#I could NEVER rock them like he did. Nope. No way. Nuh uh.

[fancycolours]

Husband posting on main. Here goes. 🥰💜

I think about these shoes all the time. My goodness. Leopard print slip-on shoes my beloveds. 🐆💛 My man rocked them! 🤩 And he should totally bring them back again! Come on Robert! For me please! 🥺 

Bonus: The photographer was apparently so infatuated with his shoes that night that he couldn’t help but zoom in to take a photo of just them. lmao. Bless. Just look at how cool they are dammit. 😂 Also, babe doesn’t wear socks with his shoes. *le gasp* 😱 idk how he does it. But he does it so well. Bravo honey! BRAVO! 😩👌

[starlitangels]

Stay With Me, Faithful

@palilious I got it done, Pali! I got stuck for a little bit but I got it done! 2.3k words

CW: violence, blood, grievous injuries, emotional

—

Thump… thump… thump…

I sat up blearily and rubbed my eyes. Heavy boots on the metal floor of the ship…

“Albus,” I hissed.

Springing from my bunk, I threw my long overcoat on over my nightdress and slid into my boots. I dodged out of my cabin and crept after him as quietly as I could. His boots were quieter than mine, but I’d learned how to creep around my temple in hard-heeled shoes. As long as I was careful he wouldn’t know I was even—

“What are you doing, faithful?” Albus asked around a sigh that seemed exasperated.

I made a face of frustration. Of course he caught me. How did he always know?

“I could ask you the same thing,” I retorted, striding forward until we were standing opposite each other.

He chuckled, setting his hands on his hips. “Could. Didn’t.”

I scowled. “What are you doing, Albus?” I asked sharply. “Why are you wandering the ship while we’re supposed to be sleeping?”

“Who says it’s any of your business?”

“Oh I’m sure it’s not. But I don’t want you exhausted and off your game tomorrow if something happens.”

“It’s after midnight. We’re already in tomorrow.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean,” I shot back.

He narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. “You really wanna know?” There was an almost genuine innocence to his question and part of me couldn’t help but brace to hear the most vile, perverse thing I couldn’t even imagine until it came out of his mouth. But I nodded anyway. “I couldn’t sleep. Happens every so often. Sometimes warriors have to stay awake for days. Sleeping every night is weird anyway.”

I rubbed my eyes. “No? It’s not? Sleeping every night is normal?”

“Maybe for a sister-paladin living a cushy temple attendant’s life,” Albus retorted.

“Cushy isn’t the word I’d use but I do understand where you’re coming from with using it,” I said around a yawn. “Alright. Where are we going?”

“We? Nuh-uh. There’s no we. I’m taking a walk to wind down enough to try to sleep, and you’re taking that pretty little head of yours back to your bunk and going back to bed.”

“Nope. I’m awake now. Meaning I’m joining you until I’m exhausted enough to go back to bed.” I stretched my shoulders. “Let’s go. Where are we walking?”

Albus rolled his eyes. “You’re really stubborn, you know that?”

“Mmhmm. Proud of it, actually.”

“Of course you are,” he grumbled. “Come on, then. We’re just gonna go around the ship a few times. Like a patrol.”

I covered another yawn with my hands. “Mkay.” I fell into step beside him as he turned and moved to walk off. I blinked hard to try and clear the weight of fatigue from my eyelids as I wrapped my overcoat more securely around me. “Remind me where Devlin parked the ship for the night?”

Albus snorted hard enough that he had to have hurt his throat. “I’m sure I would if I knew,” he said.

“No you wouldn’t,” I grumbled. “You’d save it until we were outside and it was convenient or dramatic for you to tell me. Unless you were trying to warn me off.”

He shrugged. “Probably,” he agreed.

We made our way through the ship and off. The mantle seemed to change constantly and never looked even similar to where we were the last time we got off the ship.

The landscape this time looked like yellowish, sandblasted rock, but felt weirdly springy underfoot. Albus set off to march around the hull of the ship. I fell into step beside him. “Why do you think the ground feels like this?” I asked, testing the bounce slightly, applying more weight on my toes.

“Don’t know, don’t care. Ask Vinny—he’s the egghead, he probably has a guess.”

“Petrified organic?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Sometimes things that were once alive harden a long time after they die. Like how trees seem to turn to stone and we call them petrified trees, before you say something gross about the way my half-asleep brain worded that last sentence.”

Albus snickered. I rolled my eyes.

He didn’t seem to deign to respond to the suggestion, and I decided to drop it.

We walked along the port side of the ship. It was a lot bigger than it seemed sometimes. The springy ground made an odd hissing noise with every step we took.

Off in the distance, something whickered.

“What was that?” I asked.

“What?”

“Did you not hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That… whickering.”

“Stop being paranoid. There’s nothing out here right now, and we should count ourselves grateful. This place has been full of things that want us dead just because we crossed their paths. Take the peace while you can get it, faithful.”

Still, Albus rested a hand on his sword and cast a glance around.

“Here,” he said. Gentler than I expected, he took my arm and drew me around his front as we walked so I was walking between him and the hull.

“What was that about?”

“Well, that way I’m between you and the most likely direction of attack,” Albus said. He scoffed and rolled his eyes as my eyebrows tilted. “Oh, don’t make a thing out of it. You just… seemed worried.” He looked away. Peeking through his messy dark hair, the tips of his ears were a little red. I pursed my lips to suppress a smile and turned to watch where I was stepping. The springiness of the ground kept making me feel like it was going to collapse from right under us.

There was that noise again. Closer? Or was I just listening for it? Or was I just being a wimp?

I tried to ignore the rising apprehension. We circled around and came up on the starboard side of the ship and continued on. Albus seemed perfectly content to walk in silence. Which was… odd, considering how much he usually seemed to at least mildly enjoy the sound of his own voice.

I decided not to say anything.

Something huffed. A grunting sort of huff.

“Did you hear that?” I asked.

Albus had gone rigid. “Yeah. That one I heard,” he agreed. He looked around wildly, drawing his sword. “Gangplank, now. Get back on the ship.” With his other hand, he pushed at my shoulder to get me moving.

I didn’t need to be told twice. I stumbled on the hem of my overcoat before we both took off running. Albus kept his head on a swivel. The ground underneath us hissed with every speedy step.

And then rumbled.

A scream tore out of my throat as it exploded directly behind me—and something grabbed my ankle.

“Albus!” I shouted. I got yanked—hard—and hit my chin on the ground. The impact made my teeth ache, but thankfully I didn’t bite off my tongue.

—

“Faithful!” Albus shouted. He watched the fear in her wide eyes as the monster that erupted from the ground dragged her backward. He turned sharply and ran after her. “Faithful!”

He got close to the monster and swung his sword. She screamed and recoiled away, as though he was aiming for her. He didn’t have time to reassure her that he wasn’t going to miss and hit her.

The monster bellowed and thrashed when Albus’ sword made contact with its wrist.

Unfortunately, it thrashed the hand that had her in its grip too.

Thankfully, it let her go.

Unfortunately, it let her go nearly ten feet off the ground.

Thankfully, she was still conscious.

Unfortunately, the monster came crashing back down and its clawed hand-like appendage—for lack of a better word—landed close enough to her that its claws gouged into her.

Thankfully, Albus’ injury seemed to scare it off. Huffing and grunting, it bounded across the squishy ground, breaking it on every stride, and disappeared around a ridge after a moment.

“Faithful!” Albus shouted, rushing over to where she’d fallen. “Faithful—oh gods. Faithful—faithful can you hear me?!” He fell to his knees beside her and started rapidly checking her over. Her eyes were still open and she was breathing, but seemed dazed. “Faithful—no don’t go into shock. Come on. Faithful!”

She made a small noise. A pained one.

“No. No. Don’t do this to me, faithful. Come on. C’mon, look at me. Stay with me, faithful. Please. Just—just stay—stay with me!” Albus begged, gently tugging the sides of the tears in her overcoat and underdress aside to examine the wounds. “Oh gods.” He swallowed. “You’re going to be fine. I promise. We’ll make sure of it. Just stay with me. You hear me? No passing out. No going into shock.”

She groaned, face screwing up.

Eyelids fluttering.

“No—don’t pass out.” He put pressure on the wounds on her side as best he could. The wounds were far bigger than his hands.

She hissed in pain, but didn’t seem to be able to speak.

“Faithful! Please—please don’t do this to me,” Albus pleaded. “Stay with me, you understand? Just stay—” He choked on a sob. “Just stay with me.”

He released the sob and let his whole body convulse from it.

“Devlin!” he shouted. His voice thick with emotion.

His faithful shuffled just a little—and grimaced at the movement. Her eyelids were half-closed.

“No. Don’t move. It’ll just make things worse. Hold still. Look at me, faithful. Look at my eyes. Please. Let me see those gorgeous eyes of yours. Come on. Even if you’re just going to roll them at me. Let me see.” He moved his hands to try and cover more of the wounds to staunch the bleeding.

“Al… bus…?” Her voice was small. Thin. Raspy.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s me, faithful. Just stay with me, okay? You’re gonna be okay, I promise. Just stay with me. Oh gods, please stay with me. You can’t—you can’t leave me.” He swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. Tears slid out of his eyes, down his face, and into his beard. “I’m gonna—i’m gonna try to get you inside while trying to keep pressure on your wounds. But—” He cleared his throat. “But you have to stay with me.”

She moaned quietly.

Albus looked around frantically. Trying to figure out how he could pick her up and keep putting adequate pressure on the gouges in her side.

“Faithful—faithful, please. Don’t pass out on me. Oh gods, stay with me. Come on, faith—”

“What the hell is going on out—sister? Albus what did you do?!” Devlin’s voice demanded.

“Oh shut up I didn’t do anything! We got attacked by a massive monster. It grabbed her!” Albus snapped back. “Are you just going to stand there and be useless or are you going to help me?”

Devlin shook off his surprise and rushed into action. “What do you need me to do?”

“Put pressure on her wounds. I’ll pick her up and we’ll get her to the medical ward. Do you know how to cauterize something this serious?”

“My medical knowledge is limited… the sister is the one who knows the most.”

“I know—but we can’t lose her!”

“We won’t. We’ll figure it out.”

“We’d better.” Albus swallowed. “Okay. On three, you put your hands on her wounds and I’ll switch to her other side and pick her up.”

“Okay.”

“One. Two. Three.” Albus hopped over her and let go of her wounds at the same moment Devlin put his hands where Albus’ had been. Albus scooped her up by her knees and shoulders and cradled her gently against his torso. “Let’s go. Quickly. She’s losing a lot of blood. If she loses much more there will be nothing we can do.”

“Okay.”

“Come on, faithful. Stay with me. We’re gonna get you inside,” Albus said softly.

—

Consciousness slowly swam back to me. I squinted against bright lights—and winced against something tight restricting my upper body.

I peeled one eyelid open, regretting it as it stung against the light.

To see Albus asleep in an uncomfortable-looking metal chair next to the gurney I was lying on. His chin was nearly resting on his chest—

And his hands and face were covered in blood.

I tried to gasp, but whatever tight thing was wrapped around me stopped me from doing so—and when I tried everything hurt.

Albus grunted and shuffled, inhaling deeply like he was waking up too.

“You look like hell,” I remarked.

His unfathomably dark eyes snapped open. “Faithful!” His exclamation was barely more than a breathy whisper. He lurched on the chair to get closer to me, reaching out for my hand—then seeing the blood on his and withdrawing.

Weakly, I reached out for his hands. He almost smiled and let himself take my hand in both of his. “How are you feeling?”

“You’ve asked a lot of stupid questions before. That one’s the dumbest,” I groaned.

“I know it’s stupid. But Devlin and I aren’t healers. We… we did our best. You’re still under a lot of sedation and heavy painkillers but… it seemed like the… polite question to ask, I guess.”

I grunted. “I take it that’s my blood on your hands?”

He looked down. “Yes,” he said.

“Hmm,” I mumbled. I tried to take a deep breath, but what must have been bandages didn’t let me move too much.

Albus looked down at our hands.

“Hey,” I said softly.

His eyes flicked up to meet mine through his enviously thick, long, dark lashes.

I managed a weak smile. “I stayed with you.”

—

Tagging some of my GB peeps who might enjoy: @gwenifred @halscafe @zozo-01 @miloeveryday38 @dollscircus  @staplesmainbitch

[oreomonsterhunter]

“Now get your shoes on, you big idiot”

Pairing: Johnny x reader (or OC)

Word Count: 1259

Genre: fluff

Warnings: language?

Summary: Johnny accidentally confesses his feelings for his best friend

You hadn’t seen Johnny in ages, so when he called you, even though it was almost midnight and you were so ready to go to bed, you answered without a second thought.  “Hello handsome,” you grinned, blinking sleepily.

“Oh sh—it’s late, I’m sorry,” Johnny grimaced.

You waved him off.  “I missed you,” you said simply.

“Missed you too, dork,” he said, smiling through the screen.

“Ok, so tell me everything, are you eating enough?  Sleeping enough?  Do I need to come and beat up your manager?”

There was that laugh you’d been missing.  “I’m fine, it’s the usual song and dance.  You know how it is—just packed schedules these days.”

You frowned at him, “I know, we haven’t met up in weeks.  Some bestie you are.”

“Hey, you better not replace me,” Johnny narrowed his eyes.

“If I did, I’d replace you with Mark,” you teased.  “Maybe Doyoung.  Or do you know BTS?  Can you introduce me to Jimin?”

Johnny groaned, “I know I’m not your bias, but you don’t have to rub it in every chance you get.”

“Shut up, everyone’s a Jimin stan, they just refuse to admit it.”

“This is what I get for having friends outside the industry.”

You snorted, “I’m your only friend outside the industry.”

“Are not.”

“Am too.”

Johnny grumbled, resigning himself to changing the subject, rather than engaging in another argument he had no hope of winning.  You smirked at your victory.

Thirty minutes later, though, your eyelids were drooping.  Johnny noticed right away, nose practically pressed to the screen.  “Hey, sleepy, time for bed,” he whispered dramatically.

“Nuh uh,” you shook your head, snuggling back into the pillows.

“Hang up, come on.  It’s late, you’re tired, I’m tired.  But you can sleep in tomorrow and I can’t.”

You pouted, “No fair, I’m coming to yell at SM.”

Johnny just laughed at you again.  “Alright, seriously go to bed.”

“You first.”

He sighed, shaking his head, “You’re so annoying.  Hang up and get some sleep.”

“Nope, you first.”

Johnny glared playfully, “No, you.”

You giggled back, “No, you.”

“I love you.”

“No, yo—what?” you blinked.  Johnny gaped back at you, face turning redder by the second.  His mouth opened and closed, and then he made a face and ended the call.  “Goodnight,” he muttered, and then your screen went dark.

You gaped at the screen.  He really just hung up on you?  After saying...wait, wait, hold up.  Had Johnny seriously just said he loved you?  Was that a confession?  A shitty confession, you deserved better.  Was it an accident?  Oh my gosh, what if he never meant to say that, had you imagined it?  No, he was way too nervous for that—

You shook your head, ignoring the thoughts spiraling in your tired brain.  How could you sleep now?  Only one thing to do—go to the source.

That’s how you found yourself at Johnny’s door sometime after one in the morning, wearing mismatched socks and sweats with holes in the ankles, and your shoe half falling off.  You smashed the doorbell again, sure that Johnny must be awake, he was just ignoring you like all the texts you’d sent on the way over.  He had his read receipts on, for goodness sake.  You could tell he was ignoring you, that big lug.

Finally, the door cracked open.  You opened your mouth to yell at him, but the look on his face stopped you.  And you knew.

Everything you wanted to say dissolved, and you couldn’t do anything but smile at him.  Those damn butterflies were back, you felt like you’d float away.  “Wanna go on a walk?”

That got Johnny to open the door.  He whipped it open, glaring at you, totally different from the unsure expression a few seconds ago.  “Are you crazy?  It’s late, go home, okay?  Actually no, it’s late, you shouldn’t walk on your own.  You can sleep on the couch.  Heck, I’ll take the couch and you can take the bed.”

Your smile only grew, watching him ramble the way your brain hadn’t stopped rambling since he hung up on you.  And you felt your thoughts drift into silence.  “I love you, too.  Now get your shoes on, you big idiot.”

For a moment, neither one of you moved, and you wondered if you broke him.  Furrowing your brow, you opened your mouth to ask him, but that’s when he moved.  Large hands cupped your jaw the way you’d been dreaming about, and his nose brushed yours oh so gently, and then your lips met.

And Johnny proceeded to, for lack of a better phrase, kiss the snot out of you.

Your knees wobbled, and Johnny walked you backwards without breaking the kiss, backing you up against the wall.  You gasped, trapped between the brick and the solid mass of Johnny in front of you.  Johnny pressed his advantage, diving deeper into the kiss.  He tasted like toothpaste, you noted distantly, too distracted by the feel of those lips.

He was only wearing a t-shirt outside, and the heat of him threatened to burn you, yet you couldn’t keep away.  You fisted the thin material, fingers brushing up against rippling muscle beneath, and pushed impossibly closer to him.  What you would give to just melt into him.  Johnny groaned softly, rocking forward and biting your lower lip.  His thumb brushed over your cheekbone, softer than you thought possible.

Then Johnny tensed, pulling away from you.  “I’m sorry, wait a second.  I should have asked,” he started to ramble again.

You shook your head at him, sweet boy.  Mama Suh had raised him well, but he was still dumb sometimes.  That’s why you loved him so much.

You didn’t bother trying to explain; you simply twined your arms around his neck and yanked his lips back to yours.  This time, it was your turn to nip at him, insistent that he resume that steamy kiss immediately.

Finally, who knows how many minutes or seconds or years later, you broke apart to breathe.  Johnny pressed his forehead into yours, and you grinned, feeling a bit drunk.  On the lack of sleep or his kisses?  Gosh, you’d just kissed Johnny, your best friend.  And you realized you’d happily kiss him forever.  How had you waited this long?  Or rather, why had you waited?  Apparently you’d been missing out on Mr. Pillow Lips for years.

As your breathing calmed, you opened your eyes, looking up to meet Johnny’s gaze.  He blinked at you, and your smile bloomed.  “Should we go on that walk now?” you asked, surprised to hear that your voice was a bit hoarse.

Johnny smiled at you, leaning back to look at you properly.  “You and I both need to sleep more.  I promise we’ll go on a walk another time.”

“Just sleep?” you asked innocently, fluttering your lashes at him.

“Just sleep, you menace,” he laughed, slinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you inside his apartment.  Your grin widened, thrilled that your best friend hadn’t gone anywhere.  You should have known better than to think that Johnny would let things get awkward.

You hummed thoughtfully as he led you through the apartment.  “I could exchange a walk for more kisses, I suppose,” you said, biting your lip.

“I just bet you could, princess,” Johnny smirked.  He let you go to flop on the bed.  When you stood in the doorway, a bit unsure, he propped himself up on his elbows, a twinkle in his eyes.  “But you’ll have to come and get them.”

