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#consider this a friendly threat
jpriest85-blog · 1 year
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Recently, I got into @vendetta-if and have been coming up with concept art of my MC, Katerina aka Kitty. Including a portrait of her with how I imagine Viktor and Yevette appearing, fashion lineup of clothing she would wear, concept sketches of her tattoos, and a full body reference picture of her tattoos and underwear. Damn no wonder Ash got so flustered in the demo😘
Vendetta MC info
Name: Katerina Viktorovna Smirnova [ Катерина Викторовна Смирнова]
Nickname: Kitty
Gender: Female
Sexual preferences: Bisexual
Codename: Anath, Canaanite Goddess of warfare and the hunt who defeats the death god Mot for killing Ba'al, in a rather brutal fashion.
Pistols: Freyr & Freyja
Mask: Venetian mask with wings and crown made of a swirling black
Car: Black and gold Mercedes Benz Maybach S650.
Face claim: Haya Maraachli
Fashion preferences: Fancy elegant clothes in a variety of styles and colors.
ROs: Ash & Rin
Height: 6ft./182.88cms
Ethnicity: Mix of Russian, Syrian, and French descent
Hair: long, straight black hair
Eyes: Brown
Complexion: olive complexion
Tattoos & distinguishing features: a couple of beauty marks on her face on the left side of her chin and upper lip. As well as a few in memoriam tattoos; a stylized camera on the left side of her chest for her father, a stylized motorcycle with flowers on her right shoulder for Cara, and a cameo tattoo on her left wrist depicting her grandmother.
Personality: At first appearance, Kitty seems like a spoiled sweet rich girl, bubbly, charming, and fashionable, but she is also incredibly educated and intelligent. Imagine Elle Woods from Legally Blonde. Only Kitty is a brunette, was born into an infamous criminal family, and is aspiring to become a vigilante like her father Although considering the kind of student she was, Katerina could easily get into Harvard, although she'd be more likely to pursue a major in business or anthropology rather than focusing on law.
She's also a huge Nerd. She was president of the school debate team, graduated as class valedictorian, and everything. She does tend to dress fashionably, and she is fascinated by a wide variety of subjects, and she will study extensively in her free time whenever she develops an interest in a new subject matter. As a result, she's now fluent in over 7 languages; English, Russian, Arabic, Japanese, Spanish, Mandarin, and French, and is even attempting to learn Sign language. She's just as likely to be interested in popular media, as well as more academic fare, with equal enthusiasm. So she's the type of person who'd enjoy listening to popular music as well as podcast lectures on ancient civilizations, or the latest blockbuster movie and documentaries about endangered species, etc. She's also considerate enough not to talk down to the people around her. She doesn't want to make someone feel stupid or bad about themselves just because they don't know something, this just means it's an opportunity to introduce them to something new they can get excited about!
Honestly, Kitty tends to be more offended by people who pretend to know everything, especially when they're trying to just suck up to her. Sure, she was brought up to be enough of a lady to be polite to people, but she doesn't enjoy folks wanting to get closer to her just to get on good with her family. Reminds her too much of her childhood when other kids pretended to be friends with her to get her to do their homework, make connections with her family, take advantage of her generosity, or even seduce her when she "grew up pretty." As a result, despite the fact Katerina is a very sociable and charming person, her friend group is pretty small. There are very few people she trusts explicitly outside of her family, Ash, and Rin. Although Skylar and Detective Valdez are strong candidates to join her inner circle depending on how things play out.
She also tends to be pretty generous since she still remembers how much her father used to worry about money and expenses when she was growing up. She understands how many advantages and opportunities having money can afford, especially as she got older and studied business and accounting to help better assist her uncle. As much as she still wants to be a vigilante, she knows change can't really happen until more people have better opportunities and chances to earn a living without having to resort to crime out of desperation. So she started to secretly start up and fund charity programs that help to improve people's lives like food banks, rehab treatment, after-school and scholarship programs, etc. All of these donations and charity projects are strictly anonymous though, considering her family's reputation she doesn't want the much needed funds being taken away from these people in case of suspicions of money laundering, or that she's using the charities as a PR tactic.
While she usually tries to be optimistic, losing her father so young still takes its toll on her. Katerina still struggles with PTSD, anxiety, depression and even developed OCD after her father's murder. Young children deal with grief and trauma in different ways and in Kitty's case she became an overachiever instead of lashing out; after all, the last thing she promised her father before he died was to be a good girl. She'd push herself to smile and be the dutiful student and child so as not to cause problems for the people around her. Her uncle and grandparents are already grieving and struggling enough, although at the time, she didn't realize she was worrying her family more. Especially her Uncle Luka, sure he didn't have much experience in childcare except for babysitting Kitty and Ash. He's no stranger to concealing his real feelings to not publicly appear weak, but his niece is still so young that she shouldn't be hiding her grief and pain behind a smile like a Stepford wife!
