#things that will pull my out of my hidey hole

[bloodofgrapes]

May I ask what your top tips for appearing more masc are prior to hrt? No matter how basic, I want to hear them (im desperate) (esp voice-wise)

Well anon, as with all things, your mileage will vary. Are you looking to be fully stealth/cis passing? Do you want to simply feel more masculine? Think about what you really and truly want, not what your friends or society or anything else may tell you, but what YOU specifically would enjoy doing. There is no one way to be masculine, and what works for me may not work for someone else.

With all of that out of the way though, here are a few things that helped me specifically. I'm stealth in real life, and I prefer to be... more or less conventionally masculine. My partner put it aptly: "you look like a boring office worker."

Take fashion advice from cis men/cis oriented groups. No offense to my fellow trans masc/trans men, but taking fashion advice from them is often a case of the blind leading the blind, at least if your goal is to be cis passing. You can dress well and look presentable (I certainly do), but don't put male fashion on a pedestal, because even the best dressed cis men don't--this is just what they're familiar with and they're going about their day the same way you are.

Clothes can get you a good portion of the way there, because I was functionally stealth even prior to starting testosterone (though I will confess a large amount of genetic luck), but if you dress and act with confidence, most people won't put much more thought to you than what is immediately apparent.

Your hair will also massively help you: men tend to favor fairly plain and boring cuts. A traditional cut will help you look more masculine than anything that requires a blow dryer and copious amounts of gel. I'm a boring (and lazy) person, so this suits me just fine, but I know this can get dull really quick to a lot of people, but that's just the way it is. That said, always, ALWAYS get your sideburns and nape squared off rather than tapered, I swear it's like the only irl cheat code for masculinity. The little details are usually what count the most.

On voice, you're in luck. Far too much emphasis is put on having a deep baritone that would put James Earl Jones to shame. You don't need a deep voice to sound like a man, but you do need to consciously keep your speech patterns and the way you speak in mind. Pay attention to the cis men around you, not what you see in media--most of them really don't have voices that are particularly deep. But you'll notice that they don't pitch their voices and inflect the way that women are typically taught to. This has nothing to do with genes, these are purely social skills, and while it's a pain, they can very much be learned by anybody who works at it. Cis men tend to speak much more flatly and bluntly, and use fewer words to get their meaning across (which is a good skill to have no matter your gender, in my opinion). When I put on my Woman Voice™, it's not so much that I speak in a higher pitch (though I do), but that I draw out my words and speak a little more theatrically. A simple "hey, how are you doing?" becomes "Hiiii, it's SO good to see you again, how have you been!"

That's a pretty stark difference! And again, this is just what works for me. I have not cut out any parts of my personality or toned down who I am, not least of all because I'm a pretty flat and monotone person to begin with, but I do restrain certain aspects of how I present myself, particularly with people I'm not close to.

I'm sorry that this is a long winded way to say "dress appropriately, get a decent haircut, and flatten down the way you speak", but I do try to be cognizant of the fact that you can feel and present masculinely in more ways than there are grains of sand on earth. All of the above are things that help me feel better and more comfortable in my own skin, and are not necessarily what I would prescribe other people to do to feel right in theirs. Only you can know what works best for you, which is why I prefaced this with advising you to think long and hard about what would make you happy and comfortable.

That said, if any of the above appeals to you, do a little research. I enjoy browsing Reddit's Male Fashion Advice sub, not least of all because you see an enormous range of fashion that goes beyond t shirts and jeans. Look for men that have face shapes similar to yours to see what kind of haircuts flatter them, and study the way that the men in your life speak, gesticulate, and generally act. Study them like they are animals in a zoo and it's your life mission to document them, and you'll pick up a lot. I hope this helps!

[banj0possum]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO MORE TERATO WITH ZOMBIES?? /NF

YOUR WRITING IS SO GOOD ABD TASTY, possibly a trans male reader who hasn’t gotten surgery yet? DONT KNOW IF THATS AGAINST BOUNDRUES

Smut pls😊

*sniff sniff* thnank yuou

Zombie Horde with a FtM reader Who Hasn't Gotten Top Surgery Yet

CW: Smut, a bit of fluff, FtM reader w/o top surgery, chest touching???

💀 To be honest, they wouldn't care

💀 You'd normally use bandages or old binders because transitional surgery wasn't an option when you were busy making sure your bunker was safe, your food stock was full and so on. Sure you wished you'd gotten one sooner before the virus but there are more important things...

💀 You were in your hidey hole without anything binding your when Soda came in looking for you.

💀 He went to cuddle next to you when he felt something soft and squishy, he tilted his head and poked at your chest which made you yelp.

💀 His little mate has squishy parts in the chest? he doesn't remember that, he's confused as he's never noticed you with any squishy bits in that area, in fact, you always had some kind of armor or something for some reason, were they organs spilling out? Now he can't have that! Humans need those he thinks!

💀 He chitters worryingly, trying to pull up your shirt to help you push back in your organs, but you kept pushing him away.

💀 He eventually gestured to parts of his body that showed his rotten body making a pushing in movement, you let out a long ooohhhhh and assure him it's not that.

💀 You explain to him (to a degree) and he explains it to the others.

💀 Bo thinks he remembers seeing bandages on others because they're hurt so the first time you show him, he's all over you comforting you so his little mate won't be sad that they got hurt. He is very much blaming himself, but Soda quickly explains you're not hurt at all.

💀 They start looking for bandages, binders, sports bras, compression wear, anything that looks like what you usually wear.

💀 Screw has a bunch of things he's hoarded so he goes through his pile looking for clothes and the sort that he think's you'd like.

💀 Ribs has the guilty pleasure of burying his face in your chest. You're just so warm and soft and squishy!!!

💀 If you ever feel gender dysphoria and body dysmorphia, they'll sense you feeling a bit under the weather and love on you so much you'll forget all about it. Don't be sad, you're perfect!

💀 If you ever do get top surgery, maybe from travelling to a large community of survivors or other, they wouldn't change their feelings towards you.

💀 They's be curious about your scars though, Bo would be furious thinking they hurt you or ate your squishy bits or something.

💀 Screw is feeling your chest now feeling the new flat texture of your chest.

💀 Ribs does the same because they're best friends a- OH MY GOD YOU HAVE RIBS TOO?!?!?

💀 Soda is all over you seeing if you're ok. Did they feed you enough? Does it hurt? Do you need us to give you some love? Did you miss us?

💀 Can Ribs have all your old bandages and binders?

💀 If you have boundaries regarding your chest area, they will steer away from it, anyway, you have the rest of your lovely body for them to devour.

💀 If you don't, they'd be massaging your chest, cooing oh so softly reminding you that you're theirs whether you have surgery or not.

[futureplayboibunnie]

Mistakes

Miguel O’Hara x spidey!fem! reader

Will Miguel let you in?

Miguel angst is MY thing fr, this is another self serve fic tbh. GOD i love this one, he’s so damaged and broken like fr we can fix him. I’ll probably do a part 2 bc writing this had be squealling

it’s been a hot minute. i’m on holiday for a month and i genuinely used my phone for this one. giggles

Miguel honestly felt like a ghost story as of late. He had been hiding out in his mancave a lot longer than what was deemed usual by the others and no one really had the incentive to find out what the hell he was doing and why the hell he wasn’t leaving.

More like no one wanted to have their spinal chord ripped out and dangling in front of them.

Miguel was as complicated as ever, his aggression seemed to be boundless and his drive a never ending abundance of determination. Though he was admirable as a leader, he was almost impossible to see through. It was his knack. His ge ne sais quois. He was a calloused man, haunted by demons he couldn’t escape- not because he wanted to, but because he would lose the last memory he had when he was genuinely happy. And that was with his daughter. Who he lost. Who he was responsible for losing. It had been almost a month since anyone had seen him. It was most definitely a period of self isolation for him, but it had been too long for the other spiders without a leader. They needed him, so did you.

It was bothering you now, what the hell was he up to? Did brooding really cost this much time? It seemed either ridiculous or…unsettling. You didn’t know which one you prefered. Day after day or constant wondering sent your mind spinning frok fraction to fraction: all you could do was wonder, be slightly irritated and…concerned about him all at once. Miguel was always on time, always prepared and valued hypervigilance and attentiveness…so why wasn’t he following his own moral code?

You told Gwen that you should check on him to make sure he was still fucking alive. She heavily disagreed with the idea but even Jess didn’t know what had gotten into him. Unlucky for them, they didn’t know the secret spot into his lair you find the first day of getting into the Society. The tour of HQ was quite enlightening, the amount of hidey holes were insane. Your heart was racing at the idea of visiting him unannounced, but you hated this and it was getting frustrating. Hell, you weren’t scared of him and you made it very known to him.

You decided to go late at night when no one else was at HQ. Jesus, if he was still here at 3 in the morning then he really was reeling… and no-one was there to pull him back from the unending void. Miguel’s hidey hole was on his ceiling so you quite literally had crawl through his vents which was very humbling and quite a blow to your blossoming ego. After that embarrassment, you were irked and already impatient. He better have a damn good reason for being like this.

Your crawled out of the vent at let your adhesive fingers crawl around the shadows of his cool, airy lair. Your eyes scanned around, it seemed void of any personality, no personal effects or anythint tying him back to his humanity. It wasn’t surprising but…saddening. You crawled further down the wall to get a closer look. It was a mess: broken tech, metal pieces, vials and serums stewn over the floor like it was just collected dust that just happened to land there. You tilted your head even more- there were weights and water bottles everywhere, he must have been extensively working out…or physically pushing himself as punishment. What really caught onto you though was the many monitors that were indented with a fist…his fist. Your mood soured at the latter. Turning your head to his platform, you finally found him, standing snd staring at his orange screens blankly, breathing heavily. His back tense and his gaze weary as he watched the last good memory he had with his daughter play out on his screen. In this light you could see the illumination on his cheeks. He’d been crying. The thought alone made you freeze. The portrait of the Miguel you knew was crumbling between your fingers, as you glanced at the screen you saw him happy, smiling. You weren’t sure if he’s done that ever since then.

You crawled out of the shadows, inching further and further down the wall next to the platform, wanting to make your presence known. When was the last time anyone comforted this man? When was the last time he wasn’t filled with grief and anger?

“Miguel?” You say softly as not to startle him, but with his lack of Spider senses he definitely was startled. He jumped and grabbed a broken monitor and threw it at you, it didn’t take much to dodge him but a look of concern painted your face.

“H-How did you get in?” He bellowed but you just hopped off the wall and onto his platform, not giving him the time of day to adjust himself to the fright you have him.

He definitely was working out again, he was bigger since you last saw him…but face to face, he seemed so deliriously exhausted.

“That’s not important right now.” You responded nonchalantly but oddly seriously at the same time.

“Why are you here?” Miguel eyes were gleaming red, he had a particularly awful few days, weeks, he didn’t need to see the horror of another face seeing who he really was. His nostrils flared as you acted so careless, who the hell did you think you were?

Your back leaned against his desk as you paused for a moment, not sure if you wanted to be truthful or not. “I wanted to see you.” You say sincerely and Miguel shot you a perplexed look. No one saw him for the sole purpose of just seeing him, not that he can recall anyways. “You aren’t the easiest person to get a hold of right now.” You raised your eyebrow at him.

“I don’t want to be.” He grunted truthfully, averting his gaze away from you before turning into the snarky Spiderman he’s known to be. “But yeah, adorable. Really, really interesting, very cute. I was going to say fuck off and leave instead but yes, this is worth my time.” He bit back sarcastically. Anger was running through your veins at his response. God, he was such an ass sometime and he needed to know but instead you did the thing you were sure to regret later: being kind to him when he was like this. You took a deep breath to regain a cool and sentient composure.

“Look, I know you’re going through a lot right now so I’m going to disregard that.”

“I don’t want you here.” Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose and fell back into his chair, completely finished with all of this.

“Well tough shit.” You glared at him, sighing and then offering a sympathetic smile.

Miguel didn’t say anything, he knew a battle with you would pour salt into the wound and prove to be fruitless. So you both sat in silence and observing each other’s purpose. The tension between you both was palpable, so you decided to test the risky waters.

“How old was Gabriella?” You say gently, giving him a trusting look. If only you could get him to open up, the panic and anxiety would start to decrease if he just talked about all of this to someone who cared about him. As much as you hated to admit it, you did.

Miguel’s face froze as you asked him that, he wasn’t sure whether to lunge at you or not by asking him such a thing. He was too tired to argue or fight, he didn’t have it in him anymore. He was breaking and he didn’t want it to be infront of you.

“Nine.” He mumbled, staring away from you as if he was ashamed. “When I lost her…she was nine.” A sliver of sadness fell through you at the sentiment. It’s a new feeling for Miguel, someone actually having the guts to ask him these things. His suspicious look starts to turn into a frown, a mixture of anger and sadness. He didn’t know what to feel.

“I know I don’t matter at all in this situation, but it’s not your fault and you deserve forgiveness.” You say sincerely, surprising both him and yourself.

Miguel felt like he had just seen a ghost, his heart felt slow as the cave of despair started to ache again, he felt like he was being suffocated. Forgiveness? He didn’t deserve any forgiveness. Not after the damage he had done. Not after the pain he inflicted. It clawed at his throat until his breath was perpetually scarce.

“Forgiveness…” He scoffed, completely dismissing the idea. “I don’t- I can’t take your forgiveness. I’m not worthy of it…” He trailed off, the lump in his throat becoming bigger and bigger.

“You work yourself too hard.” You mutter, inching closer to him, staring down at him you raise your hand reaching out for him but he grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t pity me.” He grunted and gripped tighter but you snatched your hand away with a scowl.

“I’m not pitying you. You just…You look exhausted. When was the last time you went home? Jesus, when was the last time you slept?” You ask, genuinely curious. Miguel didn’t know how to answer the question without being slightly embarrassed.

“I have nothing there. I’m needed here.” His tone was clipped and all you could do was sigh.

“Miguel…please tell me, tell me what you’re thinking. Tell me so I can help you.” You say a little more firmly than intended but it definitely got the point across. “I want to help you if you let me.”

Miguel looks at you and sighs, seeming to deflate slightly. “My mind is filled with a never ending list of tasks to complete, a never ending list of dangers to face and battles to fight, a never ending list of problems to solve... I... I don't have much peace." He rubs at his temples. “But you've already seen that, I guess.... I'm not sure how you can help me with any of this." He sighed and winced slightly when he thought of Gabriella. “All I ever wanted was a family, to be happy. Meet a nice girl, have a few kids and settle down…but I love being Spiderman and I tampered with something I had no reason to be messing with. I can’t be both. I can’t have both. Shit as for love, I don’t think I can ever get close to another woman again. I can’t lose anyone else. The last thing I need right now is a lecture about love.”

You give him a small wry smile, your hands reach forward and tuck a small tuft of hair behind his ear. Miguel froze at the small gesture of kindess and tenderness, he hadn’t felt that in so long, he hated he way he was reacting to it. You didn’t know what else to do or say, you just knew what you wanted right now. You leaned down and engulfed him in a hug, your face resting on his shoulder and your arms slung around his neck. His eyes shot wide open at the sudden gesture. He was close enough to inhale your hair and feel your skin, he hugged you back and breathed in and out, finding a semblance of peace, a moment where his mind wasn’t filled with static noise and self loathing. Your scent was…sweet and completely intoxicating if he was being honest. ‘’Thank you…” He muttered into your shoulder.

