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#but you can call him barry :)
macksartblock · 6 months
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weird timing but s1 dads and their bastard fathers (and frank)
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gomzdrawfr · 8 months
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spreading messy hair Price propaganda idc
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carefulfears · 1 year
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perhaps the most objectively hilarious txf dynamic is scully and krycek hating each other so fucking much while narratively fulfilling the exact same role. scully baby are you mad because he's you with longer eyelashes
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steakout-05 · 10 months
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oh my poor sick little man..... he has a bad fever :(
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i've always had a soft spot for sickfics and i like seeing strong characters get taken care of by the ones who love them most :) craig is making him chicken noodle soup in the kitchen, barry's favourite meal to have whenever he's not feeling well.
bonus: earlier version with ripped sleeves
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i liked the thought of him being all snug in the only piece of clothing he hasn't ripped so i drew the sleeves of his jammies because it was cuter :)
#barry steakfries#jetpack joyride#why does tumblr always compress my drawings grrrgrr#he is sikc :(#i feel like if barry got sick he'd be the type of guy to be like ''what! i'm not sick no waayyy haha''#and then die of a coughing fit immediately after#he'd be very grumpy about not being able to go jetpacking and having to stay at home all day#he'd be like ''what happened to watching cartoons when i was home sick!? this is so BORING''#and craig would be like ''there there its ok you'll live. go to bed barry''#also i love how barry canonically has homely cute flower blankets on his bed#i like to think he's kinda embarrassed by them because he always calls his home his 'secret hideout'#and always talks about how cool it is and whatnot and then you walk inside and it's just. comfy.#only craig knows about the cosier bits of his home he's too prideful to tell anyone else#craig thinks it's nice :)#wait tumblr fucking deleted the other tags i wrote goddamnit#barry would be like ''i'm not THAT sick! i don't need to be pampered! i'm a man i can do it!''#and then when craig drags him home he's like ''ehh... i'm dying craig..... craig tuck me in.....''#he's stubborn but he's a big softie :)#i like to think he doesn't like to ask for help because he feels like it's weak#but at the same time he knows he really needs help because he feels really sick#he may complain a lot and act all fussy but he doesn't resist to craig taking care of him#cause he knows he's gotta let his guard down every once in a while + he's too tired to do it#he's too proud to admit it but he likes being taken care of by craig every now and then :)#ahh how i love stubborn characters who just wanna be held...
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un0vian · 7 months
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YOU
I’ve been looking EVERYWHERE FOR YOU!!!
YOURE THE ONE WHO MADE THE DAD LANCE ART!!!
Thank you for making it, it looks amazing and I wish that Pokémon and/or DeNA WILL MAKE SILVER SAY DAD TO LANCE!
#makeSilversaydad2024
YOOOO
THANK YOU!!!! I’m a very big Dad Lance enjoyer, and I’m ALSO hoping we’ll get even more Dad Lance content in pokemas (or even better, in a mainline game if there’s ever another remake or anything like that), AND HOPING THAT SILVER WILL CALL HIM DAD
they’re found family your honor. #makeSilversaydad2024
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danothan · 1 year
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sniffs. what changed 😢
#doing a dcshg v1/v2 comparison#v2 is def stronger in almost every way#i’ll give ​v1 some credit it does have some good designs#karen and hal here for example#karen’s side braids are striped like a bumblebee?? i mean cmon that’s just character design genius#and you KNOW i gotta appreciate a pilot jacket hal (not pictured)#but the storylines and pacing and animation and voice acting are a lot better in v2#the girls are kinda uninspired in v1 but the boys feel more in-character (less boys vs girls the way v2 is)#v2’s girls have a lot of variety and distinct roles but the boys as we know are. well they’re a hit or miss#ivy is sooo much better in v2 she might be its best character besides barry#carol is unfortunately not great in both versions and ik that’s the comics’ fault#but it still feels dismissive. like you can make a hopeless romantic character without misogyny#anyway personal biases (and also weird moral lessons) aside i’ve been enjoying both!#obviously the show is called dc superhero GIRLS so i have to give my vote to v2#but also bc barry is kinda just perfect in v2 like the update was clearly made by someone that loved him specifically#but also hates hal specifically it’s weird#like how are you gonna be a flash fan and not know that flashes have a history of friendship with green lanterns#v1 makes him a slapstick character too but it’s actually funny. so there IS a difference#but i’m starting to like v2 hal anyway :( i can’t fault him for the show’s misgivings :(#danbles#dcshg#karen beecher#hal jordan#green lantern#dc#i’ve now seen 1 season of v1 and a random mish mash of episodes of v2. sighh i’ll go back and watch them in order to compare 😔#no one is asking for this i just love comparing and contrasting things#oh and btw v1 cheetah is exactly like toralei monster high. i wonder if they knew what they were doing#btw x2 barry and hal share the same VA in v1. just putting that out there
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thwackk · 2 years
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Omg, you are single-handedly getting me into Halbarry, can you please tell me which comics or media I need to consume to get more of them! Thank you so much ur so cool!!!!
