Wendy onto her own two feet, who grimaces as her ankle grazes the floor. He lunges for the door handle, pulling back and forth savagely, as hard as he can.

There’s no give.

He pounds his flashlight hard against the glass in frustration.

“Fuck!” He shouts, his hot breath fogging over the glass. “Fuck! This wasn’t here last time! Fuck!”

“Are we stuck?” Wendy sobs.

“Most of the classrooms have two entrances, don’t they?” Diane asks. “There are open hallways on the other sides of all these rooms, right? Travis, isn’t that right? We can cross through one! They can’t all be blocked!”

Travis locks his hands together on top of his head, shaking it profusely.

“No, no. Most of the classrooms are locked up.”

“Wait.” Josh’s voice trembles, hoarse from crying. “Wait, I think I saw an open one.” He jerks his thumb into the blackness behind you.

“Back there.”

Josh is right; you saw it too. It was a blur, it happened so fast, but yes, you’re sure of it—one of the classrooms had been wide-open.

“You think?” Travis asks. “Or you know? Because “think” isn’t gonna cut it right now, man!”

“He’s right.” You interject. “I saw it too. It’s maybe three-hundred feet back.”

Travis looks from Josh to you. Then back at Josh.

“You guys are positive? Totally positive?”

Both of you nod.

“Okay. Okay, let’s move.”

Wendy, supporting herself against the wall, utters a thin little cry, as if the thought of that is too unbearable to even imagine.

“No! We can’t go back that way! He’s down that way!”

Travis ignores her as he scoops her up beneath her armpit again.

“Jesus Wendy, look around! We’re trapped if we stay here!”

Wendy blubbers in response, her face a red, snotty mess. But it is enough to get her moving.

Your dash back down the hallway is even madder. The flashlights swing about the hall, strobing in the dimness. Your lizard-brain screams obscenities at you as you run.

Predator this way, danger this way, wrong way, turn around, turn around!

You shove each and every one of them aside. Just run.

“There!” Diane yells, jamming a finger out in front of her. Twenty paces ahead, to the right of the corridor, sure enough, there it is.

One classroom door is wide open.

You reach it. Immediately you notice what you hadn’t in your dash up the corridor: the door isn’t just open, it’s ruined.

The shabby thing hangs uselessly on its hinges. The metal all around its frame is twisted and warped. A dreadful feeling settles like a suffocating blanket.

This isn’t right.

“Woah, careful.” Diane says, shining her flashlight into the room. Peering cautiously inside, you know in an instant that it’s some kind of science classroom. The black lab countertops are covered now in a thick blanket of dust. Chairs and upturned desks are strewn about the ground like warzone debris, their metal legs jutting out like bayonetts at every angle.

“Take it slow.”

Travis shuffles into the room first with Wendy attached at his hip, helping her step carefully around the minefield.

“Travis?” You ask after him in a breathy pant, still hovering at the edge of the room.

“What.” He says flatly, out of breath himself.

“All that shit blocking the door back there, none of that was here last time?”

“No, it wasn’t. Can we focus please?”

You ignore him, the gears in your head cranking.

“Okay, okay. So there’s only one hall that still leads to the exit? And it’s on the other side of this classroom?”

Travis has already crossed half the room. Josh and Diane follow close behind, trailing at his heels like ducklings.

“Yeah,” He calls back over his shoulder. “Look, I’ll tell you all you want about this place as soon as we’re ten goddamn miles away, now are you coming or not?”

No, this isn’t right. None of it is. The barricaded door is not right. The broken lock just isn’t right, dammit, it's too convenient. Too…

Oh. Oh. Ice water floods your gut.

It’s too deliberate.

The pieces fall into place.

This is Michael’s doing. All of it. He’s been to this building before. He’s been tampering with it.

This classroom is not a lucky break, not even close—it’s a choke-point. An ambush.

It’s a trap.

You open your mouth to scream. Travis and Wendy step through the doorway at the opposite side of the hall.

Out of the shadows, the black shape lunges.

You watch the ambush from the opposite side of the room, a useless, frozen statue.

Michael’s knife catches the beams of the flashlights and the gore there gleams. He swings it in a powerful arc through the air at Wendy. Denim rips harshly.

With a piercing scream Wendy falls forward into the hall. Travis sprawls backwards into the classroom, unbalanced himself, but springs up again like a cat, pulling his knife from his ankle-holster as he stands, lunging at Michael, swinging blindly.

Michael’s hand strikes faster than a cobra. He catches Travis by the wrist and shoves him with ghastly strength. Travis flies backwards, skidding on the floor, his head colliding with the nearest desk in a heavy thud.

Michael’s bloodied hand closes around the doorknob. He yanks down on it savagely. The knob strains for a moment—the metal around it whining and groaning—then snaps clean off. His red fingers grip the side of the door, and with a lunging step back into the hallway, he slams it shut behind him.

On the other side, Wendy screams hideously.

Travis is on his feet again now, scrabbling madly at the door, trying to pry his fingers between the metal frame to wedge it open. It won’t.

He pounds his fist hard on the glass and yells,

“Run Wendy! Just run!”

You watch through the glass as Wendy clambers painfully to her feet, limping away from Michael.

Michael, vanishing back into the blackness, takes the chase.

Travis begins a mad dash back out of the room. He leaps over table legs and pushes past you in a blitz, erupting into the hall.

“This way!” He screams behind him, already sprinting. “Come on!”

Josh and Diane lap at his heels. You follow orders as blindly as a soldier in a warzone.

Travis takes a sudden right, skidding around a corner. Then, windmilling his arms to stop his momentum, you see him screech to a halt. As you catch up, you can see why.

It’s an intersection.

“Which way?” Diane gasps, doubled-over in a pant.

Josh points his flashlight at the floor.

“Fuck. Oh fuck.”

You follow the light of his beam and see the blood, a shuddery trail of heavy droplets. Wendy’s.

Travis flicks his light down the corridor to your left. On the wall is a sign that reads “POOL” in big blue letters.

“Down here!”

Travis is off again, following alongside the bloody trail like a hound. Diane bounds after him.

Josh does not. He stands frozen in place, his chest heaving rapidly with lack of breath, gazing down the hall after the retreating figures. He glances at you. You make eye contact for a split-second.

Josh turns on his heel and starts sprinting away in the direction you just came. His footsteps get fainter. Then they are gone.

In an instant, you are alone again. All alone in the dark. Alone and rooted in place. Your feet won’t move.

Get out, says the lizard-brain. Get out now while he’s distracted, run back to your car, drive away into the night, keep driving for a long time, don’t ever look back, live in a new state, run away from him, survive, survive, survive.

A tightness blossoms in your throat. You feel about to cry again. You can’t leave; you couldn’t even if you wanted to. This place is a labyrinth in the dark and you do not have a flashlight. If you dash back into those barren halls, you will be blind again. Stumbling and helpless again. Easy prey.

Travis knows the building. Travis is your only chance at escape. Travis is your single hope of living to see the sun come up. The lizard-brain considers these possibilities, ignoring the defeatist chanting of your rational brain <no point all over Michael is going to kill you> turning them over and over, before demanding all at once that you un-stick your feet and dash after the lights bobbing down the hall.

Run, now. Before they fade into the black, gone. Run. Go.

You turn on your heel and run like hell.

For every ten limping strides she takes, Wendy’s next step is a stumble.

She sprawls on the floor and skins one knee bloody.

She gets up again, but oh God, her hip is on fire. Ahead of her is swallowing black nothingness and behind her is death. Every gulping wheezing breath sucks stale moldy air into her lungs but she’s too numbly frightened to care.

The pounding footsteps echo behind, and oh, please no, he’s still coming. Her body is strong and her legs are thick and powerful from a lifetime of athletics, but the pain, she can’t take it. The painful thudding in her ankle will not bear weight.

Why is he still walking? Why won’t he just catch up? She’s sure that he could if he wanted to.

Is this another game?

Now she sees a faint light up ahead, seeping through a door. She swerves left across the hall, falling as she leaves the support of the wall, crying sharply as she falls, picking herself up again in a flurry of arms and legs—she pushes through the doors.

Beyond them is a pool. A big bright moon dances on the surface of the stagnant black water. She looks up. There, she sees the stars. The building has a glass roof. She takes a gulp of air and gets a whiff of a dank, sour smell, so much worse than the hallway. Rancid.

Limping forward again, she moves quickly to the nearest door in the wall. Reaching the door, she yanks on the handle and steps through, and—

Oh, why her? What did she ever do to deserve this?

It’s not another room at all. It’s a stairwell.

Behind her, the doors clamor violently open. Her head whips around. At the sight of him, she is nearly frozen in place—that black looming silhouette, the hideous white face—this is a nightmare, Wendy thinks, it must be, because boogeymen aren’t real.

Doesn’t matter, the nightmare is getting closer. She shakes off her daze and begins to climb.

The stairs are steep and she winces hard at every slam of her foot down on the cement steps. Up one flight she goes, around the sharp bend, up another. Her busted ankle knocks against the cement which triggers an explosion of pain up her leg. Her hands are cold and clammy now, just as clammy as the railing. She is pulling herself more than climbing. Below her, she hears his boots on the steps, climbing after her.

She’s reached the top, and here is another door. She collapses through it.

She must have done something really terrible in a past life, she thinks, staring out at the space behind the door. She must have done something downright wicked to deserve this. God must be punishing her for it.

It’s just the stadium seating above the pool. Three meager rows of three bleachers and a rusty metal handrail. No other way down, except over the edge. She’s trapped herself.

Oh, but she has to keep moving. He’s coming up the last flight.

She huddles into the far corner and presses flat against the handrail. Leaning on the cold metal with her hip, it stings her bloodied skin like dry ice. She turns around, eyes rotating wildly, and watches the dark figure stepping out through the door.

Death stares her in the eyes, towering and faceless.

The Shape approaches.

Ten seconds behind Travis and Diane, you erupt into the pool building. Inside they stand fixed in their places, gawking up at some unseen thing.

Joining them, you see what they are gawking at. You gawk too.

Jutting out from the wall above the pool is a platform with rows of seats. Cowering at the far corner of that platform, gripping the railings, dread setting her face like a stiff, pale, gaping corpse, is Wendy.

Michael is closing in fast.

Travis and Diane scream at her to jump. Jump into the pool, they yell, in desperate chorus.

Wendy looks frantically over the railing—the drop must be thirty feet. But they are right; it is her only chance. Michael will be on top of her in seconds.

You watch in cold horror as Wendy scrambles desperately up the side of the railing, rising to a stand on the top bar, preparing to jump—

—she slips. Her foot slips on her own blood. The railing is covered in it.

Her hands fly open and snap shut again, grabbing at the air, scrabbling for purchase at nothing. Diane utters a sharp scream of surprise.

Wendy plummets like a stone; straight down to the cement.

The crack is sickening. You see a piece of bone erupt through her shin. Your jaw is slack and your eyes are round. Her wails are agony. She writhes on the cement and you can’t look away. You wait for Travis to go to her, to do something.

He doesn’t. He’s white as a sheet.

From the stadium above, Michael peers over the railing at Wendy. He watches her for a moment as if inhaling her fear. Devouring it. Then he turns, disappearing back down the stairwell.

He reappears at the bottom of the steps to stalk slowly toward Wendy.

Wendy sobs and screams as he approaches; she tries to crawl away from him, still trying to reach the pool. You can almost hear her fingernails scraping over the cement, the meaty squishing of her ruined leg dragging awkwardly, uselessly behind her.

You are about to see it, you realize all at once—you are about to witness with your own two eyes just what kind of monster Michael is.

Michael reaches Wendy and his shadow consumes her. Stooping down, he seizes Wendy by her hair and sweeps her with ghastly ease to her knees.

The world around you has melded into a dizzy haze and you feel like you are underwater. You can see—but not hear—that Wendy’s mouth is moving, begging and screaming. There is a grotesque moment where Michael lets her scream, and you think that the world has stopped turning and frozen on its axis. It is just Michael and Wendy, now; just the monster you despise and fear <and love and need>;

and the girl he is about to slaughter.