You let go and stand up straight again, offering a hand so he can stand too. You were suprised that be took it and you were more surprised to feel that his hands were…soft. “Let me take you home. I’ll make you some tea, get you to relax, yeah?” You offer gently with a little smile, hoping he would let you do this for him.

Miguel's eyes widened at your suggestion and he stared at you with hope for a moment. “Why? Why are you doing all this?” he asked. He rarely spent time with anyone outside of work. Why would you even do any of this for him?

“Because you’ve done so much for everyone else and no one has ever taken care of you. God forbid someone wants to help you and all of a sudden theres this hidden agenda.”

The realisation dawned on him, when has he let anyone get close to him? Never. Now a pretty girl wanted to take care of him, listen to his problems and make him feel deserving of the forgiveness he dreamed of. Miguel wasn’t sure if it was a delusion or crazy dream or not but he was relieved to take in your sweet scent. Maybe you had an ulterior motive, the thought made him frown. He hated feeling vulnerable and showing any kind of vulnerability was out of the question.

“I’m not leaving you tonight. Okay?” You confirm sweetly, knocking all of the air out of his lungs. He felt a strange sense of security, he felt…safe at the idea. “Come on.” You fiddled with your multiverse watch and opened a portal to his apartment, you grabbed onto his bicep and pulled him in, landing in the living room.

Jesus, it looked like it hasn’t even been lived in. Everything was clean, too clean. “Nice place.” You half joked and Miguel just shot you a smile that he was trying to conceal, it didn’t really work. Miguel felt his neck heat up, when people got to know him he was actually really shy. He sat himself on the edge of the couch, planting his elbows on his knees and raking his hands through his hair. His kitchen was walk in, expensive. As you were brewing his tea, you caught glimpses of his back, he really had been working out. You stop your mindless gawk and find his mugs and place a tea bag in two of them, you also search for his whiskey. As you poured the hot water, you splashed a little bit of whiskey. God knows he deserved it.

You walked around to couch and Miguel’s head shot up as you stood infront of him, offering him the mug. As you stood, he took an opportunity to really look at you. To survey and study you. You were…attractive, that he had no problem admitting but this…This was a new side of you he had never seen. You were showing him kindness when he didn’t even deserve it. Miguel winced slightly at the idea of letting another woman into his life, the last time that happened he lost everything, he was still weary of your intentions.

He grabbed the mug and you sat next to him, curling your feet up and facing him, gawking at him more like as you sipped your tea. This scene felt…very domestic. “Thank you…” He said, not showing any emotion, being stoic as expected.

“God stop thanking me. It’s the least I could do.” You said with a shy smile.

“It’s just…different. No one has really- Well, I haven’t been looking after myself.” He muttered

“When was the last time anyone looked out for you?” You ask, genuinely curious. He had the whole world at his feet, yet it was like he was lonely.

“Years ago, my brother Gabriel…I don’t really see him much…” It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it, but he missed his brother, he hadn’t seen him in a while. While you were in the kitchen, you saw a frame of him and his brother when they were about teenagers, playing. It warmed your heart slightly to see that he did actually care.

“You can’t let the mistakes in your past define you. It’s not who you are. Bad people don’t worry about the pain they caused. You are good.” Miguel took a moment to ponder your words, averting his gaze and then turning his head to face you.

“No you’re good.” He said gently. “It’s like being good is all you know…I’ve lost myself beneath violence and blood and chaos-“ Miguel sighed as he put the mug down on the coffee table, losing his cool for a second.

“Hey,” You grabbed onto his bicep and he shot you a startled yet curious look. “Do you trust me?”

Miguel paused, he didn’t trust people easily but after you so patiently listened to him and did all of this for him, he couldn’t say no to you. “Yeah…”

“Turn around.” Miguel did as he was told, a little confused at first, but his back was facing you. You brought your hands to his shoulders and kneaded his tense muscles. God, he was so rigid. It’s like he had never relaxed in his life. “These broad shoulders must be so exhausted.”

“Yeah…” Miguel closed his eyes, revelling in the feeling of your fingers gently caressing him. Jesus, his body was coming undone with just a few touches. Your fingers pressed and massaged his sore muscles, travelling further and further down his back.

“Is this okay?” You whisper.

Miguel let out a deep sigh, his muscles loosening under your touch. “Yes...keep going please.” Miguel's voice was still quiet but clear, and he even let out a soft groan of relief.

You travel lower, caressing and massaging the pressure points of all his soreness. “God, there’s so many knots in your back…when was the last time anyone did this for you?” You question eagerly.

Miguel closed his eyes. “...never,” he replied, his voice slightly breathy. “No one has ever..." Miguel paused. “These days no one has ever cared enough or been allowed to be so...intimate with me.” He was caught off guard by what he said. He just screwed his eyes shut and let out a deep sigh. Your presence and your soft caresses calmed his mind to his very core and relaxed his body. You noticed that Miguel, who usually always carried himself with professionalism and control...was now like a deer in headlights, unable to comprehend your touch.

You stop your actions for a moment to contemplate what he said, he’s so touch starved, he hasn’t felt the warmth of anyone else in so long. It surprised you to an immeasurable degree, women must throw themselves at him. Instead you just wrapped your arms around him from behind, nuzzling your face into his neck to take in his scent once more. Miguel was stunned into silence, you were so surprising, so understanding of how he gets, how he lets himself go. He wasn’t sure whether to cry or not, you slung your arms against his neck and all he could do is grab your hand and kiss your palm. He didn’t know how to thank you. He swore he would never get close to another woman ever again but here he was, broken down and completely at the mercy of you. He could kiss you…but then he would shatter the promise he made to himself. He would be vulnerable all over again, he’d mess it up again. What kind of idiot would he be if he didn’t learn from his past mistakes? His worst mistake? But your scent, your presence, you were just so damn inviting. God, he was a man after all… but would making you his ruin you?

[brandyllyn]

Silk from their soul (11)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: Explicit (PIV, choking) Words: 2.2k Summary: Hidey-Hole

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

Were you supposed to look him in the eye now?

You’d fallen into a deep sleep almost immediately after that earth-shattering orgasm and woken on the ground by yourself, a pack under your head for a pillow while he sat a few feet away and watched the wasteland. He hadn’t commented on the events of the night before, just given you a sly grin and asked you to put on something for breakfast since you’d slept through your watch.

Never mind he didn’t wake you for it.

You finally seem to be heading north, towards the mountains. You have a vague memory of traveling through here before.

“Do you think it’s better to try to find the old road or just head up?”

He’s walking a few feet ahead of you and doesn’t stop when he answers. “Lotta raiders on the roads, we’ll be better off cross-country.”

That made sense. It was a perfectly normal thing to say. Just two people walking companionably together.

It was going to drive you bonkers.

“Hey Cowboy,” you shout, taking a few running steps to catch up with him. He turns as you fall into step, his blank look almost making you falter. But you steel yourself and give him a winning smile. “Do we need to talk? Or not talk, maybe, but acknowledge? What happened?”

“You mean when I had my fingers in your cunt?”

Well, okay, that was one way of putting it.

“Don’t figure there’s much to talk about. You liked it?”

“Yes,” you say quickly.

“Wanna do it again?”

“Now?”

Your spluttering question puts a grin on his face and he makes a show of looking around. You’re in what used to be some sort of rest stop, several different buildings still mostly standing.

“Well, I wasn’t thinking right this minute but a fella could be convinced-”

A roar rends the air between you and you both freeze. You wait for him to verify what you really hope isn’t true.

“Deathclaw.”

Your heart drops. Scanning the horizon you try to pick out what he is seeing. “I thought they were further east than this?”

“You wanna be the one to tell him he needs to go home?”

They’re a rumble, almost like thunder, shaking you to your core. “Is that it?”

He’s got your arm in one hand, dragging you towards a run down building. There’s no door, and the interior is half filled with dirt. “Inside.”

“Inside what?”

The Cowboy gestures towards the ground, at a hole you had barely noticed. With his other hand he unslings his rifle, checking the chamber with a practiced flip. The hole itself is not big, large enough to crawl into on your hands and knees and extending back God only knew how far.

“What if something is in there?”

“You can lose a toe to a rad roach or your head to a deathclaw, sweetheart. I know which I would pick.”

He’s posted at the door, squinting off into the distance and you suddenly realize he intends for you to go in there alone.

“What are you going to do?”

“Hold it off,” he shrugs, “try to lead it away.”

“Can it smell us?”

“What?”

You grab his arm, pulling him into the house with you, “Can it smell us?”

“No, but it can see your ass just fine so-”

“Feet first,” you shove him at the hole. He glares but does so, sliding in without comment until you can’t see him any longer. His hat sits dejectedly by the entrance and you try to decide if you can pick it up when an earth-shattering roar splits the air. 

Well, nothing seems to have bitten him. 

You throw him your pack and then slide in feet first next to him, pushing with your hands against the fallen rocks and dirt. He reaches out a hand to help and between you you manage to shimmy down a few feet - maybe four in total from the entrance to the top of your head.

It’s not so tight you can’t move, can’t put a little space between you, but it’s difficult. You feel the arms he’s laying on move, a hand coming up to cover the shoulder dug into the dirt, and then he’s shifting you both until you’re lying beneath him.

“Both hands free now,” he grunts, pulling his pistol from its holster and laying it just past your head. Sure, he can see now but all you can see is his chest and dark concrete. He’s crouched over you, shifting upwards so his elbows are by your head, his knees on each side of your hips. You both stay silent as the ground shakes.

Shit, what if this hidey-hole collapses?

Another roar and you clutch at him out of instinct, burying your face into his chest. How close is it? Can it reach you? You try to slip further down but your feet hit more rock. 

Well, at least there’s nothing living in here.

Another roar, this time maybe slightly farther away. The Cowboy lets out a breath and shifts down so he can look you in the eye.

“I think it might have seen us, sounds like it’s hunting.”

His voice is barely over a whisper and you answer in the same low tone. “How long will it look?”

“Hour? Maybe two? Depends on if something else grabs his attention.” He glances down and seems to suddenly realize the position you’re in. A slow grin moves over his face and he shifts one foot between yours, kicking your legs apart and settling his hips down until they’re flush to yours.

“Seems like we might have a fair bit of time to pass.”

Your eyes widen in shock even as he pushes his half-hard cock against you. He looks pleased as punch about the fact. “You can’t mean to-”

“I do, and I will - unless you’re about to tell me no. That what’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

You consider it for only a moment before shaking your head. “No. I mean… yes.”

He tilts his head and licks his lips. “Well that’s about clear as mud.”

“I want you,” you finally settle on, getting a warm feeling when he gives you a genuine smile in return.

“No kissing, right?” he confirms, fingers playing with the strap of your dress. You nod silently, too afraid of what will happen now if you try to speak. It’s enough for him, slipping his hand beneath the fabric and twisting it down until it’s shoved under your breast.

“Well ain’t that a sight.”

His mouth feels like a brand, lips hot with a dry, almost raspy tongue laving against your skin. You should stop this, should tell him this isn’t right. It wasn’t right last night either but you didn’t care then and you can’t make yourself care now. It feels amazing and when he pulls your nipple between his lips there’s no thought left but how good he’s making you feel.

You groan, fingers digging into the rough skin on the back of his neck. He bites down, maybe a little too hard, and you nearly arch the both of you into the ceiling. 

“Thata girl,” he mumbles, fingers working at the other side of your dress until he’s got it pulled down too. You help as best you can, shimmying the straps down and then letting him push it to your waist. He rubs his face against you for a moment, pressing your breasts to his cheeks before turning and sucking your other nipple between his lips.

It’s too much and a harsh cry leaves you before you can stop it. There is an answering bellow from the deathclaw a half second later and suddenly a hand clamps over your mouth. The leather smells of blood and bile and you recoil.

“Shh, sweetheart,” he whispers, “if you can’t be quiet we’re going to have to stop.” One knee pressed at yours, pushing them further apart so he can hitch your thigh up on his hip. “And that sure would be waste of all this here attraction.”

You jerk at his hand, pulling it from your mouth then yank at the fingers of the glove. He understands immediately, using his teeth to pull first one, then the other off.  Staring directly into your eyes he covers your mouth with one palm, fingers digging into your cheek.

“Quiet as a church mouse,” he warns before ducking back down and nibbling at your breast. His other hand is on your thigh, pushing the skirt of the dress up slow enough you can tell he’s waiting for you to stop him.

You don’t, spreading your legs wider instead and shifting so he can cup his hand over your panties. It’s his turn to groan, albeit quieter than you had, fingers jerking at the cotton and twisting so he can slip against you.

“Ah, darlin’, you’re fucking soaked.” His accent is coming thicker somehow, laying over you like a blanket. His fingers toy between your thighs before pushing further, flicking over your clit.

It’s a good thing he’s got a hand over your mouth because you can’t hold back the noise you make. Suddenly he’s gone and you want to protest. You’ll beg, you’ll promise him anything, just…

He’s jerking at his belt and in your befuddled state it takes a minute to realize what he’s doing. But then you’re there with him, unzipping his pants and pushing them down far enough that his cock can spring free. It’s even hotter than the rest of him, enough to make you wonder if he’ll burn as you take him into your hand. He thrusts into your palm before knocking it away, guiding himself towards your center.

You try to brace yourself, try to relax into what you know is coming. But you can’t help the small muffled cry, or the way your eyes widen when he shoves himself into you. Your body goes rigid and his eyes meet yours, rounded with shock.

“Oh darlin’,” he mutters, his grip on your jaw relaxing slightly. He’s wide, almost impossibly so, even barely inside you can feel the stretch. “You sure about this?”

You nod, gripping his waist and trying to adjust your legs to take him easier. He watches you this time, easing forward in short movements a quarter inch at a time. Your slick eases the way and he finally seats himself, hips flush to yours.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, every twitch of him hard and hot inside of you. It’s scorching, almost uncomfortably so, but you can’t get enough. Soon the pain fades and you clutch your knees to his hips, arching your back to take him deeper. He growls when you do, tilting his head to bite against your neck.

It’s not gentle, not slow and rocking like you imagined it might be. No, it’s one hand over your mouth while he fucks you into the floor. You can feel his panting breath against your skin, hear the scrape of his knees on stone, smell the lingering scent of the chem he takes.

He arches over you, stilling suddenly and you feel a surge of disappointment. You knew it was likely this was how it would go - every bit of your education had been centered around your partner’s pleasure. Yet after last night you can’t help but feel like you’ve missed out, that this could have been so much better. He’d taken his time then, had seemed to enjoy getting you off.

“Not a peep,” he says lowly, eyes fixed somewhere over your head. You listen, so caught up in what was happening you had entirely missed the shuffling footsteps not ten feet away. Whatever it was was heavy, the ground rumbling beneath you.

Not thinking twice, you arch your back so you can tilt your head, trying to see what is happening. The movement causes the Cowboy to slip deeper inside of you and he hisses. The hand on your mouth goes to your throat, almost slamming you back to the floor and holding you there while he glares down at you. 