i’ve infected you with the virus omg i’m sorry to tell you there is no cure. uhhmmm… only comic i can remember off the top of my head is the flash and green lantern: the brave and the bold! it’s short and fun and just real wholesome. good content
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vendriin · 2 years
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Men in Black (1997)
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crystalkitty1220 · 2 years
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Wolfy read through that whole paragraph and I watched Daiku's face go into realization that we do that too at times -Lix
Hm, yeah I can see those too. Really comes to show how realistic some of Kai's writings are. I didn't even notice after all the times we've read it
Also holy fuck you have amazing analysis skills. -Wolfy
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Yeah I kinda tend to read through things too many times. First readthrough just for fun, and then again as a different reader pov, and then as character 1 pov, then as character 2 pov, and occasionally as "trying to figure out what the author was doing with this" pov. This was a special case though, because I had specifically done a read-through recently where I was putting together a list of Chris' and Isaac's interactions and notable thoughts. The list wasn't ever completed but I had all the bits up to ch20.
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writingatdusk · 1 year
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My mom has never watched Barry, but I’ve talked about NoHo Hank before, and she’s so supportive of my blatant pettiness about how some reacted to his actions in the last episode, and how I refuse to let go of him.
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vilnan · 2 years
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i rly love the cutscenes with cullen, leliana and josephine in the champions of the just, they're just so creepy
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deadsetobsessions · 7 months
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.3
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]
“Aquaman.” Batman swept into the room, beelining straight for the suddenly apprehensive Atlantean king.
“Batman. What can I do for you?”
“Phantom. Does he pay taxes?”
“Pardon?”
Batman makes a low noise that had Aquaman’s danger senses buzzing.
“Does Phantom have to pay taxes. Towards Atlantis.”
“No…? Why?”
“He wanted money, in exchange for… information, of a delicate sort,” Batman said, diplomatically avoiding the topic of Phantom bargaining for the identities of corpses in exchange for a measly $100 dollars per identity. Like a flea market dealer, that one was.
“You encountered Phantom again?” Aquaman perked up.
“Yes. Gotham’s bay is… polluted.” Batman paused. “With victims. Of murder.”
The entire area quieted as heads turned towards the Dark Knight.
“Yes, I am… distantly aware of Gotham’s waters.” By that, Aquaman gets green around the gills whenever he turns his awareness in that direction. There’s a reason he doesn’t enter Gotham, and the Dark Knight’s ban is only half of that reason. “Ah, but you’re correct. For what purpose would Phantom need mortal currency?”
“Hn.”
“Maybe he needs some stuff?” Flash zipped to a stop next to Batman, feet tapping as he dug into the pile of snacks cradled in his arms. “Us mortals are always coming up with new things, maybe he wants to try some games or something?”
Batman tilted his head down, seriously considering Flash’s suggestion. “It’s plausible.”
“Barry, Barry, Barry. He’s old as hell, right? He probably wants to try the new booze!”
“Hal, my man!” Flash fist bumped Green Lantern, who came up. “You’re back! What happened to John?”
“Dunno. He got called somewhere that way,” Green Lantern waved a vague hand towards the left. “Had to deal with a politician or something from that area.” He shrugged, swinging an arm over Barry’s shoulders to put him in a headlock and stealing a chip.
“Huh. Anyways, would our mortal alcohol even work on a demi-god or something?”
“We should ask!” Hal turned towards Batman. “You should ask if he wants to go for a drink, spooky!”
“He’s a child.”
“He’s been around for more than a millennia, Bats.”
“Informational gathering, right, Hal?” Flashgot out of the headlock, quickly munching on his snacks to stop Green Lantern from stealing them.
“Totally. Yup.”
“…Fine.”
“Wait, are we just gonna ignore that Gotham’s waters are full of bodies?”
“Yes.”
——
“What?” Danny asked, mind half on the bags he’s dragging out of the water and the other half on the essay he has to submit in about four hours.
“Green Lantern wanted to invite you out for a drink.”
Danny turned to the stoic Gotham knight, who had his wrist computer out to log the bodies’ info the moment Danny gave him the information. Some of them even told Danny who murdered them, so Batman could start building cases with solid leads.
Danny’s only twenty. He’s not legal yet but he doesn’t want to give any clues to who he is. How is he supposed to…
Ah!
“Can’t.” Danny shrugged. “I’m not legal. I died when I was fourteen so…” Danny trailed off, speechless at the drowned puppy face Batman was giving him. What the fuck.
“Anyways, fork over my payment.”
Batman wordlessly hands him a wad of hundreds.
“What do you need cash for?” Batman suddenly asked.
“Huh? Isn’t it obvious?” Danny tucked it in. “Material things, obviously. I need a blanket,” because holy shit, Gotham is damn cold this time of year. “Anyways, see you same time next week, litterer.”
“I don’t litter.”
“Tell that to the batarangs I found under the water,” Danny grumbled. “But I’ll stop calling you that if you get a signature from Poison Ivy. I have a friend who loves her.”
“An alive friend?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?”
Danny snickered and disappeared. He’s gotta cram that essay.
——
“There’s a possibility Phantom might be homeless.”
“Batman, I mean this in the nicest way, but for the love of Atlantis, please stop giving me headaches. It’s time like these I wish I stayed a lighthouse keeper.”
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soaps-mohawk · 3 months
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 27: Drown In It
Summary: Your heat lingers closer and closer, which leaves you with some conflicting feelings. Of course, you're not going to worry about them for much longer...
