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lazyjellyfish300 · 1 month

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Gentleman 🌼💌

Geneticist!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Intern!Reader

Synopsis: You're a struggling college student who's managed to land a coveted internship at Alchemax in the Genetics department under Dr. Miguel O'Hara. It's no secret that everyone wants him but you managed to catch his eye. Word count 3.4k

A/N: from a suggestion by @miguelzslvtz 🖤 here ya go! My take on a sugar daddy fic with Miguel. If y'all like this enough I'll continue it 🥰 I'm also trying to cook the other ideas that were left on my feedback post I made a little bit ago including a Nerd!Miguel fic and a CEO enemies to lovers eventually ✊🏽 This art by @/blahhberry on Instagram is Dr. O'Hara btw 😏

TW: MINORS DNI, a little angst, food insecurity, financial struggles, a little bit of bullying, jealousy, relationship between manager and subordinate, I don't recommend this IRL , half ass science stuff, I'm no expert 💀

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

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The sharp wind chill in the morning that only lead to a sweltering afternoon began to signal that summer was edging towards the pre autumn season. Miguel took a deep breath in through his nose as he walked down the steps of his grand estate, black Americano in a fancy tumbler in one hand and his phone in the other, listening to his favorite science podcast with wireless earbuds as he smiled and blew one more kiss to Gabi who was waving goodbye on the doorstep next to Conchata.

----

You're running down the florescent halls of the large maze like interior of Alchemax, sweat forming on your forehead and upper lip, flaps of your lab coat floating away from your body like a mad scientist. You're a whooping 40 minutes late for your first day of your genetics internship. Not how you wanted this morning to go at all, simply because you decided to "rest your eyes" five minutes after your alarm went off.

Your outfit you had planned all week didn't look how you envisioned, you had no time to do your hair and makeup, now you were trying not to cry as you prepare yourself mentally to kiss your career goodbye before it even got started.

Miguel is looking over the shoulder of some of the other interns in the lab, quiet tinkling noises of the lab samples placed under glass microscope lenses and hushed voices with quick scribbles of lead pens on lined notebooks. Soft giggles coming from a neighboring group of a few girls from your sorority that were shamelessly gawking at the older, handsome, tall, brawny geneticist with brown eyes, sneaking photos of him when he wasn't looking to fawn over in their respective group chats.

All eyes are on you as you enter the quiet lab, and shamefully shuffle to the only unoccupied table which happens to be in the dead front. A pin drops and your heart sinks to your stomach as you're met with an annoyed stare from your intern supervisor.

Miguel addresses the group he was in the middle of assisting, nodding with a low, "Continue,"

He walks up to your table. Your face burns furiously as you fight back tears, hastily pulling out your notebook, pencils and supplies to get set up. Miguel stops in front of you and you swallow slowly and sniffle as you look your superior in the eye for the first time.

His broad shoulders and tall height give him an aura of seriousness and slight intimidation. His eyes are deep brown and seemingly bottomless, mesmerizing, a hint of softness in them despite everything else about him that portrayed sternness underneath his narrow frame glasses that sat on the bridge of his nose. A shadow of stubble peppers his strong jaw and runs down his thick neck, a very faint streak of grey runs along the corners of his brunette locks. He rolls up the sleeves of his lab coat on his thick forearms, eyes flickering to his clipboard and then back to you.

"Name?" He asks.

Your mouth dries momentarily at the pleasant low timbre of his voice, but you quickly answer, hoping your first impression isn't completely unsalvageable at this point.

He nods and shifts a microscope towards you, along with your lab sample testing kits. "Since everyone else is already partnered up, I will be your partner for this first project." He clicks his pen, stowing it gracefully in his lab coat breast pocket, swiftly unloading the samples from the kit onto the table, prepping them.

"Firstly, I am Dr. O'Hara. I'm the head intern supervisor for the Genetics department at Alchemax. Today, we are identifying and labeling these samples in various stages of cell division for my research groups that I oversee." He explains. "You should be fairly familiar with these, correct?"

You feel the heat but you nod enthusiastically, determined to turn this day around and prove him wrong and show him that you're just as deserving to be here as anyone else; you just had a stroke of bad luck. You eagerly take over and adjust the microscope lense for the first sample and bring your eye to it, squinting and then quickly writing down the label in your notebook for the first sample: "That's...anaphase." You state confidently.

Miguel looks at you while you write, leaning towards you a little bit and shifting the microscope closer to him, a faint whiff of his scent rolling off his arms for a brief moment, catching you off guard. He looks into the microscope without a word then nods, the corners of his eyes softening, removing the annoyed glare they held earlier when he first looked at you. "That's right." He affirms.

Another hour passes, and you both manage to complete all of the samples you were assigned in the nick of time, wrapping up the final sample two minutes after the internship was due to end, just a tad late due to the delayed start you got compared to your fellow lab mates.

As you worked, Miguel took note of how you seemed to work slower than the others, yet you were more cautious. You were meticulous and a bit of a perfectionist, taking lots of time to ponder and even verify anything you weren't sure of by asking Miguel and following up with any additional questions you had that were spawned as a result. He liked that you were thoughtful and inquisitive. You were humble and demonstrated you could work hard to get things done.

As you hastily packed your bag, closing it with a loud zip, Miguel cleared his throat. "Well done today... I'm impressed you could manage to complete the same work load as your colleagues, despite having less time to do it."

"Oh-thank you, sir." You nod, giving him a modest smile. "I try to work hard at what I do."

"It shows." He nods, removing his thin glasses and hanging them on the front of his shirt, the weight of the glasses barely tugging his shirt down, revealing a little more of his neck, accentuating his broad chest. "Just, do not be late again.....ever, okay?" He looks at you sternly, his expression as he waits for your confirmation almost as though he was begging you to keep this promise.

"I won't, Dr..."

"O'Hara."

"Dr. O'Hara." You say confidently, standing up a little taller. "You can count on me." You state firmly.

He nods, the corner of his mouth ever so subtly revealing the ghost of a smile. "Good. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow."

-----

You set nearly 10 consecutive alarms for the next day, waking bright and early to get dressed and do your hair and makeup just how you wanted it.

You let out a deep breath, a comforting smile on your face as you paced yourself down the street, enjoying the morning and much more confident and at peace with yourself knowing you looked good and you weren't going to let Dr. O'Hara down by being late.

Your stroll is interrupted by a loud growl of your stomach. You groan and check your phone. You had plenty of time to grab a small item for breakfast from the bodega on the way. You beeline in the other direction, backtracking momentarily to go satisfy your hunger.

You feel a pit in your stomach when you realize what day it is and rip out your phone, your heart sinking to your chest when you see that $800 withdrawal of your student tuition posted to your checking account. You scroll with a shaky hand, pulling up your calculator and doing the math after two of your other pending transactions went through. You were left with a whooping $7 to your name, and you weren't going to get paid for another week.

Shit...shit...

Normally, you had a handle on your finances, but a couple of emergencies came up where you had to visit the doctor, buy your medicine, and also buy another textbook that one of your professors neglected to mention was required for the class. That, along with your tuition, and maybe a couple more iced coffee runs than you should have left you with barely nothing to survive on until your next payday.

But with the way your stomach is utterly growling right now, you'll just have to find a way to deal with it later. You order your usual breakfast sandwich from the bodega and sprint down the sidewalk, making haste for Alchemax.

-----

Miguel is about to enter the lab, shrugging into his lab coat when he hears chattery whispers coming from behind the door. He stops for a moment when he thought he heard his name, inching closer so as not to reveal his presence, leaning against the door.

You're being interrogated by some of your fellow interns, the group of girls that were oogling Dr. O'Hara the day before and also your fellow sorority members: Heather, Vivian, and Isla. They're pelting you with a million questions a minute, expecting a full report on what it was like working with him yesterday and trying to dig up any information about his personal life.

"Ugh, I wish he would've spent time with our group yesterday instead. No offense, of course," Heather says.

You shrug, going back to writing little notes in your notebook, reviewing your work from yesterday.

"How come you're so quiet?" Vivian prods. "Seriously, you haven't like hung out with us at all and barely talk to us."

"She thinks she's better than us," Heather answers. The group snickers at that.

"No..." You protest, looking down in embarrassment, doing your best to try and shrug off their pestering comments.

"Girl there's no need to deny it, O'Hara had his eyes on you yesterday. He was obsessed." Vivian teases.

Your cheeks get hot as you look back at your notepad. Yes, Dr. O'Hara was easy on the eyes, no denying that. But he would have never thought of you that way in a million years. You were there for an internship, end of story. You had only barely managed to save this opportunity from burning and crashing to the ground a day before.

You knew you'd have to put in double the amount of work as everyone else did to prove yourself. There was simply no time nor room to dwell on how handsome the man was. A dangerous road you knew you needed to stay clear of, no matter how the other girl's comments were starting to get to you, a tiny whisper nudging your ego at the fact that it did seem like he had something of an interest in you.

"Sharing is caring, girl." The group's leader, Isla, pops her gum with a little smirk on her glossy lips. "Next time you get a chance, ask him if he's married and report back to us on what you find out."

Your face heats up. "Are you kidding, you ask him, Isla! The man barely tolerates me. I'm not gonna wind up on his bad side just because you guys want me to be nosy..."

At that very moment, Miguel abruptly enters the lab, taking his place upfront like he normally does, leaving behind a swift cloud of his scent hanging in the air as he brushed past your table, with everyone unaware that he heard every word that was said about him prior to his entrance.

"Good morning." He says in a pleasant tone, addressing the entire group. "We will be doing more sample identifying work today. Why don't we break into the same groups as last time. Since we have an odd number of folks, I'll have you work with me again." He looks directly at you.

You can feel envious pairs of eyes burying themselves into the back of your head as you sit side by side next to Dr. O'Hara again, clicking your pen every once in a while, coloring a black dot into the corner of your paper out of passive boredom while Miguel worked alongside you.

Miguel was slightly turned off by the comments he heard about him from your colleagues, finding the whole exchange unprofessional. He needed focused, dedicated interns who prioritized the work in front of them they needed to get done, not fantasize about him.

Frankly, it put him in an awkward position and he really didn't want to deal with it altogether. He looked at you as you silently labeled and notated one sample after another, barely speaking to him and your eyes locked on your own paper.

"So, what caused you to apply to this internship in the first place?" He asks.

You look at him, caught off guard by the sudden question. "Oh, well I'm going to school for Biology. I'm wanting to apply to med school."

"Really?" Miguel responds. "That's commendable." He goes back to his task, longer moments of silence passing between you two.

You turn around and you notice Isla and the others mouthing something to you. You try to mouth "What?" back to them then Miguel interrupts you, causing you to jump in alarm.

"Hmm, what?"

"I asked, are you here on a scholarship?" Miguel responds nonchalantly, his eyes locked on a sample under the microscope.

"Oh, no I'm not, unfortunately." You fiddle with a button on your lab coat. "I have student loans that I'm trying to pay back."

Miguel hums quietly in response, taking in your answer. "That must be a heavy burden with such an expensive field you're going into."

"Yeah..." You sigh. "It is. Sometimes I have to pick between paying my bills or eating lunch," you joke half-heartedly.

Your stomach growls loudly and you grab your stomach in alarm, hoping he didn't hear it.

Miguel looks at you in his peripheral vision, a slight hint of amusement on his face at the sound, finding it kind of funny that you seemed so embarrassed of a natural bodily process. "Speaking of lunch, sounds like it's getting close to that time... " Miguel remarks casually.

You nervously try to laugh it off, your face still a higher temperature. "Yeah, haha...for sure."

Miguel nods towards the brown paper sack sitting on the table. "Why don't you step out for a moment, have a bite to eat?"

"Oh..um." You try to play it off like you don't want it but Miguel remains unconvinced.

"Go on, I'll take these next few since you did the last three."

Your stomach growls loudly again and you stand up swiftly, not needing anymore convincing to take care of your raging hunger, taking the paper bag with you.

When you step into the hallway, your face utterly falls in disappointment when you realize the bodega gave you the wrong sandwich. It's a Reuben with sauerkraut. Your stomach groans in misery and you go to unwrap the sandwich regardless, hoping your desperation will make it easier to get over your dislike. A wave of nausea hits you at the smell.

You simply can't bring yourself to eat it, and it's time to head back anyway. You try to walk with watery eyes back towards your table with the brown paper bag still in hand, heart in the gutter because your last $7 is gone and you have nothing to eat but disappointment and desperate wishes for better circumstances.