He hadn’t finished after all.

The warning look is all you get before he begins to move again - the new angle punching something delicious inside of you. It’s too slow, not enough to come, but you can feel it building even as the monster in the room roars. He fucks you like that until the deathclaw leaves - slow, almost angry thrusts that make your entire body rock. By the time he speeds up you can feel tears at the corners of your eyes, your hands clawing against his back.

“Please,” you whisper, eyes pleading, “please.”

He glances over your head then leans down, lips next to your ear. “You wanna come for me, darlin’? Squeeze that little pussy around my cock til I fill you up?” He snarls at the last word, shaking his head slightly and adjusting just a fraction.

It’s enough, you come with a strangled cry that he cuts off with a fist around your throat. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced, the edges of your vision going black as your body shudders beneath his. You hear him curse, feel him move, and then he splashes across your stomach and thighs.

It takes a moment for his grip to loosen, for him to let you take a gasping gulp of air and blink up at him with wide eyes. He looks just as dumbstruck, his lips parted and you can see his pink tongue run along his lower teeth. He leans down slowly, his eyes dropping to your lips…

You turn away.

☢ ☢ ☢

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

[q-gorgeous]

Wing-Bully

fanfiction

ao3

word count: 5267

No one knows au except dash baxter @xscarletsakurax

this is a rework of something that was gonna go write some other writing i did but then i split them into two different fics because the halves didnt vibe with each other kjhgvcf

hidey hey

“Dash, you’re here so we can work on our project for Lancer’s class. We’re not supposed to be down here.” 

“Come on, ghosts aren’t even real. How dangerous can it be down here?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Dangerous enough that we should really be wearing jumpsuits to protect us from ecto-contamination.”

He walked over to the closet that was down there and pulled out his jumpsuit while Dash laughed at him. 

“Matching outfits with your parents? Lame.”

“Don’t complain to me if you get ectoplasm poisoning then.” 

Danny pulled on his jumpsuit and groaned at the sticker on his chest. He pulled it off and tossed it away. 

“What’s this?” Dash pointed at the deep hole in the wall. Danny walked over to him.

“That’s my parent’s ghost portal. It didn’t end up working though.” 

Dash pushed him towards the portal. “Why don’t you go check it out?”

Danny frowned at him and tried to catch his footing. “No. I don’t know what’s wrong with it. I can’t-” 

“Haha, go in.”

“Dash, stopping pushing me-”

Danny tripped backwards over the threshold of the portal. He tried to catch himself on something on the wall but all he ended up doing was pressing a button that for some godforsaken reason was on the inside of the portal. It hummed around him and after a few moments everything went green. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Glad to see you’re not dead, nerd.” 

Danny looked up to see Dash. It was too early in the morning to deal with him after yesterday. 

“You already knew I wasn’t dead.” 

“A man can dream.” Danny rolled his eyes at Dash’s comment.

“I remember someone crying a lot of tears yesterday when they thought I was dead.” 

A blush rose on Dash’s cheeks. “My adrenaline was running like crazy! It’s not my fault your screams triggered some kind of primal response in my brain!”

“Crying is a primal response now?”

Dash rolled his eyes back at him and crossed his arms. “Have you figured out your whole ghost thing yet?”

“It’s literally been one day.” Danny stared at him. “How could I have figured anything out yet?”

Dash leaned in close to Danny and he glanced at Dash’s lips for a moment before his gaze darted back to Dash’s. “Maybe your parents have some sort of cure. Or maybe it was a one time thing. I don’t know.” 

“Why do you care so much? It’s literally your fault this is happening.”

Dash raised a hand and looked like he was reaching to place it on Danny’s shoulder. “I just-”

Dash was interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind them. They turned around and were met with Sam and Tucker. She was glaring at Dash with her arms crossed. 

“What are you friends with him now?” Sam asked, angrily gesturing at Dash.

“Woah, so what if he wants to be friends with me?” He asked, stepping towards her.

She barked out a laugh. “Come on! You’ve been bullying him the entire time I’ve known both of you. Why would he want to be friends with you? You must be blackmailing him or something.”

“Sam, he’s not blackmailing me.”

“How can we trust that? You could be lying because he’s blackmailing you.” Tucker frowned at him and reached out a hand, placing it on Danny’s shoulder. “I don't want what happened in elementary school to happen again.”

Danny shrugged it off. “That’s not what’s going on. Why can’t you just trust me on this?”

“Because this isn’t smart.” Sam said. “Why do you guys need to be friends?”

Danny threw his hands into the air. “Why are you getting so defensive about this? You’ve literally only seen us have this one conversation and you’re already mad at me. For all you know we could have been assigned a project together or he’s asking about his tutoring sessions with Jazz. Maybe he had to reschedule and wanted me to tell Jazz.”

Tucker shuffled where he stood but Sam still stared at him with crossed arms. 

“Yeah but are you going to tell us the real reason?”

“Does it matter, Sam?” 

Out of the corner of his eye Dash saw Danny start slowly sinking. He panickingly grabbed Danny’s arm to prevent him from sinking any further into the ground. Danny tried to keep his expression neutral but Dash could tell he was shaken. 

“Oh. Is that what’s happening?” Sam looked between the two of them. 

“Is what happening?” Danny asked, frowning at her. 

“What kind of enemies to lovers bullshit is this?” Dash’s eyes widened at her outburst. What was she talking about? What did she think was happening?

His gaze landed on where his hand was still wrapped around Danny’s upper arm and he pulled it back like he’d been burned. Sam scoffed. 

“Sam-” Tucker started but she interrupted him.

“Do you even realize how toxic that kind of relationship can be? He’s just going to hurt you.”

Danny recoiled at her words. “What are you even talking about?”

“The fact that you two seem to be getting real cozy with each other? Are you dating or something?” 

Dash stepped in front of Danny. “How shallow do you have to assume the only reason I’d be talking to him now is if we’re dating? For your information, we used to be friends as kids.” Dash frowned at her and watched as she backed up. “Just because you’re self conscious about your major crush on Fenton doesn’t mean you have to take it out on us because we’re having a simple conversation.”

A blush appeared on Sam’s cheeks before she angrily stormed away. 

“Sorry.” Tucker said as he looked between them again before he followed after her.

Danny watched them as they walked into the school. He was quiet for a few moments before he turned his gaze back to Dash.

“Sam has a crush on me?”

Dash groaned. “That is what you’re focused on?” He started walking towards the school.

Danny followed next to him. “But I didn’t know that! How did you know that?”

“You’re just about the only person who didn’t know, Fenton.”

Dash pushed through the front doors of the school. Danny had a dazed look on his face. 

“Is that why everyone calls me clueless?” He whispered. 

“Clueless strikes again.”

Danny frowned up at him. “Oh what, you’re so observant, are you?”

Dash pushed open the front door of the school. It swung closed behind them. “More than you. I’m not even friends with Manson and I could see the blackened heart eyes she was giving you.” 

Danny shuffled his backpack on his shoulders as they walked down the hall. “I’ve just never seen her that way. I don’t like her like that.”

Dash’s brows shot up on his forehead. “You don’t?”

Danny shook his head. He veered off to the right and Dash followed him to his locker. “She's just a friend to me.” 

Dash leaned against the lockers while Danny tried to open his but his hand just ended up passing through the dial lock. He groaned.

“Maybe you should tell her that, then. Get it over with so she doesn’t try to kill anyone that even thinks to get close to you.”

Danny rolled his eyes. He finally got his locker open. “She wouldn’t kill anyone for getting close to me.”

“I don’t know.” Dash drawled. “She looked like she was gonna claw my eyes out back there. Like a creepy bat girl.”

Danny slammed his locker shut and turned to look at Dash. “You know, if we’re going to be doing whatever this is, I would appreciate you not making comments about my friends like that.” 

“But she can talk to me like that?”

Danny frowned. “No. I literally told her there was no reason for her to be talking to you like that for having a simple conversation with me.”

“But she’s allowed to not like me?”

“That’s your own fault.” Danny rolled his eyes. “She has every right not to like you.”

Dash huffed. He was about to say something but then Danny started sinking into the floor again. Danny panickingly grabbed Dash’s forearm to prevent himself from sinking any further in. Dash pulled him up and when he set him back down, his feet were solid again. Dash looked around them and miraculously no one else in the hall saw what happened. 

“I’m already over this.” Danny mumbled as he let go of Dash. 

“Do you think you’ll get control over it eventually?” Dash asked him. 

“Hopefully. Otherwise I’ll probably have no choice but to ask my parents for help. I really don’t want to do that though.” 

“Maybe we could do some training? Or practice? You won’t get used to your powers if you just try to ignore them. If you try to do it, then maybe you’ll understand how to not do it.”

Danny nodded. “That makes sense. I guess that’s what we’ll have to do.” 

They came to a split in the hallway. Danny looked up at him.

“Well, I’m going this way.” Danny hooked a thumb over his shoulder as he turned to face Dash.”

Dash nodded. “See you later. Hopefully you don’t drop anything today.”

“Hopefully. We’ll see.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Thirty four beakers. 

Danny was finally getting ahold of his powers and all it took was thirty four dropped beakers and a lifetime ban from handling anything fragile while he was at school. 

Aside from the frequent ghost sighting, things were starting to look up.

“Manson!” 

If only Dash could learn to keep his thoughts to himself when it came to his friends. 

“What is this garbage?” 

He stomped up to where the three of them were sitting at their table in the cafeteria. Sam frowned at him. 

“It’s not garbage! It’s recyclable organic matter.”

“It’s garbage.” Danny and Tucker said together. 

Danny gasped out a breath of cold air. He looked around him. He saw a lunch lady ghost behind the food counter. 

Dash followed his gaze to where the ghost was. He saw it just as she walked behind the wall. 

Dash looked back at Sam and held up his plate of mud, pushing himself between Danny and his friends. “When I asked for a mud pie, I thought I was gonna get a mud pie. Not a literal mud pie!” 

“Actually, it’s topsoil.” 

“Whatever. Are you going to actually eat this garbage?”

Danny slipped away while Dash argued with his friends. Maybe Dash arguing with his friends could actually be useful for something for once. 

He found somewhere to hide and transformed. He flew invisibly back to the cafeteria to the room the lunch ladies worked in. She was floating there looking around and the food and the lunch trays. She kind of looked like Tucker’s grandma. 

She caught sight of him. Danny was ready to bolt as she floated up to him, but she wasn’t making any moves to attack him.

“Hello.” She said sweetly. “Can you help me? Today’s lunch should be meatloaf, but there’s not any here. Did someone change the menu?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah. They’re trying something new this week.” 

Danny jumped back as her hair suddenly flamed up with her anger.

“The menu has been the same for fifty years!” She shouted at him. 

“Wait-”

She levitated some plates and shot them at him. Danny dodged and caught them, avoiding getting hit. What was up with this lady? Why was the menu so important? 

“The menu is sacred! Lunch is sacred!” She spoke in her sickly sweet voice again. “Would you like some cake?”

Danny looked at her, confused. “If you’re offering-”

“No one gets cake until the menu is changed back!” 

She held her arms up and meat started flying towards her from every direction. It engulfed her and turned her into a meat monster.

“Meat is the most important food group! Without meat, you’ll remain puny and muscle-less!” 

“I’m not arguing with you there.” Danny mumbled. He geared up for a kick but she grabbed his ankle and sent him flying across the room. 

“I will restore the sanctity of the lunch menu! As soon as I find out who changed it!”

She disappeared in a tornado of meat.

The ghost was gone for now. Danny flew through the wall of the school and collapsed onto the ground. He transformed back and tried to push himself up. He was so tired. He’d never used his powers like that before. He groaned. 

“Hey.”

Danny opened his eyes and looked up. Dash was standing there with his hand outstretched to Danny. He looked at it for a second before he reached up and grabbed it, pulling himself up with Dash’s help. 

“Thanks. That ghost wiped me out.”

“No problem. I wanted to make sure that ghost didn’t kill you. I was trying to find you when I saw you fly through the wall and hit the ground out here.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah that wasn’t fun.” He looked down and saw that he was still holding onto Dash’s hand. He pulled it away and coughed. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I should go check on Sam and Tucker though. I want to make sure they’re okay.”

“The ghost attack was pretty contained.” Dash said. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Ah.” Dash said. “That’s fair. Sorry about dragging out that argument with her.”

Danny shrugged and started walking away. “It distracted them long enough to let me slip away for a bit so. No harm done. At least not to me.”

“Good luck. Hopefully she doesn’t chew your head off.” 

Danny pulled the door Dash had walked out open and stepped back inside the school, shaking the hand that had been holding Dash’s. He made his way through the hallways to find Sam and Tucker. 

Sam slammed open the cafeteria doors as Danny stumbled down the hallway. 

“I still can’t believe you’re talking to that meathead.” She shot at him with no preamble. “He literally antagonizes all of us. And then you ditch us to go meet up with him? I saw you two outside.”

“Sam-” 

“What can you say to defend him?” She turned to look at him. “He beats you up all the time.”

“Not anymore.” Danny said.

“What?” Sam stopped walking.

“He doesn’t beat me up anymore.”

She didn’t say anything to that for a few moments. She shook her head. “I still don’t trust him. I don’t get how you could forgive him so easily.”

“I-” He stopped. Had he forgiven Dash?

Sam shook his head. “Let’s just get to class.”

Danny looked around them. “Where’s Tucker?”

She rolled her eyes. “He said he smelt meat so he went to track it down through the hallways. I don’t know if he’s found it yet.” 

Danny scrunched up his nose. He knew exactly what meat Tucker was smelling. “He’s just gonna go eat whatever random mystery meat he finds?”

“Apparently.”

Danny didn’t respond after her last stilted reply. He followed behind her to their next class. When they walked in she went straight to her seat but he looked up and made eye contact with Dash. Dash gave him a questioning look and Danny just shrugged at him before sitting back down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dash walked into the Nasty Burger. Football had just ended and he was hungry. 

As he was walking to the counter he saw Danny sitting at a table with his friends. Dash smirked and walked over to them.

��Hey, nerds.” He placed a hand on the table and leaned his weight into it. 

Sam rolled her eyes. “What do you want?” 

“I just came to say hi to my favorite nerds. Is there a problem with that?” 

“If we’re your favorite does that mean you’ll stop making fun of us?” Tucker asked thoughtfully. “Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, Sam.”

“He’s not going to stop making fun of us, Tucker. The two of them are over there ‘trying to be friends.’” She said with air quotes. “And he still picks on us all the time.” 

“I’ve tried talking to him about it, Sam, but he has a hard time with it.” 

She shot Danny a look. “So why be friends with him? Why give him a chance? What do you see in him?”

“Just because he doesn’t like you-”

Sam scoffed. “Maybe you’re too insecure about your own crush on Danny.” 

Danny whipped his head to look at her. 

“What?” Dash laughed it off. “What are you talking about, Manson?” 

“Yeah, Sam, what are you talking about?” Danny stared at her. 

“Isn’t that what’s been happening this whole time?” She shot back at them. “He’s got some kind of weird feelings for you, he’s trying to get into your pants. Get on your good side. The pulling the girl’s pigtails because you like her bullshit? Don’t you see how weird his sudden change in actions towards you is?” 