Paring: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 6,179 words
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, bodily fluids, heat cycles, knotting, licking, biting, grinding, spanking (it's like once), kissing, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, a sprinkle of angst, language, emotions, and of course some fluff
A/N: And we're in it again, folks. It's happening (again). Though this time, there may be a bit of a surprise....
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
(Yes I am using a Barry Sloane gif, trust me you will understand once you read the chapter)
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You freeze, dread and panic beginning to fill you as you stand in the doorway to the rec room. The pounding of your heart is loud in your ears, which are quickly growing hot. The urge to turn tail and run is strong, yet you can’t move, frozen in place by the sight in front of you. 
Simon is sitting, far too relaxed, in the chair where he normally sits. There’s a book in his hands, the crinkle of the page being turned is like a gunshot. You almost flinch in response, but hold still, wondering if you could back away before he notices your presence. You know it would be futile. He would have heard the crinkling of the bag of chips in your hand, the quiet rustle of it against your leg as soon as you turned the corner. 
“Interesting book, this.” He says, not bothering to look up as he sits reclined in the chair, about halfway through the book in his hands. 
Your mouth goes dry as you stare at him. You might never have given him, or the book, a second glance had you not been so clearly able to see the cover. It was almost like he was doing it on purpose, hoping you’d see what he’d found, what he’d discovered in your underwear drawer. It’s almost like he was hoping you’d walk in and see it. Or maybe he heard you coming and positioned himself so you’d see it. 
“‘The Powerful Omega.’” He says, closing the book to stare at the title. 
You shift on your feet nervously, ready to run if you need to, the bag of chips crinkling as you tighten your grip on it.. “I-I can explain-” 
“No need.” He says, cutting you off as he flips the book back open. “Is this how you got into our heads so easily?” 
Despite the accusing question, his tone isn’t malicious or even disparaging. You fiddle with your fingers, starting to feel like you’re being tested. If you say yes, what will he do? Get angry, accuse you of manipulation? But if you say no, he might think you’re lying, or perhaps he already knows the answer. 
“I-It helped a bit.” You say, shuffling forward a step. “At first. I almost forgot it was in there.” 
“‘Learn to Speak Their Language.’” He reads off the chapter title, your cheeks warming a bit. Of course he’d be there when you caught him. He stares at you over the top of the book, your gaze turned to the black TV screen. You can’t stare at him. Not right now. “Is this why you asked me to train you?” 
There’s no lying to him. You already know that. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, nodding. “It was part of it. It gave me the idea, but then I realized if I’m gonna go around making stupid decisions like punching alphas, maybe I should know how to defend myself a little. I-I also thought it might help me get closer to you, at least get you to tolerate me a bit.” 
He huffs out a laugh. “Well, I can say it worked. Was more you than anything, but I was a bit touched you asked me.” 
Your nervousness begins to calm as you realize he’s not angry you have the book. He’s also not angry you used it to get closer to them, to begin to integrate yourself into their pack. You set your chips down on the coffee table, sitting on the edge of the couch. 
“How did you get it?” He asks. 
“I called Kate.” You give him a small smile. “When she sent me the first uh...care package. That was part of it.” 
He huffs, shaking his head. “Sneaky thing.” 
“I mean, one of you was bound to find it eventually.” You shrug. “Thought it might be Johnny with how often he sneaks into my underwear drawer. Though, I suppose he steals them from the laundry basket more often.” 
He hums, his gaze returning to the book. 
“Are you really reading it?” You ask. 
“‘Course.” He responds, getting comfortable in the chair again. 
A smile tugs at your lips as you watch him, his focus zeroing in on the book again. You get an idea, rising from the couch to scan the shelves in the rec room. You find a manual on guns and ammunition, sitting back down with the heavy book in one hand, your chips in the other. Simon glances at you over the top of his book again as you make yourself comfortable on the other side of the couch, the title clearly visible as you turn to the first page. 
“Really?” He asks, exasperated. 
You shrug, glancing up at him. “It’s only fair.” 
“Little shit.” He rolls his eyes, letting out a sigh as he goes back to reading your book. You sink down against the arm of the couch, using your book to hide your satisfied grin. 
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“It never fails to amaze me.” 
“Huh?” You turn to face Johnny, a piece of popcorn falling out of your mouth from how much you've managed to stuff inside in one bite. 
“How much ye can eat during your pre-heat.” He says, grabbing the piece of popcorn that landed on the couch between you. 
You attempt to say something in response, but it comes out as a muffled mess around the popcorn you’re chewing. Johnny eats the piece that fell, reaching for the bowl. You move it out of his reach, pressing your foot against his side to keep him from getting too close. 
“Mine.” You say, pushing against his side, trying to get him to move away from you. 
He’s undeterred, using his size against you as he reaches for the bowl. A low growl rubles in your chest as you lean backwards, trying to keep it out of his reach. He freezes at the sound, staring down at you as you glare at him. 
“Did ye just growl at me?” He blinks at you, his lips turning up in a grin. 
You bare your teeth at him, another growl rumbling in your chest. You go for his arm, his reflexes just managing to yank it out of the way before your teeth sink into his skin. 