* * * * *

Masterlist

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 8 – Walking My Baby Back Home

Chapter 1     Chapter 7

“Are you sure you should be lifting that?” Dick asked anxiously.  “Maybe I should…” He reached out and grabbed the bolts of fabric out of Marinette’s hands. Marinette squeaked in surprise as the weight of the fabric was suddenly lifted, nearly falling backward from the shift in weight.  Dick groaned under the unexpected weight, not expecting fabric to weigh so much.

“What are you doing?” She asked amused.

“You’re pregnant.  You shouldn’t be carrying this much weight,” Dick insisted.  “How were you carrying this much weight?  I swear this weighs more than you do.”

Marinette chuckled.  “This? This is nothing. I grew up in a bakery and helped stock the flour. Do you know how much one of those bags weighs?”  She looked away with an indulgent smile to look through more fabric.

Dick cocked his head to the side to think about her question.  How much did industrial sized bags of flour weigh?  He honestly had no idea.  But the idea of Marinette, little tiny, pixie-sized Marinette carrying heavy loads didn’t seem possible.  “No. How much?”

Marinette blinked a few times not expecting the response to her rhetorical question.  She wrinkled her nose as she thought about it.  Dick smiled at her expression, wishing his hands were free to pull her into a tight hug and snuggle.  “Um... I don't know in American measurements. But a lot. Like… 1000 hooves.”

Dick blinked at her a few times this time.  He looked at her uncertainly.  Was that a French term?  Was it a mistranslation?  That couldn’t have been what she meant to say.  It had to be a baking term.  “Hooves?”

“I don't know. I made up a unit, just like Americans do.  So, 1000 hooves.” She nodded in confirmation.

Dick leaned his head back to fully laugh, eyes crinkling, chest rocking.  Marinette took a moment from her search to appreciate how gorgeous he was when he laughed.  “Wow.  That much huh?” She nodded solemnly.  “I apologize for doubting you.  Now quit foal-ing around.  What do you think of these fabrics?  Yay or neigh?”

Marinette stared at him open mouthed for a few seconds.  “No.  Nope. Nuh uh.  I already have to deal with Papa and Adrien.  You are not allowed to make puns too.”  

“So you’re saying I need to reign it in or you’ll bolt?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.  She rolled her eyes at him but couldn’t stop herself from giggling and he laughed again. He stared at her for a few more seconds before sighing.  “I wish I wasn’t carrying these so I could kiss you.”

Marinette looked back in surprise until a sultry smile overtook her lips. “You could always set them down on the cutting table over there, you know.”

Dick followed where she was pointing and grinned back.  He quickly made his way to the table to drop off the bolts and rushed back to her side, picking her up as he rushed to her, then backed up between two overstuffed aisles.  Marinette let out a surprised giggle that turned into a full belly laugh at his excitement.  Dick’s watched her dreamily as she laughed.  “I hope our baby laughs like you.”

Marinette quieted immediately and looked at him in awe for a few moments. She smiled lovingly and traced the smile on his lips.  “I hope the baby has your smile,” she looked up to peer in his eyes, “and your eyes. You have the most beautiful eyes and the most captivating smile.  Your smile makes it hard to remember my name sometimes.”

Dick gazed at her, studying her features and thinking again how lucky he was to have her.  How amazing she was, kind, thoughtful, brilliant, creative, brave… he could list attributes all day.  “I like your eyes and smile better.  I guess we’ll have to have a second so they can have yours.  And that one can have my laugh.”

Marinette gaped at him, her face turned deep red.  “Um… how about we get this one out before we plan the next one.”

Dick’s face fell.  He’d pushed too far.  He’d gotten carried away again.  He was going to scare her at this rate.  He stopped when he felt Marinette’s kiss on his lips.  He melted into the kiss and moved to deepen it.  She pulled away after a few moments.  “I like that combination though.  And once I don’t feel like throwing up constantly, maybe we can think about starting to practice for the next one.”

Dick’s face lit up and he nodded excitedly, but quickly became concerned. “How are you feeling now?  Need to sit down?  Need water or food?”

Marinette giggled and pecked his lips quickly.  “I’m okay for now, but I anticipate needing something in my stomach in like… twenty minutes.”

Dick furrowed his brow.  “We should probably get going then.  It’ll take that long to find someplace and order.”

Marinette looked around anxiously.  “Good point, but I’m not done.  It’s… I need more time.  I don’t want to have to come back.  I’m actually feeling not terrible for a few moments today.  I can push it a bit.”

Dick shook his head and leaned his forehead on hers.  “The baby doesn’t like being pushed.  It’s quite insistent.  I’ll grab something quick and not messy from the store next door.  That should give you a bit more time, right?”

Marinette looked up at him relieved.  “Yes, thank you.  A snack should help.”

“I mean, I’m already right here,” he gave her a sly grin.  She cocked her head to the side in confusion.  “I’m a snack and I’m right here for you.”

“Oh my God,” her cheeks flushed and she buried her head in his chest.  She shook her head and gave him a playfully dirty look as he folded over in laughter.  “Believe me, I agree.  You are. But, how about one the baby can appreciate, not just me?”

He smiled and kissed her temple.  “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay. It should just be a few more minutes. Like… thirty minutes?” She offered apologetically.

It was not.  It was two hours and several snacks later by the time she had finally compared, sketched, tested, and finally selected the fabrics and taken them to get cut.  But that wasn’t the end of it like Dick expected. That just led to the next phase in shopping, the accessories.  She scrounged through all of the buttons, zippers, clasps, inserts, thread, and ribbon.

Dick had never known there was this much thought in an outfit.  And this was supposedly just a quick trip.  He couldn’t imagine a full trip.  He would have to make sure to be busy when that happened… unless she wanted his company or asked, in which case he’d say yes.  He sighed at himself.  He was whipped.  He looked over at Marinette’s shining face and couldn’t bring himself to care that he was. He would happily be whipped for her as long as he got to see that smile and be a cause for it.  No matter what she said, he hoped their baby had her smile. All of them.

“Hey, there’s a good little diner around here.  Want to get lunch there?” He asked when she was finally done and had arranged for them to drop it off later.

Marinette nodded happily.  “Yes.  I think the little one wants food now.  No more snacks.”  She absentmindedly rubbed her flat stomach.  The motion made Dick smile.  She was already so protective of the baby, which he could understand, he was too, of the baby and her.  He pulled her closer into his side and leaned down to kiss her cheek.  She looked back up at him with a brilliant smile and oh yeah, he was gone.

As soon as they walked into the diner, there was a loud, enthusiastic greeting for Dick from an older woman and a smile from the man in the kitchen who had peeked around to see him.  “Dickie!  It’s been too long.  How are you?” She brought him in for a hug.  Before he could answer she looked over at Marinette with a kind smile.  “And who is this?  Don’t tell me someone has finally caught you.”

Marinette smiled back at her and waved.  “Hi.  I’m Marinette, madame.”

The woman moved quickly to pull Marinette in for a hug as well. “Now, none of that.  I’m Kora.  Any friend of Dickie’s is family here.”

Marinette giggled and looked up at Dick with an impressed gaze. “Dickie is that good, huh?”

“Best teacher my grandson ever had.  Only one to get him interested in something constructive. But, come, come.  You didn’t come here to chat.”  She showed them to a table.  “Here are a few menus.  Let me know when you’re ready to order.”

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind catching up for a second.  How is Eddie?  How about Rachel?” Dick spoke up before she could get far away.

“Oh, you know Eddie.  He’s trying to stay out of trouble, but not too hard.  It doesn’t help that the police keep an eye on him constantly.  Makes him jumpy.  Makes all of us jumpy.  Rachel is doing great.  Eddie’s making sure she stays safe.  More responsibility than a young kid should take on, but what else can you do?  She loves school.  Taken a liking to clothing if you can believe it.”  Marinette perked up instantly.  “Decided she’s going to start designing them at fourteen.  Saves money I suppose.”

“Would she like to see someone do it?  Design I mean?”  Kora looked at her questioningly.  “I’m a designer.  I actually moved here because I’m working on designs with Wayne Enterprises.  I could take her with me to a meeting, if they are okay with it.  There’s some top secret things going on, so they might not want anyone else there, but if they’re okay with it, I can show her the process.”

Kora looked over to Dick looking for his input, but Dick was too engrossed looking at Marinette in awe to see Kora’s inquiry.  Kora laughed at him.  That was endorsement enough for her.  “Yeah, I think she’d like that.  I’ll give you my number.  We can arrange something.”

Marinette smiled excitedly and bounced in her seat.  “That sounds great!”  She looked back over to Dick as he took her hand.

“We better order before you start feeling sick.  Know what you want?”  When she nodded, they both placed their orders.  

“I was fourteen when I started entering design contests,” Marinette said excitedly.  “Hey, do you think Tim would be interested in sponsoring a design contest for kids?  I think kids like Rachel and me at that age, would really love it.”

Dick smiled proudly at her.  “I really think he would.  And I think Jason would probably be willing to help out too.”

Marinette nodded decidedly.  “I’ll talk to Tim about it at our meeting on Monday, the contest and Rachel.” She looked to the side for a moment and returned her gaze to him with a sly look.  “So… you teach gymnastics to kids?”

Dick looked down shyly.  “When I can. I haven’t in about a year because of other obligations, but… I miss it.  I really liked doing it.”

“I would pay to see that.  I bet it’s adorable.”

He smiled at the memory of the kids.  “Yeah they were.”

“Them too.”  She smirked and took a drink of her water, enjoying the sight of Dick blushing.  Her expression slowly morphed to more dreamy. “Maybe you can teach our baby.”

Dick perked up at the idea.  “I can’t wait.  I started when I was in diapers.  I’d like to pass that on to my kids.  Oh, speaking of that, I was wondering if you might be interested in doing some pregnancy yoga classes or we can YouTube it and do it at home.”

“We?”

He shrugged.  “I thought it might be something we could do together.”

“Yeah.  I think that might be fun.”  She squeezed his hand and blushed when he pulled her hand up to his lips to kiss the inside of her wrist.

They pulled apart when Kora came back with their food.  She gave them a knowing look as she set the food down for them.  “Young love. You two are adorable.”

Marinette blushed but Dick grinned.  “Hey, Kora?” Dick spoke up before she could turn to leave.  “What do you mean the cops are keeping an eye on Eddie?”

Kora sighed out.  “It’s like they’re waiting for him to mess up.  They’re constantly watching him.  We try to make sure he’s never alone and there’s always surveillance cameras somewhere but it’s just about impossible.  Honestly, I almost trust the gangs more.  At least they’ll try to keep him safe.”

Dick shook his head.  “I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

Kora shrugged.  “No accountability and a gun.  Who’s going to stop them?”  With that, she walked away to let them eat, leaving Dick to consider her words.

<><><><><> 

“So you’ve been doing gymnastics since you were in diapers?”  Marinette prompted Dick as they walked hand in hand through a park on their way back to her apartment.

Yep,” Dick confirmed doing an aerial front flip without breaking his stride.

Marinette pulled him to a stop so she could gape at him. “Oh yeah, by all means, pretend that’s completely normal.”

“What?” Dick asked innocently.

“Don’t give me that, show off.”

“What that ?  Oh!  That. That was nothing.  You should see what I could do if I was trying.” Dick shrugged casually, but the smug grin on his lips gave him away.

“Oh yeah, I could do that too, if the idea of being upside down didn’t make me want to throw up.  But just wait, in 10 months or so, I’ll show you a cartwheel that will knock your socks off,” she mock threatened him.

He grinned, a sincere, warm look in his eyes. “I can’t wait to see it.”  He did a side flip into a walk out without losing his breath.  “I’m going to have our baby out doing you by the time he or she is one.”

Marinette playfully narrowed her eyes at him. “Okay Mister gymnastics is in my blood. Let’s see what you can do when you try.”

Dick grinned and leaned down for a quick kiss before moving a bit away to start.  “Don’t blink, you’ll miss some amazing moves,” he winked at her before launching into a completely unprepared gymnastic routine.  He did flip after flip, moving through the air with an ease she didn’t even think she had even as Ladybug.  He jumped on the back of a bench with a single fluid movement, using it to launch into a double summersault flip. It went on for a few minutes at dizzying speed before his finale, using a water fountain to give him enough height for a triple flip.  Only he didn’t quite land it right.  He landed in an awkward, painful looking roll until he was laid flat out on his stomach.

Marinette stopped breathing as she waited for him to move. After a few seconds he still hadn’t moved.  Her heart faltered.  “Dick?” her voice was weak and uncertain.  “Dick?  Are you… are you okay?” the anxiety was becoming more apparent with every word. “Dick!” she ran to him, cursing herself for encouraging him and pushing him.  “Dick!”  Her hands were trembling as she turned him over to face her.

He looked up at her with a radiant smile.  “I guess this means I fell hard for you.”  

She stared at him for a few seconds while he curled up from laughing so hard. Tears started falling down Marinette’s cheeks while Dick continued to laugh.  He immediately froze when he heard her let out a sob.  He looked up at Marinette but she wasn’t kneeling above him anymore.  She had backed up a few feet and was sobbing into her knees.  “Marinette?” He reached out for her tentatively, her whole body was shaking.  “Marinette? Are you okay?”  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. “I’m sorry.  That wasn’t funny.  I’m sorry,” he whispered over and over again in her ear, breaking it up with the occasional kiss to her temple.

After a few minutes her cries started to quiet.  Dick brushed her bangs out of her eyes and wiped away her tears.  “I’m sorry, Marinette.  I wasn’t expecting you to take it so seriously.”

Marinette’s eyes flashed from distressed to anger in the span of a second. She backed away and shoved him in the shoulder.  She wanted to punch him instead but she wasn’t at a good angle to punch his perfect jaw and even as upset as she was, she knew that wasn’t okay.  “Seriously?  I wasn’t supposed to take it seriously?”  Dick stared at her in confusion… and pain.  That seriously hurt.  “I thought I pushed the father of my baby into killing himself.  I thought you got hurt or broke your neck because of me.  I thought you were hurt and I caused it,” she repeated again, tears starting to form again.

Dick’s expression softened and turned to guilt.  He was an idiot.  She was pregnant.  Her hormones were going crazy.  Not that he was stupid enough to mention that in his apology.  He watched her cry over a commercial the other day, not even a particularly sad one.  She was not in the frame of mind to accept jokes like this.  “I’m sorry,” he said again as he rubbed her arms and pulled her back into his chest.  “That was thoughtless and mean.  I’m sorry.”

After a few minutes she pulled away just enough to look up at him through glassy eyes.   “No, I’m sorry.  I absolutely should not have shoved you.  Normally I would have just rolled my eyes and pushed you back down, but these damn hormones.”

Dick nodded.  Again, not something he wasn’t going to agree with verbally though.  “Maybe I’ll do it again later.”

Marinette scoffed but pushed further into his embrace.  “Nope that one is done.  You’re going to have to come up with a new one.  I’m sure you can do something with flipping or flopping or making your heart do cartwheels.”

Dick grinned and hugged her closer.  “You’re taking all the best ones.”

Marinette smiled back and wound her arms around his neck.  “I already have the best one.”  She pulled him down for a kiss pushing all her anxiety and relief into it.

Chapter 9

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo

[khneltea]

Jasonette headcannon #1 section b.

Woah, so apparently y'all like this stuff. Uhm, takes inspiration from @mochegato and @SquareBrain on AO3

Previous

↬ Jason will never admit that he felt scared out of his wits as he rocked up to the shop

↬ nope, nuh-uh, never

↬ the store owner who stood a head shorter than him wasn't scary in the slightest

↬ so, dressed up in his best leather jacket and jeans, plus that old red shirt that may or may not have a bullet hole in it somewhere but was the best one he could find, he opened the door to the shop

↬ only to tremble in his boots at who was in the shop (whether it was anger or sheer fear, he will not admit to either and will deny all allegations of said trembling)

↬ inside was 2 of the biggest crime lords in Gotham, the one from the docks and the one from the underground, notorious for trying to tear each other's throats out, sitting peacefully on pretty pink cushions and enjoying pastries and tea out of tiny dainty tea cups

↬ what.the.actual.fuck.

↬ the glaringly pink (he supposed that was the theme) door to the right suddenly burst open and out comes the lady of the hour, and behind her was a very hot teenage girl (about 15 years old), but for some reason, he didn't really pay attention to her

↬ all eyes were on the two ladies, the hot one giggling away about a quinceañera while the owner of the shop smiled serenely, surveying the surroundings (probably checking if there was a gang war)

↬ her bluebell eyes popped out when they saw him (he says it was because he was handsome, but don't listen to him-)

↬ "hello! Welcome to my boutique, would you like to take a seat while checking our ready-made garments? Or are you here for a commision?"

↬ "uhhhhhhh..." Jason didn't think that far ahead. And it's hard going impromptu when there was a beautiful lady devoting all her attention on him

↬ she smiled like she knew exactly what he was thinking

↬ "why don't you take a seat, monsieur, and I'll help you out dans juste un instant (oh gosh, I'm sorry all you people who speak french who are going to call me out for using Google translate-)"

↬ so he's just sitting there, a tiny tea cup with little black cats and ladybugs on the sides held in his hands as he sees her negotiating a purchase with one of the mobster groups

↬ he nearly sighed in relief when the crime lord by the docks left with the gorgeous girl (probably his daughter now that he thought about it) after leaving a heavy briefcase and a business card in exchange for a beautiful sleek gown and matching accessories

↬ kinda scared him how friendly they both seemed to the store owner and how...warm that look in both the father and daughter's eyes were

↬ and he couldn't help but flinch when the crime lord from Gotham underground (is this a thing-) grins while the blue eyed woman started taking his measurements

↬ "doll, you're always welcome to come over anytime. You're good at business, I need more people like that."

↬ she has the fucking audacity to laugh. Laugh, I tell you

↬ "non, non, monsieur. I am quite happy with my little shop over here. Besides, the young ones would miss my pastries too much if I moved."

↬ he waved a hand. "Those street rats? If that's all that it takes to get you on my side, then consider them to be in better protection and care than those kids Wayne adopts every 5 seconds."

↬ got to say, his heart went thump when he pieced together that she took care of the street kids

↬ she grins "well, you're already giving them protection for living in my block, so that's all I need. Don't worry about the rest, I've got it covered."

↬ the crime lord shrugs. "Eh, I don't really care about the brats. But you, you're the one that needs protecting. Where else will I be getting these good suits that don't tear all the goddamn time from knives and guns? Plus, what's another 5 or 6 men patrolling this area to keep my favourite designer safe? If it makes you happy that they're inadvertently looking out for the kids, then better for me."

↬ wait those suits protected him from knives and guns????? Who the hell was this woman???

↬ smiling in response, but not as brightly anymore, she stood up, jotting down some notes in her book

↬ "alright, monsieur, you'll have to come in to a fitting on Saturday, presumably before your interaction with Monsieur Falcone at 1pm, so would it be presumptuous to ask if you come in at 10:30?"