The world starts turning again as Michael plunges the knife through Wendy’s throat.

The steel erupts out her skin on the other side along with a geyser of blood. Wendy gurgles and bubbles, coughing, but not really, it can’t even be called that anymore; it is a wet meaty wheeze, a deathrattle.

The light is gone from her eyes as she falls limp.

Michael pushes the back of her head hard. He shoves her carelessly forward. She slides easily off his knife, collapsing. The red spreads quickly out around her on the cement.

Michael studies his kill. His shoulders rise and fall slowly, inhumanly steadily. Fresh glistening red drips off the tips of his fingers as easily as water.

Suddenly, he turns. His white visage peers across the room. Your heart pumps away in your throat at a hideous speed.

Michael is looking at you. Not at Travis. Not at Diane. You.

The mask is hideously penetrating, devouring. You watch him back and your mind is silent. Your body is paralyzed. You wait for something within you to change—perhaps for the hole in your chest, the hole that needs Michael, to knit suddenly shut. You wait, and drink in the evil staring back at you, the dark shape that looks human, but on some level is not.

There is no change.

With a broken, savage scream, Travis shatters the silence.

Michael’s head turns. When his eyes are gone from you, you start to breathe again. He seems to study Travis intently, observing the outburst as if transfixed, fascinated.

Almost contemplatively, Michael looks back down at Wendy’s body on the floor.

Then, lifting his boot, he wedges it beneath her side.

You look on in stunned silence as Michael kicks Wendy’s lifeless body over. Rolling her closer to the pool.

It is obvious to you what he is doing, bitterly obvious. You’ve been on the receiving end of that behavior more times than you can count. It is sport, yes; play, yes; but it is not just play. What Michael is doing is far, far more heartless, far more deliberately, calculatedly cruel—

—this is taunting.

This is rubbing salt in an open wound. This is pettiness for pettiness’ sake. Michael is taunting Travis like a schoolyard bully.

And Travis takes the bait hook, line and sinker.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING TOUCH HER! I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU! DON’T YOU DARE FUCKING TOUCH HER!”

Deaf to his screams—or more likely saturating himself with them—Michael does it again. He shoves his boot beneath Wendy’s back this time, disgustingly gentle, as if she were a glass figurine, and flips her on her stomach. He flips her again, onto her back. Again, onto her stomach.

He rolls her to the lip of the pool, and Travis only rages harder.

Wendy’s body teeters on the cement ledge. Her arm flops limply down, wrist dangling in the murky water. Michael, planting his boot down on her side, lifts his head again. The awful white mask peers across the way at Travis—screaming, raging Travis—who shreds his voice raw with every spitty syllable.

With a final, lazy flick of his boot, Michael sends Wendy spilling over into the filthy water.

The body lands with a plop and a splash. It bobs for a moment, sinking then, slipping beneath the grime, gone, except for the ripples spreading out, disturbing the stagnant surface.

In Michael’s hideous stare, you can feel his wordless goading.

“Look; she made it.”

Travis collapses to a heap on his knees and beats the cement.

Michael watches intently. A shudder travels the length of your body—even without seeing his eyes, you know that look. It is vicious predatory amusement.

Then, all at once, as if compelled by some invisible force, Michael’s head whips around. Glancing over his shoulder, he goes rigidly still.

Your jaw clenches up tight. He’s heard something. He’s listening, picking up a fresh scent.

As if forgetting about Travis in an instant, Michael turns. You watch the dark figure stalk around the side of the pool, disappearing through the doors at the opposite end. Gone again.

Travis rages. He screams at Michael to come back, because he is going to kill him. He screams all sorts of obscenities and his voice has begun to crack. Diane watches, hugging herself tightly, crying without sound.

Eventually, his screaming peeters out. Travis falls into silence, spent.

Nobody moves for a while. You watch the ripples in the water until they stop. All is still and quiet again.

Diane looks up at you. Her cheeks are streaked with tears. She looks at you longer, and something changes in her eyes, some jarring realization; then, with huge and frightened eyes, she looks past you, out into the hall, and glances all around her.

“Travis?” She says, the panic rising in her voice.

“Where’s Josh?”

#michael myers #michael myers x reader #slashers #writing #horror #fanfiction #slasher x reader #halloween #end of the line

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itzagothamcitysiren · 4 years

Text

Welcome to the Family

here’s the final part for my mother’s day special :) I hope you all had a good day and enjoyed this.

Mother’s Day pt. 3

“So how is it?”

Damian lifted his head, after taking another bite of his burger, chewing before answering his sister with a curt nod. The burger was delicious, greasy, and unimaginably unhealthy; their mother would slit their throats if she saw what they were eating. Outstretched before them was a spread of milkshakes, fries, chicken tenders and each their own oversized burger. Damian had never been to Bat-Burger, and was hesitant but his sister insisted it was good and she, Dick and Tim found the whole gimmick ironic and hilarious; they often frequented the food chain ordering each meal named after themselves.

“The milkshakes are surprisingly the best around.” She continued, sipping the milkshake named after herself, trying to find something to get him to talk to her. Ever since they left her office he maybe only spoke a handful of words, agreeing to go get food, ordering his food and muttering a thanks when she paid.

“Even the Night-wings are really good, it gets to Dick’s ego.” She pressed, chuckling. Frowning for a split second, she quickly covered it with a smile. But Damian caught it though, and took another bite of his burger to hide his guilt as she continued to talk. “So what’s new with you?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged. It was the truth, he didn’t do much besides patrol and she knew that. He didn’t have hobbies besides reading and training. Damian wasn’t in school; he was ‘home schooled’ after trying for a year and it just not working. Bruce thought getting Jason through Gotham Academy was rough but according to Damian he was above prep school.

He stopped eating his burger when he felt a sudden shift in his sister. Even she was thrown off by it. Maybe it was from lack of sleep or the hunger from not eating since dinner last night, if you could consider a bag of chips dinner. Maybe Bat-Burger wasn’t the best choice to start with. But she thought-, she hoped this place would let Damian loosen up. Even Bruce managed to crack a small smile when entering this place. Shaking her head she pushed her burger away from her, placing her head in her hands, frustrated. Damian slowly put his food down as well, letting his hands fall to his sides, anxiously clenching them into fists. She was gonna give up on him, he knew it. Coming here was a mistake.

“Sister-,”

“Halley.” She corrected, looking up from her hands. “My name is Halley. Yes I am your sister, but you don’t have to be so formal about it all the time.” She snapped, instantly regretting it. She promised to herself long ago to never lose her cool with Damian, but he was just so frustrating. “Why did you come to my office today Damian? It crossed my mind that you might’ve been jealous earlier about me making plans with Tim and not inviting you but whenever I do invite you places you just scoff at me. And I just didn’t see you being the jealous type, but then again I don’t really know you. Then you showed up today and I thought you actually wanted to, I don’t know? Do something together? But I feel like I’m the only one wanting to be here.”

“Tt.” Damian crossed his arms, huffing. “I am not jealous of Drake.”

“Tt.” Halley matched his stance, crossing her arms against her own chest and leaned back into her seat. “Okay if you’re not jealous of him, then why are we here?”

Damian was speechless for a moment. Normally, this conversation would play out differently. Normally, after insulting Tim, Halley would then shoot into reasons why Damian should give Tim a chance, and that he was actually really nice. She’d never call him out like that, always not wanting to push him away or giving him a chance to get angry at the conversation and leave. It took Damian a few seconds longer than he’d like to admit to think of a retort.

“I figured since you have these outings with everyone and they praise them, I should finally figure out what all the fuss is about. And so far I’m not impressed.” He snapped right back, showing the same sass that ran on their shared side of the family.

Raising her own eyebrow, Halley snorted, reaching for her shake and taking a long sip before putting it back down and pointing a finger at her little brother. “Of course you’re not impressed. When me and the guys hang out we actually have conversations. Dick’s my best friend, we actually want to know what’s going on in each other’s lives; we shoot the shit, whatever you wanna call it. And Tim, Tim tries; he’s always reaching out and making sure I’m not overworking and taking care of myself and I do the same for him. We care about each other.” Halley took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“With you,” she continues trying to soften her voice, not realizing she sounded as if she was in work mode and could see Damian trying to hide his nervousness. “With you, it’s like I’m talking to a wall, a very thick wall. I’ve tried since day one Damian; I’ve tried to build a relationship with you but I don’t know what else to do. I’ve stuck up for you when everyone else didn’t and I’ve vouched for you. I was there when Bruce went missing, and I believed you with all that Talon nonsense, and I just get nothing in return besides insults. I don’t want much, I’m your sister and I’m just tired of trying if you really don’t care.”

Damian bit his lip, unpacking every word that his sister spoke. He knew her frustrations. His father and Grayson had the same, as he was constantly reminding himself of. He just wasn’t sure how to open up to her. He wasn’t even sure how she opened up when she moved into the manor. He wanted to ask her but he was just so afraid to open his mouth and talk to her for unknown reasons. He looked at her sad eyes as she spoke, feeling guilt from the years blocking her out finally being too much to keep in. Damian didn’t know how he would start but he licked his lips, finally figuring it was now or never to start trying back.

“How did you adjust so well? It’s been two years and I-,” Damian paused already embarrassed for oversharing.

Halley softened her stance. That was the most serious but personal question Damian had ever asked her. She smiled before opening her mouth to answer him. “I had people who cared. Like you do, even if you don’t see it.”

She’s been thirteen, Damian’s age now when Dick saved her from her father. It wasn’t until Damian came along and she had to face her father again for the first time in years did Slade reveal that she was also part al Ghul. She learned what would’ve been her life if it wasn’t for Dick. At the time Slade had been part of the League of Assassins, and was one of Ra’s al Ghul right hands. The plan at the time was for Slade and Talia to give him a new heir, with the pair bringing Halley into the world. When she could walk and talk it was agreed that Slade would take her into the world to train; at the time thinking that field training would be the most officiant. When Slade thought she was ready, she’d be brought back to the League, but that was ruined when she escaped and joined the batfamily. She was his ticket in taking over the League, and he hadn’t taken her ruining it for him easily.

“Dick took me in after saving me from Slade. He’d beat the shit out of me if I just sneezed wrong. He was an abusive fuck, but I was used to it. He drilled into my brain that I wasn’t good enough and I deserved the things he did to me. They would make me stronger. He made me just like you, untrusting and closed off. But Dick and the Titans eventually taught me that not everyone is an asshole. And when Bruce let me move to the manor and take his last name and gave me a home and a good life, I was-, well I just put my trust into them and I’m glad I did.” Halley shrugged, images of her time with Slade flashing through her eyes like a bad movie. Clearing her throat again, blinking away the tears that were forming, she looked back at the boy looking up at her with a soft expression.

“And Jay, helped me a lot. He helped me adjust to things. He- he was great.” She looked down at her food, letting a finger brush a stray tear away. Cursing, for showing weakness in front of her little brother who already judged her every move, she coughed, straitening herself out.

“I don’t want you to be like Dick or Tim, or Jason.” She continued, knowing he’d have nothing to say from where she left off. “I just want you to be Damian and I want us to have a relationship that makes you comfortable and makes you feel safe. So if going to stupid burger joints isn’t your thing, that’s fine. We can go to a fine dining restaurant if you want for all I care. And you don’t have to feel like you have to get me mothers day’s presents, that’s not your thing. I totally understand and don’t expect it to be.” She waved off, moving back to bite into her burger, trying to defuse the tension some more.

Damian still kept his straight face. He knew the basics about his sister but not all details. He knew she was Slade’s apprentice, but he just figured she was a traitor and chose to leave. Her joining his father was what made Slade lose his good graces with his grandfather. It was the whole reason why Slade attacked the League of Assassin’s base years later, killing Ra’s al Ghul and leading Damian to meeting his father. He gulped, letting his face fall a little, in comfort.