Miguel's eyebrows raise as he watches you swiftly grab your things and leave the room without saying goodbye. Miguel walks back to his desk and notices your brown paper sack sitting there with a little sticky note on it.

"Dr. O'Hara- thank you for your help today."

Miguel frowns and opens the bag, his eyes widening at the sight. Reubens are his favorite. He takes a deep whiff, relishing the smell of the corned beef and melted Swiss with the Russian dressing and sauerkraut. This must have been a sandwich from a bodega because the bread smells and feels like it was baked only a few hours ago. Miguel looks at your handwriting on the note and then back at the door you just walked out of.

He feels a pang of guilt. While he greatly appreciated and relished the unexpected treat, you just gave up your lunch, and based on that comment you made earlier about your loans being so much that you had to choose between your debt and eating, he was starting to get worried about your well-being.

"Lyla? I need y/n's student loan records from the financial department. Have them on my desk in an hour."

"You got it, Migs."

-----

You entered your dorm, trying to hide your tears and dodge interrogation from Heather, Vivian, and Isla.

"Hey, you."

You pause, with a sigh, turning to meet Isla's burning stare. "Yeah?"

"Girl, so...is he married?"

"I didn't ask." You rub your temples.

"Oh my god...you had one job!"

"Look, y'all, I don't mean to be rude. But I just had thee shittiest day of my life and I have no food until next week. Wondering about whether our SUPERVISOR is married or not is not at the top of my list of concerns right now."

The groups looks at one another, taken aback. "Dude...calm down, we were just curious, it's not that deep. So dramatic..." Heather grumbles.

"It's okay y'all, I'm gonna make him fall in love with me, just watch." Vivian jokes.

"No me!" Isla shouts.

The three of them banter back and forth and you turn, huffing towards your room.

"But really wtf does he even see in her? Like why pay attention to the most boring person in the room when we're right there..." Isla mutters once you're out of earshot.

You lay down in bed, too distraught to study and cry yourself to sleep.

-----

Two hours later, your eyes ease open, your pillow slightly wet with drool after a good post-cry nap.

A missed call from your college shows up on your phone.

Confused, you return the call.

"Student Services how can I help you?"

"Hi, I'm a student...I have a missed call from you guys."

"Student ID?"

"27872099"

"Yes...we were calling you back about a credit to your account. It looks like that was fully settled this afternoon, and a refund has been issued back to your checking account that you have linked to your student account."

You blink. "Um, okay...but there was a balance of $10,130.70 this morning, and you guys took out the 850, so...what, there's probably a little over 9k remaining?"

"That was paid in full, along with an additional $1000.00 so actually that extra credit should be refunded to you and posted in 1-2 business days depending on your institution."

Your brow furrows. You look back at your bed then at the ceiling, trying to figure out if you were still sleepy. "Is this some kind of practical joke?"

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, that's ten thousand dollars we're talking about. And you're telling me that all of it was just magically erased this afternoon?"

"I can send you the statement if you would like, ma'am."

"Yes, please. Because something doesn't sound right about all of this."

"Very well...and your email is still valid?"

"Yes. Thank you."

You hang up and pace in your room until the email notification comes through. You blink in disbelief, sitting down on your bed with shaky knees when you see that sure enough, a whooping payment of $11,130.70 was applied.

----

Balance: $10,130.70

Debit card payment ending in xxxxx2099 $11,130.70

Ending balance = $-1,000.00

Credit issued for: $1,000.00 to checking account ending in xxxxxx4890

----

You scoff in sheer disbelief, a feeling of elation rising in your body. At that moment, your doorbell rings.

An annoyed Heather calls you downstairs.

You run to the door, your footsteps shaky under the shock of your debt being erased and becoming one thousand dollars richer in one day, mind still buzzing with the news.

A confused man is waiting at the door with a large bouquet of a gorgeous assortment of roses and daisies and a large bag of takeout from your favorite upscale restaurant, asking for you.

You nod slowly with a raised eyebrow and he hands your goodies over to you. Your mouth falls open at the small card attached to the bouquet, your name etched in silver cursive letters and a small message typed in black lettering.

Thank you for the sandwich and for your diligent work for my department. Enjoy.

- Dr. O'Hara

-----

#Spotify #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel atsv #miguel ohara #miguel fanfic #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 3 months

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Supersons +1 prompt answer

If you asked Danny, 12 year old half-ghost hero of Amity Park, how half-life was going, he'd tell you things were mixed.

On the one hand, he had just spent the last three or four months in family/scientist/'this house is a death trap waiting to happen' therapy with Jazz, and by some miracle, it worked. He wasn't sure if this was some kind of dream as his parents poured over years upon years of research, crossing out lines, rewriting equations, and reevaulating everything they thought they knew about ghosts.

Was the shudders family therapy worth not going over how they'd like to dissect him? he's still not sure. The horror.

Not to mention the attention. Danny was sure he was going to throw up if his parents drag him away for more bonding time, only for a ghost to attack and for him to run off to transform. What made it worse was when the Fentons came barrelling out, guns blazing, alternating between getting mad that he'd interrupted their family time, and asking him questions about "Your suspicious spook culture, if you even have one you dangerous delusional delinquent!"

At least they were trying, but Danny was very much comfortable not spilling the beans on the whole half-ghost situation, thank you very much.

And that's why, when Dad proposed to take him to Gotham to show off their latest invention, he jumped at the chance. The home city of the Batman, one of the greatest heroes known to man (except for Martian Manhunter and Superman of course) and Dad promised to take him to Gotham Observatory too. Not to mention how much he wanted to get away from Jazz's smug looks of superiority. Gotham here he comes!

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

Damian Wayne scowled as he scanned the crowed of scientists with more smarts than sense. Really, a flying toilet seat. For what deviant?

"Maybe they're for people who can fly." Kent piped up beside him. Father had let the two of them run off together, and his company was mildly more appealing than being alone with his thoughts.

"Why would Superman ever need to relieve himself mid-air. I do not believe you would appreciate your father's rear end being on display for all the world to see."

"True." Jon hummed. His voice lowered to a whisper. "You think indecent exposure is what your dad meant by "scoping out any potential future villains?"

Damian gave Jon a flat look. The sooner this convention ended, the better.

The crowded shifted, and the mass of visitors pushed toward a certain corner, where a man large enough to rival Superman's build stood upon a podium, with a boy their age off to the side.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce to you the latest in FentonWorks' innovations, the Fenton Ghost Zone Radar, soon to revolutionise the study of ghosts!"

"I thought ghosts were a magic thing." Jon said. "You know, stuff Constantine and JLD deal with."

"They are."

"Mixing magic and science is like, like, oil and water. No way this guy's serious, is he?"

"His name is Jack Fenton. That's Daniel Fenton, his son." Damian pointed to the boy in question, looking like he'd seen this scene a hundred times before, but with that knowing glint that promised something deeper. "They're normally spotted alongside Jack's wife, Madeline. Widely regarded as quacks by the larger scientific community for chasing paper-thin theories about ghosts, they've nonetheless gained funding from the government. This is the first time they've left their base of operations in Amity Park for years."

"Woah, you know your stuff, Dami!"

Damian glared at the young Superboy in disguise. "I read the briefing files. Didn't you?"

Kent looked uncomfortable and looked away. "Uhh, maybe?"

"Typical."

"Well, if he's so crazy, then why'd your dad even let him in." Upon another scathing glare, Kent relented. "Oh right, the whole supervillain thing."

"Enough chatter. We'll zero in on the younger Fenton. I intend to squeeze him like a grape, and make Father proud."

"Dami maybe you should be a little nicer-" Only for Damian to march off without him.

Honestly, inane niceties were above someone of his status. Those things were Superboy's job, and if Daniel Fenton wouldn't crack, then Damian was itching to try a new torture technique.

@impyssadobsessions

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ew-selfish-art · 1 year

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My brain is unwilling to let go of Twin AU prompts. Sorry for the long post lmao.

Jazz and Jason are getting pretty serious in their relationship, and honestly, they’ve both been hesitant to introduce their family members to one another despite constantly talking about them. They’ve been dating since she started her doctoral studies at Gotham U and she’s about to defend her dissertation, so it really is about time. He saved her in her first week as the Red Hood and he immediately felt at home with her (something, something liminal), she runs into him the next day at a coffee shop and thanks him for taking the time to help her.

Identities are obviously blown. Jason knows that her brother works in ‘politics’ and her younger sister is a travel blogger, and that the three of them don’t talk to her mad scientist parents anymore. Jazz knows that he came back from the dead, his adoptive family had a slew of issues in addition to their hero-complexes and that he would be prepared to kill for any one of his siblings. Their communication skills are top notch.

But then came the issue of actually meeting the family. Like Jazz knows all of the drama between the siblings but could not pick them out of a line up, or more importantly, know who to talk to if an emergency situation came up. Jason agrees, that yeah, it would probably be for the best if he could at least identify her little brother and sister if they had to like, meet at hospital or something.

So that was the plan. Invite just siblings over to their shared apartment, no parents and no fuss. (She even called Danny ahead of time to tell him not to portal straight into the apartment, he needed to walk in the door like a normal person. They could share Ghost King secrets later.)

Tim arrives first, he’d been working a case nearby and Jazz & Jason live pretty close to a nice coffeeshop, so he stopped along the way. He’d done some creeping to figure out that she drinks Chai so he brought one for her. Creepy and yet, endearing.

Ellie comes in second from the window, launching into a story about how annoying it was to find the place with all the gloom, didn’t this city have any respect for the dead? Tim doesn’t get it but Jason is laughing along so Tim files it away for later.

Dick comes in with a shit ton of Pizza he panic ordered, a fruit bouquet and two bottles of wine from Bruce’s cellar. Duke came along with him, a large tupperware of Alfred’s cookies.

Then Steph, Babs and Cass show up, immediately treating Jazz like family while also being hella suspicious about the whole thing. She notices them looking at her hands and Jazz explains that no, they weren’t doing this because Jason proposed. Steph and Cass are annoyed at Jason but tell Jazz she could do better if she wanted. Babs is happy they aren’t rushing into anything (she’s the only one besides Tim that knows how long they’ve been dating- this is just to throw out a red herring for the others)

Everyone is getting along and having a great time, Ellie being a natural entertainer along side Dick, everyone trying to tell embarrassing stories about Jason. Loud noises are coming from the hallway when they realize that neither Damian nor Danny had arrived.

Rushing out the door, the boys are alternating putting each other into choke holds and arguing about not being clones. Danny keeps phasing out of Damian’s grip and Damian keeps pulling out more knives. The hallway looks like it had been blown up and the two are continuing to yell at one another about going to a family dinner. Jason and Jazz just stare at them from the doorway, and wouldn’t you know it, they look like fucking twins.

Jazz grabs Danny, Jason grabs Damian, and everyone is fucking confused. Both sides of the family can confirm growing up with the twins, that neither are a clone. Ellie helpfully supplies that she’s the clone and that opens a whole other bag of chaos.

Eventually they get everyone to sit down for dinner and the night gets weirder from there.

#dc x dp #dc x dp fic #twins au #danny and damian are twins #anger management #jason and jazz just wanted a chill night why is that never possible #Damian and danny have to figure out what the fuck is going on but neither are willing to call their parents to confirm #Damian would rather die than ask talia #Danny would rather die again than ask the drs fenton #They both decide that its fucking weird but if jazz and jason get married they were going to be family anyway #Danny is honestly excited to have a third version of himself around #Damian is willing to be civil for the time being so long as Danny doesn't try to step on any heir related topics #danny phantom #dc universe #dp x dc #dpxdc

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 10 months

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Oh crap. Tim was coming towards him again. Danny squeezed between and behind various other gala attendees in his effort to escape Mr. I-Just-Want-To-Talk for the fourth gala in a row. What was Mr. Drakes problem? Danny honestly didn't know but between running DalvCo which- Danny had rebranded into a new company with a space themed name and slogan- and keeping up with schoolwork and his social life he had little energy left to deal with the Wayne Enterprises CEO

Danny saw a blue suit in the crowd ahead of him and let his shoulders sage in relief. Ever since he inherited Vlads company Mr. Kord had taken him under his wing. He had told him everything about how his parents were mad scientists and how his godfather, Vlad was a supervillian who had become creepily obsessed with him after comparing him frequently to his mother who he had been romantically obsessed with for twenty years.

Danny hadn't told him everything, no one but his friends and sisters knew about his ghost half. But Mr. Kord was the first and only adult he felt he could confide in.