↬ "not at all, my dear! it's a pleasure of doing business with you"

↬ "also, preferably, don't wear the flashy red suit you have, might i recommend the blue one from the fitting before last week's? Monsieur Falcone would gladly appreciate the red suit blaring in his eyes after the concussion he received recently"

↬ wait

↬ how the fuck did she know that

↬ falcone got that last night (he should know, he gave it to him)

↬ and the only ones who should know about it right now are him, Falcone, and no one else

↬ either this kid was magic, or she was Alfred level shit (he's still not convinced that Alfred is fully human)

↬ "thanks doll" and the crime lord leaves

↬ she turns to him, smiles and everything

↬ "alright, monsieur hood, what would you like to purchase today? or are you still having difficulty choosing?"

↬ uhm fuck ok

↬ how the hell do you talk to pretty, badass women that can probably take over the entirety of Gotham in a day

↬ "uhhhhhh got anything in red that doesn't make me look like a fucking period stain?"

↬ she giggled in a way that you know it's not flirting but just generally found it funny, and he thought it was the creation of the universe

↬ "i'm sure we can find you something, monsieur hood."

↬ proceeds to pull him up (what the fuck she was so strong for such a tiny girl) and lead him to the back room

↬ fabrics upon fabrics upon fabrics lay everywhere in chaos, but he felt like if he moved something, the balance of the room would be upset

↬ finally comes to a bar that ran from one end of a rack to the other, thin fabrics lining it

↬ the blue-eyed girl takes a beautiful black silk cravat with red embroidery that boldly stood out (yes, he knows what a cravat is, sue him for wanting to know what Mr Knightley, Mr Bingley, and Mr Darcy wore in the books) and drapes it over his neck, critically eyeing it

↬ in the process, pulling him down by the neck to look at it and being very close to her pink plump lips

↬ uhm fuck what do i do what do i say who am i what is life what the fuck austen you didn't prepare me for this-

↬ "as i thought", she says, "this is a good colour scheme for you, but probably more of a black with a tinge of brown and a more muted red colour scheme for everyday use."

↬ she walks away and comes back with a measuring tape and measures his neck, shoulders, arms, and starts measuring around the torso

↬ he doesn't even register this because of how efficient she is and because he was used to it from living with Bruce fucking Wayne (he won't admit that he was just too distracted by the way her dainty little fingers brushed against the back of his ears as she leaned forward to check the measurements, nor when they fluttered against his biceps and chest)

↬ when she's done, she starts writing measurements and mumbling under her breath, which snaps him out of his stupor

↬ "why did you take my measurements?"

↬ "a good cravat needs a good suit, and what better than for me to make a matching one when I have the time and resources to do it?"

↬ she fucking grinned at him like a devious minx who knew more about him than she should and he melted a bit. 

↬ just a little bit.

↬ turning around, she stuck her hand out, still smiling like a fucking seductress

↬ "I'll be making your suit and cravats, let's hope to a wonderful relationship, it's going to be a pleasure working with you."

↬ he tried to match her smile, but ended up feeling like a dork with his heart beating 200 times a second. and he felt like an even bigger dork when he took her hand and gave her a small kiss on the knuckles. "believe me, the pleasure is all mine, dove. might i dare, i fain would ask, for your sweet name? that while a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, i feel that yours would double in so."

↬ she smiled back at him.

↬ "why, good sir, it is a good show of faith in the honey to the flower of life, as Hugo quotes, but I wish you would take me to dinner first before such matters. My name, you ask? It is Marinette, Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

↬ He smirked. "My name is Jason Todd."

↬ "I know, Monsieur Hood."

↬ "Wait, how the fuck do you know-"

[mypoisonedvine]

First Chanukah Together (Night 2) | Ari Levinson x reader

(you can read night 1 here, it’s not at all necessary to understand the plot of this one though!  this one doesn’t really have a plot anyways skdjghakjghsd)

summary: you really, really like ari’s beard.  he reminds you why.  (basically there’s no plot at all it’s just smut, guys.)

word count: bit over 1.3k

warnings: smut!! (oral f receiving), beard kink, other than that just fluff and religious references (all of these are gonna have religious references it’s chanukah themed!!)

"Anything good on?" you asked as you sat down on the couch, watching Ari on the floor as he adjusted the dials on the TV, flipping through the channels mindlessly.

"Just Christmas movies," he frowned.

"We need a good Chanukah movie," you realized.  "Are there any?"

"There's Fiddler on the Roof,” he shrugged.  “That one's also a Rosh Hashanah movie, and a Yom Kippur movie.  And a Passover movie."

"So it's sort of an all-purpose Jewish movie."

"Pretty much, yeah," he laughed.  "At least, in my family."

"I guess they don't show it on TV out here," you realized.

"Nope," he agreed, "just a lot of White Christmas."

"Oh hey, that Rudolph special is kinda cute," you commented as you saw him flip past it.

"Cute?!  Those clay people freak me out," he shuddered.

“You may be the most fearless man I know, but you’re afraid of a stop-motion baby reindeer,” you chuckled.  “You’re a trip, Ari Levinson.”

"It's getting pretty dark out, would you light the second candle?” he requested as he motioned to the menorah in the window.  You nodded and got up to do so, realizing how dark it was from the way you couldn’t see much of anything outside through the glass— just the reflection of the candles, and the light cast by the TV behind you.  Ari’s profile was always stunning, but in the faint blue-ish glow of the screen, you found yourself ogling a little bit.  You didn’t get many chances to look at him uninterrupted; he usually noticed and started teasing you, but now he couldn’t see you staring at all.  

“Please never shave your beard,” you blurted out suddenly as you turned to face him again.  “Or cut your hair.”

He looked up at you from the floor, smirking a bit.  “Really?  I was kinda thinking about at least getting an inch or two off the hair,” he admitted, running his fingers through it.  “It’s gettin’ sorta shaggy.”

“I like it that way,” you announced as you knelt down to join him on the floor, only to yelp in surprise as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him suddenly, both of you toppling onto the ground.

“Do you?” he pressed, leaning in to kiss your neck— his beard tickled you a little when he did that, and it made you shiver in his strong embrace.

“Y-yeah,” you nodded weakly.  His body weight pressing you into the floor was relaxing in one sense, and invigorating in another.  As his arms reached up to rest on either side of your head, caging you in, and his hips slotted in between your legs, you found yourself biting down on your lip without realizing you’d done it.

“You don’t think it makes me look like a hippy?” he chuckled, kisses trailing down to your collarbone; when the neckline of your sweater got in the way, he pulled it down and kept going.  You couldn’t find the energy to worry about him stretching out your favorite top, focusing instead on the way his lips felt against your skin— and the way you could almost feel him getting hard through his jeans when he pushed up against you just right.

“Kinda,” you admitted, barely able to keep track of the conversation as he kept moving lower and lower, “but it’s… I dunno, it’s hot.”

“Sounds like you do know,” he mocked as he moved his body down on top of yours, his head resting just above your stomach.  Your disappointment must’ve shown on your face because he started laughing.  “What’s wrong, pretty baby?”

“Um,” you stalled, having to focus to keep your hips from bucking up towards him.

“Just tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he shrugged.

A pang of need hit inside you, as if you needed reminding of what you wanted.  “Ari, need your mouth, please…”

He smirked and slid down that last little bit, grabbing your fuzzy pajama pants and pulling them down to your ankles— and your underwear along with them.  “What are you all wet for?” he cooed, stopping for a moment to kiss inside your thighs.  You could tell he was intentionally rubbing his beard against your sensitive skin, letting the ends of his long hair tickle you in a… specific place.

“Fffuck,” you stammered in lieu of an answer.

“Is this all for me?” he pressed.

“Yes,” you nodded quickly.

“You smell so good,” he purred.  You couldn’t be sure if it was the way his voice got deeper and darker that made your spine tingle and your nipples harden instantly, or if it was the filthy words that voice was actually saying.  It was sort of embarrassing when he said stuff like that, but in a way you had grown to find quite enjoyable.  Once he’d figured out your sensitivity to praise— especially that kind of praise— he’d taken every opportunity to exploit it.  “Bet you taste even better,” he finished as he dove in between your legs, licking a long, slow stripe through your folds.

You could feel his beard against your pussy and you thought you might die.

“Ari,” you moaned, “fuck.”  You let your head fall back against the floor, which he corrected instantly with a light slap on your thigh.

“Nuh uh, baby, wanna see those pretty eyes while I taste your cunt, okay?  Don't look away."

You were pretty sure it wasn't about him seeing your eyes, though; it was about you seeing him do this to you.  Those blue eyes of his pierced right through you as he latched his lips onto your swollen clit, your back arching instantly of its own accord.

You could feel him smile a little as he kept working you, tongue laving over every sensitive spot he could find— which, it turns out, is a lot.  Even more came into play as he pressed two thick fingers inside you.

"Ari, baby," you whimpered, pushing back against his hand.  Just his fingers were enough to get so deep inside you; it was a wonder you were able to take his cock at all.  "Right there," you sighed.

"Think I don't know that?  You're about to come already," he laughed as he licked your clit again.  Your fingers laced into his hair, tightening and tugging at the roots without really meaning to.  The long ends were swinging against the insides of your thighs as you rocked back onto his hand and face, and it made your whole body erupt into goosebumps.  "Come on my tongue, pretty baby," he encouraged darkly, "wantcha to soak this beard you like so much with your come."

"Fuck, 'm gonna," you hissed, "so close, please please don't stop."

The hand holding your thigh gripped you a little tighter, just as the fingers inside you curled a little harder.  Pressure seized up in your gut as you felt your walls clenching on him; warmth spread from between your legs, specks of color danced behind your eyes.  You heard his name before you even realized that it was you who said it.  

When his fingers slipped out of you and his face emerged from between your thighs, he was grinning so wide that it was impossible not to smile with him.  “That was…” you searched for the right word, still catching your breath, “unexpected.”

You giggled when he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his beard nearly dripping with your arousal even as he tried to clean it off a bit.  “I bet I’ll be able to smell your cunt for days ‘cause of this.”

“Don’t be mad cause I gave you what you asked for,” you shrugged.

He leaned in to hover above you, ghosting his lips over your ear and pressing his hips between your legs so you could feel how hard his cock had become.  “Oh, I’m not mad,” he assured darkly, sending a shiver up your spine just with his voice, “but I’m not anywhere near done with you yet.”

[adhd-disaster-willie]

seventeen and strung out on confusion; chapter 3/4

chapter 1

chapter 2

So for the sake of this fic, we’re pretending that Alex is actually the youngest and he turned 17 right before the Orpheum. :)

This chapter is a little short, but writers block has been killing me recently.

Warnings: Mentions of homophobia

---

July 7, 1995

Alex remembers Luke once telling him that it would be cool if the weather could shift to match your mood. Like if you were sad, it would start raining in the middle of July, or if you were happy, all the clouds would clear. Alex thought that was stupid, until he woke up on his 17th birthday with the sun shining on his face and not a cloud in sight. It was summer in California so he wasn’t really expecting it to be a gloomy morning, but nonetheless, he’d been hoping it would at least be a little cloudy.

Now, Alex had nothing against birthday’s in general; but considering it was his first birthday away from home and living in a garage (not to mention, having to sleep next to Luke who talked in his sleep and could not stay still. He and Reggie had done rock paper scissors in figuring out who’d get the mattress in the loft and who’d have to sleep on the pull-out with Luke. Alex had lost) he wasn’t feeling very celebratory.

Alex pulled his blanket over his eyes, half-hoping he could just sleep through the day, but apparently his friends had other plans.

“Alex!” Luke called, tossing himself onto the bed and almost sending Alex careening over the edge.

Alex yelped and shot up, glaring at Luke. “What the hell, man?”

“Happy birthday!” Reggie piped up, waving enthusiastically from the loft, promptly followed by a soft shriek, likely from Bobby slapping his shoulder. “What?” Reggie whispered. “I’m just-”

“Dude,” Bobby hissed, nodding his head in the direction of a miserable, exhausted Alex, with horrible bed-head that did nothing to help the fact that he already looked like a vampire that’s just been pulled from his coffin after 100 years. Reggie opened his mouth in recognition, before closing it and smiling apologetically.

Alex pulled the blanket back over his head as if he were a disgruntled 12 year old being forced to dress as a sheet ghost. “Can I go back to sleep now?” He asked from inside the blanket.

“Nope!” Luke replied, pulling the blanket off of Alex’s head and earning himself several mumbled curse words. “We’re going to keep you distracted all day-”

“I’d be pretty distracted if I were sleeping,” Alex grumbled.

“We’re gonna make gingerbread cookies since those are your favorite and you love baking-”

“I was having a really good dream.”

“And Bobbers found an ice-skating rink that is somehow not melted-”

“Why would it be melted?” Reggie asked. “They have like… stuff to keep it frozen right?”

“I was a fish. In the dream. Surprisingly calming.”

“Wait what keeps it frozen though?”

“The water was pink,” Alex sighed, sinking further down until he was hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Sciencey stuff,” Reggie replied to Luke, very matter-of-factly.

“You guys weren’t in the dream,” Alex mused. “Probably why it was so quiet.”

His three friends turned to him now, faces contorted in various degrees of offense. Alex only continued to scowl at them.

“Low blow, man,” Bobby said, shaking his head remorsefully.  

Luke clapped Alex on the back and grinned. “Well! It’s a great thing we woke you up, cause now you don’t have to be a boring fish with no friends.”

“I had friends. Fish friends.”

“Doubt it. Now stand up.”

“What if we just practice. I mean we’re playing the Orpheum in like two weeks-” Alex was interrupted by Bobby’s hand over his mouth.

“Shut up, dude! Do you know how much persuasion it took to get Luke not to make us practice all day?!”

“A lot,” Reggie clarified, looking at Alex with wide eyes. “He gets the loft mattress for a week,” he sighed dismally.

It took several more minutes for Alex to be fully dragged out of bed, and it wasn’t for another hour that he was dressed and standing in Bobby’s kitchen, glaring at the oven.

Alex’s stomach tied itself in knots and he fiddled anxiously with the hem of his shirt. He knew his friends had good intentions, and they really were just trying to keep him distracted. But Alex did not want to bake. Especially not gingerbread, even though they were his favorite and he hadn’t them since… Well he hadn’t had them since the day he’d been kicked out. But he wasn’t gonna tell the band that and ruin this for them. Staring at the ingredients they’d already taken the time to lay out (and in order of what got mixed in first too! Just like Alex liked it), Alex’s mouth felt dry and bitter.

Baking had been his and his Mom’s thing. It was the only “feminine” thing she let him do without glowering at him. And every December, they’d spend days making hundreds of gingerbread cookies to pass out to friends and neighbors. Last year, he didn’t get to help make the cookies and every one he ate tasted like cardboard. Alex settled his hands on the edge of the counter in a futile attempt to stop them from trembling. These were just cookies. Stupid cookies. And at least they weren’t making the cake his mom had made him every year for the first 15 years of his life. Lemon with chocolate frosting, Luke hated it but Alex had always refused to cave and make a normal chocolate cake. But this wasn’t the cake, so there was no need for Alex to get worked up. And yet, his whole body felt like it was made of tightly wound springs and he just wanted to cry.

“I feel like that’s not enough sugar,” Luke mumbled underneath his breath. “Alex, come look at the recipe, that’s not enough sugar, right?” He poked Alex’s shoulder and earned no response.

Alex shook his head, not really processing what Luke had asked over the buzzing in his ears. He looked down at the counter again and felt sick. So he ran. It wasn’t until the three other boys heard Now or Never begin very aggressively that they shared a knowing look and jogged off to the garage.

Alex was only half paying attention to his movement, it really was muscle memory at this point. He choked back tears, guilt rising like bile in his throat. They were only trying to help, and he’d ruined it. But he couldn’t make gingerbread; it would only remind him of the way his parents unconditional love gained conditions as soon as he stepped out of line, as soon as he didn’t quite fit into their nuclear family. He almost scoffed at the thought, because really, his family had been far from perfect, they were just good at keeping things shoved underneath the rug. But apparently Alex being gay was too big a dust bunny for them to sweep up.

A sudden cough from the entrance of the studio snapped Alex from his trance. His drumsticks fell quickly to his sides and he looked up, swallowing thickly and trying to rid himself of the lump in his throat. Reggie stopped wringing his hands together to wave and offer a weak smile. “Hey Lex,” He said quietly.

Alex sighed, running his hands over his face. “I’m sorry,” He said. “I- I know you guys were only trying to help but I just-”

“We know,” Luke interjected, earning a glare from Bobby. “Don’t look at me like that! I’m making it so he doesn’t have to explain and start crying again!” He stuck his tongue out at Bobby before continuing. “Gingerbread… we uh, we didn’t think it through.”

Alex nodded. “Thanks,” he whispered sincerely.

“Do you still want to bake though?” Reggie asked. “We can make something else-”

“Can we just practice?” Alex twirled his drumsticks. “I’m already ready.” He smiled hopefully at his friends, two of which let out frustrated groans. Luke was beaming comically.

“Aw man, but then I gave up the loft mattress for nothing!”

“Dude, I’ve been sticking up for you all day, but Lexi. Come on.”

Luke slapped a hand over each of their mouths. “Practice sounds great!” He shouted. “I mean, don’t you guys want to make Alex feel better?”

Reggie and Bobby shared a look. Alex tapped his cymbals lightly and smiled. “Can’t forget the-”

“The Orpheum, we know!” Reggie whined. “But that’s two whole weeks away and my hands are still cramping from yesterday. We practiced for 6 hours!”

“6 hours,” Bobby repeated grimly, shuddering.

Alex grinned wickedly before standing up and throwing an arm each over Reggie and Bobby’s shoulders. “Come on, it’s my birthday.”

“You can’t just suddenly be okay with it being your birthday! That’s not fair!”

“Nuh uh, birthday card is illegal. And just yesterday you almost hit Luke for asking you to play that one drum line again,” Bobby reminded him. But he was already slinging his guitar over his shoulder.

Reggie picked up his bass, pouting. “On my birthday, I’m gonna make you and Luke practice alone while Bobby and I watch.”

“For 6 hours,” Bobby tacked on.

Alex shook his head and laughed. “Deal.”

They never made it to Reggie’s birthday.

---

...sorry about the last sentence, please don’t hate me :)

The next chapter will be about Alex coming out to Julie, because mlm and wlw solidarity and also I can’t write a fic without Julie in it, that’d be treason.

Taglist: @stars-soph, @thatsmyverb

chapter 4

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Yanois - Creating A Family

I started thinking about how Yancy and Illinois might take a step forward in their relationship. Normally, creating a sense of 'family' would be a good commitment to something long-term.

Then I remembered this equation included Illinois, and it wouldn't be something normal like a puppy.

Word Count: 1,925

-

"Nope. Nuh-uh. That's it. I'm officially calling bullshit." Yancy pulled away from the table where Illinois had been showing him photos of his last expedition in caves located in the southern half of the state once his classes had finished for the day. "I know youse is fond of these tall tales, but this is absolute bullshit."

"Yancy, darling, I expected better from you. I thought you know I always tell the truth about what happened while I was out of town. You know I’d never lie to you." The archaeologist put a hand to his heart to further emphasise this sense of betrayal, along with a pained expression that, to Yancy, was simultaneously fake and genuine.