“I don’t mind this place.” He nodded, going back to bite into his burger as well, while also grabbing another Night-wing, wishing the chicken tender was called something else. “And-and, I wouldn’t even know what to get you or what kind of card to make. Though I did tell Drake your favorite color was purple. Tt, imbecile was going to make the letters red.”

“You remembered my favorite color?” Halley awed at him, causing him to pout, embarrassed. “You just remembering my favorite color makes me happy enough.”

“That’s silly,” He squinted at her. Grayson turned her into such a sap.

“Yeah, well I think it’s cute.” She huffed, moving back to her milkshake. She looked up at him as she sipped, “So after this, what does Damian Wayne want to do today? I assume movies and arcade are boring to you.”

“You assume correct.” He nodded in agreement. He took a second to ponder her question, not quite ready to go home after this. He didn’t really know at first, until one specific place popped up in his head. He’d yet to visit one, but had read about them and was curious, you could say. He was too afraid to ask his father and not ready for Grayson’s reaction; there was no one better than Halley to ask to take him. With a stern face he looked up at her, “I would like to go to the zoo.”

“The zoo?” Halley questioned. She mentally slapped herself when she saw him begin to crawl into himself again, she outreached a hand to him, “No, no, no! I just didn’t think you’d want to. I love the zoo; I used to beg Jay to go with me all the time, but he thought they were boring and smelly,” She chuckled fondly at the memory. “But the Gotham Zoo is surprisingly nice.” She said looking down at her phone for the time. “We have time if we finish this on our way there, they don’t close for another four hours or so.” Halley said, now excitedly packing up the trash and figuring out what was good enough to eat during the walk over to the zoo.

Damian felt that same pang in his chest from earlier but this time it didn’t make him nervous. Instead he felt content, happy even? He didn’t feel as if this whole idea was a disaster and for once actually felt a touch of excitement. Gathering his belongings he then proceeded to ask questions about what kind of animals they have at a zoo, and other things, like can you pet them, etc. Halley eagerly answered all of them, asking her own like what his favorite animal was and stuff like that.

The rest of the afternoon went by way to quick and soon Halley was in a cab making sure Damian got home okay, even with him reassuring her if he could get to her office without her he could get home. She simply waved him off, and gave him a playful shove as the cab pulled up to the manor. Her smile almost hurt when he turned to her as he stood out of the cab and said that he hoped they could do this again sometime.

Within the next hour, she found herself stomping up her apartment, not in anger but in pure delight. She couldn’t believe today actually happened. After two years she actually made progress with Damian. Opening the door to her apartment, she dropped her bag and plopped the keys onto the kitchen counter, she could have even sworn she saw him smile at least one today.

She walked into her kitchen, grabbing a water bottle, closing the fridge and looking at the pictures she had hanging on her fridge. Taking a second she leaned against the counter, taking them all in. This year’s mother’s day card from Tim hung near a picture of the two of them from his second birthday at the Manor, it’s been his sixteenth. She’d taken him to an arcade and the pair had spent all day building up their tickets so Tim could get some replica sword. She smirked at the picture where instead of the sword, he decided on getting her a giant stuff pug as a thank you for spending all day with him. In it she held onto it tightly, the thing was so fluffy and cute as Tim smiled into the camera widely. She still had the thing on her bed, she chuckled.

Next to that one was a picture of her and Dick, from her own sixteenth birthday where he insisted on throwing her a giant pool party, inviting all of the Titans and batfamily. He stood hosting her up on his shoulders, as if she was a prize. It was only moments after the phot was taken did he throw her into the pool, only for her to furiously chase him for revenge. Alfred had taken another photo from that stood next to it of her getting said revenge by smashing a piece of cake in Dick’s face, Bruce seen in the background with a disapproving look.

Along with those she let her eyes fall to last set of photos on the fridge, feeling the water works already starting. The anniversary of Jason’s death hit her harder this year. Every year it’d been hard, but the pressure of graduating, keeping up with her nightly activities and the nightmare that was her mother kidnapping and brainwashing Bruce, the day just crept up on her and she didn’t have time to prepare herself.

Sighing as she looked at the first photo they took together, she just let the tears fall, knowing she’d only feel worse keeping them in. They’d snuck out on their first date, having kept their relationship a secret, afraid Bruce wouldn’t allow it because they lived right across the hall from each other. It wasn’t until Jason died did Bruce tell he knew from the beginning. She chuckled at the photo, taking it off the fridge too look at it closely.

It was just a simple movie date but she remembered being so nervous the entire time. She felt her heart nearly beat out of her chest when he made the first move and clumsily placed his arm around her shoulders twenty minutes into the movie. It took another twenty minutes until she found the courage to lean her head on his shoulder. She’d blushed the brightest when the movie ended and he grabbed her hand and held it as they walked out. He called her a dork, seeing her blush, causing her to blush harder. He’d snapped the photo shortly after, saying she looked cute when she was frazzled. She defiantly looked frazzled in the photo while he sneaked a kiss on her cheek.

The second photo of the pair had been of the pair a couple of weeks before he had died. They were just about to graduate High School, and where going to prom together. Bruce insisted they should go, so they told Bruce they were going together because everyone else was lame. She’d actually had fun for the short amount of time that they actually stood at the prom. They quickly snuck out, taking Jason’s car to go get Chinese take-out and parking off somewhere and stuffing their faces.

Clipping the photo back onto the fridge she sighed again, picking up her phone to look at the picture’s she snuck of Damian today. She held a hand to her lips as she looked them over. She couldn’t get any of the pair together without him seeing her but it was okay. She got him in the petting zoo, a blank face, but you could see that he was content as he pet a goat, and then a llama. She laughed thinking about how enthralled he was by the farm animals. He found the more exotic animals interesting but for whatever reason the farm animals really caught his interest.

She looked at the top of her phone, seeing a notification from Tim. Clicking on it, she noted how she had to get those pictures printed so she could put them in place with the others. Now reading the text from her brother, she could stop the snort that escaped her nose. Oh Damian,

“Why is Damian demanding Bruce get him a pet cow?”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x oc #damian wayne x sister!reader #damian wayne #damian wayne fanfiction #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #tim drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake fanfic #tim drake imagine #dick grayson #dick grayson x sister!reader #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne x reader #deathstroke daughter

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years

Text

facing it alone ~ 10k;z nation

word count: 2537

request?: yes!

@colsondaddybakerxx “Yeah.. is it okay if you use my name? It’s Alison (it’s okay if you can’t) and she spent mostly all of the apocalypse alone but then she runs into the crew (basically the main characters in z nation) and they helped her and toke her in, then she Mets 10k.. at first he really shy but when he opens up to her she realizes they both have a lot in common?? And he very very protective over her, making sure no zombies is even close to her and protecting her mostly all the time.. and eventually he asks her out? Pls try and add some zombie scenes haha x also if it’s to hard to get all the crew in the story it’s okay.. just at least add doc and warren xx”

description: after facing the zombie apocalypse alone for some time, alison ends up running into some survivors, and finds herself bonding with the youngest of the crew

pairing: 10k x female!reader

warnings: swearing, violence, mentions of death

masterlist

Facing the zombie apocalypse alone was much easier than having to face it with people. Being with people was just asking for heartbreak. Eventually they would die, whether it be of old age or other causes, and then they’d turn into a zombie and have to be mercied before they turned completely. Too much emotion, that’s the last thing you wanted during the apocalypse.

That’s why I travelled alone, except for the German Sheppard I found not too long after I started travelling alone. He was the only companionship I really needed, plus I managed to train him to detect when Zs were coming and to be able to fight against them himself.

It had been days since our last meal, and since we last found decent shelter, and I could tell both of us were starting to feel it. I hadn’t slept in days, I only had a few small foods that I was had to share with Hunter and they were starting to become scarce. I had no idea when we’d find another place to stay, or when we’d find food. For the first time in a very long time, I was genuinely afraid that things were going to end for me soon.

Hunter stopped suddenly and started to growl. Without hesitation, I positioned my gun to point towards where Hunter was looking. I waited to hear the familiar growling of a Z and to see one starting to approach, however I was shocked when I saw that it wasn’t a Z, but a totally healthy human, also with a gun raised and pointed at me.

“Hey!” came a female voice. “Are you bitten or otherwise unhealthy?”

“No ma’am!” I responded. “Yourself?”

“Not that I know of.”

I slowly started to lower my weapon. Hunter was still on high alert, although now he wasn’t growing at much. “Go check her out, boy, make sure she’s not dangerous.”

Hunter approached the woman slowly, knowing not to fully charge at a human unless he wanted a first class ticket to Dog Z-dom. She lowered her gun as well as she saw him approaching. As if knowing what he was about to do, she put her hand out and allowed Hunter to sniff her, before giving him a brief scratch behind his ear. That was the number one way to get on Hunter’s good side.

As if to tell me everything was fine, Hunter barked. “Yeah, yeah, I see you getting the best petting of your life, I’m coming.”

I was still cautious as I approached the woman, and she seemed to be as well.

“Lieutenant Roberta Warren,” she said, holding a hand out to me.

“Alison,” I responded, shaking her hand. “And this is Hunter.”

Hunter barked when he heard his name. Roberta smiled at him, petting his head again. “Nice to meet the two of you. Are you travelling alone?”

“Yes ma’am,” I responded. “Just the two of us for at least a year now. What about you?”

“There’s an...accidental team of us,” she responded. “Eight of us as of right now, travelling in a truck back that way.” My stomach chose that moment to make a loud noise, giving away my dire hunger. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Couple days now. We have snacks, but it’s not a lot.”

“You wanna come with us? We’ve recently gotten some food, and we’re looking for shelter for the night. What’s a ninth person, and they’re adorable dog.”

I looked down at Hunter. He looked up at me excitedly. Although I was sure he didn’t understand the situation that much, he definitely understood the words “we have food”, and he understood that he, too, was hungry.

What other choice did I have? Besides starve to death and become a Z. I sighed heavily and placed my machine gun over my shoulder. “Show me the way.”

When Roberta said they had a small team, she really meant a small team. All eight of them were armed to the teeth with guns, knives, spikes, and more. It definitely made my lousy machine gun look obsolete.

“Guys,” Roberta announced, “meet Alison. She’ll be joining us for a while. Alison, this is Doc, Garnett, Addy, Mack, Cassandra, Murphy, and 10k.”

I raised an eyebrow at the younger guy that Roberta addressed last. “10k? Like...ten thousand? That’s...your name?”

He looked at me for a minute before looking down at the ground without a response. I raised an eyebrow at him, amused by the reaction.

“That’s his name, don’t wear it out,” the older man Roberta introduced as Doc spoke. “Nice to have you along with us, and your cute lil pooch.”

Hunter whined happily at the attention he was starting to get.

“Climb in,” Garnett told us, nodding towards the back of the truck. “We should keep moving.”

Everyone got into the truck. I jumped into the pan and whistled for Hunter to join me. He jumped in effortlessly and laid between myself and 10k, resting his head on 10k’s lap. 10k looked startled at first until I laughed at his expression.

“Unless you’re a Z he’s harmless,” I assured him. “You can pet him if you want.”

10k tentatively put his hand on Hunter’s head. Hunter poked 10k’s head with his nose and gave him a quick lick before resting himself comfortably on 10k’s lap. I watched 10k relax and smile as he began to scratch behind Hunter’s ear. I couldn’t help but smile myself, but quickly pretended that it had never happened.