Danny slid in between him and his kinda/maybe boyfriend Michael Carter, both of whom gave him big smiles and welcomed him warmly. Danny looked back at Tim who was glaring at him half heartedly. There was no way the other teen was going to come try to drag him off. Not with how Mr. Kord had scolded him at the last gala.

----

Aka Vlad manages to kill Jack but also accidentally kills Maddie too.

Vlad dies due to reasons and the bats are convinced that Danny did it. Also DalvCo had been involved with countless illegal things and is essentially built on crime (which is one of the reasons Danny needed help so badly) and Ted Kord (Blue Beetle) helped him gain control over the situation after finding Danny crying in a hidden area at a gala and Michael Carter (Booster Gold) has taken up being a "fun uncle" to Danny whenever he gets too overwhelmed.

Tim is either trying to get close to Danny to prove that he's innocent or is just as convinced of his evilness as the others (the second one sounds more fun) also Batman hasn't had his identity exposed to the JL so they don't know who Tim or the other bats are.

Did Vlad die in whatever scheme he made to kill Jack? Did Danny go into a Pit Rage apon finding out Vlad killed his parents and kill him in revenge? Did Vlad fake his death in another hair brainded scheme to get to Danny?

In the meantime Danny is not only making his new business survive, but thrive as well with branches opening up in various cities all over North America and soon one in London.

#dpxdc #fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny phantom #danny fenton #batman #red robin #yum #ted kord #blue beetle #michael carter #booster gold #tim drake #maybe braindead #or dead serious #but later on and very dramatic (i cant be falling for him! hes a supervillian!) of them #danny went to his first gala to ask for businesses advice and got swarmed by high society vultures #yikes yikes yikes

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emeraldspiral · 9 months

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I feel like we don't talk enough about how Gaz is also a victim of Membrane's neglect and how that affects her sibling rivalry with Dib.

Like, I think because Dib is the deuteragonist of the show and Gaz is a supporting character it's easier to focus on analyzing him and everything going on in his life that influences his maladjusted behavior. But not a lot of people talk as much about why Gaz is the way she is. Why are her main emotions apathy and anger? Why is she the only other kid at skool besides Dib and Zim with no friends to hang out with at lunch or recess? Why are her revenges against Dib over things like cereal and pizza so over-the-top? Why does she purposefully try to destroy all human life and then get mad when it doesn't work?

Some of Gaz's behaviors have a pretty clear-cut cause and effect. She and Dib don't get to spend much time with their dad, so she gets upset when Dib's actions threaten their time together. Dib is also selfish and inconsiderate of Gaz, frequently stealing her food or talking her ear off about stuff she doesn't care about and expecting her to take an interest while never asking about her hobbies.

But I think some of her hostility toward Dib and general sour attitude can also be explained by Membrane's unequal treatment.

I've seen elsewhere that some people think Membrane favors Gaz because she's his "normal" child. He actually respects her gaming hobby and doesn't treat it like a phase she needs to grow out of. He doesn't talk down to her or try to push her into giving up something she loves in order to win his approval. Where Dib is constantly arguing with his dad about the legitimacy of his version of science, he and Gaz seem to have an easy rapport free of that kind of tension.

But is Membrane's behavior toward Gaz really a sign of favoritism, or just a different form of neglect?

The main conflict between Dib and Membrane stems from Membrane wanting Dib to be his successor. In Chickenfoot he specifically calls Dib "the future of the Membrane Empire", against Dib's wishes. In Mopiness of Doom, he and Dib finally bond when Dib decides to temporarily give up paranormal science and assist him with "real science". And supposedly, part of Eric Trueheart's clone Dib concept was that Membrane engineered Dib specifically to carry on his legacy.

But all of this begs the question, where does Gaz fit into Membrane's grand designs? Is she just the spare? She's just as smart, if not smarter than Dib, but we never see any indication that Membrane's trying to push her toward a career in science the way he is with Dib. It's one thing for him to not be bothered about her gaming hobby because it's not "disreputable", but there's no indication that Gaz has anymore interest in becoming a "real" scientist than Dib. So does Membrane just assume that since she's never shown any other ambitions she'll just fall straight down the path that's already been laid out for her, or does he just not care what she does with her life because he's only focused on living vicariously through Dib?

We don't know exactly how Membrane views his kids, but it's easy to see how a little girl might come to some pretty negative conclusions about what her status is in her father's eyes. Even if it's not true, Gaz might very well believe that he favors Dib. That despite Dib rejecting the legacy she was never considered for, despite him constantly getting into trouble and being weird and annoying and embarrassing, and putting his stupid hobbies ahead of their family, their dad doesn't give up on him as a lost cause. Even when he has another perfectly good child who mostly behaves herself and stays out of trouble, would never try to upstage him or ruin an important moment for him, who appreciates what little time they have together and would never jeopardize it by running off to play with some stupid alien, and who's just as smart and capable and not a weirdo paranormal-obsessed freak, Membrane still wants Dib to be his successor and not her.

Not only does this add more layers to her contempt for Dib, it could also explain her apathy and misanthropy. If her dad doesn't care about her, why should she care about anything? If he isn't concerned with her future, why should she concern herself with anything other than the immediate gratification of video games and pizza? Her dad and her brother both think their work is so much more important than spending quality time with her or talking about anything other than their "important work" whenever they're together. They both think they're saving the world, but they're either too blindly optimistic or too egotistical to realize that the slack-jawed idiots populating the planet are beyond salvation. But maybe if there was no humanity left for them to save, no heroic ambitions to fulfill, they'd finally treat her like someone worth paying attention too.

#invader zim #gaz #gaz membrane #professor membrane #dib #dib membrane #gaz is just as messed up as dib #her trauma just expresses itself in different ways

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atlafan · 9 months

Text

This is the teacher that kids either love or hate, there’s no in between. Mr. Styles has his quirks, and according to your niece, you either get him or you don’t. The annoying thing is, Mr. Styles teaches all of the science electives like astronomy, astrophysics, forensic science, marine science, zoology, and meteorology. These aren’t required courses, but they’re only a semester long. After completing biology, students can either take a full year of chemistry and a full year of physics, or they can do a full year of chemistry or physics, and two science electives. Or they can do four science electives.

Mr. Styles also is the only AP Chemistry and AP Physics teacher. There’s really no avoiding him. Some students accept this, and others continue to live in denial.

Many students know their strengths and passions. They were made to be scientists. Your niece, who loves science, is taking as many courses as possible to help herself out for college later on. She’s in AP Chemistry with Mr. Styles, as well as forensic science. Your niece loved Mr. Styles until he gave her an F for missing an exam. She had been out sick. She had a note from her doctor and everything! Your niece blubbered to you about it.

You know Mr. Styles. You work at the same school as Mr. Styles. You’re the music teacher. You typically avoid Mr. Styles. You’re in a completely different area of the school. Many students complain about him, but just as many praise him. But this time it’s personal. He made your niece cry, at school! You told her she could stay in your office for a bit to calm down. You were marching your way to Mr. Styles’ classroom. You didn’t care if he was teaching. You were going to barge in.

When you get to his door, you see him sitting at his desk through the little window. It’s a prep period. When you giggle the handle of the door, it doesn’t turn. So, you pound on the door with your fist while Mr. Styles takes his sweet time coming to open it.

“Miss-“

“Don’t even address me right now, I’m too mad.”

“I don’t think I know you well enough for you to be venting to me about something.” He says as he closes the door. “But I guess I can listen since I have time.”

“I’m here because you’re being an asshole to my niece. She missed school because she was sick and you wouldn’t let her makeup a test. That’s against school policy.”

“Not with AP courses.” He crosses his arms over his chest. You can’t help but feel frazzled at his attire. The dichotomy of him wearing a Disney shirt about love while he’s scowling is is almost comical. “If a student is sick on the day of the exam, then that’s it. They fail. They don’t get to try again.”

“How is she going to get into a good school if she has an F on her transcript?!”

“She’s not going to fail the class. She knew I had a strict policy. Also, I put out exam dates well in advance. She knew what day it was going to be.”

“She was sick!”

“Was she vomiting uncontrollably? Was she coughing up blood? Was she bed ridden? If the answer is no to any of those, then she could have come in to take the exam.”

“Right, so then she could get all of the other kids sick?”

“Masks are a thing. Plenty of students still wear them in the classroom. She could have come in for the exam and then left afterwards. Why do you care so much? You’re not her legal guardian. Her parents haven’t emailed or called to complain. At the mandatory parents meeting I run at the beginning of the school, I make it clear to the parents that I am strict for a reason.”

“My sister and brother-in-law haven’t called to complain because they don’t know about any of this. She came crying to me because she has no idea how to tell them because she knows she’s going to be asked if she knew it was an exam day. Which she completely forgot because she was sick and her brain was foggy.”

“She’ll have opportunities to make up her grade. Her participation counts for a lot and she’s always participating.”

“You don’t understand mental instability these overachievers have. I’ve seen that girl cry over an A-. Shooting her in the stomach would hurt less than getting a bad grade. Do you get off on being a dick?”

“You know what? This is my prep period, and I was busy.”

“Yeah, your door was locked.” You scoff.

“I always lock it. I don’t like when people filter in and out during my prep.”

“What if a student had an emergency and needed you?! Why are you even a teacher if you don’t care about students?! Do you have any idea how hard these kids have it? They don’t even teach them how to use computers anymore! No one knows how to touch type! Everyone assumes they have it easy, but they don’t. A lot of kids come to school because it’s better than being at home. You making it worse for them is a real turn off. I know you have students that adore you, but you also have students that would love the opportunity to spit in your food.”

“Are you done?”

“That depends, do you understand the points I’ve made?”

“Yes. You were very clear.”

“Are you going to take what I said into consideration as you’re teaching?”

“No.”

“You’re a fucking prick.”

“And you’re…” His eyes go up and down, checking her out. “It’s a good thing your room is on the other side of the school.” He shakes his head.

“Why? Afraid I’ll spit in your food?”

“No, in fact, I’d welcome your spit. I’d like it preferably in my mouth, but beggars can’t be choosers.” He shrugs and sits down at his desk.

Your mouth is agape. Did he really just say that to you?

“Are you serious?”

“Very.” He stands back up and saunters over to her. “If you’d like to cuss me out some more, could we do it over dinner?”

“I…”

“You never gave me a chance to take you out a few years ago. Remember that night we were both at that bar?”

“I do.” You nod as you blush. “But that was a mistake. I had a boyfriend…”

“Do you still?”

“No.”

“Alright, well, I would love to be in your presence again while you’re all fired up. Are you free Saturday night?”

“Pick me up at seven.”

“I’ll make a reservation somewhere I know we’ll be secluded so you can yell at me some more.”

“Stop talking before I change my mind.” You say and storm out of his classroom.

While you were teaching your sixth period choral class, Harry was teaching his forensic science class. Your niece got there a few minutes early to talk to Mr. Styles as he stood outside the class to greet the other students coming in.

“So…did it work?” She asked quietly.

“Like a charm.”

“She said yes?!”

“Mhm.” He grinned. “You must have put on quite the performance. She was really angry.”

“If you thought that made her angry, wait until she inevitably finds out that we worked together to trick her.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #teacher!harry #blurb #drabble #harry blurb #harry drabble

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thought--bubble · 4 months

Text

Make You Purr

Ettore X (Neuro-Divergent Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 1,683

Ettore Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners by @arcielee

Warnings:: Dubcon,Smut, Mommy Kink? Lactation, Ettore.

A/N: This can be read as a one-shot or as a follow-up to my Kitty-Cat series, which can be found here

"You do not need to accompany her every time," Dr. Dibs looked up at Ettore, irritated while he looked back at her expressionless from his place leaning against the wall.

That's my pet

He stays put a smug look on his face as Dibs does her exam on you checking on the progress of your pregnancy, taking blood tests, checking your weight and just all the things that generally should be tracked and monitored for a pregnant woman.

From the outside, it would seem like a dedicated doctor and a loving boyfriend were supporting you during your pregnancy, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Dr. Dibs is no caring OBGYN. She is a mad scientist trying experiments and using the woman aboard this ship as lab rats. While Ettore is not anywhere close to a loving boyfriend. Ettore is an apex predator driven by primal needs. He is compelled to make moves and decisions that serve to keep him fed. Which is how you ended up in your current predicament.

Your inability to communicate with those around you and your incessant need to be touched made you the perfect prey for Ettore, and he circled and cornered you until finally, like a gazelle to a lion he now has you exactly where he wants you.