“What about your sudden change in actions?” Danny shot at her. “Do you realize how much of an asshole you’ve been lately?”

“Well, maybe if you weren’t friends with-”

Danny threw his hands up in the air. “God forbid if I make new friends! Or try to get along with someone instead of fighting! Or even make decisions for myself.” 

“Danny-”

He cut her off and stood up. “No I’m-” He gasped and Dash saw his ghost sense fog out of his mouth. He frowned. “I’m going home. I need some time alone.” He turned and started walking towards the door. 

“Danny!” Dash followed behind Danny out of the Nasty Burger. 

The ghost was flying above the parking lot shooting ecto-blasts every which way. 

The door slammed behind Dash and Danny turned his head to look at him. 

“I need some time to think. Please just go back inside.” 

He called on his transformation rings. Once they passed across his body he jumped up and flew into the air towards the ghost. 

He watched Danny fight the ghost. He could tell he was angry. He was sloppy today. 

Danny missed a dodge and got hit through the air by the ghost. He ended up turned facing the opposite direction so he didn’t see it start to charge at him. 

Dash’s heart raced as he watched the ghost fly up to Danny. His heart stirred with feelings he wanted to push down. He didn’t need to put himself in danger for Danny. He didn’t feel that way. Danny didn’t feel that way about him.

But as the ghost got closer, Dash couldn’t help as the anxiety skyrocketed. His resolve broke and he picked up a big piece of asphalt off the ground and chucked it at the ghost. It turned to look at him. 

Dash froze when the ghost’s eyes landed on him. What was he doing? Was Danny really that important to him now?

The ghost’s mouth filled up with ectoplasm and shot it towards.

He wouldn’t be able to move in-

Danny knocked Dash out of the way of the ecto-blast just in time. His arms wrapped around Dash’s chest and he flew back. The blast hit the ground where he’d been standing just a moment before. 

Dash wrapped his arms around Danny as they slammed into the ground. He groaned as his back slid across the pavement and Danny looked down at him. He started feeling the back of Dash’s head, running his fingers through his hair. 

Dash opened his eyes and looked up at Danny. He looked panicked. Like something was wrong, but he literally just prevented anything from being wrong.

“Dash, are you okay?”

He nodded. “Back hurts. Head’s fine.”

Danny leaned down and lay his head on Dash’s chest. Dash’s hands slid down Danny’s back and rested at his side and he closed his eyes again. He really didn’t like this whole ghost hunting thing. 

The ghost roared behind them and Dash felt Danny’s head shoot back up. 

“Shit! How did I forget about the ghost?”

Dash waved his hand above him. “Go. I’m fine. I’m just gonna get my bearings on the ground here.” 

Dash listened as Danny finished fighting the ghost. It ended quickly and he could hear Danny’s footsteps as he walked to stand over Dash. Dash opened his eyes and his heart jumped at the way the sun shone on Danny’s white hair. 

Danny held his hand out to Dash and he slowly reached up and grabbed it. Danny pulled him to his feet and looked at their hands. He let go a moment later. 

“I think we need a new rule. No interfering with ghost attacks.”

“What?” Dash frowned at him. “That thing was about to gobble you.” 

Danny crossed his arms. “Yeah, but if I didn’t get to you on time you could've gotten very badly hurt. I thought I knocked your head on the ground when I knocked you out of the way.” 

Dash shrugged. “But you didn’t.” 

“We can’t rely on that.” Danny looked away from him. “Just promise you won’t interfere like that again?”

Dash wasn’t sure if that was something he could actually do. But one look at the expression on Danny’s face told Dash he should at least try. 

“Yeah. I promise.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny was nodding off in the middle of class. They were given time to work on their homework today but all Danny wanted to do was sleep. Having to fight all these ghosts all the time was making his life way too stressful. He wasn’t to sleep or get his homework done or even get to class on time. It was starting to get to him. 

He yawned. While his eyes were shut he heard someone sit down next to him. He opened his eyes and saw Dash in the next seat over. 

“You look tired.”

“Thanks, captain obvious. I didn’t realize.” 

Dash shrugged. He slouched back in his seat. “Your friends are whispering about you back there.” 

Danny turned and looked over his shoulder at where Sam and Tucker sat at the table in the back of the classroom. When they saw him looking Sam turned back around. Tucker just waved at him awkwardly. 

Danny waved back at him. “I wish they’d just sit over here with me.” 

Dash waved them off. “Who needs ‘em if they’re going to be treating you like that.” 

Sam snorted behind them. Dash turned to look at her. “You got something to say Manson?”

“As if we could treat him any worse than anything you’ve ever done to him.” 

Dash shrugged as he faced back towards the front of the classroom. “Hey, at least my character arc is positive. I’ve made amends.” 

“You’ve hardly even done anything. What kind of character arc have you actually had?”

“I-” Dash started but then he stopped. His brows dropped down and he looked at Danny. 

It hit Danny then that the only thing that really changed with Dash’s behavior was how he treated Danny. He didn’t pick on him anymore and he had cared about him, but he immediately resumed the same habits with both of Danny’s friends. Any time that Dash covered for Danny’s whereabouts during ghost fights, the only thing he could think to do was antagonize Sam and Tucker. He could never think up any actual excuses that wouldn’t cause more problems. 

Danny missed part of the conversation. By the time he tuned back in, Sam was glaring at Dash from across the room. 

“Just because he’d rather spend time with me than you-”

Danny’s ghost sense picked that moment to go off and he couldn’t think of a more convenient time for it to have happened. He stood up sharply and made his way out of the classroom quickly. The door slammed behind him as it closed and he was a couple steps down the hallway when the door opened behind him again.

“Danny, wait-” 

“Why do you do that?” Danny turned and frowned at him. 

“What?” Dash’s brows furrowed.

“Why do you dig at them like that? Make them feel bad about what’s going on?”

“Manson-” Dash started but Danny interrupted him. 

“No. Sam and Tucker are mad at me because of you. They think I’m always ditching them to go hang out with you instead.” 

“That’s not my fault!” Dash shouted back at him. “That’s the ghost’s fault!” 

“But they don’t know that!” Danny stared at him. “All they know is that I’m on good terms with you now and I disappear all the time. They know something is up.” 

Dash shuffled where he stood. He knew he was causing a rift between Danny and his friends. No matter how much he liked to antagonize them, he wasn’t proud of it. He wasn’t trying to put distance between them. 

Danny sighed. “She keeps making jabs about us being together like it would be crazy. Like it would be the worst thing in the world.” Danny looked up at Dash. “I would like it if it wasn’t the craziest thing in the world. If it could actually be true. But with the way you treat my friends-” He shook his head. 

Everything around Dash stopped. What? 

“Danny-”

A blue mist came out of Danny’s mouth again. He shook his head.

“I gotta go.”

“Wait-”

Danny ran around the corner away from Dash.

“What did you do to him?” 

Dash looked down the hallway to see Sam glaring at him. Tucker stood next to her. 

“What?” He asked. 

“He just ran away from you? What did you do to him?” She stomped her way over to him.

“Nothing!” Dash held his hands up in a surrendering motion. “We were just talking and he had to go-”

“We’re in the middle of class. What else would he need to be doing right now?”

“Yeah. Why would he be leaving?” Tucker asked. 

“He, uh, went to-”

Sam ran past him and around the corner Danny went down, Tucker close on her heels. Dash followed behind them knowing Danny would already be gone but they didn’t stop there. They ran down the hallway and out the door leading outside. 

“Danny?” She shouted. “Where are you?”

Dash was the only one that noticed Danny floating in the sky. He was fighting an animal type ghost.

“Uh, guys, I think we should probably go back inside.” 

He pointed up at the sky and Sam and Tucker followed his finger. Sam’s eyes widened and she looked around the front of the school again. 

“Danny!” 

Phantom must’ve heard that one because he turned his head to look down at them. The ghost took that moment to hit Phantom, sending him flying through the air. Now he was much closer to them. 

This ghost looked horrifying. It was animalistic but it looked uncannily like a person. Stringy, hair looking fur and teeth curved into a creepy smile. 

“Get to safety! Now!” Phantom shouted down at them. He shot another ectoblast at the ghost. 

“We have to find Danny first!” Sam shouted in a panic. 

“He’s not out here.” Dash turned to go back inside the school. “Let’s just listen to Phantom and get somewhere safe.”

“That hallway doesn’t lead anywhere except outside! Where else could he be?” Sam asked, still turning around looking for Danny. 

“He didn’t-” 

“Danny!” Tucker shouted. 

Dash growled. Why didn’t they just listen to him? 

The ghost let out a shriek and Dash squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears. 

“Go inside, now!” 

Dash’s eyes opened at Phantom’s shout. He looked back up into the air. 

Dash stared at the ghost that was hovering in the air in front of them. It was cackling, its head thrown back into the air. It looked back at the ground directly at Sam and promptly shot an ectoblast out of its mouth. Dash saw Sam’s mouth open the slightest bit and everything slowed down. Danny turned, following the path of the blast but when he tried to fly towards her the ghost grabbed onto him, trapping him. 

This was one of Danny’s best friends. She might hate Dash’s guts but Danny cared for her more than she hated him. 

Without another thought, he pushed himself into a run and sprinted his way across the grass. He put himself between her and the ghost and grabbed her just as the blast hit him in the back.

He could hear Sam scream as they fell to the ground. Tucker was shouting from somewhere else but Dash couldn’t make much out past the ringing in his ears. He could hear scuffling in the air above him but it was muffled. The pain in his back radiated out and he could feel it in every jostle as someone shook his body. 

Everything started fading away and Dash hoped he wasn’t dying. Distantly, he wondered if this is how Danny felt when he died in the portal. 

The voices fell away and so did Dash.

~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly, the world came back to him. The first thing he noticed was the steady beeping nearby. The second thing was how bright the lights were against his eyelids. 

He groaned and he heard some shuffling to his left. Someone placed a hand on his arm. 

“Dash?”

His heart skipped a beat and he slowly pried his eyes open. He was laying in a bed in the hospital and Danny was standing to his left. 

“Danny?” Dash croaked out. He tried to sit up but Danny pushed him back down against his pillows. 

“You shouldn’t move too much. You got hit pretty bad.” 

“You got the ghost though?” Dash asked. 

“Yeah, he got the ghost.”

Sam and Tucker walked into the room and stood next to Danny. 

“Uh, no I asked if Phantom got the-” Dash fumbled, trying to cover it up.

“It’s okay, Dash.” Danny said. “I told them. I thought it might be better if they knew.”

Dash looked at Danny’s two friends. They didn’t look like they were mad at him anymore. Or like they hated him. It was relieving that they knew. Danny didn’t have to keep avoiding them or keep secrets anymore. 

“If we’d known in the first place we could’ve helped, you know.” Sam said, shooting both of them a look. 

“Yeah. A team always needs a tech guy.” Tucker crossed his arms in mock frustration.

“But we do understand why you guys have been acting weird for the past couple months.” Sam turned to look at Dash. “Thank you for helping him even though you didn’t have to.”

Dash nodded, dumbfounded.

She stared at him a moment longer and pulled her gaze away. “And thank you for knocking me out of the way of that hit. Sorry it landed you here.”

Dash shook his head. “You’re Danny’s friends. You’re important to him. I didn’t want you to get hurt because of all this ghost stuff.” 

“That’s a nice thought, but you should also try not to get yourself hurt.” Sam said. 

“Yeah.” Danny frowned. “You promised.” 

Dash shrugged. “We can call it karma.” 

Tucker stepped forward. “We need a name.”

“A name?” Danny looked up at Tucker.

“Yeah, like a cool ghost hunting team name.” He waved his hands in the air. “What about Team Phantom?”

Sam snorted. “That sounds dumb.”

Tucker planted his hands on his hips. “Well, do you have any better ideas then?”

Danny’s hand slowly made his way down from his arm to his hand as they talked. He entwined his fingers with Dash’s and gave him a squeeze. Dash squeezed his hand back. 

Everything would be okay. Everything was okay. 

[followthebluebell]

Hey, is a Bengal/Savannah Cat cross a bad idea? These seem like a horrible idea to me but admittedly I don't know much about cat breeds

ohhh yeah, it's a bad idea.

so, a lot of this is pretty anecdotal and also based on ONE bad breeder. A few years back, I was very, VERY lucky enough to foster several savannah x bengal crosses. One of the first things that struck me about the cats was how fucked up their reproductive systems are. My vets NEVER had so much trouble spaying cats. Even the youngest cat had a uterus full of cysts, and that's weird as fuck in a 4 month old kitten. Some of it COULD just be piss poor breeding and shit genetics, but I can't help but shake the feeling that maybe crossing three separate species into a single animal could fuck something up reproductively.

Tempe was the worst off. She ended up having a closed pyometra (infected uterus). She was 9 months old or something like that. Her surgery was a success, thankfully, but she required a SECOND one due to an infected stump that managed to hide somewhere. Apparently her uterus and ovaries were just a tangled mess.

Behaviorally, they were all a little off. Again, these were animals that came from a profoundly abusive/neglectful situation so some of it could be blamed on that. I don't want to go into details because it's deeply upsetting. Their former owners were charged and found guilty of animal abuse.

But I want to talk about the cats more.

Here's a cat bed. It's one of those like vaguely croissant shaped beds, with a little hidey hole inside. You can see an extra cat-installed hole. That wasn't an original feature. Tempe had a toy mouse, see, and it made little squeaky sounds. It was UNDER the bed.

She decided the most direct route was to go THROUGH the bed. She made this hole and started pulling out the stuffing in around three minutes.

This wasn't an isolated event. None of them were allowed typical cat toys, because they would be torn apart pretty quickly. They were provided with dog toys instead (even my own Saia is like this).

All of the hybrids tended to just... Go. They never really stopped to think about things. They just went from off to on in an instant. Most had resource guarding issues to work through as well (this isn't an uncommon savannah trait; Saia's missed most of it, unless she's stolen some chicken).

This extended to other animals, tbh. A dog got into the yard once. The cats were all safe in their enclosed catios, but you can imagine that they were all pretty upset. Most of the savannah x bengals were ready to throw down, though. There was just zero hesitation. Tempe once caught a bird through the bars of her catio.

Again, a lot of this could be blamed on really bad genetics, poor socialization background, and a slew of other things. But I can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, mixing three species into one is a Bad Idea.

[moldycantaloupe]

Mushy May Day 26

"You Smell Nice."

Pairing; Rain/Dew

Cw; weed

Rating; E for Explicit

notes; sniff. wanted to write Raindrop again. Raindrop t4t thigh grind. scent kink. you know how it is. ("hey isn't it-" I was too busy playing ace attorney leave me be) thanks as always to @forlorn-crows for putting together the list of prompts!

Dew breathed in deep as he took a hit off the last of the joint, held it in as he leaned over to crush it out, and breathed out a hefty sigh when he leaned back into his bed, the smoke billowing out of his nose and mouth.

Him and Rain had spent the day lazing around; woke up later than usual, gave each other quickies, grabbed breakfast, and headed back to their room for another round. At some point in the afternoon Dew slipped out of the room while Rain snoozed and came back with a small bag from Mountain, “a gift for a favor” he said when Rain questioned him.