I couldn’t let myself get too close. Once I’ve eaten and gotten some shelter, it would be time to go again. I couldn’t stay around, I couldn’t get attached. Not again.

~~~~~~

We found a lovely house that seemed to belong to a big family once upon a time. It was Z free and had enough space for everyone to be able to sleep comfortably.

Despite finally having a safe place for a night, I found myself unable to sleep. So instead of lying on the floor and keeping up all night, I decided to go outside to get a breath of fresh air. I had taken a room on the second floor of the house, so I opened the window and reached out to take hold of the roof, pulling myself up with ease.

I exclaimed with shock when I saw that I wasn't the only one with this idea. My sudden appearance also shocked 10k, as he jumped and nearly dropped his gun.

“Sorry,” I said. “Didn’t know anyone else was up here. Mind if I join you?”

“You’re already here, I feel like it’d be rude of me to say no now,” he responded.

I chuckled. “I guess you have a point.”

I pulled myself up onto the roof and settled myself next to him. Although he seemed relatively relaxed, 10k still held on to his gun as if his life depended on it. In some ways, I guess it did.

“Why do they call you 10k?” I asked as I laid back on the roof, looking up at the starry night.

“I called myself that, actually,” he told me. “It’s a nickname I came up with when everything started.”

“What’s the meaning of it?”

“It’s how many Zs I’m gonna kill.”

“And what’s your total at now?”

He paused a moment to think before responding, “Two thousand, one hundred eleven.”

My eyes widened. “Holy shit! That’s impressive. What do you have, like, super accurate aim?”

“Basically. I rarely, if ever, miss.” I made a face, impressed by his accuracy. “Why do you travel alone? Were you with someone?”

My body tensed up at the question. Sure, it was innocent enough, and an obvious question to ask someone who had been travelling by themselves.

“I was...once,” I admitted. “A long time ago.”

“What happened to them?”

“It wasn’t a them, it was a him,” I responded. “An old friend of mine, we grew up together. When I was out looking for survivors, he was the only one I came across. We travelled together for months, we found Hunter together and trained him to be as he is. About a year ago, we were fighting some Zs and one...one bit him. Got him pretty good before I could shoot the fucker. We both knew I had to kill him, but neither of us wanted me to. Before I could get the courage to do it, he took my gun and mercy shot himself. It’s...just been me and Hunter ever since.”

10k looked at me with pity and sadness. I kept my eyes trained on the sky, but I could see him out of the corner of my eye.

“I’m sorry.”

I shook my head. “No, don’t be. It was a long time ago. I’ve gotten over it."

There was a stretch of silence between us. 10k raised his gun and a shot rang out. I sat up to see a Z falling as 10k cocked his gun.

“Two thousand, one hundred twelve,” he declared.

“Showoff,” I chuckled, bringing my knees to my chin.

“I had to kill my dad,” 10k said, surprising me suddenly. “It was just the two of us, too, and he started to turn. I was forced to mercy kill him, stabbed him through the head. I was alone until I met the people here, too. They’re nice, I prefer to travel with them than to travel alone.”

“They seem nice,” I agreed, although even I could hear the unease in my tone.

10k looked at me. “You’re...gonna stay with us, right? It’s safer to be in a pack.”

“Not if one of you die and become a Z, or if you have to kill someone,” I pointed out. But when I looked up at him, 10k looked kind of upset by my response, like he wanted me to stay. And there was just something about that look that made it hard to say no. “But...maybe it will be better for me and for Hunter if we stay for a while.”

His face lit up, and I couldn’t help but smile as well. The sound of Z groaning could be heard down belong. Luckily, it was only two Zs. I took 10k’s gun without hesitation and shot them both between the eyes with ease.

“I’d say that’s at least two thousand for me,” I noted, passing him his gun back. A smile crept across his face, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

~~~~~~

“A while” ended up becoming a few weeks, and a few weeks extended into a month, and before I knew it Hunter and I were welcomed into the team as if we had been one of their own all along. We constantly moved together, on the fast track to get to California with the hopes of coming up with a cure to the virus with the help of Murphy’s blood.

As to be expected, it wasn’t an easy task to get from point A to point B, but hey, what’s an adventure without some conflict?

After finding more shelter on one particular day, 10k and I were sent out to look for food and water as our supply was starting to get dangerously low again. As per usual, Hunter was right on my heels as we walked.

“Run ahead a little to check the area out, Hunt,” I told him. “But not too far that I can’t see you.”

He happily trotted along ahead of us, scoping out the area as he went.

“He’s pretty well trained,” 10k commented as he watched my faithful pal run ahead of us. “How did you do it?”

“Honestly, he sort of trained himself,” I admitted. “I mean, we fed him treats to praise him for being so good, but he figured out almost everything on his own; how to sense Zs, how to fight them, what we were asking him to do. Dogs are smarter than people think, you know.”

We were both quiet again for some time. Hunter circled back around to let me know he was still there before trotting off yet again.

10k’s arm almost shot out suddenly to stop me from walking before pointing his fun and shooting. He hit two Zs, with ease just as Hunter started barking furiously in front of us. The two of us raised our guns and started firing as the Zs came into view.

I noticed my pup waiting for instruction, so I brought my fingers to my lips and whistled, the signal to attack. In seconds, he was going after any Zs that were nearby, ripping them to shreds and mercying them.

While my guard was down, a Z managed to grab hold of me. I spun around, hitting them with my gun. Before I could shoot them, 10k finished them off. I looked over at him and offered him a small smile, which he returned.

When we finally finished with the Zs, I took my water bottle from my bag and poured some in a bowl for Hunter, who trotted over excitedly with Z blood still dripping from his muzzle.

“That was something,” I sighed. “Thanks for the save, by the way. I appreciate that. I definitely would’ve become Z chow if it weren’t for you.”

“I won’t let that happen,” he assured me. “I won’t even let you ever be changed.”

I looked up at 10k, my eyebrows furrowing together. “I know you won’t, and I appreciate that you have my back dude.”

10k looked down at the grass under his feet, now stained with Z blood as well. “I don’t just mean it like that, though.”

I tilted my head like a confused dog. “What do you mean?”

10k slung his gun over his shoulder and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I know this isn’t exactly the best scenario to ask this, and I totally understand if you say no, but I’d like to maybe...try and be in a relationship with you...if you want that is.”

He couldn’t meet my eyes after he said that. I looked at him for a long time, waiting for him to take it back. I thought maybe this was some dumb joke, maybe Murphy put him up to it in order to try and embarrass me. I wouldn’t put that past Murphy.

But 10k’s face said he really meant it. 10k was too nice of a person to do something like this, and was definitely awkward enough to act this way if he really meant it.

I took his face in my hands and pulled him for a kiss. He seemed taken back at first, like he was unsure of how to respond to such an action. But he soon warmed into it, placing his hands on my arms and leaning back into me.

I pushed him away after hearing Hunter bark at the two of us. I couldn’t help but giggle at 10k’s dreamy smile on his face.

“That’s a yes, by the way,” I told him as I put Hunter’s bowl back in my bag. “Now, let’s get going. We can’t have a relationship if we’re eaten by Zs.”

#10k #10k imagine #10k x reader #nat zang #nat zang imagine #nat zang x reader #z nation #z nation imagine #imagine #one shot #request

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

REUNITED 🖤 (Biadore) - Lemonade

Summary: Based on the recent Biadore reunion.

Roy looked for Danny in the sea of people bustling around the airport. They hadn’t agreed to meet, but it was an unspoken occurrence in their relationship. Whenever someone was coming home from a long tour, the other would be waiting for them to get off their flight with open arms.

Roy braced himself to be charged at with full speed at any moment. Since he couldn’t see Danny, he wouldn’t know exactly when to plant his feet firmly on the ground, and steady his balance to accommodate the koala hug he always came home to.

5 minutes… 10 minutes… 20 minutes…

Roy still stood in the same place waiting for Danny. He didn’t wanna move, or sit; Which would make it harder for Danny to find him.

Another ten minutes passed. Roy huffed, his patience wearing thin. He just wanted to see Danny and be back in his own apartment.

Roy pulled out his phone, shaking his head. “If this kid’s still asleep,” he mumbled under his breath, more with the fond annoyance he always had towards Danny rather than the actual aggravation he would feel towards anybody else.

Willow 🥰💕👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨💍

Are you at the airport?

Willow 🥰💕👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨💍

I don’t see you.

Dan ❤️💋

Nah

The one worded text from Danny let all the air out of Roy’s body. Danny always picked him up from the airport. He always had flowers, or a cute little gift for Roy. He always welcomed him back with a hug that recharged the life in Roy.

Roy couldn’t remember the last time he came home from tour without Danny’s one man welcoming committee. His mind had a hard time wrapping around the fact that Danny wasn’t gonna come running at him and—Fuck. Roy couldn’t believe he was crying over this.

Roy quickly wiped his eyes dry with the back of his hand. He ordered an Uber home, texting Danny a simple “K.” in response.

——

With help from someone who worked in the apartment complex Roy lived in, he got all of his luggage up to his apartment in one trip. He fumbled with the keys, missing the lock a few times. It was hard for Roy to do small tasks when he was upset, a disconnect happened between his brain and body.

The keys fell out of Roy’s grip once he pushed the door open. The small inconvenience almost made all of Roy’s pent up emotions blow until his fingers grazed a soft rose petal. He looked up, dozens of the rich red petal’s created a pathway to his bedroom. Roy let out a sigh of relief. He quickly drug the heavy suitcases into his apartment, tossing the keys on his kitchen counter.

The pathway into his bedroom lead to the bathroom. His face momentarily twisted in confusion until his need for Danny outweighed his want for convention.

Roy felt all the tension leave his muscles when he saw Danny standing in his bathroom, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a welcoming smile on his face. Roy grabbed Danny’s waist, pulling him in for a tight hug. Roy buried his face in Danny’s neck, finding comfort in the familiarity. Roy squeezed Danny impossibly closer, holding him like that for a while while their hug breathed new life into the both of them.

When Roy finally felt like he wouldn’t crumble if Danny let go he pulled away, pressing a kiss to Danny’s cheek. His fingers ran through Danny’s newly dark hair, their eyes focused on each other. “You dyed your hair?”

“Yeah, you like it?”

Roy smiled warmly, “You look like you again.”

Danny bit his lip, looking down as he blushed. Nobody made him feel the way Roy did.

“I’m happy to see you,” Roy brought Danny’s attention back to him. “I thought you were ditching me when you said you weren’t at the airport,” Roy chuckled the way he did when something actually hurt his feelings but he didn’t want to say it did.

Danny’s expression fell. “Oh, no, of course not! I missed you so much, Willow!” He chastely kissed Roy’s lips. “I just thought you’d be really exhausted when you came home so I wanted to have this ready for you,” Danny pulled back Roy’s shower curtain to reveal a bubble bath. “It’s warm and I put relaxing bath salts in it!” Danny beamed at him.

Roy smiled, laughing at himself now that he realized why Danny hadn’t picked him up. He really had to work on jumping to heartbreaking conclusions when it came to Danny—An unhealthy habit of Danny’s that Roy had managed to acquire overtime.

Danny handed Roy his flowers. The bouquet sparkled with accent gems & glitter that the florist must have sprayed on them. “They’re beautiful,” Roy said. Danny half expected Roy to make a comment about it being the gayest bouquet of flowers he had ever seen because—well they were. To his surprise, Roy didn’t bite. “I’m gonna put them in the bedroom,” Roy happily said as he still admired the pink flowers.

The last bouquet Danny had bought him withered while he was away. Before throwing them out he plucked one from the vase, putting it in the back of a heavy book. Roy always kept a flower from every bouquet he received. The ones from Danny were kept separate from the ones he got from friends and fans.

“C’mon baby, the water’s gonna get cold.” Danny called from the bathroom as Roy placed the vase on his nightstand.

“I like cold baths,” Roy said as he joined Danny.

“Ew,” Danny giggled, Roy pecked the tip of Danny’s nose, turning Danny into the embodiment of the 🥺 emoji.

“You’re cute,” Roy teased.

“You’re cute,” Danny returned, running his hands through Roy’s hair and giving the long locks a slight tug. God, he hoped Roy kept his hair that length.

Danny’s hands smoothed over Roy’s shoulders and arms, then down his sides until his fingertips were at the hem of Roy’s shirt. “I missed touching you,” Danny whispered in Roy’s ear, causing a shiver and a trail of goosebumps up his spine. Roy groaned. He knew this bath wouldn’t stay innocent for long.