Ettore had made himself feared upon this ship and, in doing so, made himself untouchable. Even with this status, he goes about his daily life almost the same as he did before, except now he brings his pet with him everywhere, and he no longer hides it. He doesn't feel the need to pretend that he doesn't own you. No, instead, he flaunts it. Dragging you behind him at all times, he worked hard to catch you at great personal risk, and he would be damned if someone were to come between you now.

You are about 5 months pregnant at this point, and still Ettore keeps you glued to his side. You are his pet. His property, and as your belly grew, and your breasts swelled, you had thought his appetite for you would have lessened, but somehow, it seemed to have the opposite effect.

Ettore was more insatiable than ever to the point where he wasn't even waiting to get you in private anymore. At times, he just bent you over the counter while you worked the cafeteria shift, showing no concern whatsoever to the other inmates coming and going. The never-ending pressure of Ettore's sexual needs and possessive behaviors coupled with your pregnancy had your battery running dangerously low.

After your appointment with Dibs, you were exhausted and wanted to lay down. Ettore headed towards the cafeteria, but you turned the opposite direction towards his room, the room that you now both slept in.

"Kitty?" He calls after you while he watches you waddle in the opposite direction. He follows you back to his bunk, and you crawl in and sigh, instantly closing your eyes.

"Cmon, it's time to eat." He grips your hand tight and attempts to pull you from the bunk. You yank your hand from him and roll over, grumbling.

Why isn't she listening? she always listens?

He crawls into the bunk with you and rolls you flat on your back. You instantly start to whimper and whine.

"Shhh kitty." He strokes your cheek, and with a small smile, you nuzzle into his hand. "What's going on with you, huh?"

He pulls the blanket down and off of you, then quickly reaches for your scrub bottoms, pulling both those and your panties down.

You attempt to squeeze your legs together. You are tired, big, uncomfortable, and your boobs hurt. Trying to keep up with Ettore's insatiable appetite has become near impossible for you, but Ettore always makes sure he gets what he wants.

He positions himself between your thighs and begins to stroke himself to hardness staring at your belly. He rubs his hand up over your stretched out abdomen and tilts his head to the side.

I did this. This is mine

He rubs his thumb over your clit watching as your body begins to twitch, your belly poking higher into the air. He slides a finger into you as he leans over you and grabs one of your tits.

Your eyes fly open, and you wince at the harshness of the squeeze pushing his hand off.

He growls, but as he goes to grip it again, he feels the heat radiating off of your breasts and instead ops to simply roll the nipple between his fingers.

You let out a sound that is somewhere between a sigh of pleasure and a groan of pain. Ettore's cock throbs at the sound as he bites his bottom lip.

Such a helpless little thing, my kitty

He lines himself up at your entrance, unable to wait even another minute before pushing himself into you with a growl. You whimper at the intrusion, as he slowly pushes his cock further until he bottoms out and then starts to slowly drag himself back repeating the motion at that same unhurried pace.

You close your eyes and lay back, trying to just enjoy the sensation. You feel his hands move along the tight skin of your stomach, the touch gentle, much more gentle than you are accustomed to.

You melt into the mattress, eyes closed, just soaking in the attention until suddenly it stops. Ettore pulls out of you and drops down beside you, looking up at the bunk above. You roll your head to the side and, with shock, recognize the look on his face. Only it isn't a look you have ever seen on him, only on others. He looks vulnerable, scared even.

You pull yourself up, and he instantly joins you by sitting up himself, his eyes watching every little movement you make. You know he needs comfort and care. It isn't something you ever expected him to need. You don't know how you know. Maybe a mother's intuition? All you know is he needs this now and you couldn't help but want to provide it to him.

You lift your leg across his lap, straddling him as he looks up at you. His eyes are pleading, like a lost puppy in need of saving. You know this man to be a wolf, but all wolves were puppies once. You kiss his forehead and rub your cheek against his and feel his body tense and then soften.

Ettore closes his eyes the feeling in his chest gets tighter and he is getting worried, he doesn't recognize this feeling and he doesn't like it, but when he opens his eyes again and looks up at you as you gently caress the sides of his hair with your hands he can't help but surrender to this new feeling, even if just for a little while.

Please Kitty, take care of me

You lower yourself onto his cock and ride him slowly. He slides his hands up your back pulling your chest towards his face nuzzling his face in between your breasts. The gentleness of this experience is something entirely new to him, and his head is swirling with new feelings and new sensations, the whole thing becoming a bit overwhelming.

He grasps tightly at one of your breasts, and you shriek out in pain. Your boobs have been so sore the last month that touching them almost at all is unbearable. He takes his hand back quickly and gently caresses your left breast. You continue to bounce gently on his cock as he takes your left nipple into his mouth.

You hiss slightly pulling away, but he holds you in place with his hand on your back as he continues to swirl his tongue around your nipple and gently suck on the tender flesh. His eyes go wide the first time he feels liquid enter his mouth but when he looks up at your face, only to see a look of relief and euphoria he knows this is right, this is what he should be doing. so he continues his ministrations, drawing more liquid from your breast while gently massaging the hot skin.

You start to move your hips with more purpose as he switches to your right breast, again circling the nipple with his tongue before drinking his fill.

You wrap your hands around the back of his head, holding him gently to your chest as you slightly increase your pace, your breath coming out in labored huffs. Your center starts to clench around him, and he knows you are getting close.

He continues to suck on your nipple while bringing his hand down to your clit and rubbing circles upon the engorged nerve.

His eyes open in shock when you start to moan, really moan, loudly. His obedient, sweet, quiet, Kitty almost never makes a sound.

I finally made you Purr

The sound of your moans, the clench of your most intimate muscles around him and the shudder that runs through your body from the power of the orgasm that blasted it's way through you was enough to send Ettore into bliss of his own as he grunted, looking up at you jaw slack while he coated your walls once again.

He helped you lay back on the bed and watched you intently as you drifted off to sleep a small smile on your face.

As he lay there next to you, his hand on your belly, his mind started to race with the thoughts of the other women who had gotten pregnant on the ship. All of them died.

Every. Single. One.

Dibs didn't try hard enough, she missed something, she's doing something wrong.

For the first time in months, Ettore got out of bed and left you alone to sleep while he moved through the hallways with purpose toward the office of Dr. Dibs.

He was determined to make sure she was aware of how important it was for her to figure out how to get you through the pregnancy without losing you.

Because if Kitty dies. Everybody Dies

Epilogue for Kitty-Cat series can be found HERE

To be added to taglist click here

#ewan mitchell verse #ettore high life #ettore x reader #ettore #ettore smut #ettore imagine #ewan nation #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewanverse #ewan mitchell #jess fics #my red flag bf

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frenchkisstheabyss · 10 months

Text

♡ ｄａｒｌｉｎ ♡

♡ Pairing: massage therapist!san! x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: Just a quick, relaxing massage from this gorgeous man of yours

♡ Genre: fluff/smut

♡ Word Count: 830

♡ Warnings: fingering and a sickeningly charming choi san

Lying on your back beneath the cotton sheet it almost feels like you’re being prepped for surgery. San shifts around just outside of your line of vision, lighting candles and mixing oils. Your little mad scientist. “You aren’t falling asleep on me, are you?” he teases, turning the lights down.

“No...”

That’s a lie. Blame it on the soothing music or the oil diffuser lacing the air with delicate, floral notes. You could absolutely drift off to sleep here but there’s no time. San’s at the side of the table rolling his sleeves up with that angelic dimpled smile on his face. “You ready for me, sweetheart?” “Mmhm,” you nod, enchanted by his presence.

Your response comes with a squeak of excitement. San can’t wait to hear what other noises you’ll make before this session’s over. He leans over and kisses the bridge of your nose, “Close your eyes.” You do as you’re told, slipping into a darkness that feels safe and warm. San brings the blanket down to your waist, admiring how your breasts fall free of any restrictions.

Droplets of coconut oil form a path starting between your breasts and ending just above your belly button. San presses his palms firmly against your plush belly, gently stroking up across your ribcage and back down again. There’s something so sensual about the shape of your body. Your softness. He has to remind himself that the whole point of this is to take his time with you but you aren’t making it easy.

San slides his hands beneath your breasts, thumbs meeting in the middle to apply feather-like strokes to your cleavage. Cupping them in his hands, he caresses them in a circular motion teasing you by almost brushing his thumb over your nipples. Your chest subtly rises with his movements, responding to his touch precisely as he wants you to.

He continues to tease you, only stroking your buds when your body’s basically begging him to. Each time his soft skin kisses them they stiffen a little more, so desperate for his attention. Pinching up from the base of your nipple, he rolls them between his fingers. Pleasure rushes through your body, building in intensity the harder he pinches.

San notices you tense up, choking back the moans that your body’s dying to release. “I thought we agreed, no holding back” he pouts, “You want me to stop?” San slips his hands away and in seconds you’re whining, positive you’ll lose your mind if you don’t feel his touch again. “Please, no, don’t stop.”

“You’ll be a good for me, then?” “Yes, Sannie. I will. I swear.” You stick to your word, filling the studio with a symphony of sounds the moment his fingers are back around your buds. “Spread your legs. Show me you’re ready.” You part them, welcoming his fingers between your folds.

You’re more than ready. You’re soaked, dripping all over his table, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Pushing your breasts together, he drags his tongue across your buds savoring one last taste of you before moving to the end of the table. San pulls the sheet to the ground, happy to finally see you completely naked, vulnerable, and addicted to his touch.

Before San can catch himself, he’s pulling you down to the edge of the table, spreading your legs wider. Your walls pulse in anticipation, not knowing what his next move might be but praying he makes it soon. Using the tip of his pointer finger, he makes small circles on your clit.

That alone has you pulling away, driven wild by the bare minimum. San wraps an arm around your waist, burying his fingers into your thick thighs to keep you close. “No running” he smiles, tracing larger circles around your clit. As punishment, he drives his fingers deep into your warmth, dragging them against that spongy spot inside of you.

He pumps in and out, pushing you to the edge of your high only to deprive you of it at the last second. Adding another finger, he dips into you again, resuming his unforgiving pace. It’s almost evil how much he loves building this pressure up inside of you. What a sight you are to behold.

There it is again, the tightness in your stomach. In your legs. Your thighs. San rolls his palm against your clit, still fingering your core. Your body coils one last time before you’re coming around his fingers, screaming his name as if it’s the only word you know. His movement inside of you gradually slows down, carrying you through your orgasm.

“Feel relaxed now?” he asks, licking you from his hand. You taste immaculate. Your heart’s pounding but your body feels weightless, floating up in a state of ecstasy. You sigh, emitting a certain glow, “Very much so.” San chuckles, his shirt already up over his head. “Good. Now we can really get started…”

#san x reader #san x y/n #san x you #choi san smut #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez x chubby reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #chubby smut #plus size smut

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dawndelion-winery · 11 months

Text

Fortune's Blessing

Meeting the God of Luck! Reader

Ft. Capitano(pt.2), Diluc, Dottore(pt.2), Pantalone(pt.2), Zhongli

Part 1

Capitano:

Fortune favours the bold

Or so he's heard, which is why he's once again at your altar, flowers in hand, along with his usual offerings

He takes more time in getting to his requests with each visit ever since you've started entertaining him in person

Terrible, really, the way he stalls, smoothly transitioning between topics the moment he sees you begin to lose interest

He knows there's only so long s mere mortal could hold your attention

Still he tries, adamant to make it work, to leave an impact on you, even if only a fraction of the impact you've had on him

Perhaps it really was time to be bold - what he planned to do would toe the line between courage and foolishness

"What is it you wish me to bless this time, Captain?" You murmur, tilting his chin to have him look at you as he knelt at your feet. He rose, kissing the back of your hand in reverence. Had you been anything but a god, you would have surely melted stthe intensity of his gaze, so steadfast and sure as he looked at you like there was nothing else in the world.

"It is a more...personal endeavour this time, Fortune." You raised an eyebrow at the captain prompting him to continue.

Diluc:

He's never considered himself particularly lucky or unlucky

Nor does he consider himself a devout believer of any god

Like yeah sure, gods exist, good for them, not his problem

Y'all failed him and let his dad die

So his first offering had been more of a formality since you were a friend of their archon and chose to visit their fair land of Mond

It just do happened his wine was the finest you'd tasted, and he found himself in much good fortune over the next few days

It felt odd to him, suddenly having this much good fortune after turning into a recluse

Greater still was his shock when you sat comfortably in his living room when he arrived home

"You are young lord Ragnvindr, yes?" you asked gleefully. "Your offering was received with much gratitude, and I am most regretful to inform you that it has run out."