Now they were both back to laying down and cuddling, Rain the ever affectionate when intoxicated. Dew pet and picked through their hair while they practically laid on top of him, arms wrapped firm around his waist and their bottom resting on his thigh. It was their favorite way to cuddle, someone at some point dubbed it the “koala position.”

Rain breathed in deep, taking in a big sigh, but paused on their exhale. Dew hummed in consideration, his head tilted slightly. They lifted their head only to snuggle it closer to Dew’s neck, taking in another breath before sighing.

“What’re doing?” Dew mumbled. They breathed in deep again and practically moaned on the exhale. 

“You smell s’ nice.” They mouthed big, sloppy kisses on his skin as they took in another deep inhale, this time air exhaling through their gills. It tickled his skin when they did that. 

“Glad to be of service.” Dew fluttered his eyes closed and gave Rain better access to his neck. Rain crammed their nose further into his hairline, and he chuckled. “Rain,”

“‘S so good, Dew,” they continued to leave sloppy kisses (though, Dew couldn’t classify them as kisses anymore but rather ‘licking,’) as they breathed in his scent. He opened his eyes and looked down, their hips starting a slow rut against him.

“That good?” Dew wiggled his free arm down to hold their hip and helped guide them into a simple grind. They whimpered against his skin, their eyes shut and brows furrowed.

“Dew,” they cut themselves off on a particularly hard grind, their face furrowing further into his neck and hair. “Oh, Sathanas, Dew.”

“Yeah, I’ve got you.” 

Dew could faintly hear and more feel the wet slide of Rain against their boxers, already soaked through and onto his leg. Their whimpers grew in volume until they were fledged out moans, high and reedy and oh, so beautiful. He always wondered if he could get off just by watching Rain, cumming untouched. They had him in a vice grip like that. 

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck-” they frantically clawed at his waist, needing purchase to keep themselves afloat. Desperation in their voice and motions, he knew they were close. He held them firm in his hand, pushing his fingers into their soft skin as they very quickly came undone in his grip. He kept his other in their hair, still petting through the thick strands.

“I- mmm, ‘m gonna-” Rain couldn’t finish their sentence as they were thrown into their orgasm, powering through it with a choked off scream and shaking legs. Fluid oozed out of them and directly onto his leg, he could feel it slowly dripping down onto the sheets. Ever so slowly, their hips ceased to move once the overstimulation made them shake in pain rather than pleasure. Their breathing was still crazed, chest moving rapidly.

“Get your nose out of my hair and breathe, dammit.” He used the hand in their hair to gently pull them out of their little hidey hole. They whimpered but obliged, taking in a deep breath as if they were starved for it. They probably were.

“Damn Rain,” Dew chuckled, “Didn’t know you had a thing for smells.”

Rain laid their head on his collarbone, facing out and up towards him. Their eyes were dazed, pupils blown, mouth ajar. They blinked up at him once, twice, and nodded.

“Let me eat you out.” Rain breathed. “Please.”

And who was Dew to deny his water ghoul?

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Guess who's back? Back again. With more Buck/Bucky from Masters of The Air 'cause it's Monday and work's trying to murder my will to live. Prompt is #33. The feel of fingertips trailing over a bare shoulder blade with a bonus #63. Indigo skies just before dawn, if that is useful in any way. Do with them as you please, I'll quietly sit here and watch you work your magic. Thank you as always for these.

Thank you for this!! As you know, I was NOT expecting the 1000-word fic this turned into, but here you go lol I hope these extra-soft vibes counteract any terrible work ones!

coming in clear

Fandom: Masters of the Air Pairing: Gale "Buck" Cleven x John "Bucky" Egan Rating: T Word Count: 1025

Summary: When Buck uses his bunk to hide the new radio, Bucky offers him a different place to sleep.

The first night after Buck had built the radio, Bucky woke up and rolled over to see his best friend sitting there in the dark.

“What you doing?” he mumbled.

His eyes were only half open, but he kept them trained on Buck’s shape until it grew more distinct. He was sitting where he’d been before, leaning against the wall next to the window. That wall would be freezing, especially this time of night—whatever time of night it was. Late enough that Bucky could hear quiet, heavy breathing from the racks above and below his own.

“Was scared I’d roll on the radio,” Buck explained, giving a shrug that was only the faintest rise and fall beneath the bulk of his scarf and coat.

Bucky closed one eye and dug his knuckle into the socket, trying to evict the sleep threatening to drag both his eyelids back down.

They hadn’t figured out a place for the new radio yet. After their old hidey-hole in the table leg had been discovered, they knew the next spot they chose would need to be damn near undetectable. Just for one night, they’d agreed on Buck’s plan to sleep with the thing in his bunk.

“Lie on your back and put it…” Bucky interrupted himself with a massive yawn that left his eyes watery. “…on your chest.”

“It’s cold.”

“Put it between your knees.”

“It’s cold. Last thing I need to do is shift in my sleep and freeze the damn thing to my balls.”

Bucky smiled sleepily at Buck’s annoyance.

“I don’t know why you’re smiling like that,” Buck complained.

“You’re cranky. You’re funny when you’re cranky.”

“I’m cranky because I haven’t slept.” Buck scraped a hand through his hair.

Bucky had a solution for that. He swung his arm loose and slapped the wooden side of his bunk. He slapped it a second time, not so hard, after he heard rustling from the bunk below.

“Get in with me,” he whispered.

“There’s more room in a tin of sardines.”

“I can squish up real small.”

He heard Buck’s breathy laugh.

“Yeah, I bet.”

“C’mon, just try.”

With a reluctance Bucky would’ve accused Buck of faking if he’d been more awake, Buck rose from his seat and shook off his heavy coat, slinging it up onto the radio-free end of his own bunk. Buck peered at him in the dimness that was passing from pitch-black into indigo. He didn’t look at the window. He didn’t want to know how much night remained. He just watched Buck unwind the thick scarf, watched him unbutton his shirt, watched him stoop to remove his boots, then peel his undershirt off at the last second before he shuffled over to Bucky’s rack. Bucky wriggled towards the wall, angling his body so he didn’t knock his shelf. He patted the narrow space beside him in invitation. Buck took hold of the wooden frame, pulling himself up and into the bunk.

They were nose to nose, but Bucky ignored that, trying to wrap Buck into the rough wool blanket so they could share heat.

“You think we would’ve gone camping if we’d met as kids?” Bucky asked as he stuffed the edge of the blanket under Buck’s shoulder.

Buck’s expression went really fond and calm.

“Yeah, I think we would’ve.”

Bucky nodded and swallowed; he’d realized his arm might not be coming back. If he drew it towards his chest again, he’d probably yank the blanket out from under Buck. He was stuck, arm hovering over his friend, not quite holding him. It was stupid—it was war. They should share resources. He clenched his jaw and lowered his arm until it rested around Buck.

He didn’t need light to be able to tell how Buck’s eyelashes flickered at the contact. Their faces were close. Real close. Buck’s lashes were a dark feathering Bucky wanted to feel on his fingertips. He felt hot air leave Buck’s parted lips and puff against his cheek. He cleared his sleep-thickened throat.

“You warm enough?”

“Getting there.”

Tentatively, Bucky tensed his arm, definitely hugging Buck against him now. And Buck moved into it. The heat. Bucky started to feel bad that he was still wearing his shirt. It wouldn’t have been about the sensation of Buck’s bare chest pressed to his, it would’ve been about… no. Fuck. He wanted to feel it. He wanted to carry the memory into the morning, the afternoon, the evening, and all the rest of the days of this war. He wanted to remember what it was like when neither of them had yet stood at the animal trough-like sink to get their pitiful daily wash with a grimy shard of soap, he wanted Buck’s unclean skin. He wanted to inhale and know what they smelled like together, even as Buck gradually took on the scent of his bed, his blanket, his skin.

He hadn’t minded Buck’s prodding elbow—he had his arms folded between them—but as they got warm, as they did a flirtatious back-and-forth dance with sleep, Buck freed an arm, stretched until his elbow cracked, and then settled it around Bucky’s waist.

“Sleep, John,” he muttered, because, somehow, he knew Bucky wasn’t.

Bucky had his palm pressed to Buck’s back, fingers spread so he was practically clutching him close. He forced himself to relax his grip. He adjusted his head on his half of the pillow. They eased into one another. Buck’s knees got a little bend to them and, even though they were facing each other, Bucky managed to accommodate them, sliding his own legs until the limbs might’ve all belonged to one person, they arranged so naturally. It felt natural, too, to allow his touch to skim across Buck’s back. He traced over vertebrae like a car cresting hills on a Sunday drive. He stroked Buck’s shoulder blade and gripped so his fingers fit into the valleys between Buck’s ribs. Buck’s breathing turned steady and deep. Stealthy as a robber, Bucky crept his hand all across Buck’s skin, marvelling, as he plummeted into unconsciousness, at the delicacy of this assemblage of parts.

Like a homemade radio.

[ohbo-ohno]

https://www.tumblr.com/ohbo-ohno/729211936036765696/httpswwwtumblrcomohbo-ohno729206658953347072

Johnny scares you out of hiding, only for you to stumble right into Simon :((( they were 95% certain you’re blind, but now they know 100%, and Johnny is just absolutely gleeful about it, begging Simon to keep you bc wouldn’t he love having such a pretty little thing entirely dependent on them??

🌚 (I could go all night with this)

you should go all night with this. sorry for the slow response btw im watching rpdr again

original ask for this

you're sooo scared, and made even more scared by the fact that you can't see anything, can only hear what they choose to let you.

maybe there's another little entrance to your spot, one simon positions him at. johnny gets his hands rammed into your hidey hole, is able to just brush his fingers against you and get you screaming and scrambling away. you sort of fumble along the walls of your hiding spot, end up falling out into the open air unintentionally.

you can't even get your feet beneath you to try and run before a pair of hands scoop you up under your armpits. you scream again, legs kicking desperately and trying to throw your weight backwards.

there's a laugh in front of you, a little shake to your hanging form. it makes you want to curl up into a tiny ball, makes you feel vulnerable in ways you never have before.

you hear the other man trot up behind you. "got her?" he calls out.

"hmm," your captor hums in affirmation. "ran right into my arms."

"sweet thing," the scottish one laughs, and you feel a hand run over your head. it makes you flinch, has you ducking your head low with a shiver. "look at you, even prettier out here where we can see you. dirty thing, though."

"you can give her a bath when we get home."

you finally get the nerve to speak, giving a little kick forward. "no, let-lemme go-"

there's a click of a tongue from in front of you, another shake to your body. your mouth slams shut with a click, your legs falling still. "quiet, bunny. you're fine."

"be nice, si. poor little thing's heart probably can't take much more."

"she'll have to learn how, if you want to keep her for yourself."

your head jerks over your shoulder for a moment, unseeing eyes scanning nothing. "keep- what? no, no, please i don't... please, i-"

"hush," the scottish one says, stepping right behind you so his front is pressed to your back. "can't start panickin' so early, bun, you won't survive the walk home."

you're hauled closer to the other man's body. you try to leverage your feet on his body, kick at his stomach and try to get him to drop him, no matter how useless the fight feels.

he rumbles low in his chest - almost a growl against you - and pulls you tight to him despite the kicking. another hand worms between your bodies, brushes your feet away like nothing and leaves you hanging limp again.

"let's head back," the one holding you speaks. "she'll probably go into shock soon, don't want to be out here for that."

"no, please, i dont want-"

"shh. you're comin' home with us. we caught you, we're keeping you. nothing you can do about it now." the one holding you says again. his straightforwardness saps the energy from you, leaves you keening a low sound and letting your body become dead weight.

"there we go," the scottish one murmurs, another hand petting over your head. "good little bunny."

[sl-newsie]

Hat Thief (Jack Kelly x Medda's Daughter)

Hi!! Idk if you’re taking requests (if you aren’t ignore this, but if you are) could you please write a 92sies Jack Kelly x reader? Perhaps the reader is a year younger than him, she’s quite playful and steals his hat, practically forcing him to chase her. Very very fluffy and sweet! Tyy!!!♥️                 Gotcha!

Friendship is a wonderful thing. When two people’s relationship grows so deep, sometimes it feels as if they’re one and the same person. I met Jack Kelly 5 years ago, when mother and I first traveled to New York. My mother, Medda Larkson, became very busy with her theater and didn’t always have time to entertain me. Jack cured that. The minute he first snuck in backstage we’ve been thick as thieves ever since. He’s got his dream of leaving for Santa Fe, and I have my own dream of becoming an actress like my mother. But for now we’ve let our childhoods prosper with a strong friendship connected by fun memories.

“Hey there, Annie!”

Speak of the devil.

“Heya, Jackie.” I turn away from the costume I’m sewing and face the cowboy himself. He’s been growing more lately, especially since he can afford food better since the strike. “How’s the headline today?”

He leans back against the wall and twirls his cowboy hat in his hand. “Was ok, I guess. It was about the new horse at the track. Race luved it! How’s your day been?”

I shrug and gesture to my project. “Been woiking on this for the past two hours. Mom said I can take a break in ten minutes if you wanna do someth’n.”

Jack gets a devilish glint in his eye. After setting his hat down on the vanity, he slinks over to grab my hand and starts pulling me towards the back door.

“Whaddaya say we skip the wait and you can go on a break now? I hear there’s a few boids at the pond. People’re saying they’s flying south for winter, call’n ‘em swans.”

“Jack, I don’t wanna get anodda tell’n off from- Wait. Swans?” My jaw drops. “I’ve only read about them in books!”

“I thought that’d spark your interest!” Jack grins. “So let’s go!”

He drags me behind him while I try to pull the other way. “No, I can’t! I promised I’d have this dress done by supper.”

“Aw, c’mon.” Jack pouts and sticks his lip out. “Don’t leave me alone.”

I scoff and boop his nose with my finger. “You’ll survive for ten minutes.”

I sit back down and return to sewing the dress, while Jack keeps pacing the room.

“I could ask Medda to let you go early,” he suggests.

I stifle a laugh. “Won’t work. Mom’ll have you scrub’n the stage for say’n that. Just because you’re a year older does not mean you are smarter, Mister Kelly!”

The cowboy makes a mock look of surprise and dramatically clutches his heart. “I thought we were on a foist-name basis! I’m scarred!”

Then an idea flickers on in my head. Carefully, I inch closer to the vanity. “Well, we might not be able to go somewhere else to have fun-” I grip Jack’s hat behind me and hold it up to dangle it in the air. “But who says we can’t have fun here?”

Jack’s eyes widen when he sees the hat. “Now now, Annie. Give it back.”

I think for a second. “Nah. I think I’ll keep it!” And with that, I dash out the door and into the backstage corridor.

“Annabelle Larkson, give that back right now!” I hear Jack shout behind me.

“Come and get it, Jackie boy!”

I snake through the curtains and begin climbing the stairs to the catwalk. I’ve explored every inch-a this place since I was a kid, so I know every hidey-hole there is. There’s a tucked away cupboard near the back that’s poifect for right now. Once I’ve crammed myself in, I wait to see if Jack will continue with the chase. He’s not one to disappoint, because he comes panting up the stairs in a few seconds. 