Especially when he knows she's not sleeping well, and he even caught her out of bed in the middle of the night obsessively scrubbing the walls and ceiling. The worst incident was when Kitty was 11 and woke up from a nightmare about her father's murder. Even after washing her face and hands, she still remembers the feeling of her father's blood seeping into her clothes. While she can't see any blood, she can still feel it warm and tacky against her skin. So she kept washing, but the sink wasn't big enough, so she stepped into the shower still in her pjs, and just kept scrubbing even long after the water ran cold and the shadows started multiplying. When her uncle found her, he frantically turned off the shower and wrapped her in a towel, trapping her hands to stop her from scrubbing her skin raw. Luka started taking her to a therapist after this incident, and she still sees a psychiatrist pretty regularly.
It's helped her manage and deal with things, especially after understanding her obsessive fixation with order and cleaning can flare up when she's stressed or trying to reassert some control in her life. Although she still doesn't bring up her attempts at becoming a vigilante and hunting down her father's murder with her doctors for obvious reasons. She's also explored other ways to help her cope in addition to therapy, although some methods are more effective than others. Sure, smoking can help lower her stress, but tobacco and nicotine have long-term health risks, so she's been trying to quit. Kitty has responded well with animal therapy, especially the treatments that involved horses. As a result, her uncle and grandfather both had horse stables added to the family estate, as well as staff, horses, equestrian equipment, and training for her.
Additional info & Headcanons
Kitty tends to be very cuddly and affectionate with people she's close to, ever since she was a child. She'd always cuddle her dad, Uncle Luka, Cara, and even Takashi. She always greeted her grandparents with a hug and 3 alternating kisses on the cheek, even as an adult. Although she often leaves lipstick marks on her Deda Pavel, so now she also makes sure to wipe his cheek after a rather humorous incident when several people were too afraid to let the intimidating Morozov patriarch know he still had colorful lipstick marks on his face. Ash and Rin also grew accustomed to Kitty's gestures of affection, although Ash is a bit more self conscious about the physical contact when she started developing feelings for Kitty, and Rin was initially unused to people being so cuddly with him, other than his father, but he's learned to appreciate it (especially with the advantages of the height difference between himself and Kitty). Once Kitty decides to trust and welcome Jackal into the family, Artyom can expect an enthusiastic bear hug from her as well.
Is a bit of a foodie and enjoys a wide range of different types of meals. Her palette isn't limited to higher end foods, sure she enjoys caviar and champagne as much as the next person but she also loves food discovered from some little hole in the wall spot, or even home cooked meals. She even has an anonymous food review blog that's very popular on social media. Even Skylar follows it.
As far as Kitty's own cooking skills, she's decent enough on her own but needs more practice for more complicated recipes. Especially after the time she tried learning how to make Crème Brûlée, she asked Ash to help her and they both set off the fire alarm…thankfully they always make sure the fire extinguishers are nearby and in working condition.
Kitty prefers strong black tea when she needs a caffeine boost, as coffee tends to give her heart burn. She also picked up the habit of drinking her tea with a sugar cube in her mouth, which she learned from her grandmother when they used to have tea together.
She always has a little tin filled with sugar cubes in her purse, usually because she prefers them to the little sugar packets when drinking her tea and to give little treats for her horses. As a result, Katerina is well known by the mounted units in EPD because the horses always know she's got treats for them.
Since starting animal therapy, Kitty has owned and grown attached to many horses over the years. Her current therapy horse is a Snowflake Appaloosa she named Zefir after the candy. Although after meeting Detective Valdez and seeing how overworked and stressed out they are, she is considering introducing Satana to her horses.
While Kitty still struggles with her OCD she did pick up some useful skills while trying to manage it. She learned how to get blood stains out of almost anything and how to use her Gravikinesis to find and dispose of trace evidence in hard to reach places.
While therapy has helped Katerina learn not to bury her feelings, she still doesn't like crying in public. Partly out not wanting to be vulnerable in front of strangers, and she gets embarrassed by how messy she appears while crying; runny makeup, her face gets all red and puffy, hiccups, ect. She doesn't have any problem crying in front of, or even on, people she trusts like her family, Ash, and Rin. Although sometimes Ash gets too emotional when Kitty starts crying, and if it's not a situation where she can fix things by killing the bastard that made Kitty cry in the first place, Ash will start crying too. Usually, Luka or Rin has to console them both when this happens. Comfort food like ice cream has proven to be effective.