“Alright, alright.” He says, holding up his hands as he sinks back into his spot. “I got the message.” He grins as you sit up, holding the bowl protectively against your chest. “That might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” He pulls out his phone, snapping a picture as you glare at him. 
Your glare deepens as you shovel more popcorn into your mouth. He nearly giggles as he stares down at his phone, tapping on the screen a few times. You push yourself up, trying to get a look at his screen. “Who are you sending that to?” You ask between mouthfuls of popcorn. 
“The group chat.” He says, as if that’s not revealing news. 
“Group chat?” You ask around another mouthful. 
He nods. “Just the four of us fellas for blethering.” 
You blink at him, trying to translate what he means in your pre-heat addled brain. “Huh?” You say stupidly, a piece of popcorn dropping back into the bowl from the handful you had been holding up halfway to your mouth. 
“We like tae gossip among each other.” He says, giving you a grin. 
“Do you...talk about me?” You ask before shoving the handful of popcorn in your mouth. 
“All the time.” He answers, using his reflexes to steal a piece of popcorn from the bowl. 
You’re too distracted to care, though if your mouth hadn’t been full you might have been tempted to bite him in retaliation. “‘Bout what?” You ask, the words almost unintelligible thanks to the popcorn you’re still chewing. 
“Oh, lots of things.” He grins. “How cute ye look all cozy in yer bed, how nicely yer arse looks in your skids, how we got ye to moan like that, tips on how tae make yer legs shake-” He does let out a giggle as you softly kick him in his side.
“Rude.” You pout as you curl up against the arm of the couch away from him with your bowl. “Could at least include me.” 
“Aw but we need our space,” He says, leaning closer to you. “Fer all our mingin' gab.” 
You give him a look, still trying to process his words as he presses a kiss to your head. He uses your distraction to steal a piece of popcorn from the bowl, immediately jumping away from you as you react, letting out another growl. The popcorn bowl falls to the floor as you leap at him, ready to sink your teeth into his arm. 
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“You're avoiding me.”
Simon glances up at you before looking back at his computer. “Not on purpose. You know the dangers if you go into heat too close.” 
He’s right. Though, you think you’d know if your heat was starting and you could get away before things got dangerous. Of course, with his sensitive instincts, he might notice before you do. Things would get ugly fast if John noticed too and tried to stop Simon. You’re not sure the betas could get to you in time to try and stop them, or at least get you away in hopes it clears their heads enough. 
You look around Simon’s office, the desk shoved further back to make room for the two cots set up in the corner closest to the door. Soon he and Johnny would be shut in here, avoiding the hallway around the corner while you and John fucked nearly non-stop for the next week. 
It feels different now that you’ve reached this new stage of your relationship with Simon. He’s not on the outside anymore, not separate from you. There’s a strong bond there now, one both of you have contributed to. He had made the boundary clear, even without having to say anything. He won’t take the risk of helping you. He’s not your alpha. 
However, wouldn’t complain if he were the one to get to you first, to lock you in his office and throw you on the cots and fuck you stupid for the next week. You shift on your feet at the thought of taking his knot, being pumped full of him and locked together. Would he remove his mask? Would you remember his face at the end of your heat-induced haze? 
He’d never forgive himself if it happened. He’d close himself off, avoid you like the plague. It would shred that fragile bond that has been set in place. 
You won’t entertain those thoughts anymore. Not when he’s so clearly drawn the line. 
You take half a step forward, pausing at the growl that rumbles in his chest. He’s setting another boundary, warning you of the dangers both of you pose towards each other in this delicate time. 
You continue forward despite the obvious warning, pushing against the instincts telling you to heed it and stay back. Yet, he doesn't stop you as you pass his desk, slinging a leg over him and planting yourself in his lap. It’s obvious, the tension in his body as you sit there, as if you might go into heat at any second. There will be signs once it is coming on, symptoms different from ones you feel outside of heats. 
You stare up into his eyes, his gaze sharp but not piercing as it once might have been. There’s a softness to it, something you might even call affection as he stares down at you. 
“Will you kiss me?” You ask softly, hesitantly. “One last time? So maybe I might remember you still like me when I wake up on the other side of this?” 
“I don’t think you could forget that.” He says, his hands dropping to grip your thighs. 
“Still...would be nice to have one.” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck. “For good luck?” 
He hums, the sound rumbling in his chest, before he lifts a hand, pulling his mask up to his nose. He leans forward, meeting you halfway as he presses his lips to yours. 
The kiss is searing, conveying a deep passion and almost a longing feeling as his lips move against yours. Does he regret his decision not to even offer to help you? You’re not sure even you would have said yes to his offer. It’s only your second heat, the second time you’ve trusted your pack to care for you in such a vulnerable position. While you don’t distrust Simon and his ability to take care of you, a deep part of you longs for your alpha and the surety and safety he’s already proven. 
Simon’s hand slides up your back, brushing over your neck before cradling the back of your head. He holds you still as he licks the seam of your lips. You moan softly against his mouth, wishing you could pull him closer, wishing you could sink into him and avoid the inevitable heat lingering over your head. 