“Alright, Annabelle. You got me! Come on out now.”

Why is this so fun? I struggle to silence my heavy breathing when I see him getting closer through the crack in the door. My heart’s beating faster and faster! But is it because of the thrill of the chase or something else? Jack walks past, and I swear he can hear my racing heart through the thin wooden door separating us. He passes, and seems to have missed me entirely-

“Gotcha!”

The cupboard door swings open and two strong arms grip my dress to pull me out. My reaction is a goilash squeal that rings throughout the empty theater as I struggle to break free.

“Oh no, you ain’t get’n away that easily!” Jack grumbles as he backs me into a wall and starts tickling me.

“No- No! Not fair! No tickling!” I titter.

After a while I stop fighting and Jack ends his tickle revenge, trying to keep a serious face but it keeps slipping into a smile.

“You give in?”

I roll my eyes and turn to face him while he’s still gripping my arms. “You know I ain’t do’n that, Jack.”

His brow furrows and he nods, seeming to think something over. “Alright, let’s make a deal.”

“I’m listening.”

He releases my arms and points to his hat I’m holding. “You give back my hat, but can keep my heart.”

His what? I frown. “Your heart? What’re you-? Oh!”

Jack leans in and presses a soft kiss to my forehead, causing me to strain against the wall in surprise. My hands press against the brick, unsure what to do. I’m speechless.

"You stole my heart too, Annie." When he pulls away and sees my shocked face, Jack starts panicking. “Did I mess up? Are you mad?”

I slowly come to my senses and shake my head. “No, no! You- you read me just fine, Jack. I’s just surprised it took you this long.”

He mirrors my surprise and playfully swats my shoulder. “You luv me too? You mean all this time I could’ve been kiss’n you? I thought you just thought of us as friends!”

I smirk. “So what’s stopping you now?”

He grins and leans in closer. “Not a thing, Annie.”

Friendship is a wonderful thing. When two people’s relationship grows so deep, sometimes it feels as if they’re one and the same person. And that’s exactly how it feels when Jack closes the gap to mesh our lips togedda. A million emotions race through me, and all in all I could never think of any odda guy I’d want to kiss me. It feels right. 

“Just curious,” Jack mumbles through the kiss. “Your mom ain’t gonna kill me for this, right?”

“Hm. No. Then she’d have to hear me complain the rest-a my life. By the way, this is yours.” I flop the cowboy hat on Jack’s head.

He chuckles. “I dunno. I think it looks bedda on you.” Jack brushes his nose against mine and wraps an arm around my waist. 

“Aw, I’m flattered. But what kinda cowboy would you be without your hat, hm?”

@amoreenaflower

Hope this is the fluff you were looking for! ;) 

[aylish91]

Leviathan nightmare sans x reader

You have good taste my friend. Thank you for the request. They are still open! Hope you all enjoy!

- - -

There was a decent sized fish flitting around the opening of your hidey-hole, taunting you with how nonchalantly it hovered and picked at the sand and rock. You shifted, trying your best not to bring attention to yourself as you eased forward. Though your space was tight, there should have been plenty of room for you to get into position in a quiet and stealthy manner.

The fish was right there after all. It should be easy.

You lunged, hands grabbing the head and tail while tentacles attempted to come up to curl around the slippery thing. Excitement rolled through you at the thought of finally catching something, just to be dashed with a curse as it thrashed and wiggled out of your grip.

Devastation.

How many times have you failed? How many times had your prey escaped when it should have been…

You huffed, pulling the rest of your body into the open. You were glad the rest of the boys were off patrolling so they didn’t see another one of your failed attempts at hunting. You don’t think you could handle Killer’s jokes at the moment. You’d have to scavenge some crabs again to at least look helpful.

A deep rumbling chuckle vibrated the water, startling you into looking up. “You seem troubled little fish. Would it help to know your attempt was a noble effort?”

Nightmare lounged on the wreck above you, no doubt having watched the whole thing. How he managed to move about unseen or heard with his massive size, you had yet to figure out. He had not been there when you started. You couldn’t look at him long though, shying away in embarrassment. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I should have caught it that time. I had it in my hands.”

He hummed, shifting to lower his upper half down and closer to you. Looking over your crestfallen state, he eventually sighed.

“It would seem I have failed to teach you something important. You are hunting and acting as if you are a shark. But my dear…” The water sparked and bubbled with magic, temporarily blinding you. “You are the same as I.”

White bony arms wrapped around you from behind, dark purple and black tentacles intertwining with your own. To say you were surprised was an understatement. From the months that you had started living with the guardians and their shiver, you had never once seen or even known he had a smaller form. One less dark and much closer to your size. 

He brought his skull to the side of your head, voice lowering and teeth brushing your ear with a hint of nostalgia. “Shall I show you?” 

You could only nod as your tentacles subconsciously wound tighter around his, the almost purred chuckle not helping. Then, he released you, gently gripping your hand to pull you through the water.

“Then let us proceed… my Pearl.”

…

You’d follow that smile anywhere…

Leviathan Master List Grand Master Post

[thewhimsyturtle]

Today was another RAMPAGE day! This time, instead of flipping over everything, I shoved all my things into one big pile under my light . . . and locked myself out of my hidey hut!? My hidey hut was completely blocked!?

I was so upset I dug a hole in a corner, pulled my head and leggies all the way into my shell, and GRUMPed until Mom came home and rescued me (with radicchio and snuggles!). Mom says I am the most ridiculous tort ever.

[aheckinmess]

Hide and Seek -> Pt. 1 [Hawks] (Fluff)

(One-shot 25/? in a collection of My Hero Academia one-shots posted regularly on Saturdays - and sometimes Sundays.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Keigo Takami, Takami Keigo, Hawks, Original Female Character(s), Ichijiku Aoki, Tigress, Fluff, Angsty Fluff, There's a Little of Both Okay, It's Bittersweet, Pining Hawks, Childhood Friends to Lovers, It's Actually So Cute, Takami - Keigo's Father Mentioned, Tomie Takami Mentioned, Bookstore is Mentioned, OC Works at a Bookshop, She Lives in Kamino Ward, The Bad Part of Town, Hawks Gets Protective, Pinky Promise, I'm Bad at Tagging, But I Blame That on the Fact that You Kinda Need to Read the Prompt Itself to Understand, What Else Do You Want from Me?

Word Count: 3,137 words

Summary: Hawks' childhood was not unlike that of Ichijiku Aoki, and she would know because she was his best friend. Ten long years after leaving her to train and be a hero, Hawks suddenly pops up in Ichijiku's life again.

Author's Note: This one-shot is a little different. Normally when I write multiple parts of a one-shot, I just include it in a separate series. However, this one just happened to run a little longer, so I decided breaking it into chunks would be helpful. I may end up deciding to make it its own series anyway, who can say? For now, you get part 1/2 of this tasty delicious prompt!

Ichijiku (Tigress)

Mommy doesn’t like emotional brats. That’s why when she and Daddy fall asleep, I sneak out the back door and start running down the trail behind our house. I make it to the broken tree before I see a blurry house. 

I step closer, the house getting clearer until it’s obvious it’s more of a shack, wooden and decrepit. It looks like the perfect place to play House, or Superheroes, or even Tea Party! Looking over my shoulder, I crawl beneath a lonely window and peek in. 

A little boy with red feathers looks back at me and I crouch as my heartbeat makes it hard to hear. I look up after a moment to find him when his shadow hangs out of the window above me.

“What are you doing here? You have to go before you get in trouble!” He whispers, turning over his shoulder. “My dad will be really angry if he sees you.”

“My mommy can’t find me, or she’ll whoop me good.” I hiss back.

We stare at each other for a minute before his pretty red feathers swirl around me. My face slips into a smile as I reach for it.

“This your quirk? What are they for?”

“I can move them around and hear things with them, but…Mom and Dad say they’re pretty useless.”

“Can you fly?”

“I dunno. Never tried.” He shrugs. “They don’t let me leave our house.”

“You should see if you can–” A limb snaps and both of us freeze, eyes snapping towards the sound.

“KEIGO!” 

I wave at him before hopping into the closest hidey hole I see: a barrel. The loud voice inside reminds me of Mommy. I expect the yelling and the smack! that follows, as well as the sharp scolding about being respectful and listening to adults.

I’m not expecting the silence that follows to be tainted with soft sobs from the sassy little boy from the window.

It makes me sad.

I peek out of my barrel and climb out, before looking into the broken window. The boy - Keigo? - faces away from me with shaky wings. He sniffles every few seconds as I listen for footsteps, eyes latched onto the woman sleeping on a mat beside him.

When I climb through and pad over to him, I pat his shoulder and pull on his arm. He pulls back and shakes his head.

“You have to go–”

“Who are you?” A tired voice asks.

I whip my head around to find a lady and two extra eyes watching me. Those two eyes float and circle around me, coaxing me to move closer to Keigo. I swallow thickly and hide my trembling hands behind my back.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m Keigo’s friend.”

“I asked who you are, Keigo’s friend. What’s your name?”

“Ichijiku.” I answer, looking at the floating eyes. “What are those for?”

“None of your business, kid.” Dark circles line her eyes as she glares at me. “Why are you here? How do you know Keigo?”

“I just met him. I was playing Hide and Seek outside when I found this house.” I explain carefully, glancing away. 

“Well, you’re not welcome here, kid. Keigo doesn’t have any friends. And if you don’t move your ass, my husband will kick you out personally.”

“Can I come visit Keigo another time if I promise not to bring nobody?” I plead.

“Tch. You can certainly try, kid.”

“Okay!” I lock her pinky with mine. “I pinky promise I won’t bring no one next time. See you later, Keigo!” 

. . . . .

The next time I see Keigo, I make extra sure I don’t see any eyes as I sneak in. No one else is in the house as I tiptoe over the wooden floorboards. Keigo’s still curled up in the same spot he was before, red feathers fanned out behind his back.

“Hi, Keigo.” I whisper.

“Huh?” He turns over and his eyes widen as he jolts to a standing position. “Ichijiku?”

“Yep!”

“What are you doing here?!” He hisses, squeezing a plushie against his chest. “I told you, my dad will kill you if he sees you here!” 

“He won’t see me.” I assure him. “Besides, you’re my friend! Do you wanna go play Hide and Seek outside?”

“I’m not allowed to go outside, ever.” He frowns.

“Oh.” I rub the back of my neck as I look around. “Well, do you wanna play Superheroes in here, instead?”

“What if my parents come back and you’re still here?”

“We can listen to hear when they’re coming and then I’ll go hide!” I say quickly, before I gasp and point at his feathers. “You said you can hear stuff with your feathers, right? Maybe you can listen for them?”

Keigo looks around the house one time, before he turns back to me with a smile.

“Let’s do it!”

It becomes our ritual to see each other at least once a week playing as the world’s greatest superheroes: Tiger and Birdie! Since Keigo can’t go outside and find me, I make the trek every Thursday to go visit.

Until one day I find the dilapidated shack empty.

My shoulders slump. My little legs scour the surrounding area and all over the house with no luck. No floating eyeballs. No loud, red-haired man. No Keigo. 

I return to my house feeling more lonely and worried than ever. Did he leave because he got in trouble? Did I get him in trouble? Will he ever come back? A few weeks pass and answer my question. As the little shack remains vacant, it becomes clear he's not coming back.

Mommy and I are waiting for the train when I spot it.

A small, red feather.

“What the hell are you looking at? Hurry up!” Mommy jerks me forward. “Pay attention so we’re not late!”

I see Keigo huddled up against the wall with his mom and my face smiles so wide it hurts! I look up at Mommy, scrolling on her phone, and get an idea.

When the train doors open and we make it to the platform, I duck and squirm between the people behind us to wiggle back into the train station. I dart over to Keigo as soon as the train doors close.

“Keigo-kun!” I call, sliding to a stop on my knees in front of him. “I found you!”

“Ichan?” His head lifts and his eyes sparkle.

I yank him into my arms, hugging him so tight. I don’t want to let him go. I want to take him home with Mommy so that he can stay with us forever!

“Where did you go?” I whisper, pulling back and wiping my face. “Your house is empty!”

“Endeavor saved us from my dad, Ichan! Endeavor’s real! Like…really real!” Keigo exclaims, holding out his Endeavor doll. “He helped us get away from Dad!”

“Yeah, and now we’re homeless, Keigo.” His mother scoffs, turning her head away. “We have nothing. Nothing to eat, nowhere to stay. Why do you have those feathers if you’re not gonna use them?”

 Keigo and I look between each other and then his mom. We remain silent. I turn back to the train to make sure my mom hasn’t come back for me yet. 

She’s going to be so angry.

“Where’s your mom, Ichan?”

“I hid from her so I could say hi.” I admit, rocking back and forth on my feet. “Is this where you’re staying?”

“For now, yeah. We move around Fukuoka to find places to stay warm or get food.” He pauses to look behind me before he adds. “You’re not gonna get in trouble are you?”

“Probably. But it’s okay. Maybe…maybe if I talk to my mommy you could stay with us! And then you wouldn’t have to look for food or blankets!” I offer.

“No way, kid.” Keigo’s mom snaps. “I’m not staying somewhere with another brat to take care of and a stranger. Get lost.”

I open my mouth to disagree, but Keigo’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. He uses a feather to turn me around.

“Ichijiku Aoki!” My mom snatches me by the front of my shirt as I flinch back with scrunched eyes. “What on earth did you think you were doing? What if I hadn’t found you? Now those bastards are looking into the custody case on the grounds that I’m not a competent parent. Get your ass back on that train!”

The following pop on my butt burns, but not as much as it burns to wave goodbye to Keigo.

. . . . .

“Pardon me, ma’am. Is your daughter home?”

“My daughter? What is this about? I’ve been getting her packed to move in with her father, you bastards. Why are you here?”

I peek around the corner of the dining table as I see men in black suits talking with Mommy. My stuffed tiger stays squished against my chest as I watch them.

“Ma’am, I’m afraid you’re mistaken. We’re not here to take your daughter. We’re here because a friend of hers would like to say goodbye.”

“Who?”

When Keigo comes into view, I gasp and pop out of my hiding spot, running over to him. This time, he’s the one that pulls me against his chest.

“Did you come over to play, Keigo? I’ve got–”

“I’m sorry, young lady, but he’s not here to play. He’s here to tell you goodbye. He won’t be speaking to you anymore.” A man behind him says.

Keigo stands there with his feathers looking sad. They drag on the ground as he tilts his head down.

“He…” I look at Keigo. “I won’t get to see you again? Never ever?” 

“Not never ever!” He says confidently, lifting his head. “Just…not for a long time. It’s like Hide and Seek. But this time, I’ll be the one to find you.”

“You pinky promise?” I ask, holding out a small digit while my eyes burn. Sticky tears dry on my face before he ever leaves, before he ever links his finger with mine.

“Pinky promise.”

. . . . .

“That was years ago, Sacchan, I doubt he remembers who I am.” I whisper to her over a crowd of fawning girls.

Years following Keigo’s abrupt removal from my life, I’ve walked the streets every day hoping for a glimpse of red feathers. By the time Hawks made his debut, I’d all but given up hope in ever seeing him again.

But now? Seeing the familiar floating feathers and the swarm of fangirls on a morning stroll with Sayuri could only mean one thing.