"Youse is talking about meeting a dragon and that dragon asking a favour. We all know dragons ain't real."

"Have you met a dragon?"

"No."

"Then how do you know they aren't real?"

" 'Cause if they was real, they'd be all over the news. Youse know celebrities and other wealthy uppity-fucks would want a pet dragon so theys could show how big and important they is. And this ain't even considering- " Illinois cut Yancy off by abruptly shushing him. Annoyed by the interruption - Illinois was oddly obsessed with keeping everyone quiet today - Yancy scowled and folded his arms. In a quiet expression of gratitude for the silence, Illinois rested a hand on Yancy's left arm.

"Darling… I did meet a dragon while exploring those ruins… and I was entrusted with a special mission." Illinois took a slow breath and checked their surroundings to make sure no one had entered the makeshift classroom. He pulled one of Yancy's arms out of the fold so he could hold Yancy's hand and lead him to the desk. The prisoner had noticed it was messy, which wasn’t like Illinois at all. The briefcase was lying flat on the desk, with his jacket in a large ball on top of it. Illinois normally hung that on the back of the chair, so the chance of mannerisms was odd. Before Yancy could even consider how to ask if something was wrong, Illinois tugged his hand to encourage him to crouch down in front of the desk. Then, reaching over to the jacket, he gently lifted a sleeve to reveal what was hiding underneath.

"What the fuck…" Yancy leaned in to examine it better, though Illinois yanked him back before he got too close. A reptile's head that was smaller than Yancy's hand was poking out of the material. Its scales were ochre, with a pair of tiny horns on the top of its head. Several small protrusions trailed down either side of its jaw. It was asleep, blissfully unaware of the human staring at it. Illinois's attention was on Yancy, carefully assessing the reaction. Just as Yancy was about to express doubt, Illinois lifted more of the jacket out of the way to show part of the upper body and -

"Is that a wing?" Yancy whispered. Illinois nodded. "But what - how - youse -?"

-

Illinois shook his head and put a finger to his lips. Yancy clasped his hands over his mouth with an apologetic look. Illinois draped the 'blanket' back over the dragon chick and lifted a journal sealed shut with a lock. He led Yancy back to the table they had been originally standing by. The prisoner didn't object, instead reeling at what he just saw.

Illinois pushed some of the books aside so he could place down the journal. Yancy didn't know much about it, bar that it was filled with notes that Illinois kept for himself, rather than for use in classes or talks. It was old, with a worn black leather cover and pages bulked out with things stuck on over years of writing in it. In the entire time Yancy had known Illinois, this was the first time he had seen Illinois fetch the key from around his neck and unlock it. Illinois flipped through the journal to find what he was looking for, and Yancy could catch glimpses of various photos: old items, a large wolf, something with a long neck coming out of water. Then, Illinois found the notes he was looking for and passed the journal to Yancy. To the prisoner's utter bewilderment, there were several photographs stuck onto the two pages. At first, it was simply cave photos with focus on odd rock formations or mysterious animal trackings, then a large winged reptile with shimmering copper scales glaring down at the camera. Underneath was some writing in scratch-like symbols, with a small circle of the page scorched. Illinois’ signature was underneath it. Yancy was allowed the time to stare at the pages, dumbfounded, as Illinois quietly explained himself.

"I met the dragon guarding this tiny baby. It was the last of a clutch to hatch, the runt of the brood. Her mate had brought the other chicks, which were at least two seasons older, to a colder location to help them develop. The youngest wouldn't be able to survive such a journey, no matter how careful the parents were, due to her fragility. The mother made me promise to keep her safe until it was safe for them to return to the caves." Illinois leaned over Yancy's shoulder to turn the page. A photo of the young golden dragon curled up in a nest in the cave was pasted on the left side, while some writing on the opposite side was cut off by tiny bite marks that had torn a corner of the paper.

"I'm only to be a guardian to help keep her safe until her family can collect her, but I can't help but feel a sense of attachment already. I've named her Aurelia, though she is a special little miracle." When Yancy's eyebrow quirked in confusion, Illinois continued, "As I said, she is the runt - that is to say, the youngest who suffered a minor complication before her egg was laid. Her chances of survival were slim, but me arriving when I did truly saved her life. She's at the age where she needs to be kept warm while she sleeps so she has as much time to grow… But she's so energetic and curious about the world when she is awake. I’ve already caught her flapping her wings after climbing somewhere taller than her, even though she’s far too young to fly. I know she’s going to grow up into someone wonderful…” Another page was flipped, revealing a collage of photographs of Aurelia: her asleep over several history books, her trapped under Illinois' hat, even a selfie of the pair. It made Yancy hesitate as he looked at Illinois.

"But… if youse is 'sposed to be keeping her safe, why tell me? Don't that go against that promise?"

"I tell you because I trust you with all my heart… and I want you to -" Illinois' head sharply turned at a sound that was so faint, Yancy had missed it completely. The archaeologist hurried over to the desk and lifted the bundle into his arms. It was gently rocked as he moved some of the light fabric out of the way. "I thought I heard you stirring, young lady. You had a nice big sleep, didn't you? You didn't even make a peep when everything was so loud and busy!"

Yancy was briefly stunned. He wasn't used to familial bonds of any sort anymore, yet something about how Illinois behaved toward Aurelia was so endearing to him, like a doting parent in that children's movie he had watched with Sparkles McGee. Was it bad that he wanted to see this side of Illinois more often? 

"I have someone special for you to meet since you’ve been so good all day." As though reading his mind, Illinois made his way over to the prisoner. It was clear why Illinois was so enamoured by the chick. In stark contrast to the body, her big eyes were sky blue. They were locked on the stranger while her head tilted slightly in curiosity. "This is Yancy. Yancy, this is Aureli- hey!" Yancy gasped as the dragon suddenly began chirping and squirming in Illinois' hold.  

"Easy there, sweetheart! He's not going anywhere!" Illinois laughed, before grinning at Yancy. "She wants you to hold her. I promise she won’t bite."

"But I dunno how -" Yancy tried to answer, but Aurelia interrupted with a hiss as she continued trying to tug herself out of Illinois' jacket. "Okay, okay! I'll try. B-but I hope you knows I ain't used to being around anyone so tiny." It didn't stop Illinois from unwrapping the jacket and freeing the chick. The moment she felt the material being pulled away, Aurelia pounced at Yancy, who barely had a moment to catch her with both hands under her front legs.

"Hold your arm like this - no, no, just a little higher - perfect." Illinois spoke softly as he guided Yancy on how best to hold Aurelia in the crook of his arm. She was around the size of a chihuahua and was quick to nestle against Yancy with her stomach facing up. "Oh, that's a good sign. She trusts you." The prisoner gave Illinois a look of concern, but decided to bite the bullet and rub a finger under her neck. To his surprise, Aurelia made a noise that almost sounded like a laugh as she suddenly wriggled. Yancy stopped abruptly in alarm, which prompted Aurelia to lift her head and look at him. She growled in confusion. With a nod of encouragement from Illinois, Yancy repeated his action, switching it up from lightly scratching her neck to tickling her. This time, he didn't stop as the young dragon's tail lashed against his arm in her delight. When she was given a moment to catch her breath, she scrambled up to rest her back legs on his arm and her forearms against his chest so she could reach up and nuzzle Yancy's jaw with what he could only compare to a pigeon coo. 

"I may have been telling her about you before today," Illinois admitted as Yancy cautiously scratched the back of her head. "When I told her I was coming here, she was adamant in coming along. She was very excited to meet her foster papa."

"F-Foster papa?"

"Of course. I'm her foster father, and you're my partner. So it makes sense that -"

"N-no, I get that but… You sure about this? It's a big jump in our relationship since I’m still in here and youse two will be out there a-and it's a dragon which I dunno shit about and - I-I didn't even know dragons existed until ten minutes ago." 

"Easy, tiger. Slow down." He kissed Yancy on the cheek to interrupt the panicked rambling. "I'm very sure. I told you I wanted you in my life, remember? That includes whatever makes up my family. It just wouldn't be the same without you, if you ask me." Aurelia lightly bit Yancy's chin, almost seeming to be agreeing with her foster father. Though he was a little doubtful, Illinois’ reassuring smile was enough for Yancy to lower his guard.

"A family… It's been a long time since I thought myself part of one of them." Aurelia lightly headbutted Yancy’s chin as though quietly affirming that this was real.  He laughed and scratched her cheek. “Youse is already getting to be quite the charmer like your foster father, y’know that?” He paused, throwing Illinois a suspicious look. “No making tiny hats for her.”

“No promises, sugar.”

[ve1vetyoongi]

mic drop | the drabbles #2

𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐏 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄 #𝟐 | 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary: When Yoongi catches you taking pictures of him while he practices, he finds a unique way to punish you.

word count: 2086

warnings: Dom!yoongi, fingering, nipple play, unprotected penetrative sex, dirty talk, use of toys kind of???

genre: Smut, fluff.

a/n: this drabble is best read after my one shot mic drop!!! but the smut can be read alone if you so wish ☺️ i missed writing this couple sm so i hope you enjoy <3

[before namjoon wins mic drop #1]

"I didn't know you like to take photos."

The gravelly voice that bounced around the practice room made you jump, nearly enough to drop the camera in your hands. You recognised it immediately, though, and the familiar chuckle that followed set you at ease

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me Min Yoongi.”.

A pair of dark eyes landed on you hunched on he couch, a hot blush rising in your cheeks as you kept your gaze desperately focused on the camera viewfinder, just flicking through a couple shots as you willed yourself not to give in to him. 

He was smirking when you finally looked up, unable to resist, tongue between his teeth cheekily. "Like what, huh?"

The way you rolled your eyes made him chuckle and you felt your heart leap. You narrow your eyes, eager to change the subject. "Does Namjoon know you're here?"

"Nope."

"Don't you have to rehearse?"

"Yup."

The hairs on your arms rose to attention when Yoongi slumped onto the couch beside you, shoulders brushing just barely. He quickly shuffled to the side to allow a more comfortable distance between you, a trace of a blush caressing his own cheeks.

Yoongi cleared his throat and then his eyes glint with a smile that he desperately tried to wipe from his lips. "I could rehearse, but I'd much rather see your pictures."

He reached over to whip the camera from your grasp, ignoring your pleas of protest. A mixture of fear and embarrassment settles in your stomach when he jumped to his feet before you could stop him and held the camera above your head,out of your reach where he can take in the image you gazed at on the viewfinder moments ago with wide eyes.

"Yoongi I can explain—"

"These — these pictures are of me?" He had settled on a recent photo, one of him rapping passionately into a mic. One of your favourites.

Your arms hugged your torso, eyes downcast in defeat and embarrassment at your guilty pleasure being uncovered. "S-sorry I'll delete them, I just needed someone to practice with—"

The shock on his features dissipated to a small smile and you breathed a shaky sigh of relief when he nodded carefully in understanding.

"They're good. Keep them."

Yoongi thrust the camera back into your hands, scratching his neck awkwardly. His fingers brushed yours in his haste and you made brief eye contact, heart pumping so loudly you were sure he could probably hear it.

His eyes dipped to your lips and he opened his mouth as if to say something but the moment was broken too soon.

"Yoongi?" Namjoon barked, head poking around the door frame and eyes narrowing when he settled on the two of you. Yoongi jolted, jumping away from you like a live wire.

"Get your ass out here. We have work to do."

Yoongi's gravelly voice sends chills down your spine as you sneak into the club through the back door he has a habit of leaving unlocked.

He doesn't notice your arrival, not even when you climb the stage steps with wide eyes, watching him through the glare of red and blue strobe lights as he raps into a water bottle with enough passion to fill the room with a heady excitement, like he's performing in front of thousands instead of an empty dance floor and a desolate sticky bar. You suppose that in some ways he is, his eyes closed so tightly as his lips curl huskily around every lyric that it's like he's far far away from here, in his own dream world.

Yoongi is beautiful. You realise that much when you take in the strands of blue, effortlessly messy hair that cling to the perspiration shining around his temples, the warmth of the lights turning his plain white tee transparent enough to see how his shoulder blades tense and contract with every syllable that leaves his lips between heaving breaths. Your eyes trace the black leather jeans that hug his thighs just right and the veins that pop against the pale skin of his forearms as he grips the water bottle ever tighter. How his lashes flutter open and the dark eyes pooling with a fiery fervour you can't get enough of stare right into the lens of your camera just as you take a shot with a click.

Yoongi comes to a standstill when he sees you approaching cautiously, shaking the Polaroid back and forth before slipping it into your jacket pocket. For a second he's unreadable, eyes unblinking and expression shadowy, and you question whether he's vexed by your unannounced arrival, but then his eyes soften at the corners and his lips are pulling back into the gummy smile you adore and he's rushing across the stage to pull you into his arms with a low chuckle.

"Hey, you." His voice is like velvet, lips warm as they press a lingering kiss to the crown of your head, arms practically scooping you into his embrace. "I wasn't expecting you to drop by today?"

"Am I interrupting something?" Your arms curl around his neck and he lets out a sigh of relief, breathing in the smell of minty shampoo and dry cedar that is so inherently Yoongi it makes your heart do a somersault. "Just missed you, that's all."

"Happy to see you. Feel free to miss me more often, sweetheart." His hands slip beneath your jacket and trace over the skin that peeks out from beneath your top, smirking when you shiver. "Does Namjoon know you're here?"

"Of course not," you scoff, biting back a whimper when his teeth graze over your sensitive neck. "Told him I was going to get c-coffee."

"So why are you here?" He raises a brow but you can tell by the lust glazing over his eyes that he knows exactly the reason why you walked six blocks in the rain to see him on your break. Yoongi's breath is hot against your cheek and you see him adjust his pants, smiling knowingly when you realise he has the same thoughts running through his head. "Just because you missed me? Or because you missed something else?"

"Just wanted to take some pictures." You flutter your lashes innocently and he grabs your ass with an almost frustrated groan, like he can hardly handle the bratty act. "Can't a girl take pictures without getting interrupted around here?”

"You always did like taking pictures of me, huh?" His finger crooks under your chin to connect your lips in a heated clash of tongue and teeth that leaves you whining and breathless and tangling your fingers in his hair. He tastes of whisky and it's such a relief to feel his plump lips slotting languidly between your own that you can't help but whimper when he pulls back with a shit eating grin. "Nuh uh. Not until you tell me why you really came here, hm?"

"You. Want you."

The words come out breathless and it makes Yoongi smirk. His palm cups your jaw, eyes dragging down your body as he pulls your chest flush to his. "All you had to do was call and I would've come over right away."

"Pfft, and risk someone catching us together at Big Hit?" You scoff, flashing him an innocent smile as you press your hands against his firm chest and attack his already swollen lips again, pulling his bottom lip between your teeth. "Besides, I couldn't wait that long."

Yoongi lets out a loud groan and presses his crotch into yours, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and enjoying the string of whines that you let out into the crook of his neck when you feel the hardness in his pants you've been craving all day. "Let's go somewhere a little more private then, hm?"

"Why not right here?" You almost plead, and you see his adam's apple bob as he tries to retain his self control.

"You're so dirty, you know that?" He growls into your ear before he's hooking a hand beneath your ass and lifting you off the ground, legs curling around his waist as he stumbles over stage and roughly presses your back against a music amp, lips never leaving your collar bones. "So fucking dirty."

"F-fuck!" Your eyes roll back when he spreads your legs and slots his body between them, fingers already working on the button of your jeans eagerly. "You like it."

"Sure do." He says through gritted teeth as he drags the fabric down your legs and throws it over his shoulder. Yoongi's finger runs between your breasts over your shirt, past your belly button and over your panty clad core, amused when you let out a bashful whine at the light stimulation to your aching clit. He leans up to place a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth and you're sure there's a trace of a shy blush creeping across his nose, words leaving his lips next far more sincere than the way his hand works on your folds. "But I like you more."

Your heart flutters and you're sure you almost cum from the warmth blossoming in your chest. "Is the Gloss getting all soft on me, huh?"

Yoongi grabs your hand and places it palm down over his crotch where you can feel his growing arousal. “Rock hard, actually.” He growls, before his eye's flash with a lustful darkness and he's ripping your shirt over your head and unclipping your bra in one swift movement, leaving you naked except for the cotton panties sticking to your wet folds. He licks his lips before they're attaching to one of your impossibly hard nipples, his hand sliding your panties to the side to reveal your dripping center and plunging two fingers into your clenching hole without warning. "Still soft?"

"Shit Yoongi." Your toes curl when his thumb finds your clit and he crooks his hand to hit your sweet spot deliciously. You've been fucking each other for a couple months by now and he knows your body like the back of his hand, knows exactly how to make you come undone beneath him with a single touch. "G-gonna cum if you don't stop—"

"Look at you, all fucked out just from my fingers." Yoongi interrupts. "Soaking wet and moaning my name in the middle of the fucking club where anyone could see you. Want everyone to hear you cum, huh kitten?"

You nod unashamedly, grinding your hips against the heel of his hand, desperate to chase your high. His breath ghosts across your breasts as he sucks a dark purple mark into the flesh, though you're too fucked out to care about how hard it will be to hide it from everyone at Big Hit later on. "Too bad. You're mine and only I get to hear you. Clear?"

With that his fingers slip out of you momentarily as he leans over your body to grab a remote, pressing a few buttons that has a thumping beat permeating through the room, right from the amp beneath your ass that vibrates to life in time with the lyrics. Yoongi's lyrics.

His voice is all around you now, deep and husky as it blasts through the speakers that you can't help but grind down onto, flying forward to grip Yoongi's shoulder bruisingly at the new sensation against your already sensitive folds. Every pump of the base vibrates right through your clit and you're so lost to the feeling that you hardly notice Yoongi unbuckling his belt and taking his hard cock into his hand until he's pushing you back against the wall and lining up the blunt head with your clenching hole.

"F-fuck. So tight." His head falls into the crook of your neck as he pushes inside, the combination of his thick cock stretching you out just right and the amp vibrating against your folds enough to send you over the edge instantly with a cry of his name.

"Yoongi!" Your high is intense, washing over you in waves as you feel your pussy clench around Yoongi's length. For a second your vision goes completely black, Yoongi's soft chuckle against your ear the thing that brings you back down. You slap a hand over your mouth, face heating up when you realise how loud you were.

Shit. Is he mad? Did someone hear you?

"Cumming already baby? We've got a long way to go before I'm finished with you." He smirks as he pulls your hand away from your mouth. "Be a good girl and be as loud as you can for me. Wanna hear your pretty noises when you cum around my cock again, hm?"

[the polaroid pictures oc takes of Yoongi while he performs Love Theme.]

[datawyrms]

Ectoplasmic Bonds

Dannymay2020 Day 30: Family

“AHA! I have found you, ghost child. You are no match for my peerless intellect!”

This was weird. Not the ranting and dramatic posing in midair, that was just Technus being the weird little boaster he was. The fact he was boasting at a park with no gadgets in sight was the confusing bit. He’d expected the Box ghost or some random animal when his ghost sense rudely interrupted his Saturday, not the tech crazed monologuer. 