Considering Katerina's affinity to horses, it would surprise no one to learn she was a huge fan of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic cartoon as a child. However, Ash also used to watch the cartoon with her religiously when they were both little girls. Rin will sometimes tease Ash about it as he's one of the few people who remembers this fact and can get away with talking about it without risking death.
When Kitty was a child, she and Ash both joined the Girl Scouts. It was an enjoyable experience, although sadly short-lived, because Ash and Kitty used overly aggressive tactics when selling cookies, like intimidation and racketeering. So they were both kicked out, and Viktor made both girls apologize and refund all the people they extorted. Still, Kitty did learn some useful skills like first aid and fire safety. So whenever Girl Scout Cookie Season comes around, she'll buy everything she can from any Girlscout she encounters and hand out boxes to family, friends, and even staff.
Katerina has astigmatism and has needed corrective lenses since she was 13. She normally wears contact lenses but prefers to wear glasses when at home, during business meetings, or when researching.
Katerina was sort of a late bloomer and was very cubby as a child. Viktor did everything he could to make sure his daughter never felt self-conscious about it, especially since he was also a heavy kid before he had his growth spurt. For the most part, it worked, but Kitty would still feel self-conscious about herself from other kids teasing or fashion advertising. Especially the ones that featured her mother.
When Katerina hit her growth spurt at 14, she was very caught off guard by the sudden attention when people would try asking her out or flirting with her. Especially since many of these same people didn't even give her a second look when she still had her "baby fat," she didn't even lose any actual weight, but because she's taller now she looks thinner.
This has also made her friends and family extra protective of Kitty, and they are often very successful at scarring off any creeps and perverts. There was one incident when Luka was giving Kitty a driving lesson when she was 15, a couple of frat boys pulled up to them at a red light and immediately started aggressively hitting on Katerina when they spotted her in the driver's seat. They didn't notice Luka blinking into their back seat where he proceeded to beat them half to death for harassing his underage niece.
Whenever folks only compliment Kitty on her looks, she quickly loses interest. Sure, she'll politely accept the compliment if it's their first meeting and the other person isn't being a creep. However, if that's the only thing that they're interested in, she'll disengage.
Katerina has a variety of interests, much like a Renaissance man or woman in this case. She is not interested in folks getting close to her just because of her family, wealth, or in an attempt to get into her pants! She speaks over 7 languages and tries initiating a conversation with her about food, history, art, or even something obscure, like the life cycle about an endangered beetle! Just say something of value to the conversation if you want anything more than a standard polite response from her!
Katerina has some very mixed feelings about her mother. While Yevette's rejection of her did hurt and affect her, she still had Cara and her grandmother in her life. They helped shape her into the kind of woman she wants to be. Although as she got older, she's learned to let go of some of the hurt…mostly. She understands not everyone is meant to be a parent and believes Yevette is just one of those people who doesn't have it in her to be a mother. Sure, Kitty doesn't want Yevette to die, but for the most part, her mother is a stranger to her. Just because she grew up seeing Mirage everywhere in TV, comics, ads, and movies doesn't mean they know each other even if Yevette did give birth to her. Sure she'll be polite to Yevette, after all Baba Alina made sure Katerina was raised to be a respectful young lady, but if Yevette wants to build an actual relationship with Kitty she needs to show she means it. Katerina learned early on how to deal with folks who have ulterior motives for getting close to her. She doesn't need that BS from her own mother!
Over the years, movie nights with Uncle Luka will sometimes inspire new interests and hobbies for Kitty. Like when she wanted to learn how to use a whip after watching Indiana Jones, or getting into Egyptology and ancient cultures after watching The Mummy films, both the original horror films from 1932 starring Boris Karloff, and the 1999 movie starring Brendon Frazer.
Kitty did eventually learn how to use a whip. It even helps her practice using precision with her Umbrakinesis abilities. As well as winning first place at last year's Halloween costume contest when she dressed up Julie Newmar's iconic Catwoman, complete with whip stunt demonstration and terrible cat puns.
The 1999 Mummy film also helped young Kitty realize she was Bisexual as she developed crushes on a good part of the main cast; Brendon Frazer, Rachel Weisz, Oded Fehr, and even Patricia Velasquez.
Likewise, these movie nights sometimes inspired a few fears and phobias. Such as when Luka made the mistake of showing her Mimic, directed by Guillermo del Toro, and she developed an intense fear of cockroaches. She liked del Toro's other films, and usually, when a scary movie bothered her, learning more about the subject made her less scared. Like after she watched Jaws, she got less scared when she learned real sharks are much different than from the movie.Cockroaches were the exception, though the more she learned about the insects, the more they freaked her out.