“There’s no way he’d forget you, Ichan! It sounds like you were his only friend as a kid. You don’t just forget that.” She presses, urging me forward against the claustrophobic hoard of warm bodies. “At least say hi. Don’t pass up the opportunity to meet #3!” 

At her insistence, I worm my way through the crowd; people scream his name and reach for his feathers. I know I have no shot, but I still raise my hand to get his attention when he looks in my direction.

Immediately, our eyes lock.

“Ichan!” His eyes widen and he surges forward, rendering me frozen. “Hey! Ichijiku, yeah?”

“Y-Yes. You…remember me?”

“Definitely! I told you I’d find you again, didn’t I? I’d know your face anywhere.” He smirks, red feathers circling around me. “Remember these?” How do I tell him that my every waking moment has been filled with the hope of seeing them again? That every thought in my mind has been tainted with his promise, with his smile?

“I do.” I grin, giggling as they tickle my face. “Did you ever figure out if you could fly?” I taunt.

“Haha! Sure did! Turns out you had the right idea.” His laughter settles in my bones and heals every ache. When he leans in close to me, the smell of springtime and cologne invades my nostrils as he whispers in my ear. “Meet me on the roof of this building in two hours.”

“Okay.” I breathe, exhibiting maximum self-control to keep from reaching for him when he pulls back.

“We’ve gotta catch up sometime!” He beams.

“For sure.” I nod.

As I’m shoved back into Sayuri’s side by the thronging mob, she gives me a knowing smirk while I pinch myself to see if I’m stuck in a dream.

“Told you he’d remember.”

“Shut up.” I flush. “We need to finish shopping quickly; I’m busy in 2 hours.”

. . . . .

Between my attention span and restless limbs, I simply can’t wait. I’m reclining on the roof well before the time I’m supposed to show up. For one lonely hour, I bond with the sky, voicing my insecurities and long-lost desires to the clouds as I gaze over the streets of Japan. 

“Breathtaking.” Keigo’s voice ricochets through every muscle.

“Y-Yeah.” I squeak, hopping onto my feet and rubbing the back of my neck. “I don’t often get a view of the city from this high up.”

He chuckles, warm and inviting, as he steps within arm’s reach of me. “I wasn’t talking about the city, Ichan.”

I don’t have time for this. I can’t have time for this. The feeling of home that saturates every limb with this bittersweet reunion clashes with the reminder that a year ago I’d given up hope. I’d given up hope and decided to try and move past my age-old crush on a childhood friend that I’d never see again.

Now, here he is.

And the man waiting for me at home is not Keigo.

Yet, here I am. I am on top of a building looking out over Japan with Keigo. He thinks I’m breathtaking. And even though I know Akuma should be getting off work in a few minutes and heading to the apartment, my temperature skyrockets as I laugh off the giddy feelings building in my bones. 

“You grew into a charmer, I see.” I nudge him. “At any rate, it’s really good to see you again, Keigo.”

“Hawks, please. At least in public. My real name has been scrubbed from existence.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been looking for you since I became a hero, you know? I promised I’d find you, and I never forgot about you.”

“I never forgot you either, Birdie.” With every inhale, I get minutely closer to him until our arms touch. “I’ve missed you. I was starting to worry I’d never see you again.”

He envelops me in his arms and holds me against his chest. The warmth of his aviator’s jacket mingles with the heat of longing I’ve smothered over the years. 

“How have you been?” I ask.

“Busy.” Keigo loses a bit of his smile as he pulls back. “Being #3 calls for a lot of work. It’s exhausting.”

“I can imagine.” I peer up at him and focus hard so I don’t get lost in him. His smile. His eyes. His broad wings surrounding the two of us in our own little bubble. “You do an amazing job, for what it’s worth. I’m grateful for all the hard work you put in for everyone.”

“Heart of gold, just like I remember.” He pauses. “What have you been up to, then, Tiger?”

“Ugh…I’d hoped you’d forget that nickname.”

“Aw, come on! I’d never forget our first hero names. Tiger and Birdie fight for justice, remember?”

“Yeah.” I reminisce. “But I’m working at a local bookshop now. I’ve always enjoyed books. Being surrounded by them all day brings me a sense of peace that I’ve only ever found with you.” I turn away from him, facing the bustling view of the city.

“Nice! Following your dreams, yeah? Which bookshop do you work at? Which part of town?”

I stiffen and his feathers vibrate. 

“Honshiro, it’s a second-hand bookstore in downtown Kamino Ward.” I try to evade. “I’m also–”

“Woah, wait. You live over there?!” His wings stretch wide, large and captivating. “But it’s so dangerous over there! Why are you staying there, of all places? Why not further east where the neighborhood is safer? Isn’t there a Honshiro there, too?”

“Well, yeah. But, I mean, ideally we would have stayed in Fukuoka, but Akuma had a better work deal downtown.”

“Akuma?” Keigo’s feathers twitch and his eyes glow. “Who’s he?”

I look down, feeling my world crashing around me. What if I’d just waited? What if I had held out hope that Keigo would come back for me? Would I be living better than I am now? Would I be happier?

Would Keigo be mine?

“Akuma is my boyfriend.”

“Oh…” I don’t miss the way his wings droop. “Right. But, well, you can’t stay there. That place is crawling with villains. Fukuoka is my agency’s base of operations. You’d be safest there. I mean, even Kumamoto would have you in Ms. Joke’s territory.”

“I know, Birdie, but I can’t.” I sigh. “Akuma’s on the brink of a really big promotion. We’ll only be in Kamino Ward for a couple months tops. I’ll ask him what his position will be and if we can go somewhere safer, okay?”

“A couple of months?” He frowns before it melts into a little smile. “Well, I guess that’s better than nothing. But do me a favor and talk with him about it sooner rather than later…please? See if he can afford to move somewhere else.” “Hawks…” I sigh. “I really want to, but Akuma has a really good proposition there.”

“Is it a good proposition for you, though?” “Why does it matter so much to you, Birdie?” The distance between us suffocates me.

Silence stretches between us as he extends a gloved hand out to me. His lips part to say something before he clenches his hand into a fist and drops it to his side.

I deserve the pit. I deserve the lowest circle of hell. Because at that moment, I would do anything to make him reach out again and tell me he loves me.

“We both lived through similar childhoods. I was given an opportunity to be freed of it. I just want the same for you.”

“I know. I appreciate that you still care about me after all this time.” I look up at him, begging him with my expression to be mine even though I shouldn’t. He’s busy looking over the city, the collar of his jacket hiding his expression. “Can we keep in touch, then? If you give me your number, I can at least promise to call you anytime I think I’m in trouble.”

“Deal.” He taps his phone against mine and our contact information is swapped. “Promise me you’ll call me the second you’re in trouble.”

I hold out my pinky for him as a grin twitches on my lips. “Pinky promise.”

And with a crooked grin, he links his pinky in mine.

Want More Hawks? Try: Elysium

[alexblakeisgay]

If You're Gonna Love Me, Love Me Like an Outlaw

Ship: Ian Doyle/Emily Prentiss

Summary: Sometimes, Emily wonders whether all this was worth it, whether giving up her entire life to be by Ian's side made any sense at all. She doesn't wonder often, though.

Warnings: None Apply

Word Count: 1028

Author's Note: This was written for the @cmgiftexchange for the lovely @pagetprentissishot - I hope you like it, friend!

Emily stood on the balcony of their little hut overlooking the turquoise waters, arms wrapped tightly around herself, keeping the light shawl she wore wrapped around her shoulders from blowing in the slight breeze.

She didn't hear Ian approach behind her until he'd wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. "What's on your mind, Love?" he asked in a whisper, then dropped a kiss below her ear.

"It doesn't feel like Christmas," she said with a slight shrug, jostling his chin.

"The lack of snow?" he guessed.

She shook her head, but didn't comment on the matter for long enough that he wasn't sure he was going to...but eventually, she simply repeated. "It doesn't feel like Christmas."

The moon hung full and low in the sky, casting a golden shimmer on the water below them. It was one of the things she liked best about their little hidey-hole: the brilliance of the night sky. When she'd moved around as a child, she'd liked to look up at the stars and find the familiar constellations and it helped her feel like at least one thing in life remained constant amidst the chaos.

She tilted her head back to stare up at the sky. Almost immediately, she felt Ian trailing his lips along her carotid, knowing he could smell the blood thrumming beneath her skin. "Don't get any bright ideas," she warned.

He chuckled darkly. "One of these days, you are going to let me turn you..." he said, that smugly confident way about him he always seemed to have whenever the topic came up, as it invariably did.

She didn't dignify his confidence with a reply. She never did.

"You know you don't have to do this, right?" he said at length, uncharacteristically quiet.

"Do what?" she asked in that way she often had where he couldn't quite be certain whether she was being intentionally obtuse or whether she genuinely didn't know.

"Stay here. With me."

That had her attention... She turned sharply in his his arms to fix him with a look somewhere near disbelief.

He continued on undeterred, "You can leave. Tell everyone I kidnapped you, held you against your will. Make up any story you like. You don't have to sacrifice everything for my sake."

"It's not a sacrifice," she insisted vehemently, almost furiously. "I'm not here because I think I have to be."

"But..."

"No, Ian!" she hissed. "Your thrall might be good, but it's not that good," she added sardonically.

He barked out a laugh. "Sarcastic little shit," he muttered, but there was no heat behind it.

She rolled her eyes. She'd known it wouldn't be easy, wouldn't always be smooth sailing when she'd confessed everything to Ian. She'd known she would probably end up staring down the barrel of a gun, counting the remaining second of her life. What she hadn't expected, though...

He'd pulled from his safe three passports he'd had made for himself, her, and Declan. New names, new identities. They'd packed up all the irreplaceable possessions and travelled to the Maldives where they didn't extradite. No questions asked.

(Of course, she did eventually ask questions... Namely, why? Because he was Ian fucking Doyle, afterall...and Ian Doyle had a notorious reputation for rooting out and ruthlessly killing every single undercover operative sent in to bring his arms-dealing empire down, so why, then would decide not to kill her when she confessed to being exactly that?)

(His answer was simply that he believed her when she said she loved him. She'd scoffed, of course, because love can be faked... You're not that good an actress, Emily, he'd said, emphasis strong on her real name as it fell from his tongue for the first time.)

Those memories were floating forefront in her mind as she fixed him with her most deadly serious stare and said, "I gave up everything for you, Ian. Not because I was in any way forced, but because there is literally nothing in my life worth going back to."

"What about your family?" he protested, though it was an admittedly weak protest.

"You and Declan are my family," she murmured, softer now, but no less firm in her insistence. "The only family that means anything at all to me."

He grinned, a hint of fang peeking out. "You forgot someone..."

She raised a brow, confused.

He pressed a palm to her stomach, a pointed look on his face that clearly told her the jig was up. "You really thought you could keep a secret from me?"

"What gave it away?" Emily asked, a little pout on her lips at her little surprise being ruined. She'd thought she was being sneaky...between the lack of morning sickness and her still slender frame.

"I can hear the heartbeat," he said, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Smug bastard," she muttered, also without any heat. "That was supposed to be your Christmas present."

He laughed heartily. He pulled her in for another kiss, this one more heated than the last, his hand drifting from her hip to cup her ass, coaxing a pleased hum from her lips. "I can think of something else you could give me..." he said when he pulled back, brows waggling suggestively.

Rolling her eyes, she said, "If you'll recall, I already gave you that gift last night..."

"I didn't realize it was a limited time offer," he said dryly, though they both knew he was only teasing.

With a sarcastic laugh, she said, "And people think you're not charming..."

"Who said that?"

Rather than reply to the smart remark – which was mostly rhetorical anyway – she shot him a wicked grin as she pulled her nightgown over her head and tossed it aside before diving into the ocean, clearly expecting him to follow.

Ian, of course, would follow a gorgeous naked woman just about anywhere...especially when she wore an expression promising mischief.

[ladyantiheroine]

The Things I Do For Gotham

Summary: When Nightwing finds himself in a bind, he makes Harley an offer she can't refuse.

Pairing: Nightwing x Harley Quinn

Requested by @exhausted-electron (and me)

Tags: Riding, vaginal sex, bondage

Author's Note: Rewriting The Scene™ from Batman and Harley Quinn to make it more consensual (and smuttier).

—————————————————————————

"I know, I know, freakin' stupid. Bringing him back to my place."

Nightwing's eyes fluttered open as a female voice stirred him from his sleep. His mind was foggy and his whole body ached. The memories of what happened came back to him slowly. He tracked down Harley Quinn. They got into a scuffle in the alleyway. And then...

God damn Joker venom, he thought.

"But what was I supposed to do? I couldn't just let him go."

Nightwing's vision adjusted to the light. He was in a bedroom. A cheap, decrepit one. He tried to move, but his arms and legs were bound. He glanced down and saw thick rolls of duct tape binding his ankles and wrists to the bedpost, leaving him spread-eagle on the dirty mattress.

Harley was pacing the room, still dressed in her uniform from Super Babes.

"He knows the secret location of my hidey-hole," Harley continued to talk to herself. "He'd blab to Batman for sure. Could've just killed him, dumbass!"

She stood with her back to him.

"Nah, I'm not a criminal anymore," Harley said, softer this time. "Plus, he's kind of too cute to kill."

Nightwing tried to ignore the way those last words made his face flush and tried to pull himself from his restraints. Whatever tape Harley used, it was fucking unbreakable.

“Anyway, maybe I should help out,” Harley continued. “Sounds like Ivy could be in some serious trouble—”

The wooden bedpost groaned against Nightwing’s pulls. Harley heard it and glanced over her shoulder.

“Don’t bother yellin’ for help,” she said. “This dump is condemned. Nobody in the whole building but us, Nightwig.”

Nightwing stopped struggling and glared at her.

“Wing,” he said.

“Heh?”

“It’s Night-Wing.”

“Really?” Harley raised an eyebrow. “Heh, guess I was thinking of that goofy mullet you used to have. Yeesh, that was like a whole decade of bad hair days.”

“Sticks and stones, lady,” Nightwing quipped. “I’ve taken trash talk from bigger criminals than you.”

“Criminals?!” Harley snapped. “If you haven’t noticed, I went straight. I’m a freakin’ waitress already.”

“Oh golly, that’s right,” Nightwing said, his words dripping with sarcasm. “I stand corrected.”

Harley fumed and stomped over to her desk. She grabbed a tall stack of papers and brought them over to Nightwing.

“Check this out, smart guy,” she said. “My pile of rejection letters. Evidently, the Mayo Clinic’s got some dumb policy of not hiring former costumed supervillains.” She sifted through the stack on her arms. “Just like every other hospital in the world.”

Nightwing opened his mouth to retort but then closed it. She had a point.

“There are…other jobs…” was all he could muster.

“Oh, sure,” Harley said. “I got a ton of offers.” She fished one document from the pile and read from it. “We’ve got a very special role for you in Bad Girls After Dark.” She found another one. “And you gotta love this one. ‘A tasteful pictorial to be shot in Thailand for legal reasons.”

Nightwing listened and, he had to admit, he felt for her. Harley used to be one of the most brilliant psychiatrists in Gotham, but then threw it all away to follow some asshole who saw her as a pawn more than a person. Now, she had to serve beers to more assholes just to pay rent.