A sigh is pulled from your lips as his tongue presses into your mouth, taking its time to explore before flicking against your own. His other arm wraps around your back, tugging you against him, chest to chest, legs spread around his hips. Had you not been trying to rest your body, or entirely disinterested in sex currently, you might have fucked him right in this chair, one last time before you’re lost to your heat and your alpha. 
He pulls away from your lips, resting his forehead against yours as you both pant softly. The silence is loud, but it speaks volumes between you, sharing things you’re too scared to say out loud, things that push the boundaries of vulnerability between the two of you. There will be time afterward, plenty of time to gently push those boundaries and continue to worm your way into his most intimate thoughts. 
You open your eyes, meeting his gaze. You can see the dots of freckles on his skin, the shades of brown in his eyes. His breath is warm against your lips as you sit there, almost like you’re trying to commit each other to memory, as if you’ll forget about him as soon as the door seals you and John inside your room. You will forget in the throes of your heat, but once the haze fades and you come back to yourself, you’ll remember him. He won’t be far, and neither will you. 
“See you on the other side?” You say, cupping his face, letting your thumb trace the line of his jaw, his stubble prickling your skin. 
He leans forward, kissing you once more, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. 
“See you on the other side.” 
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You’re on fire.
Sweat has soaked your skin and right through the loose shirt you had donned earlier. It’s dripping down your face, offering no relief from the lava pulsing under your skin. You’re surprised the liquid doesn’t start sizzling as it drips down your chest and arms. You’re panting softly, legs spread as you lay on the bed. There’s a steady pulsing between your legs, the ache and need beginning to steadily grow more intense as slick seeps out of you and onto the blankets below. 
You woke earlier with a crawling sensation under your skin, your pajamas quickly ditched in favor of the baggy shirt to avoid the overstimulation of any tight fabric. You knew last night as soon as the ravenous hunger began to abate that you were close. Mid-bite of some potatoes the hunger had faded and suddenly they looked almost repulsive. Simon and Johnny had moved into his office and you quarantined in your room with Kyle and John on standby. 
Sleep had evaded you for most of the night as you waited for it to start, expecting it to be in the middle of the night like last time. Your mind had faded in and out of sleep, expecting to wake any moment with the uncomfortable feverish heat beneath your skin. 
Instead you woke early with no sign of it yet, still dry between your legs and almost cold from the always cool air in the barracks. The only sign had been the itching, crawling feeling beneath your skin. 
You’d made it just past lunch, Kyle bringing in food for you, which you had struggled through, only eating to try and get some last calories into your body. The familiar electrolyte drinks and nutrition bars that will keep both you and John alive over the next week, sit in stacks next to the door, some already set up on your nightstand. Your bed has been stripped down to a sheet, your pillow, and the blanket you slept under last night. Your stuffed animals and decorative pillows sit piled on your desk in the corner. 
It came on suddenly, the heat beneath your skin. The prickling sensation had begun in your core and flared outward to your very fingertips. It had been like a flushing feeling, the heat rippling through you. The book in your hands slid onto the floor as the deep cramping began, making you wince. You’re not quite sure what had been worse, the pain or the initial panic. 
Your phone is on the floor with your book after you’d managed to send a text to Kyle. The panic is still bubbling under the surface as your brain begins to get foggy, its only focus the pulsing between your thighs. It’s been a while since you’ve been awake for the start of your heat. The last one had started in your sleep, and the one before that you had been sedated by the CIA, closely monitored and put under before the itching even began under your skin. 
Your trembling fingers fumble with one of the electrolyte drinks on your nightstand, struggling to wrap around it and then get the cap off. It does little to soothe the dryness in your mouth, but you drink as much of it as you can. 
The door opens, Kyle slipping through before quickly closing it behind him. He approaches the bed, that sympathetic look in his eyes again. He’s not sure what to say, you can tell by his hesitance, but what is there to say in this moment? ‘Good luck, hope John doesn’t accidentally hurt you?’ 
You don’t blame him for his silence, though you know his beta is agitated, wanting to offer you comfort and support, but he can’t. He can’t do much for you this time, only your alpha can. 
Kyle bends down, picking up your phone and book from the floor before checking the charge on your phone. He sets it down on the nightstand, pulling another from his pocket and placing it down next to yours. It’s John’s personal phone. You recognize the familiar olive green case. Kyle will alternate charging them, mostly for John’s peace of mind. Not that he’ll care much about potential calls or messages while he’s knotted inside of you. 
“You’ll be okay.” Kyle says, brushing the wisps of hair stuck to your forehead back. Johnny had braided it last night, his final act of comfort before retreating with Simon to their own quarantined space. Kyle must have noted the nervous edges in your scent still lingering in the air as he tries to comfort you. 
You hold his hand against your face, nuzzling your cheek against his rough palm. It’s not quite enough, he’s not quite enough, but it’s no fault of his own. Your instincts are beginning to take over. The desire for an alpha, your alpha, to help you is overtaking any rational thought. 
Kyle strokes your cheek for a moment before he pulls away, taking the bottle from your trembling hands and tossing it in the trash. He folds your blanket and drapes it over the footboard before setting your book on your desk. 
“John knows.” He says, standing close to the door. “He’ll be in soon.” 
All you can do is nod as you rub your thighs together, trying to get any ounce of friction you can. The fabric of the shirt you’re wearing is like a million tiny knives against your skin, but your hands are useless as they tug at the fabric. You can’t get your body to work enough to pull it off. 