Danny gently pulled Roy’s shirt over his head. He licked his lips as his eyes drank in the sight of Roy shirtless in front of him, his hands resting on Roy’s hips. “I promise to let you relax first,” Danny said more to remind himself than to ease Roy, who very clearly didn’t have a problem with either option.

Roy kicked off his shoes and socks before letting Danny unzip his pants. With one motion both jeans and boxers were on the floor. Danny didn’t look. If he looked, he’d have to taste. Danny really, really wanted Roy to enjoy his bath first.

With a helping hand from his love, Roy stepped into the tub, wasting no time sinking down into the warm water. Danny felt a sense of accomplishment when Roy’s eyes fell shut and he leaned his head back. “Good?”

“Good,” Roy hummed. He offered his hand to Danny, peaking at him through one eye. “C’mon, don’t make me take this bath alone.”

“It’s funny you thought I would.” Danny quickly stripped and put his hair in a messy bun so he could join Roy.

“Careful,” Roy advised as he guided Danny onto the slippery surface.

Danny sat facing Roy, moving closer to him until he could wrap his legs around Roy’s waist and his arms around his neck. Danny laid his head down on Roy’s shoulder, content with the position they found themselves in. “Comfy?” Danny asked, not wanting to put his own need for physical affection before Roy’s comfort.

“Mhm,” Roy hummed, his fingertips tracing patterns into Danny’s back. Danny snuck a look at Roy. His eyes were closed again, his face losing the lines of expression. Danny smiled to himself, kissed Roy’s chest, and laid his head back down on Roy’s shoulder.

“I love you,” Danny said quietly, weakly—as if he was scared Roy wouldn’t say it back for some reason.

Roy kissed the top of Danny’s head, “I love you, too.”

When the water had lost it’s soothing warmth, Danny decided it was time to end their bath. His lips ghosted over Roy’s collarbone, latching onto the skin of his neck. Danny coaxed a low moan out of Roy as he sucked on the sensitive area. His tongue ran over the budding bruise.

Danny licked from the base of Roy’s neck to the shell of his ear. Roy’s eyes rolled back when Danny dipped his tongue inside, his nipples stiffening. Danny kissed down Roy’s neck, to his shoulder, lavishing his bicep with attention. Roy’s hand pressing into Danny’s back was a comforting pressure, encouraging him to continue.

Plump lips kissed a pathway across Roy’s tan chest. The short hairs grazing his lips ignited an animalistic hunger in Danny. His hands splayed over Roy’s pecs, teasing his hardened nipples. Danny roughly pinched then tugged on them, Roy’s gasp melted into a moan as Danny rolled them between his fingers.

“Gorgeous,” Danny said as he continued to toy with Roy’s nipples. Roy fought the urge to deny the compliment. Roy didn’t think much of himself physically. Didn’t think he was so beautiful that he deserved to have someone like Danny calling him gorgeous with a handful of his tits, but here they were anyway.

The only way Roy could keep his mouth shut was to keep it busy. His hands caressed up Danny’s sides, moving into his hair to let it down from the bun Danny had put it in. Roy’s fingers combed through the dark locks so they wouldn’t tangle on Danny when they made love. His fingers fanned out in soft hair, teasing Danny’s sensitive scalp.

The gentle hand massaging his scalp quickly transformed into a fist full of hair pulling Danny to Roy’s lips. Their kiss was anything but tamed. Time wasn’t wasted as they happily welcomed each other’s tongues into their mouths. Roy nipped Danny’s bottom lip as Danny panted into the kiss.

Roaming hands and needy kisses could only hold them over for so long. Roy squeezed Danny’s asscheeks possessively before breaking up their make out. “Bed?”

To his surprise, Danny shook his head no. Roy thought that’s where the night was heading, but he was always just as happy to hold Danny as he was to have him.

“Take me now, here. I need you,” Danny plead.

Oh.

Roy wasn’t a fan of the thought if he was being honest. “I can’t do everything I wanna do to you in here,” Roy’s voice was particularly gravely, Danny’s thighs quivered at the sound. “And I want you to be comfortable. And safe.”

Danny smiled, affectionately rolling his eyes at Roy. Some days it was harder than others to get his lover to break out of his shell. Today, bath sex wasn’t a hill Danny was ready to die on. He nuzzled his nose with Roy’s, scratching through Roy’s stubble before kissing him. “Mkay,” Danny said against Roy’s lips.

Danny got up first, offering to help Roy step out onto the bathmat. Grabbing a towel, Roy quickly dried Danny off. The lush fabric teased his inner thighs as Roy ran the towel down them.

“Gimme,” Danny snatched the towel away, returning the favor of drying Roy off. “You’re fucking sexy,” Danny purred, throwing the wet towel onto the floor. Before Roy could make a comment about the mess Danny pulled him into a sweltering kiss.

Tattooed fingers pressed harshly into Roy’s jawline. Danny nearly kissed his lips raw. “Take me,” Danny desperately breathed into Roy’s mouth. “Need to feel you,” he panted. “Want you inside me…Please, Daddy.”

A rush of adrenaline took over Roy’s body as Danny begged for him. “I’m gonna be so good to you, babygirl. Gonna give you everything you want.” Roy pressed a firm kiss to Danny’s lips before pulling away. With all the strength in his body Roy lifted Danny into his arms, carrying him a few steps into the bedroom before tossing Danny onto the bed.

Danny moaned when he hit the mattress, left completely breathless by the move. Danny loved being manhandled by Roy. The sight of his lover crawling over him with dark hunger in his eyes dried Danny’s throat out. He wrapped his whole body around Roy, needing the secure feeling of skin on skin. The weight of Roy’s cock against him made Danny twitch. His own already fully hard and leaking.

Roy leaned down. His lips ghosted over Danny’s cheek and jaw. He teased Danny’s pulse point, making his lover whine and squirm beneath him just by breathing on the sensitive area. Roy smirked, pressing a small kiss where he teased. “You’re incredible,” Roy praised. One of his hands came to a rest on Danny’s stomach, knowing the simple touch would make Danny’s muscles jump.

“How do you want me to fuck you?” Roy growled into Danny’s ear, his hot breath had Danny’s eyes rolling back. Danny whimpered at the question, the promise of being fucked going straight to his balls.

“Love on me,” Danny said softly.

“You want me to love you, angel?”

Danny nodded his head, shyly smiling up at Roy.

Roy traced Danny’s lips with his thumb. “Okay.”

——

“You’re perfect. So amazing, princess. Did you like that? I fucking know you did,” Roy cooed to Danny as he nuzzled behind his ear. “I love you so much, angel. Daddy’s girl.”

Danny whined, leaning into Roy. He turned around in Roy’s arms to face him. Slender fingers traced the outline of a red-ish purple bruise on the side of Roy’s neck. Danny pressed his finger into it. “Mine.”

“Ow! Brat!” Roy chuckled, smacking Danny’s hand away.

Danny giggled at Roy’s response. Deciding to test his luck, Danny repeated the process on a hickey placed directly in the middle of Roy’s throat. “Mine.”

“Fuck! Stop doing that!” Roy‘s tone a little more serious than before.

“Sorry. ‘M love you,” Danny pecked Roy’s lips. Roy couldn’t help but to melt into Danny.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“You do?” Danny punctuated his sentence with a nip to Roy’s bottom lip.

“I do.” Reluctantly, Roy had to break away from Danny’s kiss. He hide his surprise in the one place he knew Danny wouldn’t find it; no matter how many times he snuck into Roy’s apartment when Roy wasn’t home.

Roy’s hand slid under his mattress (Danny never made the bed). He pulled out a few papers that Danny didn’t have to read as Roy immediately started to explain himself. “Since we’re going to Palm Springs to look at that house we liked, I thought we could stay at hotel for a day or two—a dog friendly one so we can bring the babies. I booked us an entire day at a spa. It’ll be nice to spend some time with you, Dan.”

Danny pouted, tears beginning to glisten in his eyes.

“Aw, angel,” Roy held Danny’s face. “Don’t—“

Danny shook his head. “They’re happy. I’m really happy. I’ve missed you— a lot.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

“It was really long.”

“I know,” Roy swiped away some of Danny’s tears. “That’s why I think we can use this.” He kissed the back of Danny’s hand. “I know all of this time away from each other has been hurting us. I know it’s hurting you, and our relationship. Things have been weird, and different. I know—“ he reassured Danny. “I know. I wanna try to make it a little better, though. As much as we can before you gotta leave.”

Danny crawled into Roy’s arms for a hug. Roy was always the talker of their relationship, and Danny was the toucher. While long talks and explanations of feelings helped Roy through a situation, being loved or loving helped Danny.

Danny nuzzled Roy’s cheek, kissing the indentation of his dimple. “I still want you.” Danny’s small voice took Roy off guard. “Even though it’s been weird and some things are kinda different,” Danny looked into Roy’s eyes. “I still want you—and this. I love this,” Danny giggled.

Roy couldn’t help but to smile. Danny’s not-so-serious attitude cut a lot of the tension in these situations—made Roy feel better most times. Roy cupped Danny’s face, meeting him half way for a kiss.

“I have another surprise for you,” Roy said against Danny’s lips.

“Is it your dick?” Danny teased, kissing Roy a bit rougher than before.

“Would my dick really be a surprise?”

Danny shrugged. Roy laughed into his mouth.

“I don’t think you’re gonna be as happy about this one.”

——

Danny grimaced, “Are you sure?” His fingers ran through Roy’s hair as Roy sat in front of him.

“A hundred percent.”

“I love your long hair,” Danny whined, twirling his fingers in the curly strands.

Roy chuckled, “I could do it on my own, you know. I wasn’t going for the full Britney fantasy, but—“

“No! I’ll do it!”

Roy smirked. He knew Danny would cave instantly.

The buzzing from the trimmer rung in Roy’s ears. Danny reluctantly brought the razor to the start of Roy’s hairline, gently guiding it to the nape of his neck in a smooth motion.

Roy didn’t have much hair to begin with. Danny brushed the itchy pieces off of Roy’s shoulders once he was done. “You’re still fucking sexy.”

“Yeah? You’re gonna love me even when I’m bald?”

Danny laughed, nodding his head. He mounted Roy. Roy’s hands always finding their way to Danny’s ass. “It looks good,” Danny reassured. “I love your short hair, too.”

——

Danny gasped. “Look at the windows!” The house they had come to look at had a beautiful view into a private backyard. Danny squeezed Roy’s hand in excitement.

“I’ll give you two some time to look around on your own,” the woman selling the house allowed Danny and Roy their privacy.

“Do you like it?” Roy asked, examining the well decorated sitting room.

“It’s bougie as hell.” A house like this was something Danny thought he’d only ever see on TV. Living here would be a complete dream.

Roy sat in one of the chairs in front of the wall length windows. Danny smiled at him, making his way across the room to sit in Roy’s lap. “You look like you’re at home.”

The place was nice. Private too. Roy could see himself and Danny living a pretty happy life here. The home was definitely big enough to start a family in. “I feel like I am.” Roy’s grip on Danny’s thigh tightened. “What do you think, really? Do you like this place?”

Danny happily nodded. “It’s beautiful. That backyard is sick.” Danny leaned down to catch Roy’s lips in a kiss. “And I want you to fuck me against those windows,” he growled into Roy’s mouth.

“Then we better put an offer in,” Roy smirked before rekindling their kiss.

——

Their mini vacation was everything they needed. Two days of alone time together, a possible new house, and an amazing spa day left the two refreshed and recharged.

Back at home Roy and Danny got ready for a night out at Mickey’s. Roy always looked so handsome. He was sleek in all black, the added touches of earrings and a necklace was a choice that made Danny’s mouth water.