God, he actually felt sorry for Harley Freaking Quinn.

“You say I’m a criminal,” Harley said. “They saw I’m a hoo-re.” She threw the stack down, papers flying across the floor. “Well, I’m sick of other people telling me what I am.”

A cold, heavy silence filled the room. Nightwing felt something he didn’t expect to ever feel for Harley Quinn: He wanted to comfort her. Tell her it would be fine, even though she’d tell him he was full of shit.

"Whateva," Harley said. She flicked her eyes over to him and smirked. "Gotta say, you gave me a heck of a workout."

Nighting tried to fight the red threatening to fill his face.

"Got me all sweat-stinky," she said. Harley sniffed her armpit. "Phew! Definitely could use a shower."

Then, she unzipped the front of her dress and stepped out. Nightwing stomach bolted. He knew Harley wasn't shy about that stuff, but it still threw him off guard.

Nightwing always knew Harley was attractive. Most female villains in Gotham were. But Harley in particular caught his eyes. He had the thought more than once that if he met Harley in some other circumstances, if she was some civilian girl he met at a bar, he would have let her take him home for some fun.

Now, he had a schoolboy crush on the girl that knocked his head in.

Meanwhile, Harley started talking to herself again. She stripped down to a white bra and panties and sauntered to the closet.

"I think better when I don't reek," she said. "Still gotta figure out what to do about Nightwig over there."

Harley began sifting through her closet. Nightwing was did-eyed and he felt a hot bulge form in his suit. No, this was insane. Harley was a criminal. A criminal who knocked him out and tied him off. This was not the time for his body to be playing tricks on him.

Maybe it was the Joker venom, maybe he'd been knocked too many times in the head, maybe it was the infuriating boner burning between his legs.

But Nightwing had an idea.

"Hey, Nightwing," Harley said, plucking a dress from her closet. "Is it true you used to be Robin?" She glanced at him with a smirk. "Huh, ain't that a kick in the pants? Little Boy Wonda all grown up."

Fuck it. It was now or never.

"Harley," Nightwing said. "About Poison Ivy..."

"I said I'm not interested."

"I know, but listen." He sucked in and released a breath. "What if I could...incentivize you?"

"Incentivize me?" Harley said. "How you reckon?"

"I'll admit, I don't know if I can help your..." He glanced around the crumbling room. "...situation. But Ivy is your friend, and that should be enough for us to put aside our differences just this once. And if you need a little something more to sweeten the pot..." He bit his lip. "Maybe there's something I can offer you...right now."

Harley was smart. It took only a second for her to connect the dots. Her mouth made an "O" shape and she raised an eyebrow.

"Really?" she said. Her eyes trailed down his body. "You're offering me a ride for my help?"

"If that's what it takes," Nightwing said.

Harley twisted her red lips in consideration. She dropped the dress she was holding on the back of a chair and sauntered over. She clasped a hand on top of his knee, and smoothed her hand down his thigh.

Nightwing visibly shivered. His cheeks were burning hot and his boner wasn't much better. Harley's long nail sent a tease of pain through the fabric of his suit.

Her hands spider-crawled down his inner thighs and clasped his junk. Nightwing hissed, from pain or pleasure he couldn't tell.

"Seem awfully excited," Harley teased. She leaned her face close to his. "Are you sure this is for me, or for you?"

Nightwing whimpered. He didn't even remember why he was doing this anymore. He just wanted Harley to touch him more and more and more...

"Are you interested or not?" he asked.

"Hmmm..."

Harley fingered Nightwing's crotch as he thought. Her fingers traced his length over the fabric and Nightwing had to clench his jaw to keep himself from moaning.

"I think you've got a deal, Nightbutt," she said. She crawled onto the bed and straddled him. "Just one condition—the restraints stay on."

Nightwing's cock was screaming beneath her. He wanted to touch her, but he felt no desire to rip the tape binding his limbs.

"Whatever you say," he said.

A wicked smile crossed Harley's face. She trailed her fingers down Nighting's torso, sending an electric shiver through him.

"Question, Wig," she said. "Do you have a spare suit?"

The question threw him off a moment.

"Uh, yeah," he said. "Batman and I both have spare suits in the Batmobile. What do as—"

Before he could finish, Harley crawled onto the bed and straddled him. She pulled something out of the bedside drawer and flipped it open to reveal a switchblade.

"Harley," Nightwing yelped. "What the fu—"

Harley pulled the fabric of Nightwing's suit down at the crotch, and with one slash of the knife, she tore through it. A ripped hole in the suit revealed his boxers and his erection sprang out.

"Boy Wonder grown up indeed," she purred. She cut open his boxers and an icy breeze hit Nightwing's burning cock.

Harley shut the switchblade and tossed it on the floor. Then, she hooked her thumbs into the side of her panties and slowly pulled them down. Nightwing started drooling as he caught a glimpse of her wet, bare pussy.

"You're a pretty little doll," Harley said, tossing her underwear aside. "I always kind of hoped I'd get a chance to taste ya."

Nightwing gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Same to you," he said.

Harley smirked. She gathered Nightwing's dick in her hand and slowly started stroking it.

Nightwing lost it. He released a long, shuddering moan and jerked his hips up. Harley smirked in amusement.

"What's wrong, baby?" she cooed. "Wet me for me, already?"

"Fuck...fuck...fuck," he moaned. "Harley...."

"Hm?"

"I gotta..."

"You gotta what? Use your words, baby."

"Please...please fuck me..."

Harley gave him an evil smile.

"So no more," she said.

She lifted herself up and slowly lowered herself onto Dick's cock. God, she was tight and wet and steaming hot. Nightwing hissed between his teeth, his body clenching and pulling against the duct tape.

“Mmmmm, that’s good,” Harley purred, licking her lips. “You’re wasting this good body of yours on fightin’, tush.”

She began swerving her hips, slowly, savoring each wave of pleasure. Nightwing’s brain turned to soup and his hips bucked to meet hers. He was sweating buckets under his suit.

The more he whimpered, the harder Harley went. She relished hearing Batman's sidekick turn into a blubbering mess beneath her. She sunk her nails into his shoulders and fucked him deeper into the mattress. The bed frame sang under their weight.

"Fuck, Harley..." Nightwing groaned. "I...I'm..."

Harley covered his mouth with her hand.

"Uh-uh," she said. She was out of breath and her voice was a sultry wisp. "Me first, baby bird."

She jerked her hips, faster, more viciously. Harley tipped her head back, her pigtails falling down her back as an orgasm crawled up her body.

"Good boy," she breathed as she came down from her climax.

Then, she dropped her head and started railing him harder into the bed. She wanted to see Boy Wonder come undone beneath her, reduce him to a puddle.

And he did. Nightwing's hips bucked and his moans grew louder and more desperate and when he came he arched his neck backward in a hungry groan.

Harley slowed to stop until every drop of Nightwing was gone. He was a sweaty mess beneath her, red in the face, and not quite believing what had just happened.

Harley took a deep breath and grabbed his chin.

"You're cute when you cum," she said with a smirk.

She pulled herself off of Nightwing, leaving his abused cock cold and limp. She slipped off the bed and picked up the switchblade off the floor.

"Deal's a deal, nightbutt," she said.

She cut the duct tape binding Nightwing's body and he threw his feet over the edge of the bed.

"So, you'll help Batman and I find Ivy?"

Harley shrugged as she opened the drawer of her desk.

"Sure," she said. "I got nothin' better to do tonight."

She dropped the switchblade into the drawer and closed it. She sauntered over to Nightwing and looked him up and down.

"Sorry about the Joker venom," she said. "And the tape. And the suit. And the...well, you get it."

Nightwing shrugged.

"Can't say I wouldn't do the same if I were you," he said.

Then, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against her stomach. Harley chuckled and pet her fingers into his inky black hair.

"All goes well," she said. "Let's celebrate at your place next time, eh?"

Nightwing grinned into her stomach.

"You've got a deal."

[xxreader-writerxx]

Perfect

A/N: Alright I've come out of my hidey hole. I know you missed me ;) Anyways enjoy my perfect flowers.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader (not yet dating)

Warnings: Nothing really. Just pure fluff.

Summary: Remus wants to preparefor your birthday but struggles to be perfect.

Word Count: 1.5k

It was a bright, sunny day as I walked across the courtyard. I giggle as a rogue pygmy-puff dashes across my feet. The fluffy hair tickling my ankles above my black shoes. I tuck my books into my bag because all my classes are done for the day. Scanning the yard for my favorite boys and snicker at the sight. Sirius tries to flirt with some Gryffindors and James ruins it by magically mocking him. I walk over and Peter pulls me into a hug.

“Finally someone to help me with these idiots.” He jokes into my ear quietly. I cover my smile and lightly hit his chest. My face morphs into a slight frown when I realize Remus isn’t with the boys. “And when I finally made the shot I could feel the rush- Yes darling?” Sirius asks when he feels the tap on his shoulder. “Where’s Rem?” I asked him since they were together last. “Oh last I remember he was skipping off to our dorm. Saying he had something to do.” He tells me and I kiss his cheek. “Thank you pads.” 

I giggle as he starts to rush an explanation to the Gryffindors in front of him, blushing furiously. I make my way inside. I smell what the elves are making for dinner waft through the hallways as I pass the painting to the kitchen. There are traces of mushrooms, steak, and bread in the air that could make any stomach growl. The best part of Hogwarts is that even the non-magical things that even muggles could do become magical just by default.

Fingers dragging along the cool stone walls, the bumps of the pillars halting them from time to time. The castle is warm but somehow the walls themselves have a type of independence, choosing to have a cool temperature that could save you from the day’s heat. The wallpaper of the walls goes all the way to the ceiling, delicate designs most likely made by fairies. The hallway is full of quiet chattering, footsteps, and laughter. Some students having clubs rush past to make it on time, others not having a care in the world letting time fly during the free time they have.

The fat lady comes into view, singing her famous “operatic” melody that might not break glass but certainly can burst an eardrum. Her pink dress ruffled looking like she’s been running around, most likely searching for an unwilling audience. “Password?” Her cultured voice sings and I nod. I tell her the password and the painting opens to show the common room.

The common room always smells of firewood and old books. A fire is crackling underneath a painting of an old man. I was half expecting to see messy brown curls tucked into the red sofa but it was completely empty besides a cozy blanket and pillows. Huffing, I look at the staircase that leads to the boy’s dorms and begin my journey. Posters scattering every other door, some muggle sports and some wizarding. The seeker of the Irish team winked at me as I passed by, making me a bit shy. He was always a flirt, making the boys I often have by my side huff about how he wasn’t all that charming.

Finally making it to the door I was looking for I raise my fist to knock but pause at the sounds inside. There’s crashing and rummaging like someone was looting around. Folding my hand around my wand I whisper “Alohomora,” there's a click signifying the lock opening and I turn the door knob. Opening the door quietly, hoping to not let any possible intruder know someone was entering. Instead of a burglar all I see is a cluttered room with a messy Remus in the middle of all the clutter. “Where is that damned thing?” He mutters to himself as he throws a shirt behind him, unknowingly landing on me.

I begin to pick up around the room, folding jerseys, putting trinkets back into their designated shelves, and other things as I slowly walk up to him. I place the folded clothes on Jame’s bed and place my hands softly on his shoulders and go on my tippy toes. “What are you looking for Remus?” I softly question and his shoulders relax for a second before they stiffen.

He flips around and I nearly fall if it wasn’t for him being there. He holds my wrists softly looking down at me. “What are you doing here?” He questions and I bite my lip. It does seem a bit strange that I welcomed myself into his dorm room unannounced. It’s normal for me when all the boys are in here but never when only one is inside. My face heats and I place my heels back on the ground. “Oh um- I’m sorry. I just- and you were-” I stutter and he smirks at me. “I’m not upset darling, I just wish it wasn’t a whole mess for you.” he tells me.

He looks behind him, still not breaking contact, using one of his hands to shuffle the mess on the table. He finally finds what he was looking for and takes his wand. “Scourgify.” He casts with a whip of his wand. The room around us starts to put itself away, as if an invisible maid or butler was making their rounds. He walks with me over to his side of the room and I notice that his foot is kicking a box under his bed. I quirk my brow and lean down grabbing the package. 

“No don’t-” He sighs, pinching his brow “...do that.” Looking at the package I smile. “Oh Remmy…” I gasp, placing my hand at my chest. “I- I was trying to wrap it for your birthday but… but-” He groans, flopping on his bed. “No one ever taught me how to wrap presents.” He whispers under his hands. My fingers trace the broken parcel around the present. There’s strips of tape trying to hold it together and the brown parcel is crumbled with a string holding it in place. “Oh Remus, how did you know?” I ask, feeling tears prick at my lashes. “Well I overheard you saying that you didn’t care much for your birthday and I- I couldn’t bear the thought. I also noticed whenever we were heading to the Broomstick how you eyed this. I scrounged some money together and bought it.” He blurts out and I climb next to him on the bed.

Lightly peeling his hands from his face, I smile at him softly. “Why are you so stressed? I love it, Remmy…” I tell him and his face stays solemn. “I wanted to make sure it was perfect, now I spoiled it and it’s all messy…” He frowns and I lay my hand on his chest, tracing small pictures across it. “Remus, it’s already perfect because you made it. You could’ve gotten me a stink bomb and I would’ve loved it.” I tell him and he holds my hand, squeezing it. “But it’s not. It’s all torn and I can’t find another roll of parcel.” He complains and I giggle. I raise my wand and wink. “Acio roll of parcel.” I smirk and he groans slightly laughing. “I didn’t think of that.” He mumbles and I reach out for the parcel floating towards us.

I pull him to sit on the ground with me. I reach for a box similar in size and he raises an eyebrow. “What’s this?” He asks and I shrug. “I’ll teach you.” I whisper and he wipes under his eyes though they are mostly dry. “Ok…” He whispers back and we get started. 

“So, I fold it like this… And how do I tape it without it unfolding?” He asks, holding down the triangle he just made. “Well you are a beginner and that is a high level move…” I joke and he rolls his eyes. “Here I’ll help you this time.” I say and quickly jut my hand out to take his place. My fingers graze the back of his hand and I jerk it back for a second. My face heats up in an instant and I place my hand back. “Ok…” He says, looking up at me. His nose nearly meets mine and we lock eyes. “You- You can tape it now.” I mutter, his hand unmoving. He makes a small noise agreeing but still doesn’t move his hand. “Your eyes always take my breath away…” He mutters under his breath and I gulp. So quickly I question if it even happened his chin moves closer, lips almost touching but never making contact.

He moves away and grabs the tape and I stay there amazed. I snap too once he finally tapes the last part and he laughs. “I did it!” He tells me and I nod happily. “I have no idea why you were so worried. I never took you as a perfectionist.” I say and he sighs. “Because it’s for you. I always thought you were the most perfect person I’ve ever met and wanted you to know that…” He admits and I smile. “Remmy…” I sigh, I lean closer only to be interrupted by Sirius barreling into the room. “You completely ruined my chances, you asshole!” He yells and I laugh, hiding behind Remus to dodge the pillows being hurled.