“I didn’t know we were playing hide and seek!” His hands glowed green, ready to blast the second his foe made a move. “I know a great place you can hide though!”

“Playing? No, we are not playing hide and seek!” the ghost crossed his arms, almost looking insulted. “We are playing BASIC HEALTH EDUCATION, for your feeble mind is clearly LACKING THIS DATA”

“Uh. What.” Danny blinked, eyebrow raising in bafflement. Blasting the ghost would probably be best, but he hadn’t even taken advantage of his blank stare.

Technus shook his head and tisked at him. “Your cousin let us know about your RECKLESS BEHAVIOUR, ghost child! It is a wonder that you haven’t collapsed!”

“My cou-Dani? Wait why would Dani be buddies with you?” the green glow snuffed out, brain struggling to figure out what was going on. Was it April first? Was this a really complicated distraction plot?

The green skinned ghost tisked again. “By being as reckless as you! Young and thinking you are invincible!”

Well that answered approximately nothing at all. Yet the ghost did seem to be serious, he was getting the distinct impression Technus was scolding him. For something. Maybe he was just having a weird dream. “I still have no idea what you’re babbling about.”

“Your education is LACKLUSTER, child! How can you not know you are starving yourself? You are more a ghost baby than a ghost child!”

“Well excuse me for not getting the ‘ghosts for dummies’ book!” he snapped back, wondering if he should go after the ghost for that baby comment.

“Ah, ah, I am not fighting a half starved toothpick! You put those fists down, child and listen to your elders!”

He was totally scolding him, what the heck. “Ghosts don’t eat, what are you even on about?”

Technus put his face in his hands. “The youth of today! So uneducated!” Yet when he looked back up he just seemed more determined. “Fear is all well and good child, but it is no replacement for ectoplasm! The state of your cousin was appalling!” He seemed to notice how Danny tensed at the mention of ‘cousin’ and continued. “She is FINE thanks to our cardboard enthusiast!”

“Well uh. Thanks for helping her out?”

“It was AVOIDABLE! If you were not so reckless in hanging around over here all the time! Do you WANT to start falling apart from lack of ectoplasm? It is distinctly UNGROOVY”

...Was he actually worried about the two half ghosts? Weird. “Errr no, I would not like to do that, thanks.” He had enough nightmares from just seeing it happen to the other clones.

“Then you must stop AVOIDING returning to the ghost zone! You have not come in over a month! Perhaps exhaustion is a thrill to you, but you take it to RIDICULOUS levels! The cousin was quite WORRIED for you, ghost child!”

Dani had managed to set Technus on him for...not going into the ghost zone. What. That was important? “I don’t think I have to-”

“YOU DO! Do you think ectoplasm will rain from the sky for you here? NUH UH. IT DOES NOT.” He seemed larger,  looming over the teenager as he pointed at him. “You might have a big battery but it will still RUN OUT. Then no more RECKLESS ghost child!”

Why did he feel so embarrassed? Why was he even letting Technus of all people chew him out? “Okay, okay! I get it!”

“GOOD. Puddles are very BORING nemeses!” He glared at the jumpsuited teenager for a moment longer before vanishing, apparently planning to keep his word on a lack of fighting.

He really, really hoped all this was just a very dumb dream. People had definitely seen the encounter, it was pretty hard to overlook two ghosts yelling in a park in the middle of the day. Mom would probably call it proof that all his fights were staged, or something fun like that. Not that the truth of ‘he came to yell at me because I’m bad at being a ghost’ was much better.

Mom’s pondering at the table in the evening shot any hope square in the chest. “I suppose they do look similar, colour scheme wise. I’m not sure it’s any proof of a familial relation though, there’s no real reason for such relationships”

Jack nodded, scratching at his jaw before adding his thoughts. “Maybe new ghosts cling to older ones at first before separating off to do their own thing? Phantom’s got some electricity powers, doesn’t he?”

“He does, they do share the tendency to never stop talking as well, come to think of it.”

It was very difficult to not respond to that remark. He was not the kind of scenery chewer Technus was! This was going to be a looooong night.

“It’s just strange. They’ve never shown to have a friendly relationship before now. If they wanted to take the town for themselves it’d make more sense to let Phantom stay ill.”

“Even ghosts want to protect the young of their species?” Jack frowned “I didn’t think the spook was actually a young spirit though.”

“True. Technus might only call him a child because of his appearance. Yet it did look like a parent scolding a child, didn’t he complain about the youth?”

“Well if we can nab one of em, we can see if they share or have similar ectoplasmic signatures! It could be an instinctive thing if they’re ‘related’ that way.”

Danny worked to suppress a groan, rubbing at his forehead. Great. Now they thought Technus was his ghost dad. All his dated references were going to be way worse now! He so wasn’t like him! The second his friends found out it was going to be their new favourite joke.

-

He never did manage to figure out how to track Dani down, instead getting surprised by her with a tackling hello.

“Does this count as a ghost attack?” he asked, smirking as the the ghost snickered at the question.

“I dono, does it? You aren’t fleeing in terror.”

“Maybe I’m just an out of towner that doesn’t believe in ghosts“

Dani shrugged before landing, taking a few glances around before shifting back to her human form. “Then I guess I’m a ghost that doesn’t believe in ghosts either.”

“New outfit?”

“Yup! And it’s all mine,” her grin was infectious as she grabbed the edge of the thick purple hoodie, fiddling with the dark lining that seemed to have a scattering of stars. “I don’t even feel cold in the zone with this on.”

“You know you don’t have to live in the ghost zone, right? Jazz can probably make up some forgotten branch of the family you’re from, or something.”

“What, and join you in tip toeing around ghost hunters that love and hate you at the same time? No way cuz. If I wanted that, I’d be with Vlad.” she paused with a frown. “Well okay, it was fake love but you get it.”

“Too well.” he shrugged, trying to ignore the rush of irritation from his parents being compared to that absolute fruit loop. “What did you drop by for then? Seeing as you sent Technus after me last time. Which I’m still mad about.”

“Oh you know, catch up with Val, enjoy some sunlight. Nothing big.” she rolled her eyes “I didn’t send him after you! I just mentioned to Boxy how you don’t go to the ghost zone much and I guess he spread it around?”

“Well thanks to that people think Technus is my dad!”

“What, he’s not?” she burst out laughing from the other half ghost’s full body shudder, ducking the half hearted snowball thrown her way.

“Oh you think it’s funny now, just wait until they start saying it about you too.”

“Nope, still funny! Besides, I already got a ghost dad.”

“You what.” he stared, but she didn’t seem to be kidding. 

“Well after the whole Boxy making sure I didn’t drop dead from lack of ectoplasm thing a lot of ghosts kinda felt bad for me?” the dismissive wave of her hand seemed a bit forced. “Way easier to deal with over there than with humans. They knew I didn’t really have a place that was mine so they let me stick around for awhile.”

“I guess that was nice of them. You sure it isn’t some trick?”

“You worry too much cuz. You really think I wouldn’t have been super suspicious at first? Already did that once!” her glare made him blush, rubbing the back of his neck. Stupid question, of course she’d be careful after Vlad. “Being a clone with no papers is way easier in the ghost zone, so spending most of my time there just makes sense.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” He couldn’t imagine wanting to live in that green chaotic world, but he actually had a decent amount going for him on this side. Dani...didn’t.

“So yeah, basically got adopted by Nocturn. He helped me figure out the design, it’s reversible.”

“Wait wait NOCTURN? The guy who tried to put everyone to sleep to take over the world? That one?!” he sputtered, only causing his clone to laugh again.

“Yeah? Everyone likes to try and see how powerful they can be sometimes, did you take it personally?”

“Yeah a little! People could have been hurt! And he dumped me on a random rock in the ghost zone! Then tried to kill me!”

“Everyone tries to kill you.”

“Like that makes it better?! He’s a nutcase!”

“Or maybe you’ve only actually met him once? Everyone wants to try messing with Amity Park at one point. It’s just a thing to try, since you never really seriously hurt anyone.”

“Now you make it sound like the ghost attacks are my fault.” he muttered, quickly realizing Dani didn’t care if he wasn’t exactly a fan of the dream ghost.

“Well they’d come anyway because the human world is cool. Some of them are totally only coming to try stealing the town from you though, sorry cuz.” she shrugged again “Oh! Noc’s pretty impressed by your ice attacks by the way, but he’s still pretty sure Frostbite could help with a few things.”

She nicknamed him! “Noted. Uh. Maybe tell him not to do the whole take over the world and kill me thing again?”

“He won’t. One, I consider you family. Two, watching and learning from dreams is more his thing. The take over the world bit was more of a ‘sure why not give it a go’.”

She seemed so relaxed, even while his mind was yelling that she couldn’t be safe around a ghost like that. Yet she was the one who mostly lived in the ghost zone. She probably would know a lot of his foes better than he actually did...though it still rankled. “Well I’m glad you found more family over there. But I’m not inviting him for lunches.”

“You’ll have to be the one to come visit sometime! You have no idea how scared some ghosts are of you, it’s hilarious. They don’t know you’re a total dork.” She perked up when he stopped crossing his arms.

“Hey, that just makes you dork squared ya know.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Sure it does. Or not. I’d have to ask Tuck.” he managed to keep smiling, trying not to think too hard about why he’d be considered terrifying to ghosts.

“Or you could ask your daddy” her smirk was vicious as he let out an offended squawk, flinging another snowball after her.

“Don’t even joke about that!”

“Tooooo late! Bye cuz!” her laugh was warm and carefree as she fled from her flustered cousin, vanishing as she darted behind a large bush.

Probably off to go find Valerie now then before headed back home. Still, it was good to know she had a home to go to now. Even if it was with some ghosts he usually had to beat up. Family reunions would be a whole lot messier if she kept that up. Though really, she deserved any kindness she got.

He still wasn’t going to forgive her for the Technus thing though. He was going to need to brush up on dream and sleep puns for proper retaliation. 

[kirishwima]

Hello hello! I love your headcanons! Can I request the RFA+V(and Vanderwood?) with an MC who is the one to make the first move to give the first kiss? I need more proactive MCs ready to go for it. (I think with Saeran we already do...?)

oh i like this headcanon hehe~ and yeah, i think we pretty much do see MC making the first move with Saeran-although I do think he’d get just as flustered any time MC gets affectionate with him lol

YOOSUNG:

* Honestly...after that kiss at the party, which he was only able to initiate because of adrenaline and excitement, he’d be a flustered m e s s anytime MC would be affectionate with him-even a mere hug would be enough to give this boy a nosebleed lol

* For the sake of this headcanon though, let’s pretend he didn’t smooch his MC at the party-so instead, whilst they officially start dating, they haven’t kissed yet; just holding hands is a huge feat for Yoosung, his poor heart needs time to adjust at the thought of having a boyfriend/girlfriend/SO to hold hands with!!

* Honestly, Zen would nag at him about it constantly. “What do you mean you’ve been dating MC for a month and you haven’t even kissed them yet?!” he’d ask, incredulous. “Just go for it!”

* Well, for Yoosung, it’s not that simple. Does he...want to kiss MC?  Absoloutely all the time always yes. Is he...brave enough to just ask them for it? Nope. Nuh uh. Nein.

* So it’s up to the hero MC to save the day, and steal Yoosung’s first kiss! 

* Honestly, a sneak attack would be the best-he’d be talking about one thing or another with MC, his face bright and beautiful as he spoke, and MC would absentmindedly bring a hand to cusp his jaw, their fingertips tracing his skin as they ask a soft “Can I kiss you?”

* Yoosung gulps, his eyes wide, but nods, and that’s all the invitation MC needs-they lean close and kiss him, takin in his shuddering breath and how he’s awkwardly trying to follow MC’s lead-and failing.

* They lean back and look at his flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes; and when Yoosung looks to them with puppy-dog eyes and asks ‘can we do that again?’ well, who’s MC to say no?

ZEN:

* You’d think he’d be bold and be the one to kiss MC first-but same as Yoosung, his first kiss with MC was adrenaline-ridden and chaste.

* Zen’s a gentleman-he’d never want to push his beloved MC out of their comfort zone, nor would he want his ‘beast side’ to get the better of him before MC’s ready to greet that side, if ever.

* So he waits...and waits....and waits. MC has been trying to get him to make the first move but he’s a stoic rock, chanting prayers each time he looks at MC’s lips to keep his sanity lol.

* After a succesful opening night for his latest play, he comes to greet MC backstage at his dressing room; he politely ignored his co-worker’s greetings in favor of rushing to his dressing room where he knew MC would be waiting, and there they were-a bouquet of roses in their hands, yet a barely-hidden pout on their lips.

* “My love?” Zen asked, coming to stand across MC, cusping their cheeks in his hands. “What’s with that frown? Is something wrong?”

* MC’s pout intensified, their lips pursed. “In the play-you had a kiss scene.” Zen nodded, brows furrowed. He’d told MC about that scene from when he first read the play, and they were fine with it-did something change?

* MC leaned up to him, bridging the distance as they kissed Zen-something chaste and innocent, but lingering long enough for him to know the implications behind it.

* They licked at their lips as they looked back to Zen with a small victorious smirk. “I don’t like someone else kissing you before I did. I hat to purify what’s mine” they added with a shrug and-oh no MC what have you DONE.

* The BEAST(TM) has been unleashed. Good luck, MC.

JAHEE:

* She’s bold and brave, yes, but when it comes to affection Bahee’s a Hot Mess. She hasn’t even had her first kiss yet...and she loves MC but doesn’t have the slightest clue of how to initiate any contact between them.

* So it’s up to MC to slowly build up Jaehee’s confidence so that she’ll be okay with a kiss-from holding her hand when walking down the street, hugging her close and leaning their head into the crook of Jahee’s neck, little affectionate gestures that have Jaehee melting into the touch yet also clearly show MC’s intentions; that they were never at the level of simple friendship.

* When one night MC leans close to Jaehee as they sit on the couch watching some silly movie; when they trace Jaehee’s cheek with their fingertips, curling their fingers through her hair as they whisper ‘Can I kiss you?’ into her ear;it’s not a surprise. Jaehee’s come to expect this.

* Yet expecting it and actually preparing for it are two entirely different things-while she nods yes to MC, she shuts her eyes tight as she can, her lips slack and her hands trembling as they come to wrap around MC’s back.

* MC stifles a laugh at Jaehee’s tomato-red face, and says they don’t have to kiss if Jaehee doesn’t want to-while yeah, MC would love nothing more than to kiss the heck out of this woman, they’d never want to force her into anything.

* But Jaehee shakes her head furiously, her grip on MC tightening. “I want this!” she insists, her eyes clear, “I want this.” she repeats.

* So MC smiles and kisses her, slow and gentle, letting Jaehee set the pace.

* Slowly, Jaehee would learn to open up more, and would even be the one to initiate physical affection-but that’d take much, much longer lol.

JUMIN:

* Honestly...this thing he has with MC is his first relationship, and he doesn’t know what boundaries should be set-so he lets MC pick the pace their relationship should develop with. If they’re ready to kiss him, then so is he.

* And boy, MC does want to kiss him. They absoloutely do.

* Not even a day into their new and fragile relationship, they catch Jumin being the cutest he can be-he’s sitting on the couch, Elizabeth the 3d in his lap, and he’s cooing at her, talking in that high-pitched silly voice we all use when there’s a cute kitten or puppy in front of us, and Elizabeth seems to love it, turning her head this way and that whenever Jumin speaks.

* “Who’s my princess?” Jumin coos, scratching Elizabeth’s chin gently, “Are you my princess? Yes you are!”

* ((Yes he absoloutely talks this way with Elly when he’s alone, no you can’t change my mind))

* This cutesy behavior sends MC over the edge. They stand there, eyes trained on Jumin as they ask “Can I kiss you like, right the heck now?”

* Jumin blinks owlishly at them before smiling. “You never have to ask my permission for that-never.”

* So they don’t. Instead they replace Elizabeth on the couch, who’s now left the silly couple to their own devices to go stroll around the penthouse, and so MC leans close to Jumin, their lips inches away from him...and they kiss him.

* He’s soft and pliant, letting MC set the pace yet following suit, matching each of MC’s movements like he’d been thinking the same thing. When MC’s hands run through his hair he hums into the kiss, his fingers tightening on their waist. 

* Now that MC has given this man permission to do something like this...hoo boy you can bet he’ll never take his hands off of MC ever again, ever.

SEVEN/LUCIEL/SAEYOUNG:

* Like most of the RFA, he too has never had a relationship-sure, he’s kissed people, sure he’s had sex, but he’s never actually held hands with someone nor had someone he loves to cuddle with. So everything that happens with MC, every little thing’s a first for him.

* Even kissing feels sacrilegous, the mere thought of someone like him laying his hands on someone as bright and pure as MC making him feel the need to go to church and drown himself in holy water-he knows how much MC would tease him for the thoughts he has, but he can’t help it. 

* He’s a flustered mess at the littlest of things-MC merely leaning their head on his shoulder is enough to turn his cheeks redder than his hair, and MC wants to do so much more than that, wants to take this ridiculous man’s ridiculou’s face and smooch his lips until they’re puffier than a jellyfish, yet they fear what that might do to Seven-what if he short-circuits and his brain fries from the affection?!

* Well, all these worries are put to rest one night when MC fell asleep on the couch-they’d been waiting up for Seven to finish with his work so they’d go to sleep together, but ended up falling asleep as he worked.

* Seven kneeled besides MC, bold now that he’s the only one aware of his actions-he trailed his fingers through MC’s hair, to their temples, down the slope of their nose, his fingertips dancing on the corner of MC’s lips. He sighed, ready to pull his hand away when MC shifted and gripped his hand by the wrist.

* They sat up, ignoring the flusterdness visible on Seven’s face-there, in the dark room only illuminated by Seven’s laptop screens, his pupils blown and lips slack-he’s never looked more kissable.

* “I’m going to kiss you now” they said, and that was all the time Seven had to prepare; they leaned in and kissed him, trapping his lips as his surprised gasp was muffled into the kiss. 

* He didn’t take long before his hands were finding their way around MC’s waist, pulling them off the couch and onto his lap as he sat back on the floor, leaning up to angle the kiss better; even if it wasn’t his first kiss, everything felt new, every touch left a spark of electricity, a tingling in his skin he wasn’t aware he was cabaple of feeling.

* Now that this Pandora’s box had been opened, there was no closing it-if he could, Seven would never stop kissing MC.

* And well, MC didn’t mind that one bit.

Mood MC, mood

it’s like 5am and i didnt proof read this woop hope it’s okay!!!!

-send me mysme headcanons for character reactions-

[deansotherotherblog]

"I have waited so long for this moment."

"Dean, no, do not screw it up--"

"Relax, Sammy. When have I ever let you leave the house looking bad?"

"Um, specifically? The Nair incident?"