Danny took just a bit longer to get ready, focusing more on his hair and makeup. They always ended up in the same position: Danny putting the finishing touches on in the bathroom mirror while Roy sat on the side of the tub holding Danny’s free hand until he was finished.

Warmth spread throughout Roy’s chest as he watched Danny crimp the last few pieces of his hair. He couldn’t help but to pull out his phone for a photo. Roy had an entire album of candid pictures of Danny that he loved looking back on in time’s of missing him. When he was cooped up all alone in a hotel room, remembering the moments behind each photo lightened up his day.

“All done?” Roy asked.

Danny re-crimped a piece of hair. “All done!”

“You’re beautiful, my angel,” Roy stood with Danny’s hand still in his, pecking Danny on the cheek.

Danny kissed Roy’s lips before tugging him out of the bathroom. “I’m so excited!” He pulled Roy through his apartment. “We haven’t been to Mickey’s together in forever!” The front door slammed behind them as they left for the night.

#rpdr fanfiction #biadore #adore delano #bianca del rio #fluff #soft smut #lemonade #canon compliant

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1-800-hellraiser · 4 years

Text

I don't want to set the world on fire (Jeff the Killer x reader x BEN Drowned)

Requested by: no one

Words: 2,273

Genre: Lots of angst (itty bitty bit of fluff at the end)

Associated song: I don't to set the world on fire - The Ink Spots

!TW! Swearing, yelling, arguing, all that tomfoolery.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

"I've lost all ambition and worthy acclaim, I just wanna be the one you love"

You step down the concrete stairs of your apartment building. Your boyfriend, Jeff, wanted to meet at the nearby park. He said he wanted to introduce you to someone. You know Jeff works with a lot of people, so you're excited to get to know one of his acquaintances. You pull up the hood of your f/c (favorite color) hoodie, since your s/t (skin tone) ears are getting cold.

You pop some earbuds into your ears and play some music as you walk to the park. Thinking a bit more about Jeff's acquaintances, you know of one in particular, because he's your mutual friend. That's how you and Jeff met, actually.

BEN was actually coming to kill you, but you threw something sharp at him. It stabbed him in the eye, and he had to take a break. So, the mission was given to Jeff. After about a week of fighting every night, you both just decided to stop and become friends. Hell, you became even more somehow.

You and BEN have been friends ever since he tried to kill you. He comes through your laptop sometimes, although most of the time, he comes through your T.V. You chill together and watch movies, play video games, and just veg out until you both fall asleep. He's also been through a lot with you, every fight you and Jeff had, work and school related stress, nightmares, everything!

So, why are you with Jeff and not BEN? Jeff asked you out, you don't think BEN likes you. You just think BEN is your best friend. He couldn't possibly have feelings for you...right?

BEN lays silently on his bed. He's internally kicking his own ass for not telling you about who Jeff actually was. There's a lot you don't know about Jeff. You're the type of person to wait until someone opens up to you. You don't know that when Jeff's not around you, he's an arrogant, self-centered, asswipe.

BEN rolls off his bed, and gets up to go get some food. He wanders into the kitchen and grabs a bowl from the cupboard. A bowl of cereal at 2 pm (14:00) sounds very tasty right about now. He takes the milk carton from the fridge and some Cheerios.

BEN plops himself into a chair and starts to munch on his Cheerios. Most of the other pastas and proxies are out on missions. The rest of the pastas and proxies, including BEN, have their day off today.

As BEN isn't paying attention and spacing out, Sally hops into the chair next to him at the table. "Hi BEN! Whatcha doin'?" "Ah!" BEN squeaks, almost spilling his cereal. BEN composes himself and glances at the small brunette next to him. "Thinking about a friend." Sally looks up at BEN in curiosity.

"Who?" Sally tilts her head like a confused puppy. BEN takes another spoonful of Cheerios and shoves them in his mouth. "A girl I became friends with on that one mission. The girl that stabbed me in the eye." BEN explains to the young girl. "Ohhhhh, her. Yeah I remember." BEN nods and swallows the cereal he was eating.

Something suddenly clicks in Sally's little noggin. She grows a sly smirk and her eyes become half lidded. She sets her head in her little palm. "You like her don't you?" The young brunette teases. BEN almost spits out his cereal, his face begins to grow red. Sally keeps smiling slyly as BEN tries to explain himself.

As soon as he gets his bearings, BEN realizes he cant explain himself. He does like you. The tingle in his chest when he's around you. The butterflies he gets when you talk to him. How sweaty his hands get when you text him. How could he have been so blind, he likes, no, loves you.

BEN sighs and runs his hand through his greasy, blond locks. "I may or may not..." Sally giggles at BEN. "Oh come onnnnnnnnn" Sally's green eyes make contact with BEN's red ones "I know you do. I think you should tell her how you feel." BEN's face gets red and his heart drops.

"I can't really do that Sally." BEN states dejectedly, Sally cocks her head at his words. "Why not?" Sally prods further. "She's, Jeff's girlfriend..." Sally looks at BEN with wide eyes. "I didn't know he had a girlfriend, I didn't even think he could get one..." BEN snorts at Sally's remark as he gets up to put his bowl in the sink.

Suddenly, an idea pops into BEN's head. He could just tell you how Jeff acts when he's not around you. To be fair, you probably won't believe him, but has to at least try. BEN says goodbye to Sally and semi - confidently walks back into his room. He decides to wait until 5 pm (17:00) to come over.

You finally arrive at the park Jeff told you to go to. It is a bit far from your apartment building, but you don't care. You text Jeff to see where he wants to meet you. As you wait for is text, you wander around, admiring the scene.

There are children running round as they're parents sit on the public benches and chat. There are people with they're dogs (on leashes, of course) and an opening to a forest area. You're getting more interested in the forest, but before you start walking towards it, you get a text back from Jeff.

'Meet me by the entrance of the forest'. His text is vague, but you know what he means. You silently walk over to the entrance of the forest. Jeff comes into view along with a female. She has long, almost tomato red hair, a pale complexion, and is about 5'2. She is wearing a denim jean jacket, a black tank top underneath, jeans and a pair of black Doc Martins.

You come closer to the pair, noticing Jeff has his arm around the girl. You falter for a minute, before shrugging it off as 'they must be good friends'. Once you get to Jeff and the girl, you notice the female's beautiful green eyes. Her eyes are piercing right through you, in almost a judgmental way.

You push the thought away as Jeff introduces you to the girl. Her name is Zoe, a very pretty name. "So, Jeff, what do you want to do here?" You ask innocently, Jeff smirks at you. "Well, I wanted to talk, about our relationship specifically." Your heart drops and you feel the blood drain from tour face.

"Oh, uh, ok! What did you want to talk about." You ask, still trying to be optimistic about this situation. Although, you have an idea of where this is going. "Well, I'm breaking up with you, for Zoe. I wanted to tell you in person." Jeff explains, as you stand there dumbly.

After you process what he just said, you are livid. "Wow, ok, so, you thought it would be a great idea to have me walk for about a half a mile (0.8 kilometers) just for you to break it off? And, if that wasn't enough you have to bring your girlfriend along with you?" You sneer at Jeff.

"What the hell man? Like, it would've been better to break it off over the phone, rather than this shit being pulled." You continue, relentlessly. Jeff cuts in "babe, listen, I-" "No! You pull this shit and still have the brass balls to call me babe?! Get bent, Jeff." You finish, flipping him off as you retreat back to your apartment building.

As soon as you enter your apartment, you break down. You cry until you're dehydrated. After wallowing in a bundle of blankets for about an hour, you get up to check the time. It is four thirty, you sigh and get up to get some food. Food doesn't solve ALL your problems, but it does solve some of them.

You sigh as you stare into a fridge with only a few water bottles and some shredded cheese. You grab a water bottle, then close your fridge and trudge back to your room. You decide to order some food, but you don't know where from.

After about 30 minutes, BEN pops out of your T.V. and scares the shit out of your indecisive ass. "What's poppin' Y/n?" BEN asks, sitting next to you on your bed. "Nothin' much, just trying to decide on what to eat for dinner." BEN's eyes light up "CAN WE GET MCDONALD'S?!" You flinch at the sound of BEN's excitement.

"Pfft, yeah, we can." You open a handy dandy app on your phone that lets you order from almost any restaurant in your area. You pick out what you want and hand your phone over to BEN when you're done. You got some f/f (favorite food) and BEN got chicken nuggets.

"Its gonna take 45 minutes to get here." You inform, BEN groans. You chuckle at his childish nature. "You wanna play some Smash while we wait?" You ask, grabbing you and BEN a controller. "Hell yeah! Imma wipe the floor with your ass!" "Don't be so cocky BEN." You retort sassily.

"BRO LITERALLY HOW." BEN yells in frustration, you giggle at him. "I told you not to be so cocky~" You taunt he crosses his arms and pouts. You chuckle and ruffle his golden locks. You her a knock at your door and both you and BEN perk up. "I'll be right back, the food's here." You rise up off your semi-stiff mattress and walk out of your room.

BEN lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He decided to tell you after about Jeff. He had noticed that you were crying. He noticed your puffy eyes, the unwiped tear streaks, your shaking. He didn't say anything because he wanted to make you feel a little bit better, but he also wants to tell you the truth.

You come back with a McDonald's back full of greasy, unhealthy, yet delicious food. BEN licks his lips as you hand him his chicken nuggets. You take out f/f and take a bite. Your mouth salivates even more as you take a bite of the lovely food.

After you two are finished, you took the trash out of your room so it won't attract ants or roaches. BEN starts sweating and his heart beats against his rib cage. "Hey, Y/n, can I talk to you about something?" He tries his best to make sure he doesn't look nervous. "Yeah, what's up?" BEN gulps and prepares for the worst.

"Ok, I wanted to tell you Jeff isn't what he seems. He's an arrogant, asshat that doesn't care about others emotions. He thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread-" "oh yeah I know," BEN stops in his tracks. "Y-you know?" He stutters, looking at you with pure confusion on his features. "Yeah, he broke up with me for a much prettier girl, he name is Zoe, I believe."

BEN stares at you in disbelief, not because of the break up between you and Jeff. It's because you weren't breaking down. "A-are you doing okay?" BEN asks, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Kinda, I broke down earlier about it, but I think I'm fine now." BEN nods and scoots a bit closer to you.

"Ok, well, I-I wanted to ask you something. To be fair, it is a bit, sudden and early, and its okay if you don't feel the same." BEN looks at you with a cute blush spreading across his left cheek, over his button nose, to his right cheek. "What do you mean,?" You ask, cocking your head. BEN holds in a breath, and then lets it go.

"Y-Y/n, I came over to ask you, if y-you'd be my girlfriend." As soon as those words exit BEN's mouth, he shrinks down in fear of what you'll say. You give BEN a look of sympathy. You gently scoot closer to him, and wrap your arms around him, holding him close to your chest.

BEN slowly un-tesnses his muscles and wraps his arms around your waist. Burying his head into your shoulder. He breathes into your shirt, your shirt smells like fresh linen laundry soap. He loves that laundry soap. You rub soothing circles on your best friend's back. "I'm so sorry BEN, I had no idea you felt this way." You whisper soothingly. BEN starts to get his hopes up.

"I don't think I like you like that, BEN."

BEN's heart drops immediately. He holds on to you tighter. You both sat there in a comfortable silence, BEN blaming himself for catching feelings. You know however, what he's doing.

"BEN, hun, please don't blame yourself, I'm sorry. If it makes you feel any better," you pull away from BEN's grasp, he looks you in the eyes, "we can still be friends." BEN accepts your offer and pulls you into another tight embrace. "Thank you Y/n. God, your the best friend I could ever ask for."

#jtk x reader #ben drowned #ben drowned x reader #creepypasta jtk #jtk #onehsot #angst #creepypasta #writers on tumblr

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yconic · 5 years

Text

It's 2 am and wanted to write some multiverse stuff lol

Summary: Tony messed up something in the lab. The result is two versions of himself appearing in the middle of his kitchen. (I feel like I should mention, the two universes are pretty much made up and not Marvel canon)

"Why am I so short? Forgot to take my vitamins or something?" Stark from earth 8001 snorted and looked down at Tony as he took off his sunglasses, an amused smile playing on his face at Tony's scrunched up angry expression.