He blinked a few times as you smiled at him expectantly. "You're...Fortune..." You nodded enthusiastically. "And you...you're asking for more wine?" His question sounded clipped, as though he were weighing the consequences of acquainting himself with yet another alcoholic god.

"Indeed, I took the liberty of installing a small shrine by your cellar for your convenience."

Your words left Diluc sighing, yet he couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips as you left.

Dottore:

Attention whore.

You thought you were dealing with a genius mad scientist?

Well, technically yes, BUT he is also an attention whore

Why did you not shower him with praise when he showed you the experiments he had used your luck for?

He takes it as your cue to him that he hasn't impressed you sufficiently

Which does make him grumpier

And he's not professional enough to hide it

"Take a look at this, Fortune."

You nodded in response, gingerly lifting the small device from his hands and raising it to the light to observe it. Your face remained impassive since you didn't really understand just what you were looking at, but of course, to Dottore, he'd expect a god to know these things.

"Well?" Dottore tapped his foot impatiently, his gleeful smile fading, slowly replaced by a frustrated scowl when all you comment is that "it's nice". Only nice?

The little office chair he pulled out for you is now carting you off around the lab to look at larger scale projects at speeds it was certainly not designed for.

Pantalone:

It's an investment, as you should know

Except luck is always a gamble, and who's to say his competitors don't worship you as well?

He finds out the hard way that his competitors were, in fact petty enough to come together and pool their offerings to one up his offerings

He does call for a business meeting with you over dinner

Enjoy it? Lovely, he certainly hopes you do

Gives you an ultimatum, in a way, because at the end of the day, he's got more to offer you long term

"Forsake them, Fortune. Whatever it is you want from me, it's yours. Is that not tempting enough of an offer to you?"

He's batting his eyes at you, plastering a pleading expression on his face, but you can tell it's an act. You know full well he'd cope just fine even if you declined, that this was just the most direct way out for him. Yet you found yourself caving for the sly, coy grin that tugged at his lips. So against your better judgement you agree. For a second, you note how serpentine his victorious smirk looks, and he seems to believe he has you trapped in his coils. No matter. It amused you for the time being; and you would continue to humour him for as long as he intrigued you.

Zhongli:

It's been a while since he's met another god who wasn't one of the seven

Heck, it's been ages since he'd even seen the seven, each of them preoccupied with their own affairs

So he's more than obliged to show you around, to accompany you when you visit Liyue

He has no need for luck, just as you have no need for material wealth

It's an odd sort of comfort, not being exalted, and it feels like two ordinary old friends walking along the harbour together

The two of you definitely jokingly exchange gifts as "offerings" and tease each other about your respective abilities

"Do you recall our contract?" Zhongli mused as he fidgeted with a single mora, rolling it between his fingers.

"Which? When you were only known as Morax? Or when you first were revered as Rex Lapis?"

"From our first farewell." You nodded, thinking back to that moment, back when Zhongli had kept his hair more unkempt, and worn the most fitted of shirts, flaunting the geo lines that adorned his arms. Back then, he'd lost Guizhong not long ago, and it was beginning to get lonely as more and more of his friends succumbed to erosion. So he'd proposed a contract, that no matter what, as long as he remained in Liyue, you'd one day return.

"Well, I did return," you hummed. "That you did," he agreed. "And I'd like to propose the same contract when you depart again. Something to look forward whole you're away."

Taglist:@myluvkeiji @aqui-soba @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @heizours @haliyamori @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating @cxlrose @astrequa @eowinthetraveler @ajaxstar @boundedbyfate @the-lost-anime-dad @moonbyunniee @greyrain23 @heavenlyfloof

Commissioned by @monstersealclubber

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neteyamslovrr · 1 year

Text

KXANI - pt3

summary: you have never fit in with the scientists, but on the night jake was lost in the forest so were you. staying with the people was your one true dream, yet when you are anything but welcome and jake get's to experience the people. you find yourself seeking comfort in tsu'tey

contents: 2.2k words, angst, a lot of fluff ur welcome, tsu'tey ebing a confused softie, jake being a dick but i forgot to put it in so just assume, avatar 2009, slowburn is now blazing

authors note: WOOO SOME ROMANCE, i loved writing this, i had this one song playing "falling asleep with a book on your chest" by lullatone - piano version, and im convinced thats what them falling in love sounds like all parts - next part

┌────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────┐

Jake had made the bond with an ikran. A step of becoming a true warrior, one of the people. You couldn’t help but feel jealous. The way the whole village chatted and gossiped about the sky-person who conquered a banshee. It was impossible not to writhe in rage as you watched him get celebrated.

You couldn’t even escape it in your human form. As Jake animatedly re-told the story, the way Grace listened in awe over and over again as Norm stated how badly he wanted to witness something so monumental.

You couldn’t even escape it in your regular escapades with Tsu’tey. Usually you two would search the forest together, talk about how nature connects all and contribute something to Hometree. But today Tsu’tey wouldn’t shut up, he usually let you do the talking but today it was all ‘Jakesully this, Jakesully that.’ It was driving you mad.

“The skxwang flew off the cliff! I wanted to see him fall but he made the bond. It was impressive. That it all the compliments he gets from me.” Once again he went on about his impressive act. You wished you weren’t so bummed. This was monumental just as Norm said, it was amazing he had made it so far into the rites of a warrior.

“Cool.” You could’ve tried to sound more impressed, but it wasn’t worth it. The way you posture was hunched, your eyes didn’t meet Tsu’tey’s and your quiet voice. Tsu’tey knew something was wrong.

“Why are you upset?”

“I’m not! I just said it’s cool.” Tsu’tey looked at you as if you had spat in his face and called him an idiot. It made your heart thump in anxiety.

“You are not being honest, stupid sky-person thing.” You gave him a sarcastic smile as he called you stupid and walked off faster to ignore his pestering. (that you totally started) “Do not walk away! You will hurt yourself baby demon!” Tsu’tey hissed in annoyance as he followed your childish stomps.

You turned around in a dramatic fashion as Tsu’tey stopped abruptly to not run straight into you. “I don’t want to hear about Jake anymore! No more Jake!”

Tsu’tey watched the way your breath faltered, and your ears flattened. The way your tail went between your legs and your hands balled into fists. Eywa, he hated the way worry grew in his chest. The way he desperately wondered if Jake had done something to you. Or if he himself had done something to you.

He hadn’t worried about anyone like this in years. So why was he doing it for you. Why was he so worked up over a stupid, incompetent, weak, beautiful, no NO alien looking demon.

“No Jake. Ok.” Tsu’tey nodded as he watched your chest deflate as you let out a loud exhale.

“Great. Awesome.” You smiled up at him. Stop. Why was he looking like that. His pupils dilated as his mouth was slightly open. He looked so enamoured by whatever he was looking at. So why was that look facing you? “Tsu’tey?”

“Yes.” His name sounded like sweetness off your tongue. He was addicted to it. He’d make you say it a million times if he could hear your sweet voice again. Sweet? No. Annoying, accented voice.

“Why are you looking at me like that.” His mind panicked, he felt his muscles go stiff. Oh, this was mortifying.

“Your face is weird.” Tsu’tey spluttered out. He watched the way your face dropped. There was that pang of guilt again, he did not want to say that.

“Oh! Thanks.” You deadpanned him as you turned to walk away from him in a huff only to be stopped by his tight grip on your wrist.

Tsu’tey had no idea what he was thinking. Why was he holding you? Why did it feel as if his heart was racing. Why did his throat burn and why was he blinking rapidly. Was this panic? Was he in danger? No, all he was doing was holding onto you for no good reason.

“I am sorry. I did not mean it that way.” His voice was sorrowful, the sincerest of apologies as you turned to face him with a pout.

“Then what did you mean Tsu’tey?” What did he mean? He had no idea. All he knew was the way your face looked up to him begging for an answer was driving him mad.

He had no idea what he meant. No words were reaching his brain, and none of them were escaping his mouth. He just stared at you wide-eyed, grip on your wrist growing tighter the more confused the both of you got.

“What did you mean?” Tsu’tey couldn’t think of an answer, so he turned the question onto you. He was the one holding you in his grip, why should you be asking the questions?

“What? Tsu’tey I asked you.”

“No more Jake. Why’s that?” He watched your face drop again. What has Jake done? Why did he upset you so much.

“He’s just…I don’t want to talk about it Tsu’tey.” You felt yourself grow hot, you didn’t want to be interrogated by this huge man, but he was persistent. He was a stubborn man.

“Please, talk.” Tsu’tey has never felt himself grow more desperate, why was he? He felt like everything he knew about himself was falling apart. He wanted to stare at you with contempt, but it was only concern.

“Are you serious right now Tsu’tey?” You looked up to him with this twinkle in your eyes, emotion pouring out of them as he watched the way your nose scrunched. He didn’t really think of it much when he did it. But his tight grip loosened from your wrist and turned into a soft hold on your hand.

It sent shivers through both of your bodies as he looked deep into your eyes. He was entranced, this was all so wrong. But the way you reciprocated and squeezed his hand made him feel so sure about this.

“Serious.” You gave him a sad smile before breathing in, signalling the start of a lengthy explanation.

“Jake, he gets to learn so much. He gets too fly an ikran, hunt in the forest, learn the ways of the forest. He experiences so much, I feel left out. And they act as if I am stupid because I do not know any of it! I mean Jake refuses to talk to me, whenever I talk about what I learnt they just ignore me or worse they make fun of me. Jake acts so mean, he makes me feel useless.” You felt as if you had let go of a huge weight. Your lips quivered as you tried not to get too upset over the topic of conversation but as you looked up at Tsu’tey, it was a look you had seen once before.

He was angry. His lip twitched as he fought off an annoyed hiss. His grip on your hand had become tight as he stared up at the sky.

“Jakesully? Does this? He ridicules you?” You didn’t say anything, too shocked to react to his awful mood. “That kurkung, I’ll slit his throat as he sleeps.”

“Please don’t kill him. That is a very terrible solution.” Tsu’tey grunted, letting go of your hand in anger. But why was he so angry. This was demon business, this shouldn’t concern him at all. What Jakesully and you did. It should not impact his emotions at all.

But watching the way your breath got shaky as you started talking about the scientists made his tremble in anger. It made his head hurt from the curses that he was fighting to keep in his mouth.

“Forget I told you, you probably don’t care about sky-person stuff.” Tsu’tey nodded, it broke your heart slightly. Did he really not care, but he looked so infuriated.

Tsu’tey then had an idea. It was perfect, it would fix at least a little of what you were upset about.

“Would you like to fly on my ikran? We can fly together.” Tsu’tey heard his mind screaming at him. What was he thinking? What kind of gesture would she think this is? But he wanted her to be happy. For some reason the sad look on your face made his chest ache and his eyes water. For once, maybe he should listen to his heart.

The bright eyed look on your face was enough for him to get his answer. “Of course, I would!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hold on tight. If you fall, you die.” You nodded into Tsu’tey’s shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his waist, squishing your face into his back, too afraid to look down. A seatbelt would be perfect in this situation.

The sound of the ikran’s wings taking off didn’t silence the way Tsu’tey’s heartbeat rapidly. It felt as if it was hammering against his ribs as he felt your fingers dig into his abdomen. He could feel your breath on his back as his ikran soared higher into the air.

“Open your eyes skxwang!” He shouted so you could hear him. You heart was doing the same as Tsu’tey’s. While it was also the insane thrill of flying on a dragon like creature. Your realisation of the utter proximity you had to Tsu’tey was making your stomach tighten.

“It’s beautiful up here.” Tsu’tey decided to be kind and simply let his ikran glide, no fancy turns, or dives. Or else he might lose his least annoying sky-demon.

“It is.” Like you. It was like a whisper in the back of his head. It was so quiet yet so loud. Like you. Were you beautiful? Your weird toes and fingers, your odd smile, your funny accent and kind nature. Maybe you were beautiful. Maybe. But this was wrong, this was forbidden.

To love an alien. To love a demon. But were you really that. Or were you just you? Tsu’tey couldn’t handle this debate in his mind so he shook it away.

Maybe he shook it towards you. Because while you looked at the beautiful landscapes below you, you couldn’t help but rest your head on Tsu’tey. His warmth making your heart flutter.