A pathetic whine leaves your lips as the door opens again. You’re still tugging at your shirt, writhing in your attempts to both remove the offending fabric from your skin and also get some relief for the pulsing between your thighs. 
“Alpha...” You whine, vision zeroing in on your alpha as he stands there, staring at you with dark eyes. 
“Look at you.” He rasps, taking slow steps closer and closer to you. 
Another whine falls from your lips as you reach out for him, desperate to feel him against you, like his very touch could ease the fire burning beneath your skin. Your arm is shaking by the time he reaches you, his fingers brushing against your hand. A content purr rumbles in your chest as he finally touches you, rough fingers tracing your palm before continuing down the inside of your arm. A shiver shakes your body at the feeling of his rough calluses against your sensitive skin. You wish those fingers would go elsewhere, your mouth watering at the thought of them between your thighs again. 
“Alpha,” You whine again as he grips your upper arm, yanking you up. 
In one fluid motion he sits on your bed, tugging your body onto his lap. His arms wrap around you, holding you against him, your slick dribbling onto the front of his pants. A quiet sound rumbles in his chest, his pupils dilating as his alpha begins to come out, his alpha responding to the thick scent of your pheromones in the room. 
You press against him, but it’s not enough. You need to feel him, his skin against yours, the prickling of the hair on his chest against your sensitive skin. His hands trail up your sides, the drag of the fabric of your shirt against your skin making you whine. You need to feel him, not the synthetic material separating you. He slides his hands all the way up, skirting past your breasts and sensitive nipples to grip the neck of the shirt, ripping it down the center. 
Your omega purrs happily at the display of strength, a quiet sigh leaving your lips as he pushes the shirt from your shoulders, freeing you from the overwhelming sensation. His hands flatten against your back, a content purr leaving your lips at the feeling of his skin against yours. You arch into him, pressing your hips against the prominent bulge in his pants. Your fingers tug at his own shirt, but you lack the strength to tear it off him, even as you paw at the fabric. You likely wouldn’t have been able to anyway outside the throes of your heat. 
“Needy little thing.” He purrs, nipping at your bottom lip. 
You chase his lips, kissing him harshly. His fingers dig into your back as you push your tongue into his mouth, licking at his own tongue. Your thighs clench around his hips at the thought of that tongue between your legs, more slick soaking the front of his pants as it gushes out of you. 
His hands slide down to grip your hips, dragging your slit along the front of his jeans. You moan at the delicious friction, pulling away from his mouth to kiss down his throat. His beard tickles your skin as he tilts his head, bearing his throat to you. A low growl rumbles through your chest as he allows himself to be in such a vulnerable position. You’re shaking in his arms as he guides your hips to grind against his pants, legs clenching around his hips. You’re close, the pulsing beneath your veins getting stronger and stronger. 
“Gonna cum like this?” He growls, his grip almost bruising on your hips. “Without me even touching you? Make yourself cum and I’ll give you what you need.” 
Your heat-addled brain somehow comprehends his words, picking out the parts it needs as you shift on his lap, dragging your clit against the seam of his jeans. Your face presses against his throat, devouring his scent straight from the source. It goes right to your head, the earthy scent nearly indistinguishable from the musk of his rut. 
Your body shudders as your first orgasm rocks you, slick gushing out of you like a tidal wave. You sink your teeth into his shoulder, fingers digging into his skin. 
“Son of a-” He curses, delivering a harsh slap to your bare ass. “Fuckin’ naughty little omega.” 
You grin, lapping at the teeth marks you’ve left on his skin as you press your ass into his hand. Your orgasm has provided a little relief, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. Not until you have his knot inside you. 
You tug at his shirt again, bunching the fabric in your hands. “Off.” You whine, desperate to feel his skin against yours. 
He finally acquiesces, pushing you back far enough to tug his shirt off. Drool drips down your chin as you stare at the skin now exposed to you. You can’t help yourself as you lean forward, licking your way across his collarbones and his chest. You slide off his lap, kneeling between his legs as you lick your way down his chest, dragging your tongue across his soft stomach. 
He grips the back of your neck, pulling you away from his skin. Your tongue is still sticking out, almost like it’s trying to taste every last bit of him that might be in the air. “Fuck.” He groans, pushing you back as he moves to stand. 
You grab his hand before he can fully stand, tugging with surprising strength. He falls into you, both of you falling back onto the floor in a mess of limbs. Your omega scratches in the back of your brain, your gaze sharpening as you wrestle with him, finally managing to pin him on the floor. 
His eyes are almost black, a dangerous growl rumbling in his chest. Slick dribbles out of you, smearing on his stomach as you return his growl, baring your teeth at him. You want him to submit, you need him to submit to you. Your omega doesn't care about the obvious challenge, the stupidity of trying to control a rutting alpha. 
Yet, he goes lax beneath you, his gaze still sharp and cautious as he stares at you. 
Your growl softens into a purr as he relaxes, submitting to you for a moment. You bend down again, your tongue flattening against his skin once more. Your eyes are locked on his as you lick the beading sweat on his chest, purring at the saltiness of it on your tongue. You continue your way down his body, following the path down his chest and across his stomach. His eyes leave yours, watching the wiggle of your bare ass as you crawl backwards, continuing to lick across his stomach until you reach the puddle of shiny slick streaked across his skin. 