Dean smiled and hummed a little laugh. "Ah. Yeah. Good times, huh, baldy?" Sam's wrist was sprained, again, and his shoulder was still swollen after Dean had to pop it back into its socket. Well past his shoulders, Sam's hair had began reaching closer to his collar bone than it ever had before. The boys started staking out a rural town for a string of killings, probably vampires, but finding the nest was particularly hard this time around. It had been three weeks since they arrived, and Sam's ends had been getting scraggly a couple of weeks before that, even with vigorous use of the good conditioner.

"You know what, never mind, I'll just leave it until we can get into a city."

"Sammy, Sammy-" Dean pulled on his brother's hair as Sam tried to escape. Sam's muscle memory made his bottom clench in response. He suppressed the memories of Dean tugging his long locks, rocking under his body.

Dean urged, "I won't screw it up. But don't you think that maybe-"

"No."

"Just the sides?"

"No."

"Ugh, fine, fine. Sit still. It's driving me nuts and I know it's driving you nuts and if you walk into that geezer's barber shop in town, you're gonna come out looking like Barney Fife."

Sam sighed. He ran his good hand through the front portion of his hair. God, he was gonna miss it if- probably when- Dean ruined it.

"Fine. Just..." Sam gave Dean a threatening look in the reflection of the motel mirror.

"Yes, yes, just make sure you'd still fit in at Woodstock."

Dean used his own comb for a long time to understand how his brother liked his layers. He'd only ever cut his own hair before, except when Sam was so young that he didn't have a reason not to trust Dean. He also didn't really care much what his hair looked like back then. Now, Dean knew The Hair was Sam's thing. Dean was the hot brother with the good car, obviously, and Sam was the tall one with The Hair.

Dean combed from front to back, from the underside of the bottom up, and from the hairline pulling up to the ceiling. He stood up straight, squatted below Sam's shoulders, and once even came inches from Sam's nose to examine. Sam opened his mouth with a slow intake of breath, either to whine or scold, when Dean cut him off with two grunts that signified "nuh-uh".

Dean could build things. He could repair things. Certainly, he could do this with as much precision. Right? Right. Yes. Absolutely. He didn't let Sam see him take a deep breath for strength as he finally grabbed the scissors.

Sam closed his eyes. He squinted so hard at first that he saw little squiggles inside his eyelids. Dean was always getting on him about having long hair. It was so long now, and it was so hot, that Sam would rather just let Dean have his way instead of dealing with it any more. Sam tried not to think about how Dean was biting his bottom lip while scheming his brother's new look.

Sam felt Dean pull away small sections of his hair with the comb, then felt the tension of the pull be snipped away with Chuck knows how much hair. Maybe the lady at the post office in Lebanon would think he was a bit more respectable after this.

Dean's fingers raked across Sam’s scalp as he took more tiny sections. He's really milking this, Sam thought miserably. Dean's fingernails took tiny passes all along his brother's head, mapping the area and marking it as his own. Minuscule piece by piece, Sam felt the tension of Dean's comb fall with the pinnacle of his physical being onto the cheap tile. He almost reveled in the feeling of letting go under Dean's control, but that was never how it was before. It was too foreign to relax into. Sam was used to having the upper hand, to being the collected puppeteer who watched Dean dance on his strings until he all but collapsed. Sam would be the one to instruct Dean to be quiet, be fast, and finally finish. 

But that was too long ago to think of now. Dean had fallen in love with and left Lisa, then Sam hit that dog and had his whole thing, but they never really talked about what they would do since they're both topside.

Sam squinted his eyes once more, then smoothed them as he tried to zone out and go over all the tidbits of information they'd gathered on the case. He tried to find patterns by taking a mental inventory of all the evidence they'd examined. He took his time mulling over victims' names, ages, wounds, locations, then dates of death.

Ok, the first victim was found on the third-

snip, snip

-and the second victim on the fourth-

snip, snip

-and the third, fourth, and fifth on the sixth-

snip

-seventh?

snip

-sixth? I don't know--how do I have any hair left for him to cut after all this time? "Dean?"

"Almost, almost!" He sounded absolutely giddy. Great, Sam probably had a mohawk or something close. Sam started to open his eyes. "Nope nope, not yet, just...hang on."

Sam let out a small "oof" as Dean's weight plopped on his lap. Dean realized in a moment that he hadn’t straddled his brother in ages, but decided not to say anything. Too weird. Sam's eyes snapped open from instinct, but the mirror was blocked from his vision. Dean didn't have the comb or the scissors anymore. His tongue stuck out between his teeth in concentration, two small lines just forming between his brows. His fingers ran along the sides of Sam's head and he pushed a lock of hair in front of Sam's vision.

Hair? Sam went cross-eyed staring at it in disbelief. The lock fell just to the end of his nose.

Dean giggled at his brother's expression. A light danced in his eyes as he smoothed the strands into a perfect wave across Sam's forehead.

"Ok, Sammy, before you freak out... I really did my best here, ok? And, for the record, I think it turned out alright." He stood up.

Sam jumped from the chair and leaned toward the mirror. He put his hand on the same piece of hair to which he bade a silent goodbye earlier to see it was only about three inches shorter. He ran his fingers through the entirety, looking for a bald spot or whatever made Dean's face look so happy with his work.

"Well?" Dean asked. Sam just opened his mouth as he continued running his fingers through his hair. "I know it's probably shorter than what you wanted, but I remember it was like this when you left college to come hunt with me again."

The bottom of his hair just reached to his neck, but stopped well before his shoulders. The layers were a little longer in places, but looked carefully constructed.

That's what took so long, Sam realized. Dean actually did do his best. He kept one hand on the back of his head, fingers lacing through the familiar texture, and slowly turned to his brother.

"I... I thought you were gonna screw me over."

"Nah, good-lookin' kid like you? Couldn't if I wanted to."

"Kid?"

"Well... that's how I still see you sometimes. Like when your hair was like this." Dean looked down. He didn't intend to get so nostalgic.

Sam chuckled, still unable to find words.

Dean looked up again. He reached out and touched where the ends of Sam's hair met his neck. "And it's hot so I thought you'd want it off your neck, you know?"

"Yeah... Thanks," he replied, breathlessly. Sam hated how his cheeks burned. Dean was just touching his head for the better part of an hour, but something about him doing it while they were facing each other felt...closer.

Dean's fingers lingered on the fresh, healthy strands. He twisted a few between his thumb and first two fingers, remembering how he used to cling to them for dear life under Sam's passion. He withheld a hum of contentment that bubbled in his chest. It had been so long since Sam looked like this, since he finally came back to Dean. They had been through so much in the years that passed, but regardless of the few differences in Sam's skin, Dean saw that same kid he picked up from Stanford.

Dean knew he held his hand there too long. When he tried to pull it back, Sam leaned forward as to not break their contact. It had been a long, complicated time since they looked at each other the way they were now.

Dean's mouth was slightly open, wanting to ask, "is this happening?" Sam's jaw was set and his eyes showed absolution as he took another step forward, placing his good hand on Dean's hip. Using just the tips of his fingers, he firmly pulled Dean's pelvis toward his own. In the same slow motion, he tilted his head down to catch Dean's lips against his. Dean eagerly reciprocated, allowing his hum to rumble through his body, vibrating from his chest into Sam's muscular torso. Sam's hand gripped Dean's side, bunching his shirt and sending electric waves up his skin.

Dean's other hand flew to the side of Sam's face. His fingertips traced a stubbly and strong jaw and Dean slightly rose off his heels, pushing deeper into the kiss. His fingers slid up the back of Sam's head, threading through his own best art piece ever. Once his fingers were entirely immersed, Dean tugged just enough to make a small sound come from Sam's throat.

"So..." Dean started quietly, catching his breath, "You like the haircut, I take it?"

[slutforgoodliterature]

Charles x Reader- Game On

Request: ‘Hi! Love your smut fic “thanking him”, can you do another kinky smut fic with Charles Xavier please if you have time? 😌’

Warnings: smut (obvs), senses manipulation, kinky telekinesis use 

Summary: You’re sick of Charles working late, so you make a bet in order to get him to bed. Little do you know, he’s got a trick (or a couple) up his sleeve...

Trust me, this gif will make a whole lotta sense in a little bit...

Charles was sitting at his desk, pouring over paperwork as he had been for hours. Not to get you wrong, you admired his work ethic, admired it even. 

Sometimes you were able to tempt him away with dinner and the promise of something else to eat later on if he was good...

But when he was like this, so completely absorbed and drowning in files, nothing got in between him and that godforsaken desk. 

Actually, scratch that. You had a theory. And you really, really wanted to test it.

“Babe, are you sure I can’t get you anything?” You asked for the fifth time. “Water, tea, a massage? You hearing this?! I’m even willing to give you a massage.” You goaded him; anything to get off his ass and away from that desk.

 You could see the lines in his forehead carving deeper, his shoulders squared with tension and his hand cramping from all the writing. Even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself, he was working himself way too hard. 

“You go on ahead, sweetheart, I’ll be finished here in a bit.” He barely even looked up from his work, which only added to your frustration. 

“Nope, not without you. You’re done for the night.” You were sick of him pushing himself too far, sick of going to bed alone and sick of him crawling next to you in the early hours of the morning, apologising profusely but never actually following through. 

“Y/N, I’m almost done, I promise, I just-”

“Nuh-uh. I’ve heard it all before.” You crossed your arms over your chest, accidentally pushing your cleavage above the neckline of your v-neck. This time, when he looked at you, his eyes lingered. 

“Sweetheart, you distracting me is only going to keep me here longer.” He muttered, but he didn’t sound very sorry. 

“Oh, really?” You drawled and stalked over to his desk. Let’s see how much paperwork he can do if you’re sitting on it.

You planted yourself directly on the file he was working on, and he had to yank his pen back to avoid you sitting on it. 

“Y/N...” he cautioned, but his gruff tone only made your lips twitch and your stomach flip. Nonchalantly, you placed your legs on either side of his chair, leaning back onto your hands and staring down at him through your lashes. 

“Professor...” you mocked back, to which he cleared his throat and came to rest his hands on your thighs, dangerously close to the edge of your gym shorts. 

“As much as I am enjoying this little... display,” he motioned to your spread legs in front of him, “I really need to finish this work.” 

“See, you say that,” you teased, inching your legs out further, drawing his eyes directly where you wanted them, “but I don’t know if you really mean it.” 

“Neither do I,” he sighed under his breath before silently chastising himself, “No, no, I’m serious. There are pressing matters that-” 

“Let’s make a bet.” You cut him off, and immediately his interest was peaked.

“A bet, you say?” He replied slyly, his hands tracing higher, toying with the edge of your shorts. 

“Mm, a bet.” You repeated, smirking at him. “I know you’re a sucker for a good competition.” 

“And I know you’re a sucker, period.” He quipped back, drawing a laugh out of you both. 

“Maybe we could include that in the stakes...” you suggested, and you could see the moment all thoughts of paperwork left his eyes and they focused solely on you. His hands tightened on your thighs and your breath hitched. 

“What sort of bet are we talking about, love?” His thumbs began rubbing circles into your flesh, making you shiver. But you didn’t come here to get bent over his desk, as good as that sounded.

No, you came to make him forget all about work, and everything else. 

And you knew just how to do it.

You planted a foot in the centre of his chest and pushed his chair backwards, catching him off guard and giving you just enough room to drop to your knees in front of him 

“Well, you certainly have a disposition for dramatics.” He chuckled low and throaty, but it cut off with a growl when your hands began snaking up his legs.

“Here’s the deal, Professor,” you began as you grabbed his semi-hard through his pants and watched his eyelids flutter, “I’m gonna make you cum in five minutes. If I do, and I will,” you promised with a wink, “you get out of this chair and get your ass into bed with me.” 

“If, and in no offence to your skills, you don’t win?” He questioned as he ran a hand under your jaw and tipped your head to look him in his cerulean eyes. 

“You get to stay here, and work for as long as you want,” you admitted, but your sly grin told him that wasn’t all, “but I’m thinking that you’re gonna want to follow me to bed anyway.” 

“Interesting,” he nodded, tracing your jaw with soft fingers before gripping it tightly, making you gasp at the sudden pressure, “but I’ll do you one better: if I can make you cum first, which I will,” he echoed your cocky statement, “you do what I want. For a whole day. And I will go to bed with you now.” He added at your raised eyebrows. 

“And if you don’t?” You were impatient to hear the answer. 

“If you win, and I.. let’s say, loose my cool...first,” He grinned impishly, “then I’ll do whatever you want on a day of your choosing.” You weighed the implications of this, and once you decided the risk was worth the reward you nodded. 

“Deal.” His eyes flashed at your response and his fingers inched towards your throat, stroking it softly.

Your stomach flooded with warmth which climbed up your chest, leaving behind a ruddy blush that he noticed immediately and grinned triumphantly.

“Just how are you planning on getting me off when I’m all the way down here? No offence to your skills, of course.” You challenged haughtily. 

“That’s for me to know and you to find out love.” He sent you a devilish smirk before releasing your neck and leaning comfortably back into his chair, his eyes flashing at you, full of challenge. 

You scoffed, thinking this to be an easy win.

You should have known that with Charles, it’s never an easy win.

Making quick work of his slacks, you pulled both his pants and boxers off and discarded the troublesome clothes behind you. 

“Someone’s a bit eager.” He crooned but let out a hiss as you wrapped your hand around his member, feeling it stiffen under your grip. 

“Charles, I love you, but sometimes I really want to put a gag in you.” You threatened and he chuckled in response.

“Sweetheart, if you win, you can do whatever you want with me.” Motivated by his promise, you licked a stripe from base to tip, watching as he shuddered and gripped the arms of his chair.

“Game on, Professor.” You smirked before engulfing him with your hot, wet mouth. He swore and gripped your hair unforgivingly, his head falling against the back of his chair. 

Going to town, you worked a merciless pace, using one hand to massage his balls in just the way you knew he loved, and the other to stroke his thigh. 

“God, Y/N, feels so good.” His breath was coming out in short, hard bursts as you kept your unrelenting speed, determined to win this game. 

That’s when you felt it. 

You didn’t even realise how wet you were until you felt a single finger stroking your most sensitive parts. You moaned and buckled, yanking your head up and glaring at Charles, who smiled innocently at you.

Well, as innocent as anyone could look with their rock hard cock in someone’s mouth.

“Something up, sweetheart?” He questioned, cocking his head, and the phantom finger pushed inside you, torturously slow.

“You telepathic mother fucker.” You swore. You should’ve expected this.

Charles just raised the stakes. 

“All’s fair in love and war.” He said unapologetically, sending you a devious smirk before touching fingers to his temple and increasing the pace of the digit inside you, and adding another.  

Biting back groans, you gripped his member hard and brought it back to your mouth, letting yourself moan around it and send shivers up his spine. He pulled your hair tighter and let out a litany of curses. 

It gave you great pleasure to see what you could reduce the great Charles Xavier to: a writhing mess. He watched you from under half-shut lids, his head tipped back in sheer ecstasy and soft grunts escaping his pink lips, which were open just enough to let puffs of air through them. 

But he was giving as good as he was getting.

With each bob of your head, his phantom fingers continued at the same pace. If you speed up, so did he. If you tortured him slowly, his fingers mimicked. It was like you couldn’t get him to the edge without dragging yourself along with him. 

He added a third and revelled in the way your eyes rolled back and your movements stopped temporarily. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, give in to me.” He rasped, keeping his eyes trained on you and his hand in your hair. His other hand moved to caress your cheeks, which were hollowed against his cock. 

You refused to give up, and instead steeled yourself and pushed the waves of pleasure he was creating to the back of your mind, focusing solely on the task ahead:

giving him the best blowjob of his goddamn life. 

With renewed vigour, you took him to the hilt with no warning, relaxing your throat and allowing him to deep throat you. His hips bucked, sending him further down your throat as he cursed loudly.

“Fuck, Y/N!” He drew in deep, ragged breaths. You continued to swallow around him, keeping him in your mouth for as long as possible before drawing up for breath, only to take him in once again. 

He sped up his phantom fingers, curling them inside you and eliciting a pornographic moan in response. 

“If I’m going down,” he grunted, holding your head down until tears sprang at your eyes, “you’re going down with me.” 

With that, he placed a fourth finger on your bundle of nerves, circling it with a pressure so good it almost hurt. 

You became a moaning mess around his cock but managed to keep at it, taking him deeper every time, your own pleasure distracting you from whatever gag reflex you had left. 

His hips bucked even harder, his abs tensing and his eyes fought to stay open as you knew he loved seeing you fall apart. 

Your legs began to shake and you weren’t sure how much longer to could stave off your impending orgasm. 

But it didn’t matter, as long as he finished first. 

“My god, sweetheart.” He gritted his teeth and stroked your stretched out lips with his thumb, “You look so fucked out right now.” 

You moaned in response as his phantom fingers continued to work you into a moaning, shaking mess.

“Did I make you like this? Huh? Who did this to you?” The closer he got, the more verbal he became, and the more crass. 

He yanked your head off his cock with the hand in your hair and you panted, struggling to catch your breath.

“I wanna hear you say it, Y/N, who did this to you?” He picked up the pace of the fingers inside you when you didn’t respond. 

“You! You did, Charles.” You cried out, your body beginning to convulse, your brain screaming at you to just let go. 

He grinned in triumph and guided your head back down to his pulsing member, which you eagerly swallowed down. 

There was no stopping it now, the pleasure became too much for you and you screamed around his cock as the tsunami of an orgasm hit you. 

Your moans reverberated up his cock,  and he let out an animalistic growl as your pleasure crashed into him in waves through the telepathic channel he was always logged onto around you. His back arched and his hips stuttered as he spilt down your throat, before pulling your head up and finishing on your face.  

Still twitching from your high, you leant your head against his thigh, struggling to catch your breath. You were glad to see he was just as affected, his hand stroking your hair absentmindedly whilst he shuddered through the lingering throes of a mind-blowing orgasm. 

You lifted your head to look up at him, and he shuddered again at the sight of you wearing his seed around your lips. He used his thumb to guide it back into your mouth, which you cleaned off happily.

“Careful love,” he rasped as you bit gently on his thumb, “if I wasn’t so spent right now, you’d be in all sorts of trouble.” 

You were too tired to reply so you just rolled your eyes before trying to stand up, which worked about as well as having spaghetti for legs, resulting in you collapsing onto his lap where he cradled you close to his rapidly beating heart.

“You’re one of a kind, you know.” He whispered lovingly into your ear.

“Love you, too.” You sighed, nuzzling deeper into his neck.

“If I remember correctly,” he began in a sly tone, “I won.” You groaned in the realisation that yes, he did. “But for now, let’s go to bed.”

You revelled in your temporary victory because you knew it wouldn’t last long.

But as much as you were nervous, you couldn’t wait for him to collect his debt. 

[whump-tr0pes]

Honor bound - 47

Honor bound - 47 (tortured for information) - @badthingshappenbingo​​ (requested by @worm-html, anon)

This is a series. Start here. Continued from here. 

Red X is for posted, white X is for requested.