"Calm down short stuff, before your goatee catches on fire and you explode." That seemed to earn a ''Ha!'' From the Earth 2990 version of himself that just made Tony's list.

Although they were versions of himself, they didn't look identical like Tony. They were taller and a bit more muscular, one of them almost as tall as Steve, and their eyes were of electric blue instead of amber brown like his own.

"Am I always this annoying?" Tony huffed and turned to Stephen, who has been levitating in the common room for the past 10 minutes. The man ignored him.

"Yeah, pretty much," Rhodey said instead with a fond smile "but we don't mind it."

"Speak for yourself." Pepper playfully shoved him in the shoulder at that, and the two of them giggled on the couch like a pair of teenage girls.

"Uh, can you hear me from down there, or do I need to get a megaphone? You copy? Good. I'm not annoying, I'm charismatic, Tinkerbell. There's a difference. You're just mad you can't grasp it yet."

"There's also a line between being a jackass and a comedian, and you've crossed it since you arrived." Earth 2990 said with a be amused chuckle, typing something on his watch. At the frustrated sigh, the other man (the other him?) Let out, Tony guessed the job wasn't doing it for him. "Me. We. You, whatever. I can't get this thing to work. You had any luck?"

"Tsk." Stark shook his head " Thought it makes sense. Communication Networks must be different in every universe and their signal must be jacked because of the time and location difference. There could be a possibility that the phone numbers or communication links we're trying to access got...messed up in a way.

Like, maybe now that we're in this universe, we're a part of it and everything that tied us to our world can't be accessed anymore?"

"Yeah, that seems right," Earth 2990 nodded, and Tony decided that he'll have to find names for him too. "but how do we find a way to communicate with the people in our world?"

"Maybe we can create a communication link of our own." Tony jumped in the conversation " a common network if you will. Also, you're Stark," he annoiunced, pointitng at the taller alter, then at the orher one who shyly stayed back and played with his fingers. "And you're gonna be Anthony. I'm copyrighting Tony."

"Huh, so I'm not a complete idiot in this world, that's good to know," Stark muttered and started looking for something in the kitchen. "Jesus, where's the alcohol in this place?" He muttered.

"You ain't gonna find any," Friday's voice rang in the room "Boss quit last year." Something like pride hugged her robotic voice as she informed them. Tony probably shouldn't have taken that to heart too much, but he did.

"Um," Stark's eyes were narrowed and his lips were in a thin line before answer "you're not Jarvis. Where's Jarvis? "

The room seemed to freeze as Tony's face became steely as he answered stiffly " Gone."

It was a moment of silence for the three Starks in the room, a moment of understanding and shared pained over the same loyal butler they all lost before and once again in this life.

"...Well, I can't work till I don't drink at least 10 cups of whiskey, and Rhodey's not here on my ass so I don't know about you two, but I'm having my drinking party in the lab. Friday, order some whiskey."

"How much, sir?"

" Uhh, 'till it's enough to fill a small pub, preferably." He then turned to Tony "You know what you need? A meeting with your old friend, Mr. Whiskey and Mrs. Vodka. I'm sure they miss you."

Despite Tony's mouth suddenly going dry, desperate for the hot liquid that once made a home in his belly to burn his neck again, he shook his head and licked his lips, crossing his arms over his chest "I promised some friends that I wouldn't."

"Who?" Stark asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Friends? Buddies? Pals You don't have that in your world?"

" Not that I know of. " Stark shrugged and turned to 2990 "How about you? Wanna come with me? It'll be the night of your life."

"First of all, that sounded like a sex proposition, which, ew. You're technically me, and I may be a narcissist, but this takes the phrase of 'loving myself ' to a whole different level," 2990 cringed. "and second of all, I'll pass. Promised my Rhodey I wouldn't drink."

Stark sighed and looked down "Yeah. Me too." His fingers tapped on the bottom of the counter. Tony observed how his breathing quickened a bit and how his eyes wandered around aimlessly. It was subtle, but noticeable, because Tony could see his old self who freshly gave up drinking in him.

Anxious, stress filled, trying not to breakdown on the spot. It was easy to pinpoint what you've lived. Tony opened his mouth, ready to reassure him, but Stark's finger snapping interrupted him.

"Okay, no drinking. Yet. What other unhealthy coping mechanism beside living in the bottle until we have to be a big boys and get over ourselves do we have, hm? Beating up an innocent boxing bag? Work 'till we drop dead? Throw a party? Prank call NASA?"

Tony had to frown. "Pranking NASA isn't an unhealthy coping mechanism."

"Everything's an unhealthy coping mechanism if you're fucked up enough. And yeah It is, if you do it long enough you forget how the sun looks," Stark nodded. " let's just say I've lived through some pretty dark times."

As deranged as he looked, Anthony chose not to tell Stark of how bad that sounded. Mostly because he knew the other him was aware. Instead, he suggested: "Well, I mean, baking and knitting usually help me get over stress. They're really fun! Happy's mom actually took me to one of her yoga classes last week, so maybe--"

"As awesome as my ass looks in yoga pants, I'm not doing any of that," Stark interrupted crudly. He stole the coffee Tony was holding from his hand and walked towards the lab with a confident step, as though he owned the place.

"-- I'm gonna inspect the lab to see at what level of shitty you are when it comes to handling it. I swear there better be a mountain of pizza boxes and puddles of Dum-E's smoothies on the floor or me and my buddy Sledgehammer are gonna have words with that room."

"I haven't cleaned that place in months, so that's exactly what you're gonna find."

"Finally, something about this universe that makes sense!"

Anthony and Tony exchanged already tired looks as they followed their disaster of an alter to make sure the tower would still stand by down.

"You think he's just gonna start blowing shit now, or after dinner?"

A loud explosion sound could be heard, followed by a 'That computer was ugly anyway!'

"Now is a good guess. Bet 20 $ we're gonna have a party by tonight."

"Make it 30. Have you seen us? Yikes." They shared a chuckle, walking into the lab. Their staying will sure be interesting.

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matsbarzal · 7 years

Text

Just a Hookup - William Nylander

Note: whatta creative title for my actual dad that i love so much. no but seriously, i kind of like this one and kind of don’t but i hope you guys enjoy!!

Smut: Yes | No

Warnings: smut yall

Request: Can you do a William nylander smut?? Love your writing btw💜

It was the same thing every offseason, Willy would leave for Sweden after the Marlies or Leafs were pushed out of the playoffs, and you would be stuck back home in Toronto, unable to follow your best friend to his hometown. It wasn’t really expected of you though, as to everyone else, you were just friends, and nothing more.

William hid the true intentions of your relationship from everyone, not wanting to jeopardize your dating life because you weren’t an actual couple. Just a hookup, always just a hookup. There were times that you thought that maybe he wanted to change that, and put an actual label on what you guys were doing, but it was always just a hookup.

Regardless of that issue, he was still your best friend. Which is what had you standing in the airport, waiting for his floppy blonde hair to appear from the terminal, and when it finally did, you almost squealed in excitement as you ran towards him. You collided with him, the only thing keeping the two of you upright being the newfound strength that the Swede had gained over the summer.

“I’ve missed you!” You yelled into his ear, aggressively holding him in a hug, which he easily reciprocated.

“I’ve missed you too, you weirdo.”

William gently pried your hands off his body, grabbing his fallen suitcase and gesturing for you to direct them to your car. This was always how it went, you would attack him in a loving embrace and he would then direct you to get out of the airport so he could show you the actual embrace he preferred.

After a few minutes of walking, you finally found your car in the maze that is Toronto Pearson airport, a huffing and annoyed William trailing behind you.

“You pick me up every year, and you lose your car… every fucking year.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his grumbling as he shoved his luggage into your backseat and your trunk, trying to fit as much of his stuff in the back so it didn’t have to come up to the front with the two of you. He, thankfully, was able to shove it all in the back before moving to the passenger seat.

“Thanks for the help, (Y/N).”

“Anytime, Will.”

The Swede pouted at you, before grabbing the aux chord from your hands and plugging it into your phone. “Sorry, we’re not listening to Lana Del Rey the entire ride to my apartment. Not in that mood for that shitty shit today.”

Ignoring his jab at your choice of music, you began the drive to his apartment, ignoring the occasional glance that he sent your way during the ride.

You weren’t oblivious, you knew what he wanted from the subtle touches to your hip and the ‘accidental’ brush up against your ass, but you weren’t playing into his games anymore. You couldn’t feel the way you felt every time he brought someone else to his apartment, or the way he talked about the girl’s home in Sweden, you weren’t allowed to be jealous of it, but you were, and you were done with it. And sadly, that took progress, which started with denying him what he wanted.

“(Y/N)… help me unpack… pleaseeeee.” Raising your eyebrow at the fully grown man in front of you, who was currently dropping everything in his hands on the floor to practically beg you to help him; you just simply shook your head and laughed.

“You never help me, Willy. Sucks to suck, buddy.”

The man in question continued to grumble under his breath at your words, moaning and complaining the entire time. You ignored it, once again, clicking your phone on so you could scroll through Instagram.

Liking a few pictures, you stopped when you noticed a comment on Willy’s newest post.

Alexnylander good luck with you know who in Toronto!! ;)))

Truthfully, you didn’t want to know who he was talking about, because it sure as hell wasn’t you. Skipping past the picture, you liked a few more before William’s grumbling became too annoying.

“Jesus, Will, can we do something else so you’ll shut up for 10 minutes?”

He eagerly accepted, proclaiming that you were going to watch ‘a movie’ with him, and you didn’t get to choose which movie because you were being ‘too mean to him’. His comments just made you laugh, ignoring the look of mock hurt that crawled across his face.

After a few seconds of shuffling through his movie cabinet, like usual, the blue of the Notebook’s cover page appeared just as a groan sounded from your throat. “Again?”

“Again!”

Every single time you watched a movie together and he got to choose, it was always The Notebook, literally… always.

After setting the movie up and turning the lights off, the Swede climbed into bed beside you, immediately cuddling up to your body and claiming it was too cold in the room to not cuddle. “You love it anyways, (Y/N), so shush and watch the movie.”

You obliged, facing towards the screen and focusing on the beginning of the movie. Your focus was interrupted a few minutes in when you felt his hand gently rubbing up and down your clothed thigh, an obvious indication of what he wanted. You tried to ignore it, but he just became more persistent and used the leverage of moving up higher closer towards where you knew moisture was growing.

You shifted up a bit, so that his hand was closer towards your knee, while subtly trying to move your leg away from him. Unfortunately, his hand followed wherever your thigh went.

“(Y/N)…”

You turned to face him, just as the feeling of his soft lips on yours reached your brain. It took you a second to realize what was going on, and when you did, you knew you were fucked. You couldn’t stop, the feeling he gave you was like a drug, it was addictive and unhealthy, but you loved it… so much.

Eagerly pressing your lips against his, the Swede pushed himself on top of you, holding himself up with his elbows. He left your lips to begin peppering kisses down your neck, stopping when your shirt got in the way to lift it gently off your body, coaxing you to lift your arms so he could. You allowed him to remove it, your own reasoning trying to persuade your impulses to stop, but you couldn’t.

He didn’t bother to remove the bra, just pushed the cup aside before his lips attached themselves to one of your rosy buds. The blonde eagerly sucked on it, occasionally scraping it with his teeth before moving to the other one, small groans leaving your lips at every one of his ministrations. You could feel him rutting against the bed at your sounds, which you knew he loved.

After a few more minutes of that, he continued to pepper kisses down your body before reaching your pants, looking up at you to make sure you were okay with it. Once again, your impulses took over and you nodded down.

Within seconds, both your pants and panties were off, as he looked upon your wet core hungrily. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you’re turned on, (Y/N). It’s so fucking hot.”