His stubborn and strong nature. He intimidated you. But talking to him felt so easy. The way he listened completely. Though you knew he was not a fan of your company, he still kept teaching you. He was kind and you saw that. He was a protector of the greatest rank. It was admirable, his pride and love for his people. You saw it in his eyes as he walked through Hometree and returned from protecting his people.

You knew you shouldn’t let yourself have these feelings. You shouldn’t let yourself want more from Tsu’tey when he didn’t want to give you anything. But his presence was warm, he was inviting and you couldn’t help but squeeze him tighter. Hoping that maybe your hopelessness would seep into him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Tsu’tey knew you were sleeping. That’s why he felt as if he was doing something so wrong. He saw Jake walk outside just moments ago. Why did he feel the need to be secretive? He didn’t need your approval to do anything.

Tsu’tey stalked Jake like he was prey. Watching his weak and gangly body (in his eyes) waltz through the forest. As soon as Tsu’tey felt that it was far enough, he pounced behind Jake making the demon jump in shock.

“Shit! Tsu’tey you cannot sneak up like that.” Tsu’tey hissed at him, and Jake’s eyes grew in worry. “Man, what’s got you riled up.”

“You.”

“Well yeah, I figured that much.” Jake rolled his eyes at the man in front of him only making him more infuriated.

“You disrespect Y/N.” Jake’s face contorted into confusion.

“What do you mean?” Jake watched as Tsu’tey’s hand reached down to his knife, holding onto the handle tightly. “Woah, let’s calm down here okay.”

“You don’t disrespect. I slit your throat. A dead Jakesully is a good Jakesully.” Tsu’tey’s voice was deep, his eyes were furious, rage spilling out. He bared his teeth to the cocky man ahead of him.

“Ok no killing. Jesus. Just what did she say to you?” Tsu’tey hissed at him again jolting towards him as released his knife.

“Do not question me! You don’t disrespect. And you live.” Tsu’tey had his knife unsheathed and pointing at Jake as he talked. He was seething, he was angry. He was livid all because of you.

“Ok ok ok! Fine! Can I go now? Fuck me.” Jake stormed off probably back to Neytiri as Tsu’tey relaxed his arm dropping his knife to the floor.

What did he just do? Why was he doing this? Why was he so adamant on protecting you? His mind was slowing falling apart and all the broken cracks were thoughts of you.

He couldn’t lie to himself any longer could he? He can’t live in denial anymore. He has fallen in love with you, a woman from another world, and he couldn’t bring himself to deny it. He was ardently in love with you.

└────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────┘

tags:

@koolaidmanscaresme @suntizme @forestcottage @avatarlover21 @mechformers @jennielune @dilfs-bitch @simplefools @merla123 @awkward-halfhug @atwow699 @scarlettisconfusedd @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @elegantkidfansoull @tarrynightss @randxmthxughts @ronalsgirl @gardenofvows @zitarciss @i-thirsty-boii @lin0leum @lovekeehoo @notyurdad @supercoolusernamesblog @cupidddd-d @im-in-a-pansexual-panikanik @saltedcoffeescotch @jakesullysslutttt @valentineheartzz

(sorry if i didn't get u, or if it didn't work)

reblogs + replies appreciated!! i'll give u a big ole smooch and a imaginary teddy bear

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neverniko101 · 28 days

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Trying to convince my brain that I cannot make another ask blog (it is not working help)

Anyway, a swapverse! Phastasmverse? Is that too hard to spell?

Yeah, I might be making another ask blog, probably on an actually different blog this time

I’ll probably alternate between working on this and Horror Dreamtale between STP

Rambling about precious children ⬇️

Amber (Dream by Joku):

- Tall bee man

- Smug asshole

- Got rich off selling his brother’s inventions

- Runs a fancy multiverse-wide Casino/Bar/Restaurant

Pollen (Dust by Ask Dusttale):

- Sweet little guy

- I say “little”, but he’s actually pretty tall

- Botanist obsessed with flowers

- has never killed anyone

- ever

- especially not by poisoning them with flowers

- Terrified of bears, even teddy bears

Cyan (Nightmare by Joku):

- Acts scary but is really a goofy little guy

- Mad scientist/engineer

- Uses inventions to run mazes, haunted house etc. to get negative emotions

- Lives in a giant (very, very heavily trapped and guarded) castle by himself

- Mechanical tentacles/arms, Doc Ock style

Epoxy (Ink by Comyet):

- Acts like a goofy little guy but is really scary

- >:3

- Likes to climb Amber and sit on his shoulder

- definitely not some kind of horror that traps people in resin cocoons and drains their life force

Razor (Cross by Jakei):

- After his AU was destroyed, he ripped a hole into the anti void, corrupting him and destroying the remains of Xtale

- Hunts ‘bugs’ in AUs, sometimes destroying entire universes to ensure the bug doesn’t spread

- Memory issues, doesn’t remember most of Xtale

- lonely someone befriend this man

Stitch (Error by Loverofpiggies):

- Runs around AUs taking parts of them to sew into the broken parts of his own AU, Cross-style

- Often accidentally causes bugs in AUs he visits, corrupting/destroying them himself or causing Razor to destroy them

- On the run from Razor

- Can animate his puppets to do little chores

- Fights with a giant sewing needle as a weapon

- Also needs friends

Mist (Fell by Vic):

- Probably the chillest guy here

- It’s his job to make sure that everyone gets enough sleep

- Will be disappointed in you if you don’t go to bed on time

- Has several pet bunnies

Comet (Outer by 2mi127):

- Angry little guy

- One of two employees at the Multiversal Transportation and Postal services

- Runs exclusively on coffee and baked goods provided by Cookie (the only person he can tolerate)

- Can take you basically anywhere, but you’d have to convince him to do so, which is difficult even for Cookie

- Catches on fire when too angry

Azoic (Fresh by Loverofpiggies):

- Mercenary

- Unnaturally good at making improvised weapons

- Is a cowboy? Don’t know where that came from

- Has a horse named Penelope

- Trying to earn money

Toxin (Killer by Rafbawas):

- He seems fun

- Perfectly mentally stable

- Eats the fabric of the multiverse

- Turns people into mindless rainbow zombies

Marrow (Horror by Sourapplestudios):

- Bounty Hunter

- Able to switch out his body parts with other monsters and humans

- Pretty chill all things considered

Crypt (Reaper by Renrink):

- Uh

- what

- what is that

- just some guy that Palid decided to adopt?

Palid (Geno by Loverofpiggies):

- His name is a mix of Pallid (being pale or dull, like a dead person or ghost) and Paladin (a hero)

- Kind of adopted Papyrus’ personality after his death

- Precious little guy

- Finds Crypt in an ally and is like “yup I’m keeping him”

- Fights with a morning star

Ghost (Blue by Popcorn prince):

- Sad boy

- Able to manipulate water, especially his tears

- Has started following Razor around for no apparent reason

Cookie (Lust by NSFWShamecave):

- Again, just a genuinely nice person

- Runs a bakery!

- Obsesses over people easily

- Can and will give you a hug

Sweettooth/Ttoo (Ccino by Black-Nyanko):

- So high energy (as a result of experiments, probably) that they need to almost constantly be eating high-energy food, typically sugar

- Trying to find a cure along with their best friend, Cookie

- When low on energy, will start to melt and attack any nearby source of energy, including souls

help

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acapelladitty · 5 months

Text

Greasing The Wheels: Part Two

Pairing: Riddler/Reader/Scarecrow

Word Count: 6.5k

Part One available HERE

Summary: After the 'success' of your first meeting with Crane, Edward arranges another meeting as he allows the mad scientist free use of your body and soul.

(warnings: threesome, deepthroating, whipping, double penetration, rough sex, exhibitionism, bdsm dynamics, anal sex, crying, orgasm, cum marking, punishment)

As always, Edward’s instructions were as clear as day and delivered in such a way that even the simplest of minds could comprehend them as your eyes flick over the scrawled note which awaited you atop his favourite chair.

Your role is to do whatever is asked of you. You will service Crane as a makeshift cleaner, doing what you can to improve his working space, while also fulfilling any other service which he may require of you. You are expected to do so with enthusiasm and skill, using your prior knowledge of what Crane likes to ensure that he enjoys you.

Failure to meet any of these very basic requirements will result in punishment and Crane and I have very different approaches to administering discipline. We have discussed your enjoyment of our previous meeting and Crane has expressed a clear desire to test you with elements of his toxin. Disappoint or embarrass me and I will be forced to indulge him.

All our usual rules apply, and Crane is aware of both your limits and your safeword.

Preparations were quick to follow.

You were meticulous in your routine as every inch of your body found itself treated to some form of treatment, be it an exfoliation or a shave, and your makeup was kept simple to enhance your natural features. It was Edward’s preference and on nights like this, when the game was the focus of your fun, it was your pleasure to indulge him.

Edward observed the results, as he always did, and he seemed pleased with your efforts if the slight warmth in his gaze and wandering hands was anything to go by.

“Pretty little thing.” He murmured, running his fingers across the loose white shirt which tucked into the short skirt that hung to just above your knee. “Do you remember your role?”

“Yes, sir.” You answer and the title earns you an approving nod as he pulls his goggles free of his hairline and deposits them at the side.

“Excellent. I will be working on the finishing touches for Crane’s new customised leg brace so my presence will be mixed. He is aware of my hard rules and, should he disrespect them, you are permitted to call for me and seek out my support. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Do well and we’ll see about a special reward.” Edward leered, not bothering to hide the slight tent in his slacks as he brushed his groin against your hip.

“One that I’ll like?” You ask, batting your lashes as you tilt your head at him.

The question nets a chuckle as his fingers trace along your jawline.

“For a little while, yes.”

x-x-x-x-x

The abandoned farmhouse which Edward revealed as Crane’s hideout was surprisingly imposing as it loomed ahead on the short drive. Edward, one hand on the wheel and the other alternating between the gearstick and your thigh, did not seem the slightest bit intimidated as he quickly dragged the car up the dirt path and switched the engine off.

A nervous energy, one borne of your previous encounter with Crane plus the promise of what lay ahead, made your body shiver as your hands flexed against your legs.

“Are you incompetent?”

The question catches you by surprise, making you start a little as your head snaps towards Edward - only to find him staring at you intently.

“I’m not sur-”

“Are you incompetent?” Edward repeated, cutting you off with a harsh voice.

Meeting his gaze as you often did, you shake your head softly.

“No, sir.”

“Then you will be fine. You have your instructions and your safety net.”

Now nodding in agreement, you slip from the car and try to ignore the slight dampness of your underwear and the shameful way in which your anxiety only seems to make it worse.

The house is unlocked, and Edward is quick to sweep you through the main floor as he leads you through to the main living space. It is an odd sort of house with many of the furnishings and trappings missing, replaced with unmarked boxes and scientific looking equipment which meant nothing to you. Eventually though, your gawking ceases as Edward turns a corner and brings you face to face with Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow himself.

Clearly in his main workspace, a large desk sat surrounded by various notepads and stacks of books which were clearly used often. A slightly smaller desk lay attached to the larger one and this was covered with beakers and mixed bottles of coloured liquids.

Crane himself stood in full costume; his patchwork costume and mobility aids as familiar as ever as the majority of his face lay hidden away by both his mask and the shadows of his hood.

A traitorous stab of arousal lances through you as you meet his milky gaze once more.

“Good evening, Doctor Crane.” Lowering your head in greeting, your voice is slightly higher than usual and the cadence of it doesn’t go amiss as a slight smirk tugs at the corners of Edward’s lips.

“Crane.” Edward offers, nodding only once.

“Nygma.” Jonathan answers in kind. “And his little pet. How delightful. Does she know of our arrangement?”

Heat tickles at your cheeks as both men speak of you as if you were not there.

“Yes. She knows the role she is to fill as we work.”

“Good. Come here, dear.”

Moving forward on legs which feel unsteady, you take the few steps necessary to stand before him and your neck tilts up to meet his impressive height.

“And what do you think of our little arrangement? I don’t imagine your master asked your thoughts before he traded you like a whore.” Heat pooling between your thighs, your arms remain submissively pinned to your side as his thin hands move to ghost along your body, teasing the edge of the shirt.

“He told me what was expected and it’s not my place to question it, Sir.”

Crane’s cold fingers trace over the soft bruises which have only just started to fade on your exposed collarbone, his fingertips matching up to the evidence of your activities with Edward earlier in the week. “Masochism suits you, little toy. Tell me, at what point do those masochistic tendencies fall into true suffering? When your master punishes you? Roughly fucks you? When you disappoint him?”