AO3

Cw: torture, blood, death mention

Isaac was busy cutting vegetables for dinner. He had his right hand, still bound in a brace, on top of the cutting board holding the vegetables in place. He handled the knife carefully in his left. Gray had offered to do it. “The last thing you need now is to cut a finger off.” Gray had said it with a laugh. Isaac had insisted. “I want to help. You don’t need to keep me away from the pointy objects.” He’d been smiling, too.

Tori peeked past his shoulder. He moved back to show her his work. “Is this the right size?”

She smiled and nodded. “Perfect. Thank you.”

Sam came into the kitchen, hobbling skillfully on their crutches. It was almost time to get the brace of their leg. Almost. “Can I help?”

Tori moved to shoo them out of the kitchen. “Nope. Thank you, though.” She was smiling gently.

Isaac turned, knife still in hand, a smile on his face too. “Come on, Sam. Be honest. You’re here because you want a sample.”

Sam froze, eyes on the knife.

They’d been around knives in the kitchen before. They’d helped Tori peel potatoes for shepherd’s pie not even a week ago. But something was different this time. Something was wrong.

“If you think this hurts you’re essentially fucked, Sam.”

They stumbled back, losing their grip on the crutch as a hand went up in front of them. Pain lanced through their bad leg. They swallowed. It’s ok it’s ok this is stupid it’s just Isaac it’s just a knife it’s fine it’s ok he’s not here it’s over this is stupid stupid stupid stupid.

“Let me put it to you this way. I’m not going to stop unless you tell me the address of your home base. It’s entirely up to you how long this goes on.”

They started to fall backwards as they lost their balance. Why why why no this is wrong why no this shouldn’t happen I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine.

Gavin yanked Sam’s head back, baring their throat as they sobbed. They pulled desperately at the rope binding their wrists behind them in the chair. He waved the knife in front of their face.

“You sure you have nothing to say? Not a single clue about the address of your home base?”

Hot tears poured down Sam’s face as they tried to turn their head against Gavin’s grip on their hair. “N-no…no…please…”

Gavin sighed. “You’d think by this point you’d have figured out that I’m not fucking around, Sam.” He brought the knife to their left arm, just below the shoulder. Sam flinched away from the feel of the cold metal on their skin, their whimpers turning to screams as Gavin drew the blade across their arm, leaving a line of blood as it went. They writhed away from the pain but Gavin held them steady with an iron grip on their hair.

“No! Please!” they screamed. “No no no…” The knife left their skin and they slumped in the chair, sweating and shaking with relief. They swallowed hard against the tearing feeling in their throat. It’s only been a few hours…not even a day… They cried harder as they wondered how long they would survive. It has to get worse. He’s not going to stop.

“Anything coming to mind now?” Sam gritted their teeth as tears streamed down their cheeks. “Whatever.” He brought the knife to their arm again and drew another line of blood.

Sam twisted as they cried out, biting down hard on their lip. I can’t tell him. He’ll kill them. He’ll hunt them down and kill them. Their mouth opened wide in a scream of agony.

Gavin finished with the cut. Sam moaned, gasping for breath. “Isaac will find me,” they sobbed.

Gavin rolled his eyes. “That’s the second time you’ve brought him up. Who the fuck is Isaac? Brother? Boyfriend? What?”

“He’s my friend,” they shrieked, blood rolling down their arm in a hot line. “He’ll find me, he’ll…he’ll come, he won’t let you do this…”

Gavin snorted. “Um…newsflash, buddy, but…” He waved his hand around the room in a lazy circle, knife still held tight. “…I’m kinda already doing it. How exactly do you imagine he’s going to find you? If he’s even looking. It was embarrassingly easy to take you, Sam. Are you sure this wasn’t an accident? How do you know he wasn’t ready to just shed some dead weight?”

Sam shuddered at Gavin’s words. “No…he would never…he…he’ll come for me, he will…”

“Don’t you think he would’ve been here by now if he was coming for you? I’ve given him plenty of time. Plenty of hints, too. And he just…” Gavin made an utterly perplexed face. “…hasn’t shown up. Weird.”

Sam tried to deny it, tried to say it was all a lie and Isaac was coming for them. The words caught in their throat. What if he’s telling the truth? They shoved the thought away. Isaac will save me, Isaac is coming.

“Welp, in the meantime you’re stuck with me. And I’m curious. If your team is the group that’s been hitting my satellite operations I’d love the opportunity to return the favor. So. Your home base. Tell me or the next one is deeper.”

“No! I can’t, I can’t I can’t I can’t no no no…”

“Ok, hard way it is.” The knife cut into Sam’s arm. Blood flowed immediately from the wound.

“NO! Please, no…please…it’s 37 Rockrest Drive…in…in Teston…please…”

Gavin laughed. “There, was that so hard? Now I know the first place to go once I’m done with you. Honestly not sure how long that’s gonna take, but…” He turned Sam’s head, inspecting their face as they cried. “I’m not in any hurry.”

Sam wailed in despair. He’s going to find them, he’s going to kill me and then go after them… “No…” they whimpered. “No…no, please…don’t…”

Gavin tapped the blade against Sam’s face. They flinched away, crying out weakly in terror. “Thanks so much for that. I’ll be sure to tell them who told me.”

Isaac was frozen for a split second. Then his stomach dropped as he realized what he’d done. He’d had a knife in his hand. Taken a step towards Sam. Maybe that was enough. Nobody else was able to predict their bad days, either. This day was different. This time, for Sam, something was wrong.

He saw Sam take a fumbling step back on their bad leg, knee buckling at the pain it must have caused. Then another step. Sam was going to fall. The knife fell from his hand and he was across the room in milliseconds. His good hand got a grip on Sam’s shirt as his healing one scrabbled against their arm. He didn’t feel the pain as the fingers tried to close.

They collapsed to the ground together in a heap. It took a moment for Isaac to understand what Sam was saying between their hitched sobs.

“Pl- Pl- Pl-lease I-I’m so-sor-sorry nuh- no-o-”

Isaac tried to force down what felt like icewater in his gut. “Sam?” Their eyelids fluttered, their eyes darting around the room, unseeing. “Sam?” His hands shook as he reached out to hold them.

They made no reaction, no indication they even knew Isaac was there. They trembled so violently he could barely hold on to them. He pulled them up to sitting and wrapped his arms around them. They shrunk in his embrace, weakly raising their hands to protect their head.

Tori knelt beside Isaac, Gray right behind her. Isaac swallowed hard, his eyes rising to hers, panicked. “W-what do I do?” He pressed his lips together to keep them from trembling.

“You’ve never seen them like this before?”

He numbly shook his head. “I…I don’t…I don’t think they would keep this from me, I don’t…” Tears brimmed in his eyes.

“I haven’t seen them this way, either.” Gray’s voice was strained. “What do you think -”

“It was the knife.” Isaac pressed his lips to Sam’s hair, distracted, eyes unfocused. “That has to be it. I don’t…I didn’t mean to…”

“Of course not, Isaac. Now just…gently…talk to them. Try to bring them back. Gently.”

He nodded helplessly. “Sam…” he murmured. “Sam, you’re ok…you’re safe…you’re right here with me…”

“Tell them where they are. Sometimes that helps.”

Isaac’s eyes were wide. “Do you want to…um…do it? Do you want to talk to them?”

Tori’s hand rubbed Isaac’s shoulder in soothing circles. “I think it should be you, Isaac. You’re…well…” Tori licked her lips. “They’re yours. It’s ok. You can do it.”

Isaac swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “Um. Sam. You’re in Tori’s house…in the kitchen…uh…” He rocked them gently. “You’re not with him. You’re with me. You’re safe. Sam?” He smoothed their hair away from their forehead as they whimpered. “Sam, you with me?”

The words that were falling from Sam’s lips were so strained with tears Isaac couldn’t understand them. He moved his hand lightly through their hair. He was…frightened. His arms tightened around Sam. Scared I won’t get them back.

“Sam? Sam, you’re safe. Can you tell me what’s wrong? Was it the knife? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“N- n- no-o…no…pl-ease…”

“You’re ok, Sam. It’s ok. You’re safe.”

“H- he…G- Ga-avin…”

“He’s gone. He’s in the hospital. He’ll never hurt you again.”

Sam cowered into Isaac’s chest. “P-lease no…”

“I’ve got you, Sam. Is it ok that I’m holding you?”

They nodded weakly. “I…’m s- sorry ‘m s- sorry…”

“Shhh. You’re alright. You have nothing to be sorry for.” Tears rolled down Isaac’s cheeks and into Sam’s hair.

“I- If I had d- died if…i- if I’d ma- made him ki- ill me…he would n- never…you…never…”

“No.” The word was a growl in Isaac’s throat. “No. Don’t say that. Don’t say that to me. Ever. I’d take it all again, a hundred times, if it meant you stayed alive. Do you hear me?” He guided their chin up. Their face was swollen and red and stained with tears. “Don’t say that. Don’t start that. Please.”

Sam swallowed hard. “’m s-sorry I- I’m sorry…”

“Shh. Sam. You’re ok, you’re safe. Can you talk to me? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“He…c-cut me…he…hurt me, Isaac…please…”

Isaac squeezed his eyes shut. “I know. I know he did.”

“M- made me t- tell him…where to f- find you…”

“But we got away. Remember? He can’t find us here. We’re safe, at Tori’s house.”

“T- Tori…” They reached out blindly. She caught their hand between both of hers.

“I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here, too.”

“Th- thank you…T- Tori…thank you…”

Tori’s voice was husky. “Of course, sweetheart.”

“Isaac…” They huddled against his chest, hooking their fingers into his shirt and pressing their face there until the sound of their whimpers was muffled. “Isaac…”

He ran a hand through their hair and cradled their head against his chest. “I’m here, Sam.”

They trembled. “P- please…just…will y- you hold me? I’m sorry, I d- didn’t mean…I didn’t…”

“Hey.” Isaac pulled Sam into his lap as he pushed himself backwards, resting back against the wall. “I can hold you. No problem. Is this ok?”

They whimpered, pulling him close as tears burned on their cheeks. “Y-yes. It’s…it’s good. I’m s- sorry.”

Isaac’s cheek rested on the top of Sam’s head. Tori moved closer and sat cross-legged on the floor next to them, rubbing soothing circles on Sam’s back. Gray stood by, watching. They crossed their arms and tried to hold back their own tears. They turned when they heard the others walking into the kitchen.

“What happened?!” Finn practically lunged forward, hands outstretched. Their eyes dropped to the brace still on their left hand and they stopped.

Tori turned, holding out a hand to slow Finn’s approach. “It’s ok. They’re not hurt. They’re just…” She swallowed. “Something happened. They got scared, thought they were back with Gavin. They’re alright.”

Vera crouched beside Tori. Their eyes met for a moment before Vera broke the contact, cheeks flushing red. Tori’s lips quirked up. Her smile fell as she realized that among the lot of them, Isaac and Vera had the best idea of what was going on inside Sam’s head. She gave Vera’s shoulder a quick squeeze.

Finn and Ellis hovered just outside the circle surrounding Sam. Ellis put an arm around their shoulder, resting their head against Finn’s. They wound an arm around Ellis’s waist.

“’m sorry.” Sam’s voice was small. Their eyes were still squeezed shut, their head tucked under Isaac’s chin.

The room melted into a flurry of protestations. Everyone scooted closer until they were within reach of Sam.

“Sam…” Isaac’s voice was a whisper. “Is it ok if we all touch you?”

They sniffled and nodded. Hands were then on their back, their hair, their shoulders. They shivered, unraveling just a little bit and nestling closer into Isaac’s chest.

Continued here

@untilthepainstarts​, @womping-grounds, @blue-flare10, @free-2bmee, @quirkykayleetam, @walkingchemicalfire, @inpainandsuffering, @redwingedwhump, @burtlederp, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @insomniacscoprio, @whumpy101, @whumpywhumper

[itsthejuggernautbitch]

cut + burn chapter 3

Pairing: Colossus/You -  Playlist

Summary: Wade decides that sixteen years of mutual pining is long enough. He’s appointed himself your new wingman, and he’s the best in town (or so he likes to think). Or, how the compound effort of Wade Wilson and total romantic frustration gave way to getting exactly what you’ve been waiting for.

Chapter 3: I’m on Fire

Author’s Note: From here on out, it’s smut and good feelings and a little bit of angst. But really, if you’re reading this, you already know.

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection  @emma-frxst  @this-that-and-every-thing-else  @ptite-shit  @lesbianyondu  @chromecutie  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @hazilyimagine  @lenavonschweetz  @nu-tt  @rovvboat  @i-write-fanfic-not-essays  @giruvega  @multi-blogs

---

Sixteen years, you'd imagined this moment. No, really, perhaps it was closer to twenty years. Honestly, you couldn't remember a time when you'd been anything but head over heels for fucking Piotr Rasputin. 

 Fourteen years old - sent to the mansion for causing an electrical shortage that put out power to half your tiny town. No one to talk to, no one to go with you to the mansion. And he shows up to guide you through the school, show you around. He said he got stuck as the welcoming committee, but he was glad that he did.

 Sixteen years old - a silly thing, jaded without reason, surly and altogether adolescent. You'd convinced Colossus to follow you and Kitty out to the forest behind the mansion after curfew and gotten the three of you in such deep shit. He took the blame, but everyone knew it was your idea. You'd been so reckless, had such a disobedient streak - sometimes you couldn't believe anyone had ever let you be in charge of anything.

 Eighteen - sodden, drunk, laughing at Kitty for drunkenly falling in the lake while Colossus took shot after shot with frickin' Wolverine, who you'd somehow convinced to smuggle you a bottle of vodka. You'd gotten sick near the end of the night, vaguely remembered falling in the lake and being plucked out of the icy-cold water by large, silver hands. You'd never seen him touch another drop of alcohol.

 And about five minutes after you'd turned eighteen, you'd been assigned to your duties and effectively ripped away from a future that could have already started. Maybe you were partly to blame for that - you could have asked to be transferred to a different task team after five years of your cleanup assignment. But you were stubborn and relentless, and your powers were good for fuck-all else than mopping up wreckage and your personality only good for wiping up everyone else's mess.

 But here you were, sixteen years to the day you'd left home, ripping off Piotr frickin' Rasputin's pants like it was a goddamn race to see who could get naked faster.

You don't know how many times you'd imagined this over the years: Colossus, in your bedroom, hands sprawled out across your back, touching and tugging and tearing at you, ready to do nothing short of wear your ass out. How many times had you woken up from a dream only to realize it was a dream - that you would have to take care of it yourself. How long had you been pining daydreaming fantasizing? In every different scenario, every dark corner and bright place in your little reptilian brain - you'd agonized and brutalized trying to decide on what this would be like. 

You'd always suspected tenderness - gentle hands, rocking hips, flushed skin and awkward giggles. You'd finish and wake up next to him, damp and doe-eyed and drowsy with unbidden lust - all that romantic crap. 

This… was not that. This was better.

Tenderness was laughable, gentleness altogether forgotten. There would be time enough for tenderness later, maybe in the morning after you'd gotten all you could take and were just jonesing for the cherry on top. A long, drawn-out affair, capped off by sweet words and chills down your spine. 

But this was so much better.

This was heat. This was desperation. This was his teeth on your neck and your tongue in his mouth and your nails down his back, nerve endings scorched and flayed open by sheer need. This was the accumulation of two decades of absolute want, wanton desire, and pained frustration. This was long nights wondering if you'd come home a broken mess, if he'd make it home from his mission, if his last soft message would be his last to you. This was anger - that you'd kept running off on mission after mission. This was sheer elation that he'd made it to your bed - and that your bed would be the only one he'd sleep in again.

Stitches popped as he pulled your shirt over your head and threw it into the corner as if it personally offended him. You refused to detach yourself from him long enough to let him get your pants off - you dropped them yourself.

"Off - this needs to come off," you commanded, tugging at his shirt. He fumbled, jerking his shirt up over his head. You run your hands along the hard planes and lines of his chest, the softness of his stomach, and wrap your arms around his neck. "Bed, please."

He scooped you up into his arms and you swooned. Thank fuck for superstrength.

Colossus dropped you on the bed (gently) and stepped between your legs. You clutched at his belt, unlooped it from his waste, and dropped it to the floor with every other scrap of clothing. His pants and underwear were next, leaving him totally bare. He was all thick, bulging muscles; softness around the waist; strong chest and arms; and clear, unfiltered desire. His cock hung heavy between his thighs, and you would have drooled if it wouldn't have been totally gross.

You silently thanked whoever was listening in the Great Upstairs for this gift of a man.

You pulled him down to your level, arms around his neck, and all but hauled him onto the bed on top of you. He hovered carefully, taking absolute care not to squish you. Nevertheless, that's where the gentleness ended. You'd coaxed out all the desperation and raw hunger he held in his body, and you were very much pleased with the result.

You had never been one to let someone toss you around. You preferred to give the orders and be the one in charge. That hadn't changed and wouldn't, not even for this man. But this was no time to dwell on the intricacies of the ebb and flow of power; you needed him like you'd never needed another human before. Tenderness and an equal exchange could come later - now, you just needed him.

Colossus kissed you, cupping your chin in his hand. With one arm, he held himself steady so as to keep his weight off of you. With the other arm, and without breaking the kiss, he slid his hand down to your waist to pull you in closer. You needed to readjust, but he obliged for you and shifted you up closer to the head of the bed.

"Is this okay?" he asked. Good lord, if his dick alone wasn't enough to get you going, his voice surely was. It rumbled deep in his chest, low and thick with want. It didn't matter what he was saying - his tone was enough. "It's not - I'm not too rough?"

You took his face in your hands and pulled him back down so that his forehead was pressed against yours. "Believe me, I'll tell you if you are. No, this is perfect."

"As long as it pleases you." He pressed a kiss to your cheek. "What would you have me do next?"

"Well," you began, very much aware of what you wanted him to do next, "you are not a small man in any context. You've got some work to do before you're going to get that in."

He pressed another kiss to the line of your throat. "Then I shall get to work..."

Colossus shifted further down towards the end of the bed. His hand ghosted over your side, making you shiver, and came to grasp at the breast closest to him. His fingers trailed over your skin in slow, circular patterns, tickling you until your nipples peaked. He took the one closest to him in his mouth, sucking and flicking at it with his tongue. You grabbed at his shoulders, squirming underneath him. He pinned your hips down to keep you still - to keep you from gleaning any satisfaction before he could give it to you - and looked up at you, still rolling your nipple around his tongue.

"Who's wicked now?" you huffed. He moved to your other breast, taking your nipple between his teeth and nipping gently, gently. He worked his unoccupied hand down between you, cupping your hip. "Seems like it's you. Never imagined you'd be a tease."

Colossus moved lower so that his shoulders were positioned squarely between your thighs. He trailed his tongue down the line of your stomach, dipped into your navel, and looked up at you. "Normally, I am not. But I've..."

"Been waiting a while?"

"Yes," he hummed, working lower. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, lifting your legs over his shoulders. "I have thought about this for a long time."

You raised an eyebrow. "Is that right? And what did you think about?"

He sucked a slow bruise onto your inner thigh, then licked it to soothe the ache he left. "Taking it slow, mostly. I had hoped you would want it like that."

"I do."