That was new. Sex between the two of you was always a quiet affair, no dirty talk, just moans and groans and slaps. You both, originally, didn’t want it to get too intimate, which made his comments even weirder.

Choosing to just moan at his words, he eagerly pressed his mouth to your dripping core, eliciting a loud moan from your lips. You could feel the smug grin that took over his face at your sounds, which had you closing your thighs tightly around his head, to implicate that you weren’t interested in him being a smug bastard tonight.

He obviously got the hint, his tongue spreading out to lick a line from your entrance all the way to the bundle of nerves at the top of your core. William repeatedly did that, each time releasing a loud moan from your lips, and a shake from your lower body. He continued that until you were gripping his hair, tugging on it hard enough that he moved his head to look up at you.

“Fuck me, please.”

William shook his head almost immediately, “No, tonight’s about you, not me.”

You were baffled by his words, but you couldn’t think of it as his lips went back to your clit, licking and sucking you to an orgasm that had your eyes rolling back and your hips bucking into his mouth. You opened your eyes to look at him, just to see how intensely he was looking at you.

A few seconds of a staring contest resulted in him repressing his lips to yours. He pulled away to look at you again, “I fucking love when you cum in my mouth and make those sounds, you look so fucking gorgeous.”

Your train of thought refocused on his words, once again baffling you as to why he was saying these kinds of things, especially when he never did. “Willy…”

“No, let me finish. I fucking love making you cum, and making you moan my name when I fuck you, or how you gag when you give me head. I know this isn’t the time, but I want that all the time, not just occasionally, but like… all the time. I want morning sex, and after practice sex, and victory sex, and I wanna be able to not worry that you’re gonna say no because you have a boyfriend, or that you’re fucking someone else. But I also wanna see you in my jerseys all the time, or my shirts, I wanna see you cooking in my kitchen, I literally want everything.” All the words rushed from his mouth, with each word leaving, a tinge of red followed on his cheeks. When he was done, his face was as red as a tomato, and he was looking at you awkwardly.

“Do you get every girl naked and then say this?”

“Fuck you and tell me if you want it too.” The Swede practically growled at you, his own nerves showing in his aggression.

“Well like… yeah, but I don’t have a jersey for you to wear of mine right now, sorry buddy.”

All the blonde did was laugh, pushing forward to once again press his lips against yours. Pulling away, you looked at him, “So like, can I put my pants on now or?”

#william nylander #william nylander imagines #nhl imagines #william nylander imagine #toronto maple leafs #requested #mine #smut

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caffeinechesters · 7 years

Text

Wincest Writing Challenge: September 2017 | @caffeinechesters vs. @atlasthend Prompt: Please, for just one night, will you lay down next to me. Title: Save Tonight (Fight the Break of Dawn) Pairing: Wincest Word Count: 1858 Rating: R/Mature Summary: Sam is leaving tomorrow. Tags/Triggers: Pre-Stanford wincest, bottom!Sam, angst AO3 Link: Here

Sam Winchester is leaving tomorrow. He's leaving behind everything just for the taste of normalcy. Dean could never fault Sam for wanting to leave; he's too smart to just be a hunter, has too much compassion be a murderer like them. Dean knows this, but it still doesn't mean that his heart isn't breaking.

Dean has known for a while that Sam was leaving for Stanford. He saw the thick envelope in the bottom of his duffel underneath a pair of jeans during his hunt for a pair of clean socks. It still hurts him that Sam never told him, but Sam has always been one to hold the cards close to his chest. He just waits for Sam to tell him. Days, weeks, months pass until Sam does. It's almost mid-July when Sam confesses to him. They're living on the fringes of blink-you-miss-it town, both sitting outside on the porch while the sunrises and their father coming back later that evening from a nearby hunt, when Sam in the same small voice he used as a toddler tells him. It makes Dean's heartache. It feels like he can't breathe for a moment, too, but he takes a breathe, pauses, and finally croaks out, "I'm so proud of you, Sammy. Look at that, such a nerd getting a scholarship."

Sam beams, dimples out in full, and Dean feels like this is the end. He hears Sam prattle on about the various highlights of Stanford ("Dean, they have..."), when Sam pauses for a moment and shatters his world: "I want you to come along with me, Dean. They have a garage nearby that needs a mechanic..."

Dean knows it's better for them both is Sam goes alone. Dean would be a hindrance to Sam's new normal. Dean would be the reminder of the open road, cheap diner food, and even cheaper motel rooms. Dean knows Sam would never be normal with him around. He knows about Sam's little crush on him (and it's not a one-way street either). He knows if they leave together, their dad wouldn't be there to act as a sentinel, the ever-watchful-eye of God of their unhealthy relationship and curtail anything more than proper brother behavior.

"I can't Sam," he interrupts, "You know I can't Sam. What about Dad? Do you think he'd let us go? What about avenging Mom? Don't you wanna get that son of a bitch?"

"Dean, you deserve to have a life outside of this," Sam yells back, moving into Dean's space, "This is Dad's fight, not ours!"

Sam deflates a bit after looking at Dean; they're sitting close enough that Sam brushes his fingers against Dean's.

"Please Dean, if you don't go with me tomorrow, can we at least have tonight? I know you feel the same, and before you say it's wrong, I've always wanted you. Can we just have tonight at least until Dad comes home," Sam bargains, turning his whole body to face Dean, fingers still brushing against his.

Dean can give him this. Dean can live with himself; he thinks back to the line from a poem he vaguely remembers about better to have loved than never at all. Dean is positive it would be his biggest regret otherwise. He feels the way Sam is absently brushing his fingers. He moves his other hand from his lap to cup Sam's face and chastely places a kiss on Sam. His heart is heavy and feels that it may shatter, but he'll survive.

Sam melts when Dean kisses him. He can see how Dean got all the girls. His plush lips and the gentleness are just a few of the reasons why Sam is stunned. His mind finally catches up and he pushes back, kissing him fervently, passionately, because they'll only have tonight Sam figures. He moves into Dean's lap, somehow not managing to break the kiss. He feels Dean pull back, lips slightly redder, and Sam panics slightly.

"Easy tiger," Dean smiles, "why don't we move this into the house? Make ourselves comfortable."

They make it to the bedroom, losing clothes as they go and Dean grabbing a tube of lube from his duffel, when Dean corrals Sam to the bed, pushing him down by the shoulders. Sam is compliant for once in his life and goes easily. Sam scouts back to the center of the bed, stretching out, spreading his legs a bit, and starts stroking his dick as he glances over at Dean and his dick.

"You gonna take a picture, Dean," Sam asks because Dean hasn't moved much since Sam laid down on the bed. "C'mon Dean, make me yours. We've waited long enough."

Dean watches Sam getting comfortable, watches him start to stroke himself into full hardness. The spell is broken when Sam speaks; he moves to the bed, gently removes Sam's hand and replaces it with his. Sam's eyes roll back when Dean strokes him, placing a bit a pressure just under the crown of his dick. He bucks up the moment Dean places a kiss and licks around the head, coupled with a sharp hiss and "God Dean..."

Dean looks up at Sam after that comment, and Sam wasn't even aware he could fall more in love with Dean when he makes eye contact with Dean as he sucks and slurps, jacking the rest of it that cannot fit. Dean when he noticed Sam is looking him, winks up at him as Dean opens the lube. Sam didn't think it could get better until he feels a lube-slick finger trails down is perineum, circle around his rim, and gently push inside. Dean feels around and the moment he feels Sam clench and moan, he knows he found his prostrate and rubs it for a moment before sliding it back out, adds more lube, and inserts two fingers. Sam feels the fullness of two fingers, and when Dean hits his prostrate combined with the fantastic blowjob is giving him, he feels his toes curling and feels like he's going come too soon.

He tugs at Dean's hair to get his attention, pleading him, "Dean... I'm gonna come too soon if you keep doing that. I wanna come with you inside."

Dean pulls off, giving Sam's tip one last kiss, and says, "Jesus Sam... Yeah, lemme just prep you a bit.."

"I wanna feel you on the bus to Stanford," Sam interrupts, "if you don't want to go to California with me... I at least want a reminder of you as long as possible."

Dean acquiesces, spreading his fingers one last time inside of Sam, and pulls out. He makes sure that he applies a lot of lube to him, because he knows his dick is a bit wider than two fingers, and at least it won't hurt too badly. Dean hooks Sam's legs around his waist, and guides his dick inside of Sam, meeting some resistance. He pushes forward slowly until he bottoms out. Sam's arms have wound around Dean's neck, one hand in his hair the other clutching his back. Dean stays still, even though he wants to pull out and start thrusting. When Sam's grip lightens up, Dean pulls out a little, making shallow little thrusts.

"C'mon Dean, I'm not gonna break," Sam chides, "show me how much you want me."

"Easy, Sammy, we'll get there," Dean tells him. He keeps his pace slow and gentle, which would be good but Sam is leaving tomorrow and he wants it to be every bit as painful as it will be to leave. Using his strength Sam flips them over and leans down to kiss him.

"Sorry Dean, but I wanna feel you for days," Sam tells him breath away from his lips, "If this is our last hooray, I wanna go out with a bang not a whisper."

Sam pulls back and starts to ride Dean, bracing his hands on Dean's chest. Dean's hands find their way to Sam's hips as he bucks up into Sam. The air is becoming more humid and the sound of too much lube fills the room. Dean's hands start to wander when he catches the points of Sam's nipples as his hands move up from Sam's hips and abs. He feels them tighten a bit more when he circles them with his thumb and Sam clenching down harder on him.

"Keep doing that Dean," Sam moans, "you feel so good filling me up."

Sam picks up pace, clenching around Dean, and leans forward to kiss him. Dean moves his hands to envelope Sam, one in hair and the other trails down Sam's back. Dean cups Sam's ass, feeling the power of Sam's thrusts, when he brushes his fingers around Sam's rim stretched wide around him. Sam bucks when he feels Dean fingers circle around his hole. Dean kisses him hard, swallowing Sam's gasp when manages to wiggle in a finger beside his dick.

"Dean," Sam whines out, straightening up again, "I'm so full... I'm gonna come soon"

Sam rides Dean harder, chasing his orgasm when Dean feels Sam's legs starting to shake. He pulls at Sam's rim a bit and aims to hit Sam prostrate dead on, and after a couple of thrusts, he feels Sam clenching down as he comes with just dick rubbing against Dean's abs.

"So hot little brother," Dean grunts out, flipping them over, with Sam going boneless on his back. "You want to come inside or you want me to pull out an come all over you?"

"In me, Dean," Sam tells him, as Dean hovers over the top of him.

Dean hooks his arms under Sam's knees and opens him up more when he picks up his thrusts. They both feel the bed shaking, moving, as Dean chases his release. Dean kisses Sam deeply as he goes in deep, bottoming out as he comes. Sam clenches down as he feels Dean coming and too soon Dean pulls out.

"Thank you, Dean... That was amazing," Sam sleepily tells Dean, as Dean get a stray tee to clean him up.

Dean when he comes back to the bed wishes he could get hard again seeing Sam splayed on the bed, legs akimbo, showing Sam's puffy rim and slight gape. He also wishes they had more time so Dean could feel Sam inside of him. He looks at the alarm clock on the edge of the nightstand and no, they don't have enough time. Dad will be home soon and everything will turn to shit.

Dean stamps down those thoughts instead wiping Sam clean, tosses the tee to the side and crawls up next to Sam. Sam is clinging to consciousness, but when Dean wraps his arms around him, he falls off into a dreamless sleep.

"I wish I could come with you Sam, I really do," Dean whispers, "But you're gonna have the normal life you always wanted: the picket fence, the dog, and a 9-5 job. And you'll never have normal if I'm around. That's why I gotta let you go. Even if it kills me."

#wincestwritingchallenge #atlasthend #wincest #spn fic #i am sorry that i bring angst #but it my mind went to 'hey why both angst and smut'

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