He lets out a rumbling purr as you lap at your own slick. It’s sweet from your pheromones, yet there’s the familiar tang of your natural taste on your tongue as you clean the mess you’ve made on your alpha’s skin. 
As soon as you deem his skin clean enough you continue downward, licking at the waistband of his jeans. Your fingers are shaking as you paw at his pants, trying to get your fingers to work to remove the last barrier between you. You need your alpha’s cock, you need to see it, to taste it. Your mouth is watering as you fumble helplessly, unable to handle such fine motor skills when all your brain is screaming to do is fuck. 
He pushes your hands out of the way, undoing his pants easily. He wiggles them down enough until his cock has sprung free, heavy and almost throbbing on his stomach. You stare at it wide eyed, drool slipping down your chin as you stare at it. You need it, you need his knot now, the burning under your skin intensifying from how close you are to finally getting what you need. You wrap your hand around his heavy length, the tip already leaking as you lean down, dragging your tongue from his balls to the tip. He lets out a groan as you close your lips around the head, flicking your tongue across his slit. 
You hold his gaze, dragging your tongue across his head once more before lifting yourself and shifting over his hips. You hold his gaze as you drag his cock through your folds, your needy brain searching for the spot you need. You let out a whine as you find it, his head catching on your entrance. You don’t hesitate, a long, desperate sounding whine falling from your lips as you sink down onto his length. 
It goes in easily, your body opening to him eagerly, your slick aiding the process as it gushes down the length of his cock. You make it halfway before pausing, breathing for a moment before you sink the rest of the way down. 
Your pussy flutters around him, a whimper leaving your lips. You could cum just like this, just from the stretch of his cock inside of you. It’s still not enough, it’s still not what you need, but it does ease the ache throbbing in your pelvis. 
He lays there, eyes hooded as he watches you, content to let yourself use him in your needy state for now. Your hands press against his stomach as he sinks almost impossibly deep inside you, your hips settling against his. He reaches up, pressing against the bulge in your pelvis, your hips jerking at the shock of pleasure that thrums through you. 
He lets out a pleased rumble as you squeeze around him, slick dribbling out around the base of his cock. “Be a good omega, take what you need.” He commands, his alpha rough around the edges of his voice. 
Your hands press firmly against his stomach, using him for leverage as you begin to move, lifting your hips and then letting them drop. Quiet whimpers leave your lips with every movement as his cock drags along your walls. The ache in your bones is finally starting to ease, the burning itch beneath your skin fading. You rock on your alpha’s cock, using his body for your pleasure as he lays there, content to watch you. 
The low rumble in his chest vibrates through you, inaudible under your desperate whines and the squelch of your pussy on his cock, but you can feel it in your hands, your subconscious picking up on it in a way you can’t understand. It only adds to the pleasure coursing through you, your clit throbbing from the friction against his jeans earlier. 
You’re tired, your legs shaking as you begin to slow down. The need pulsing through you is strong, but your heat-addled body is not. You whine desperately as you grind on his cock, seeking out any sort of pleasure you can get as your legs give out, too exhausted and weak to continue. 
“What’s the matter?” John says, lips pulling up in a smirk. “Poor little omega getting tired? Can’t fuck herself on my cock anymore?” 
“Please...” You whine, nearly crying in desperation. “Need your knot alpha.” 
“Then take it.” He says, not making any move to help you. 
“Can’t,” You whine. “Need you to do it. Need you to take care of me.” 
He lets out a growl at your confession, his hands finally moving to your hips. He pulls you off of his cock, flipping you around so you’re on your knees, upper body pressed against the floor. You push your ass up as high as you can for him, presenting for your alpha. He lets out a pleased rumble, his fingers dragging through your slick coated slit. You whine needily, pushing back against his hand. 
“Easy.” He says, pressing close behind you. “Alpha’s got you.” 
Your eyes nearly roll back as he sinks into you again, the change in position nearly making you see stars as he begins fucking in you, the snap of his hips against yours rocking your body on the carpet. Your knees burn but you can hardly feel it as he fucks you through an orgasm, your walls clenching desperately around his cock. Your brain is going hazy again as you feel the swelling at the base of his cock pushing up against your entrance, drool pooling on the carpet beneath you as you wait for it, wait for him to push his knot inside you and tie the two of you together. 
“Alpha...alpha...” You chant the title like a mantra, the sounds slurring together as you push back against him. 
“Take it,” He grunts, his fingers digging into your hips as he holds you steady in place. He pushes against you, his knot stretching your pussy as he begins pushing it into you. “Take it...good girl.” 
You whine as his knot pops into place, your body shuddering with another orgasm from the gaping stretch around him. He grinds his hips against you, his knot tugging at the entrance of your pussy as you clench tightly around him. He cums with a groan, his body falling over yours as he spurts his seed into you. You lay there, whining and panting beneath him, sweat still dripping down your back. 
Your brain is starting to float away, your mind going hazy again, but you’re not fighting it this time. You’re giving into your instincts, unable to do anything but submit to them, submit to your alpha. 