He trailed his mouth a little higher, right to the juncture of your thighs, and looked up from his position. You could have died happy right there, with him looking up at you like he had torture on his mind. "I can go slow, if you would prefer?"

"Nope, nuh-uh, I will not last long enough for you to do that."

"Next time, then."

"Next time, any time, every time. Just not this time." 

You sat up on your elbows so you could watch him tongue the line of your slit. It was a simple movement, but from it bloomed the worst itch, like an unending, twisting fire brand to every single nerve. Your muscles tensed, hips flexing, but he held you steady. 

"Wicked, wicked man."

"Not for long, I promise."

Colossus trailed his fingers down your slit just behind his tongue. He dipped a single digit in and found you absolutely leaking for him already. He pushed a finger in, then two, chasing it with his tongue, licking and sucking until you could only groan his name.

You tapped his shoulder like you were tapping out of a fight, warning him to stop. He thankfully, yet still somehow unfortunately, obliged. His mouth was wet from you, his fingers soaked, but he really, really didn't care. He crawled back up your body and claimed your mouth, easing you on to your back.

You felt a bit guilty that you'd hardly done anything for him. "Get on your back and I'll-"

"You are already so close, and I cannot deny you relief after I took my time," Colossus said, hitching your legs up around his waist. You were struck by the heat of his voice, the barely-contained power behind his words. "Next time."

"Lot of next times on your mind?"

He pressed his forehead to yours and took your hands in his, lifting them above your head. "I have dreamed of you my entire adult life. I will take as many next times as you are willing to give me."

"I have a list."

"I will be overjoyed to hear every single item on it."

Keeping your hands trapped underneath one of his, he worked his other hand down to find the base of his cock. He dragged the tip along your slit until he found your opening, teasing you with the head of his cock. You bit your lip as he pushed in, every single inch of him filling you up. The groan of relief he made was unbelievable, low and deep in your ear and positively filthy.

He stilled just long enough for you to stretch comfortably around him, then pulled back and thrust back in. His pace was slow for fear of hurting you, but his control wavered as you lifted your hips to meet his. His thumb pressed against your clit, teasing the nub until you were all but biting into his shoulder to keep from crying out.

You were at the point where you could feel your hips giving out, but Colossus was clearly there, too. His quick, controlled pace started and stuttered, his grip a little too tight. Your name rolled off his tongue, broken and pleading, asking if this was okay, if you were ready. You clenched around him, falling off of that edge just before he did. He pulled out and came on your thigh, rutting against you as he rode out his own orgasm. 

It was a solid minute before either one of you could move. Colossus maneuvered you onto his chest and kissed the top of your head. You splayed out on top of him, unwilling to move more than absolutely necessary.

Five minutes of silence, five minutes of Colossus rubbing your back and pressing his nose into your hair, and you finally moved so you could look up at him. His eyes were soft, and he watched you as if he couldn't dream of looking anywhere else.

"We should probably shower."

"Yes."

"You may have to carry me."

"I will."

"You may have to hold me up in the shower."

"Assuming I can also stand."

"You can fuck me against the shower wall, if you want."

Colossus chuckled softly in your ear. "Language, love."

You kissed along his collarbone, right up to his ear. "You weren't complaining about my language when I was begging you to-"

He kissed you to cut you off. "Shower first, then tease."

"I can do both at the same time, you know."

“Of course you can, love.”

[redrobin-detective]

All Together Now

I’ve been feeling nostalgic and watching some Doctor Who again (ah back to my roots) and I wrote so much DW fic back in the day that I thought I’d share an old favorite. A story in which all 11 (this was written in 2013, just after the 50th so no Capaldi or Whittaker) Doctors meet each other in true disaster fashion. It was fun dialogue and opportunity to flex on my ridiculous amount of DW knowledge. (7′s spectrox toxemia comment to 5, still funny seven years later)

XxX

The Eleventh Doctor was having quite a nice relaxing day. He was bored with it already but he was certainly having it. He stared out at the dark purple waves of Atrios wondering where he would go next. He had dropped Amy and Rory off a while back after the scare at the alien motel and he just couldn't quite get back into the swing of adventuring, not yet anyway. He missed them, plain and simple, and the TARDIS just seemed so lifeless without them.

"Oi, you with the bowtie, would you give me a hand?" The Doctor jumped slightly and considered not turning; actually to be honest he considered getting up and running away screaming. Of course he recognized that voice, how could he not? A few centuries ago he had been speaking in that voice. "Really, it will only take a mo and then you can go back to your sulking." The Doctor scowled and turned around to face his previous incarnation.

"I am not sulking; I was just enjoying the scenery." He looked back over his shoulder at the purple waves, he supposes they were a bit dull. The other Doctor, the tenth version anyway, rolled his eyes.

"Right I forgot never to underestimate the entertainment levels of human tourists. You lot act as if you've never seen an alien ocean." The Doctor quirked an eyebrow, rude and not ginger, yes he was totally seeing it now. Well whatever, he was in it now so he'd better get ole Sandshoes here out of the way before a paradox ensued. How the hell did he not remember this?

"So what sort of help do you need so desperately that you interrupt my… introspection."

"I came here with an Earth woman she has red hair and is very, very loud. I seem to have lost her, have you seen or rather heard her?" The Doctor, or really Eleven since there were two Doctors present, was so confused he couldn't even name the thing that confused him the most. First of all, he doesn't ever remember coming to Atrios with Donna. Second, shouldn't Ten have picked up on the fact that this man was not only a Time Lord but a future version of himself and three, Donna. Donna was here, he could see Donna again. He could talk about adventures and laugh with Donna. All three were very good reasons to stick close to Ten and find out just what was happening. He shook his head.

"I'm afraid not, but I could help you look for her, if you want…" Ten frowned suspiciously and Eleven couldn't help but feel vain about the wrinkles that appeared around his eyes and mouth. "You know, to get away from the sulking thing for a bit, you're right, I just said goodbye to some good mates and well-" Ten smiled and clapped him on the back, Eleven was mildly surprised nothing exploded. They began walking down the beach as Ten went off on a long ramble.

"Sure of course, I understand, come on. I do love chatting; I do it a lot apparently. Donna says I've got a gob that just doesn't stop and I tell her that she's not much better what with all her shouting and stuff. I'm sorry I've gone off again haven't I? What did you say your name was again?" Eleven blinked, would John Smith be too obvious?

"Er uh Rory, Rory Williams." Ten grinned.

"Well my name is…" His eyes darted to something over Eleven's shoulder and they widened to the size of saucers. Eleven almost turned but Ten stopped him finishing loudly. "Yes, and I am Wilfred, Wilfred Mott, lovely to meet you." He leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. "Ok Rory, act natural. I know this bloke but he doesn't know me yet. I'm a time traveler so this is possible, it'll be over soon. So just stay calm and act natural."

"Oi, hold up, I've got a question. Have you two stooges seen a young girl, about 19 or so with curly blonde hair?" Eleven sucked in his breath and bit his lip. This was bad and getting baderer by the second. As if dealing with Ten wasn't bad enough but now Nine pops up out of nowhere?

"Rose?" Ten choked out and Eleven wanted to roll his eyes. He forgot how that incarnation was nearly overwhelmed by his sentimentality for the London shop girl. Eleven frowned, he couldn't really blame him though, he wasn't much better with his little Amelia. Nine walked over to them with concerned look.

"Oh so you've seen her then, that's good. I've been looking for her for a while now, honestly I don't know what part of 'don't wander off' they don't they get."

Ten and Eleven exchanged a look in which Ten mimed a quick shush noise. It made the eldest Doctor want to tear his hair out. Here he was hiding from Ten who was now trying to convince him to hide from Nine. He was fairly certain this couldn't get any worse. Nine glared at them clearly getting impatient.

"If you two are done making faces at each other, would one of you point me in the direction of my companion? I'd like to get off this heap of rubble as soon as I can thank you very much." A discreet glance in Ten's direction told Eleven that his younger self was still too caught up in the thought of meeting his Rose again. He sighed and turned to address Nine.

"Um sorry mate, don't know any Roses here. My friend… Wilfred and I haven't seen anyone else and hopefully no one else unexpected pops along." Eleven said with a strained smile, the last part muttered under his breath. Ten seemed to snap out of his stupor and properly look at him for the first time. Eleven wasn't sure what would happen if they all started deducing identities but he'd rather not find out. While he was curious as to why Nine was here, this many Doctors in one area couldn't possibly be good.

"Pardon chaps!" The three Doctors froze as Eight all dressed to the nines – dear Rassilon he did not just think that- snuck up behind them. They all turned and gave him a thinly disguised grimace while the pretty faced man just kept smiling as if nothing were wrong. So this is before the Time War then, hard to imagine a time when he was that innocent. "Would one of you tell me where the nearest town is? Lucie wanted to do a bit of shopping or she did before I lost her. I suppose I should be asking if you've seen her about. She's about yeah tall, Northern accent, rather brash." Eight said with a small, kind smile.

"Nope, nuh-uh, none whatsoever!" Ten squeaked rocking on his heels while Nine took a few steps back. Eight regarded them all with a funny expression on his face as his gaze sharpened.

"Is everything alright? Are you in some sort of trouble?"

"No!" Nine said stepping forward with a menacing glare. Eleven winced a little; it appeared Nine was still wounded by his previous regeneration's actions during the war or lack there of perhaps. "And I think it's about time you got going you hussy." Eight took a step back in surprise only for a very distinctive umbrella to swing down in-between the two. Eight's surprise shifted from one Doctor to another as he turned to the newest member of the group.

"Now gentleman, I don't know what's going on between the two of you but you're grown men and I'd think you'd better start acting like it." Seven purred pulling his umbrella back and hooking it onto his arm. "Now really, what is going on here? And what are all you doing staring at me for?" Four Doctors turned to look at one another.

What in the name of Rassilon had he been drinking last night?

"Excuse me dear fellows." Seven's eyes widened as Five approached followed by a very pensive Six who hung back a little, probably to observe to his past self. "Is there a hospital nearby?" He asked jovially before subtly leaning forward gesturing his head back towards Six and whispering conspiratorially. "I don't think that man is quite stable, I think it's best if he got some proper rest." The group was all silence but he thinks he heard Nine muttering about the blasted coat under his breath to which Eleven wholeheartedly agreed. Which would makes sense as they were the same person after all. Eight cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry er Sir, but we're all tourists as well I'm afraid so we're just as lost as you are." He said trailing off slightly as he eyed the group before finally settling on Eleven. "Funny, I thought I'd gotten past the bowtie thing years ago." He mumbled quietly and Eleven huffed and indignantly straightened his very cool accessory. Oblivious, Five nodded a bit sadly casting a glance at Six.

"Yes, well I am a Doctor maybe I can do something on my own. I do wish I knew what had happened that would make him so peculiar." He paused and Seven brought his umbrella to his lips.

"A dose of spectrox toxaemeia and a hero complex will do that any day." The rest of the Doctors cleared their throats or coughed or just outright snorted. Five blinked as he eyed Seven.

"I'm sorry I didn't quite catch that, did you say spectrox-"

"-toxaemia, yes it's a poison found primary on Androzani Minor in the Sirius system. A horrible way to go, or so, I've been told and I'm hoping not to find out myself truth be told." The Fourth Doctor interrupted smiling broadly while Five sputtered before readjusting his celery to cover the motion. The Fourth Doctor adjusted his hat and grinned manically. "Hello, I'm the Doctor; might I ask what's going on here?" Six finally seeming have lost interest in sulking, stepped forward and instinctively all the other Doctors reached forward to stop him from acting too rashly. Too late though.

"Well that's a fairly presumptuous question for you of all people to be asking, Doctor." He said, jabbing Four in the chest. "I think we really ought to be asking who you are and are you doing here?" There has got to be a small star exploding somewhere as five Doctors simultaneously face palmed. The Fourth Doctor blinked and not breaking eye contact reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag.

"Why my good man, I think you need a jelly baby."

"I don't believe I do thank you very much!" Six shouted tugging on his lapels. Seven stepped in and held his hands in a placating way.

"Gentlemen please there's no reason to shout." Six turned his glare onto his future self.

"Oh don't I? Just look at your jumper man. Who dressed you this morning? The Riddler?" Nine snorted at this.

"Oi have you looked in the mirror recently, thank God I got over that phase quickly enough." Six's annoyance melted as he took in the rest of large group as if noticing them for the first time. "Wait are you all...?"

"Did it really take you that long to work it out?" Four asked, biting of the head of a jelly baby. "I weep for my future." He rolled his eyes over in the direction of the older Doctors. Ten quirked an eyebrow in annoyance, "what?"

"Oh nothing," Four said tucking away his jelly babies. "Just looking at a future mid-life crisis, practically children you are. Honestly the next one's going to be twelve years old." His eyes slid over to Eleven, "oops too late." Eleven's mouth twitched, oh to hell with the timelines.

"Oh well aren't you just the coolest with your scarf and your candies." He spat, throwing his arms in the air which probably wasn't the best move if the looks on everyone's' faces were any indication.

"Yes thank you for noticing, a trait you seemed to have misplaced young man. Tell me, are your parents coming to pick you up soon?" Four teased.

"Oh I'd get that big head of yours out of the clouds before you take a fall, opps," he mimicked "too late I guess. Celery boy is better than you every day." Five grimaced.

"Please don't draw me into this narcissistic competition." But still the bickering continued as their voices grew louder and tempers grew shorter.

"You should've wiped out the Daleks when you had the chance you maniac! You could have avoided the whole damn war!" Nine shouted

"Oh will you be quiet you! What happen? Did the pretty princess over there swallow glass to turn into such a bitter angry man? My clothes are a disguise but yours show how ugly you truly are!" Six retorted.

"Disguise for what? Your dreadful personality? If you weren't so distracted by your clothes you could have saved Peri you half wit numbskull." Ten interrupted.

"Hey now therrrrrre everyone calm down. What are we fighting for? Can't we handle this as Doctors?" Seven countered.

"I do concur, we are the Doctor and we should be acting like it so if everyone would just..." Eight pleaded.

"Shut up Lord Byron, just because you didn't fight in the war doesn't mean I don't blame you for it! We're all responsible!" Nine accused.

"Oi, big ears! X-nay on the War-eh." Eleven hissed.

"Mmmhmm!" Though quiet, the sound of an older man clearing his throat caused all the Doctors to turn and find, well himself. The First, Second and Third Doctors stood there looking none too pleased at their future incarnations. The bickering Doctors had least at the sense to look ashamed.

"Now then, which one of you is the eldest?" The First asked giving his cane a light tap on the ground. The Eleventh Doctor slowly stepped forward and rocked awkwardly on his feet at the aggravated look his younger counterparts gave him. Honestly, they should know that he couldn't help the face.

"Oh for Rassilon's sake look at that, younger than Susan I'd bet. Oh no matter, no matter, will you tell me what in the name of sanity is happening, hmmm?" One demanded causing the other two Doctors to nod.

"Yes please enlighten us since you're clearly the most aged and experienced." Three drawled out sarcastically.

"Hmm, what's a boy got to say that we don't know?" Two huffed. Choosing to ignore thm, Eleven continued.

"We're not quite sure but somehow we all ended up in this time and place. I came across Ten who was-" he paused as if remembering something important. "Hang on, I came here alone but didn't you all come with companions?" He saw the other Doctors' eyes grow bright with understanding.

"Yeah, like I said before, I came with Donna" "and Rose" "Lucie..." "Ace is accompanying me currently" "Peri, wait what do you mean I could have saved P-" "I had Tegan and Turlough" " the savage Leela who-" "Miss Sarah Jane Smith" "What? But where did Jamie and Victoria go?"

One nodded at the string of names he did not know but someday would. "And I came with Steven and Dodo, yes I see your point young man, where did they go?" The Doctors suddenly looked around as if it would cause their companions to reappear. Seven took a few steps back away from the group.

"Yes, well I need to be finding Ace. I brought her here to let loose some old Nitro-9 and Rassilon knows what she'll do without prrroper supervision." He tipped his hat, "I look forward to meeting you all, well not particularly." Four smirked as he also turned and sauntered his own way.

"Yeah, same goes for Leela. I don't want to know what she's getting up to. Probably murder if I were to guess. Don't worry, I'll be sure to enjoy being an adult while it lasts. Goodbye, my dears." Nine huffed and spun on his heels as he stalked away.

"Forgot how unpleasant that one could be, reminds me too much of you all. Now I'm off to find my Rose, I swear if I see any of you again-"

"I should be going too," Five interrupted leaning forward to shake Ten and Eleven's hands. "Don't worry what they say, I'm sure you're all doing a cracking job. Have a lovely rest of your day." Ten smiled and returned the handshake enthusiastically.

"Yeah you see that's what I'm talking about! A true inspiration, now you sir, are the Doctor. My Doctor I guess if I had to pick a favorite." The two men smiled and wandered off together. Slowly the Doctors dispersed in their own directions, probably searching for their companions until only One and Eleven remained. Eleven tried to ignore One's rather penetrating stare and instead nervously tugged at his collar.

"You said you came here alone?" One began.

"For now," Eleven shrugged. "It's too dangerous to travel with humans for a long time. They get worn out and sometimes-sometimes bad things happen. It's better this way so I don't needlessly endanger lives." One pursed his lips before treating Eleven to a small smile and a light shoulder tap.

"Hmm so you are wiser than you look. Ho it's nice to know I look that good when my eyes are as old and troubled as yours are. So humor me old man, did we ever get around to fixing that old Chameleon Circuit?"

In a bar about 12 miles away

"I'm bored when's the Doctor going to get here? He promised us a pleasure planet but all I see around here is dirt." Tegan moaned sitting her head on the bar. Something had obviously gone astray as there were many, many people here looking for the Doctor but describing all sorts of different looking men. 

One savage looking girl even described the first Doctor she had met, the scarf one, almost to a tee. She was busy arguing with a short teenager over explosives and Tegan was sure the place would be blown up in about 5 minutes. It didn't help that this obnoxious red head kept fawning over this Rose girl. Apparently she was important or something. Boy did she ever needed a drink.

A couple others were huddled in groups talking about their Doctors and what they were like but Tegan was just too upset for that kind of thing right now. All she wanted was for that Time Lord who couldn't tell time to get in here so she could give him a swift kick to the behind. She didn't even have Turlough to pass the time with as he was too busy chatting up some of the prettier girls. One girl was so scantily clad even Tegan was embarrassed. Ugh alien or not, he was still a man. She'd have cozied up to the handsome one in the kilt but the way that Victorian lady held onto him said he was off limits.

The sound of the door swinging open caught her attention as an older looking gentleman wandered in and opened his eyes wide in surprise as he saw them all. He muttered something to himself with a wry little smile on his face and took the seat next to her. He smiled sweetly and she realized that he wasn't nearly as old as he looked, just dirty and worn down like he'd been in a war or something. But there was an impish sparkle in her eyes that was terribly familiar... Oh lord it couldn't be.

"Excuse me Tegan," he began in a light voice. "I'm looking for the Doctor." Tegan smirked.

"Well, you've certainly come to the right place."