“If I disappoint him then I deserve to be punished.” You answer with a demure smile, feeling the burn of Edward’s eyes on the back on your skull. “He’s brilliant and he always knows what’s best for me.”

“Even when he punishes you to the point where tears are streaming, and you feel ready to break? To shatter into pieces like fragile glass?”

“Especially then.” You pause before adding a hasty. “Sir.”

It’s a cheeky response and it does not go unnoticed as yet another small chuckle pulls free of Edward’s unseen lips and Crane’s eyes darken, dilating almost imperceptibly.

“Your little rabbit has fire.” Crane comments, eyes casting over to Edward as he disregards you completely. “Do you lack the discipline to truly snuff it out?”

“A broken toy has no appeal.”

“Hmm, yes. For once, we agree.”

And with that Crane took a step back and you found yourself dismissed as both men took their leave to head over to one of the sprawling tables. Remembering Edward’s earlier information, you turn in place and head back to the kitchen which you had spotted earlier, knowing that the items you need will be found there.

Sure enough, sitting atop one of the wooden kitchen units lies a plastic bucket surrounded by two or three various cleaning products plus a fresh pack of cloths. A touch of humiliation plays across your skin as your role for the evening truly sets in and you are quick to fill the plastic bucket with hot water from the nearby tap before adding some cleanser.

Your clothing isn’t designed for such a cool building and you shiver as a breeze curls around your exposed legs, piercing through your shirt and making your nipples press against the fabric as they peak. In response, you drop to the floor and start your tasks as you dip one of the cloths into the cleaning mixture and swipe it across the floor.

It comes away with some dirt but not as much as you would have expected given the general state of the house and a firm determination to do as well as you can settles in your mind. Edward wouldn’t allow any less and the promise of a reward was as deliciously tempting as ever.

Scrubbing away at the floor with a rhythmic motion time loses meaning until a soft creak of the wood behind you causes a startle that makes the brush fall from your hand. Attempting to turn in position, you find your movements halted by a rough hand gripping the back of your neck in such a way that you freeze in instant panic.

Little more than a creature clamped between wolves’ teeth.

"Do not stop working. No matter what."

Cold words with an unspoken threat, instantly recognisable as the deep tenor of Crane, wash over you and you nod out your understanding - a tight, anticipatory feeling settling in your gut.

"Speak, little rabbit. I trust your narcissistic master hadn't robbed you of your tongue yet."

"Yes, Dr. Crane, sir." You stammer out as your hand seals around the fallen brush to pick it up once more. Always following instructions.

Like a good girl should.

Your skirt is flung unceremoniously over your lower back to expose your entire lower half to his sight. A heated flush paints its way down your face and neck as you maintain slow circles of the brush while remaining on your knees.

His fingers are quick to brush over your skin, a feather light touch which draws a sigh from your lips until it forms into a light squeal as he brings his hand down hard on your defenceless ass. The loud crack of the connection breaks through the air like lightning and is instantly followed by a spreading heat that warms your cunt and sends a shiver down your spine.

"Don't. Stop." Two words punctuated by growls as he sinks two fingers viciously into your cunt, the digits using the thankful wetness there to sink up to the knuckle without much resistance. It's not a gentle touch, his fingers clearly testing your readiness rather than providing it, but the calloused skin and slight fullness feels like a delicious warning of what is to come.

His grip is brutal, hand digging into the flesh of your hips as you hear the slight squeak of his mechanical brace as he drops heavily on one knee to the floor. Arching your back, you raise your ass as you were expected to do - the position uncomfortable as you now support yourself mainly on the one hand which is not scrubbing away at the floor.

The sensation of his velvety cockhead brushed against your slit, seeking out the warm hole he viewed you as. The side of his curled hand brushes against your cunt as he angles himself carefully before thrusting himself within you in one sharp movement.

A yelp snaps free of your lips, pleasure lanced with a discomforting pain at his sudden intrusion making your walls spasm around him as your knees jerk against the floor. His breathing is heavy, interspersed with low grunts, as he gives himself a moment to enjoy the tightness of your hole as you clench around him.

It doesn't last, and he immediately sets himself off on a cruel pace; his hips slamming against your ass as he drives himself hard against your body, every thrust sparking a dull, aching pain as the very tip of his cock bounces off your cervix. The onslaught leaves you breathless, discomfort making tears well in your eyes as you cling to the warm pleasure which steadily builds around it.

"You take it so well." Crane snarls. "A trained whore, fulfilling her only purpose."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm going to use you as I see fit and when I'm ready to provide you the reward you've worked so hard for, you'll take every drop."

Shaking your head in a frantic nod, you cry out as a harsh hand tugs as your hair - yanking it back with such a ferocious grasp that your scalp burns as your head stretches back in such a way that your neck is fully exposed.

"Verbal answers only, little toy."

"Yes! Yes, sir. I understand." You babble out, the words strained by your taut neck before adding. "Thank you."

You can almost hear his smirk at the add-on as he resumes his brutal pace, his cock giving no quarter as the length of it reams you out. He was definitely longer than Edward but not as thick and the difference in size was surprising and unfamiliar.

Before long, his grunts grew more erratic, and his grip of your hips tightened to the point where you were certain that small rounded bruises would decorate the spot in the coming days. Without any warning, aside from a wicked thrust which slammed his cock against your cervix one final time, you felt the heat of his release as it burned you from the inside out.

Turned on but nowhere near your own peak, a whine of frustration slips free of your lips as you clench around him determined to milk out whatever pleasure you could. Sensing your intentions, Crane pulls free of you with a lurid wet noise which sparks a fresh blush across your cheeks. His hand gropes at your ass roughly, caressing and squeezing the skin painfully as he inspects your wrecked hole and the mess there.

"Turn." He commands, his tone low yet satisfied as he enjoyed the aftershocks of his own orgasm.

Following his intention, you keep the brush tight in hand as you shuffle around on your knees.

"Clean me, whore. Every inch." His hand is wrapped delicately around the base of his cock, his pinkie pressing against the thick patch of dark pubic hair which covers the skin there. "Miss even a millimetre and I'll take a switch to you so harshly that your master will have a hard time fixing the damage."

Shuddering at the threat, you dip your mouth forward and take his cock between your lips. The immediate taste of your own juices mixed with his release hits your tongue and it isn't the worst thing ever so you hum contentedly as you set your tongue to quick work; curling around his length and slurping along the shaft as you clean him diligently.

"I'll be using this cunt again before you leave."

You pull free of his cock to reply as a flush overtakes your cheeks at the unexpected vulgarity. "Yes, sir."

And without sparing a second glance in your direction, Crane tucks his wet cock back in his slacks, turns on his heel and disappears back through to the main workroom. His release trickling free of your abused cunt, you cup your hand across your sex and enjoy the heat of the skin against your palm. Your clit throbs beneath the heel of your hand and the temptation to grind into it is wicked.

Approaching footsteps make you flinch, and you quickly snatch your hand away and return to work, pulling your skirt from your back to its original state before rapidly wiping messy circles across a fresh patch of flooring.

“Working hard, pet? Good. I expect no less.”

Warmth alights in your chest as you look up to see Edward looming over your prone position. His dark slacks have an obvious bulge, and you crawl towards him obediently and without insistence, hands fumbling with his zipper to release his cock as he continues speaking.

“Good girl.” He praises quickly, a smile stretching his lips as you pump your hand along his cock. His green shirt is stained with grease and the scent of oil is strong against your nose. “Crane seems pleased with whatever performance he expected from you. Again, not that I expected any less. Your diligence towards your training shows.”

“Thank you, Sir.” You answer, enjoying the familiarity of his cock in your hand as you tease and please him in the ways which you know he loves – ensuring to keep your focus on the ultra-sensitive head of his cock and maintaining a firm pressure on the length as you stroke him down to the thick patch of pubic hair which cushions his groin.

Before too long, his breathing grows harsh and his hips move to buck his cock within your grip, both telltale signs that mean he’s almost ready for his release – signs that you had long since grown accustomed to as his cock remained buried deep within your throat or ass.

“Open your mouth.” He demands and you do so in an instant.

His hand replaces your own as a stuttering groan slips free of his lips and you jump in surprise as his release splashes across your mouth; thick ropes of cum landing across your tongue as one drips across your lower lip. The taste of him is quick to fill your senses and you allow your mouth to hang open until he’s quite finished and has slipped his softening cock back within his slacks.

“Now clean yourself up, pet.”

Swiping your tongue across your lower lip, you pick up the mess there and swallow it down without hesitation. A choice which earns you an approving grunt as his hand drops to press along your head, almost in the way that someone would pet a dog.

“Keep it up and my reward will remain will within reach.”

x-x-x-x-x

Kitchen complete and looking cleaner than you suspected it had been in some time, you soon move through to the living room without much difficulty. The only slight pause in your work came after finishing your thorough scrub of the floor and taking a much-needed bottle of water from the nearby fridge. You were thankful for the chilled water because you had a feeling you would be needing the extra hit of fluid before the evening was over.

The main room was cleaner than the kitchen and the difficulty mostly lay in trying to wipe-down between all the nooks and crannies of Crane’s various pieces of equipment. Some were dustier than others and moving around them required a level of focus that you were struggling to maintain.

Your earlier drink of water has washed the taste of Edward from your mouth, but your cunt still feels the sting of its earlier use, a sensation made worse by the constant standing and kneeling which was necessary for your domestic duties. The only benefit of having moved on to this space is that you can clearly see both men standing on the other side of the room as they continue their business.

Wiping the damp cloth across the table, your eyes dart over to both men as they remain huddled over some metal contraption which means nothing to your ignorant eyes.

A crash of glass makes you jump in place, and you whirl back to the table just to notice that one of the small glass beakers which was placed precariously close to the edge of the table is missing. A quick glance down confirms the mess, the tapered tip of the beaker having broken off and smashed in half just next to the base.

"Well, well, well…" Edward disappointed voice rings out from across the room and you straighten your spine against it, even as your head falls submissively to the floor.

"I'm sorry, Sirs, this toy didn't mea-"

"What you meant to do is irrelevant," Edward interrupts, his hand wiping itself off on his dingy white vest, "but what you did is make a mess. The exact opposite of your purpose here."

Remaining silent, you bow your head further to show just how sorry you were as a creeping suspicion that you had been set-up crawls along your spine.

"Doctor Crane?"

"Yes, Edward?" Crane joins the conversation smoothly, resting his weight on his good leg as a sadistic delight smooths across his twisted features.

"Since my toy saw fit to harm your property, I feel that an equal payment is due in kind. Please show our," Edward pauses, "what did you call her? Ah, yes, little rabbit, how carelessness is rewarded in this life."

"Of course." Crane croons in his deep tenor and a shiver runs through your skin as you realise that his punishments are unknown, nothing like those you were familiar with Edward doling out.

"And Crane?"

"Yes?"

Edward said nothing but his glance was particularly hard in such a way that you know something unspoken had passed between them.

Crane's movements were light as he approaches. His costume flutters with the subtle movement and your gaze settles on his shoes as you remain still. However, a hard grip on your chin forces your head up as you lock eyes with his milky gaze.

"Your master insists that I refrain from the use of my toxin as a punishment."

A shudder of relief rolls through your shoulders and Crane's features harden slightly as he notices it.

"For now, I should say. I have explained to him how such an experiment can be conducted safely, and he has asked for slightly more data which is easily provided. You will taste my toxin yet, whore."

His thin lips curl into a cruel smile, a determined smile, and you can hear the truth in the words.

"However," Crane continues, "his interference has meant that I am reduced to more physical forms of punishment. Go to your master and collect the switch."

Fear laced with arousal pools deep in your gut.

The dreaded switch.

Edward's punishments were not typically physical, his preference for predicament tasks and pinpoint orgasm control making the need for corporal punishment a less attractive option. But they weren't unknown and of all the various impact toys he introduced you to, the sharp sting of the switch was not among those that you could say you liked.

Padding over to where Edward is standing, he points wordlessly to the wall behind him, and you see the switch standing upright against it. You pick it up and quickly return to Crane, handing him the thin wooden stick and watching as he quickly tucks it beneath his armpit.

His hands, as steady as a surgeon, make quick work of your shirt - ripping the buttons free as they skitter across the floor with a tinny sound. Gooseflesh breaks across your skin at how cool his fingers are as he gropes at your tits with a methodical brutality; squeezing with a full palm before zeroing his attention in on your peaked nipples, a vicious pinch between his thumbs and forefinger making you whimper.