“I’ve got you.” Price says softly, gently brushing the sweaty strands of hair from your face that have fallen loose from your braid. 
You give into the haze, trusting him to take care of you. 
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You’re not sure when you moved to the bed. It’s the crackle of the mattress protector that’s pulled you from your haze for a moment. One of those rare moments of clarity post-knot as you come back into your brain enough to be semi-aware of your surroundings. You won’t remember it by the time you come out of your heat, lost in the mush of hazy memories from the week. 
Your pussy is pulsing around John’s knot, his chest pressed into your back. You still feel hot, feverish as you lay there half out of it. John’s right arm is under you, wrapped around so his hand is against your chest. He’s holding the cap of an electrolyte bottle in his right hand, the plastic cool against your heated skin. 
There’s hands moving in front of you, pulling a charging cord from one phone to put it in the other. There’s voices, but you’re too far in the haze to understand what they’re saying. There’s a scent in the air, clearer and softer than the heavy musk that’s settled in the room. It goes straight to your head, nearly making you black out again. You want to taste it, your tongue darting out to lick your lips. 
Your hand shoots out, surprising even you with how fast it’s moved. Your brain feels slow as it tries to catch up with the movement, your fingers wrapped around someone’s wrist. Your hand has a mind of its own as it pulls the wrist closer, pressing it against your face. 
A soft, fresh scent fills your nose, your eyes fluttering as it pulses through you, your pussy convulsing around John’s knot. He groans behind you, his hips shifting just slightly in response. Your tongue darts out, licking at the wrist pressed against your face, trying to taste the scent. 
Salty, briney, fresh. The sea, you remember from the haze in your mind. It smells like the sea. You continue to lick it, wanting it to consume you, to sink into your brain and ease the aching need. 
“Careful, love.” A soft voice says, cutting through the scent-induced haze you’re in. 
The attached body tries to pull the wrist in your grip away, but you let out a whine, fingers tightening around it as you pull it closer. You drag your tongue against the skin again, letting out a quiet whine. You need it, your hand trembling around his wrist. 
The word feels heavy on your tongue, your heat-addled, scent drunk brain trying to form it on your lips, pushing it from your mind until it vibrates in the air audibly. The process feels like it takes minutes, when in reality it was likely only seconds. You tug on the wrist again, trying to bring the source closer. 
“Stay.” 
NEXT ->
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@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @protokosmonaut
@fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites
@kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos
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@red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving
@slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01
@heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006
@sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164
@mirzamsaiph @xlxnq @chickennn-soupp
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littlelamy · 27 days
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rafe x reader ; the one where you take a bath with rafe
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𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼𖡼.𖤣
It was a friday night, and instead of indulging in his usual activities rafe decided to stay in with his princess. he might have been a bit annoyed about skipping his usual run to barry for some powder, but he knew his girl needed some attention tonight.
“y/n, baby, come get in the water before it gets too cold,” rafe called out, his voice smooth and tempting. he was already lowering his naked body into the warm water, the steam rising around him. “and bring a towel with you. you left mine soaking wet the last time you showered,” he added, his tone a mix of annoyance and amusement.
you could hear rafe’s impatience in his voice, but it only made you hum in playful defiance as you peeled off your clothes. you tossed them into the hamper, grabbing two neatly folded monogrammed towels with a big ‘R’ and ‘Cameron’ embroidered on them.
“rafey, these towels are so cute,” you giggled, admiring the stitching. “my mom has monogrammed towels too, but she thinks they’re too cheap—she prefers the family crest.”
rafe rolled his eyes at your random comparison. "didn’t I tell you to hurry up?" he said, his voice dripping with impatience, though you could hear the underlying desire.
as you turned the corner, rafe’s frustration melted away when he caught sight of you, your naked body illuminated by the soft light. his eyes roamed over every curve, and he couldn’t help the slow, appreciative smile that spread across his face. “i sure know how to pick ’em,” he chuckled, watching as you approached.
you grinned at his comment, but as you reached for his outstretched hands and slipped into the warm water, you shot him a warning look. "no funny business, mister," you said with mock sternness, though the way your body melted into his embrace suggested you didn’t mind his touch as much as you let on.
rafe pulled you against his bare chest, his arms wrapping around you possessively. "we’ll see," he murmured into your ear, his voice low and teasing. his breath was warm on your skin, sending shivers down your spine despite the heat of the bath.
you sighed contently, leaning back into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back. "we can do something later, but right now, i just want to relax," you whispered, closing your eyes as you let the warmth of the water and the comfort of his body wash over you.
rafe’s hands began to wander, slowly and deliberately, tracing the lines of your body under the water. his lips brushed against your ear, his voice husky as he whispered, "who says we can’t relax and have a little fun at the same time?"
a soft laugh escaped your lips as you squirmed slightly in his grasp, trying to maintain your resolve. but with every touch, every whispered word, you felt your resistance crumbling. you bit your lip, considering his proposition, feeling the heat of his body against yours, the water lapping around you both.
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alexjcrowley · 1 year
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Watching Punch-Drunk Love and I'll be honest Adam Sandler should be able to never ever get to see his sisters again
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danothan · 2 years
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had an 8hr superhero call with @bebagerie and they drew my barry?? easily i could cry
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