"A very soft little thing." He muses in a gravelled voice. "Malleable."

Remaining silent, you take the unexpected examination with shuddering breaths as arousal and shame swirl through your thoughts while he takes the shirt from your upper body and dumps it unceremoniously on the floor.

"Turn around."

"Yes, Dr Crane."

Turning, you face the opposite way and jump in place as his cold hands grab at your wrists to move them against the wall you were now facing.

"If these hands move from this position, then I'll double your punishment for disobedience." He warns, rolling the hem of your skirt between his fingers before tucking it in to the waistband – fully exposing your ass as much as your back.

"Yes, Sir."

"Ten was the agreement set out by your master so let's not disappoint him. Count them out."

CRACK

The first blow catches you across the upper back in such a way that the sting of it makes your upper half curl in place. It's like a flick of lightning, carving its way across your exposed skin for a moment of sharp pain followed by an unpleasant throb as you couldn’t rub at the affected area.

"One." You answer steadily.

He's cruel in his delivery of the next two strikes, swishing the switch with a surprising level of force and ensuring that he hits fresh skin across the middle and lower parts of your back. The second hit you took with a grunted count of two, but the third drew a soft yelp of discomfort as your face screwed up in pain.

"We're only on three, little rabbit. Surely Nygma wouldn't play with a toy this easily broken?"

CRACK

“Four!” You cry out, flinching hard as this blow land across the back of your upper thighs, the sting there even worse than your back. He follows up with another two, quick blows and they both lash across your exposed thighs as a high-pitched cracking noise rings out across the quiet workspace.

There’s very little pleasure to this pain and the sudden intensity of it brings tears to your eyes as your palms tremble against the wall. Your thighs feel like they’re on fire and you wouldn’t be surprised if the welts were already visible from the sheer force which Crane seemed to be putting into the hits.

“Six.” A stuttered whimper.

Ready for a new target, you feel the tip of the switch tracing across your ass, and you tense in preparation of the hits to come. Again, he’s sadistic in his delivery of the next three blows. The first cracks across your ass with a sharp pain that draws a yowl of distress from your lips, one made worse by the continuing throb of your back and thighs. Crane then waits, long enough to ensure that the pain of the hit was beginning to ebb before delivering the next.

Knowing that Edward was watching, you call out the numbers of each strike of the switch – the ninth call coming out as more of a cry than an easy distinguished number and your knees shake with the effort of keeping your body absolutely still, knowing that Crane will add another ten if he sensed any hint of disobedience.

“Only one left, little rabbit.” Crane calls out, his voice laboured with the effort of his hits. “Where should I put this one, I wonder? Edward?”

“Dealers choice. She hates corporal punishment, so I trust your judgment.” Edward’s unseen voice responds, and you can hear the amusement in his tone.

Standing with your hands and legs spread, the silence which falls fills you with an anxiety made even worse by the fact that you know Crane is seriously considering how best to use his final hit.

CRACK

A searing heat sparks up across your cunt as the switch collides with the sensitive, stinging flesh there which such a shocking intensity that your heels rock off the floor and an open sob of distress flees your lips as your teeth bite at your lower lip. Truly suffering, a fat tear rolls free of your right eye and trails down your cheek, tickling the skin there as your hands remain pinned against the wall and unable to wipe it away.

A looming presence behind you makes you tense as Crane drapes his taller frame across your own, the tent of his slacks pressing against your upper hip as his hand drops to run across the various heated welts which decorate your ass and thighs.

“You took that surprisingly well, whore.” He growls into your ear, pressing his fingers roughly into one of the raised welts as you whimper in kind. “I’m slightly disappointed that you held out so well. I was looking forward to painting that skin more thoroughly.”

He pulls away and you drop your hands from the wall, knowing that your punishment is filled, and your fingers shake terribly as they dip the floor to pick up your shirt. Pulling it on, you pause to fix your skirt but don’t bother to try and do the remaining buttons on the shirt as your hands are trembling too much to make such a thing possible.

With blurry eyes, the sharpness taken by the tears which remain, you watch as Crane walks to one of the nearby couches and deposits himself on it roughly. It’s an old-looking couch, worn and frayed around the edges where the fabric has been overused, and the tacky brown shade of it feels very old-fashioned.

“I am tired of helping you, little rabbit, and your discipline has stripped me of some of my energy. Come here.”

As obedient as ever, you walk over to him with soft footsteps, the heat of your abused skin flaring against your shirt with every step. Your eyes glance over to Edward only to see him bent over the work desk, his back fully to you as he tinkered with something mechanical.

“I will not waste more of my effort on you.” Crane announced, pinning you in place with his milky gaze. “You will come and fuck yourself on my cock until I am satisfied.” His hands were quick to release his cock as he spoke, his rock-hard length – the result of his enjoyment of your punishment – standing to immediate attention as he wrapped his fist around the base of it.

Despite your pains, your neglected cunt is wet as hell and you hike your skirt over your hip as you crawl onto his lap, carefully avoiding the metal leg brace as you try to find a position which won’t cause him any discomfort. His body feels very thin beneath your own but he manhandles you well enough as he adjusts his cock against your wettened slit.

He’s in no mood for foreplay and, knowing that your cunt was already stretched out from his earlier fuck, he pulls you down harshly to sink his cock fully between your folds. The sudden fullness draws a moan from your lips as he stretches you out in fell swoop and your cunt clenches around his length. After the pain of your punishment, a little pleasure wasn’t going amiss and you roll your hips across his lap, taking him as deeply as you could as your hands grip to the fraying fabric of the couch in a desperate attempt to chase some pleasure.

His costume is scratchy and uncomfortable against your welted skin, and you focus on the sensation of his cock as you bounce on his lap with a steady rhythm, fucking yourself as instructed.

Closing your eyes for only a moment, a savage pinch of your nipples forces them open as a yelp escapes your lips. His fingers are as rough as ever as he plays with your bouncing tits, pinching and groping at the skin until it’s reddened and extra-sensitive beneath his hands. The fascination he holds with your chest is unabashed and his slender fingers, scarred and hosting jagged nails, torment your skin with a sadistic precision.

“Enjoying yourself, whore?”

Startling at the suddenness of Edward’s voice in your ear, you unleash a short cry and your head tilts back to meet him as he continues.

“Don’t stop on my account. In fact, let me join you.”

His cock brushes along the cleft of your ass and you shiver in anticipation. As part of your preparations, he had insisted on a thorough cleaning but in the heat of the evenings events you had forgotten his earlier insistence.

A crack of a bottle rings out behind you and Crane seems content to remain buried within your cunt as he watches you interact with Edward with a subtle interest, gleaning what little aspects of your dynamic that he can.

Edward’s fingers press against the rim of your ass, and you can feel the coolness of the lube which coats them. He makes quick work of covering your hole before slipping in two fingers for a sudden stretch which takes your breath away. Anal was no stranger between the two of you but it was something which usually was graced with a little more prep and stretch time.

His fingers scissor within you and you tighten your hole around him, a move which draws a growl of pleasure from Crane as you milk his cock with every clench.

You relax as Edward’s fingers pull free and are quickly replaced with the blunted head of his cock pressing against your hole. In one quick thrust, he buries the first few inches within you and your body pushes forward, pressing against Crane as you’re forced to accept him.

It’s pain and pleasure in one; an intense fullness which makes your skin feel as though it’s going to combust as your holes stretch to accept and accommodate both cocks. Prepared enough to ensure no real damage, you were not prepped enough to avoid the hollowing throb of having your ass reamed out and the burning discomfort of your hole draws several small whimpers from your swallowing throat.

Your clit remained woefully neglected, the small sensitive button feeling as though it were aching with its utter lack of attention.

“My work is finished.” Edward grunted, maintaining a rhythmic pace with Crane as their cocks moved in tandem. “Your new leg brace is fully functional and ready for use.”

“Is it coated as requested?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. I will ensure that payment is included in the usual account. As discussed, there is room for a bonus if you would allow me my own session with your little rabbit.”

“Provide me evidence that you won’t break her in the ways I don’t want her broken and then we’ll see about booking an appointment with the good doctor for a private session.”

Both mean speak conversationally, if a little strained, as they continue to fuck and talk about you as if you weren’t there. It’s humiliating and the shame only adds to the hot pleasure which is sweeping across your spine and making your clit throb.

With a vicious growl, Crane indicates for you to move off his cock and you slip him free of your cunt while allowing Edward to continue to thrust against your ass. Fisting himself in hand, Crane’s breathing is erratic as he strokes his cock rapidly, chasing his peak. He hits it after a few moments, his release arcing across your exposed chest as one particularly energetic drop of cum lands as high as your chin, feeling warm against your skin.

He continues to stroke himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm, visibly pleased with having painted you with his release, as his gravelled voice makes more demands of you.

“Leave the mess. I want you to wear the rewards of your services until you’re out of my sight.”

“Yes, Sir.” You stutter out, cunt feeling empty and suddenly neglected by the loss of his cock.

With a careless grunt, Crane pushes you off him to the side as he slinks out from his position beneath your sweat-slicked and cum-stained frame. Luckily, Edward’s grip of your hips was so intense that it didn’t matter much to him as he bent you further over the couch and only fucked you harder as Crane slipped off to inspect his new leg brace.

“Have you come yet, pet?” Edward grunts, the fingers of the hand which isn’t currently pressing into your hip trailing across the welts which decorate your ass.

“No, Sir. Of course not.” You pant out, arching you back to give him easier access to your ass as you carefully bend in such a way to not disturbed the mess of cum which is splattered across your chest.

He hums at your answer and a low scream slips free of your lips as his fingers stroke along your cunt, brushing against your swollen clit like a bolt of pleasurable lightning. His touch is soft and teasing, perfectly circling the sensitive bundle of nerves as he coats his fingers in your juices before returning to your clit.

Demented with the sudden onslaught of pleasure, your orgasm approaches like a freight train and your limbs tremble against the effort of keeping yourself bent over as he expertly pulls you to your peak. Incoherent pleas spill from your lips and your ass clenches around his cock with every thrust.

With a muted cry, your release hits as the tight band of arousal which has been tightening across your groin snaps into a glorious bliss of intense pleasure – the culmination of your various uses and abuses comes to fruition as Edward presses his thumb roughly against your clit to quickly force you into overstimulation. Your vision blurs dangerously for a moment and you feel his body shudder against your own as your desperate clenching pushes Edward over the edge, his release hitting just a few moments after your own.

Overstimulated as he takes out his orgasm on your clit, your scream is low and guttural as every nerve seems to alight across your body. Edward cares little for your plight and you feel the heat of his release painting the inside of your ass with a scorching heat as he rides out his own pleasure.

“Good girl.” Edward pants out and you smile despite everything. He very rarely spoke while fucking, often reserving his long speeches and humiliating praises for the before and after, so you drink in this little change like a woman starved.

Edward pulls free of your ass with an obscene noise that makes fresh heat flare in your cheeks. His hands are quick to wrap around your waist and pull you to your feet, a movement which makes some of his release leak free of your ass and down your thighs as you lean back into his familiar and comforting frame.

“Remember,” he mutters into your ear as his face nuzzles against your sweat-slicked neck, “don’t touch that mess on your chest or I’ll have to let Crane have his way with you.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You look beautiful like this. Fucked out, marked up, and coated – inside and out - with the rewards which you worked so hard for.”

“Thank you, Sir.” You shudder out, enjoying the sensation of his lips on your neck as the adrenaline of your night catches up with you and envelopes you in a fatigue which makes your legs feel like jelly as a slight nausea touches at your throat.

“Let’s go.”

Supporting your body with his own in a possessive way, neither Edward not Crane spare each other another glance as Edward makes to leave. Your skirt is a mess, crumpled and stained by various releases, and your shirt is ruined. However, it’s only a short walk to the car and you know there’s a coat in there which can cover you as you return down to Edward’s own workspace.

As Edward pushes the door open to allow you to pass through, the last thoughts which touch at your mind as you finish up your hard session is to wonder just how much data Edward will need before he lets the Scarecrow play with you once more.

(will upload to AO3 this weekend)

#riddler #scarecrow #jonathan crane #edward nygma #edward nashton #riddler x reader #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x you #riddler x you #riddler x reader x scarecrow #gotham rogues #dc comics #jonathan crane x reader #edward nygma x reader #dr jonathan crane #scarecrow smut #riddler smut

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