Despite already being pretty tall, Kitty tends to wear high heels, except when she's relaxing, exercising, or doing missions. She claims she likes the added height because other than her mother, she's the shortest one out of her relatives by comparison (although at 6ft./182.88cms, she isn't that much shorter than her Uncle and Grandparents). Also, the thin heels can make an effective impromptu stabbing weapon in a pinch. Why do you think Stiletto heels share their name with a type of dagger?
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daydadahlias · 1 year
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sometimes i open asks and i just wanna post them w/ this response and nothing else
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bc some of y’all really do be saying things to me
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tikki-wikki · 2 years
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Hello I am pico the angel and I just want to say hi :)
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I SWEAR HES NICE HES JUST VERY NIT PICKY WHEN IT COMES TO HIM COMING ACROSS OTHER ANGELS
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incognit0slut · 14 days
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Behind Closed Doors
Part two
Your admiration of his vest leads you to an empty office with his face buried between your thighs—and an urgent Emily demanding your whereabouts.
Warnings: (18+ MDNI) soft!dom spence (are we even surprised), fingering, oral sex (f), semi-public, slight overstimulation, and Emily kind of overhears because she calls Reader in the middle of the deed (oops). 5k words
A/n: I don’t have any excuse for this one, I just wanted to rewrite this scene of him because looking at it is not enough
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You heard him before you saw him. It wasn't his voice per se, but the distinct sound of rapid shots cutting through the air. The noise seemed to intensify as you stepped into the control room, almost overbearing, but you'd long since grown used to its piercing sound.
"Is that Reid?" You asked, your polished boots echoing into the confined space. The officer monitoring him through the surveillance camera glanced over at you, and even though her expression didn't betray outright displeasure, you could hear a subtle edge in her voice.
"Agent Y/L/N," she greeted, her eyes darting between the rows of monitors, then to you, and finally settling on the clipboard in her hand. "You're not supposed to be here."
"Actually, I am. It’s Tuesday, my usual training day.”
"Not for another hour."
"I know," you countered, holding up your wrist to check your watch. "But I have some spare time, thought I’d come by early."
“I’m afraid it’s occupied right now. Agent Reid is still in the middle of his test."
This caught your attention. "What test?"
She glanced at you, her expression conflicted. "It's just a routine evaluation."
"He's currently not an active agent," you pointed out. It hadn’t been too long since his release from prison. It didn’t make any sense for him to go through an evaluation, not when he was behind bars for the past few weeks. Then recognition dawned on your face. "He's being evaluated to rejoin the team, isn't he?"
"I... I'm not at liberty to discuss that," she replied. Her gaze faltered momentarily before she nodded slowly, confirming your suspicions. "But yes, it's standard procedure for agents returning from extended leave."
"Oh wow—okay," you responded, absorbing the information. Your eyes flickered towards the monitor. "How's he doing?"
Her lips formed a thoughtful line before she answered, "Like the second coming of Wyatt Earp."
You let out a laugh, finding the comparison amusing. You'd known Spencer for what, three, four years? While he wasn't bad with firearms, comparing him to a historical figure like Wyatt Earp seemed a bit exaggerated. However, as you watched him through the monitors, despite your initial skepticism, you couldn't deny the truth in her words.
You had witnessed him handle a gun countless times, but always in situations where there was a real threat, where you both had to be on high alert. Yet as you observed him now from a different perspective, it was hard to tear your eyes away. It was as if he was in his element, and Spencer Reid in his element never looked so... attractive?
Now that wasn't an exaggeration. Although you had never admitted this to anyone—god forbid what your teammates would say—there was an undeniable charm to the confidence he exuded. While Spencer had always been attractive, there was something different about the way he handled the gun.
You were sure it had something to do with his time in prison. After all, who wouldn't be affected by such a daunting place, especially when you weren’t supposed to be there in the first place? Yet, surprisingly, Spencer seemed to be coping better than you expected. Despite the toll it must have taken on him, it was evident that his experiences had shaped him, perhaps more than he let on.
Although he was still the same sweet, adorable guy you considered one of your closest friends. But you weren't sure your current observation of him fitted the typical definition of friendship… because there was nothing remotely friendly about the thoughts running in your head right now.
Not only was it not friendly, but it wasn't exactly innocent. Because look at him. Look at the way he was gripping the gun, his arms defined beneath his rolled-up sleeves. Look at the way his protective glasses covered his face, the black-rimmed frames accentuating his handsome features. And even though you had seen him wear the uniform vest countless times, somehow it was undeniably distracting the way it hugged his chest. 
Yep—there was nothing remotely friendly about how you wanted to climb up the man.
A sudden buzz echoed in the room, snapping you to reality. You glanced up and noticed the officer you were talking to entering the monitor screen and it dawned on you that you had been so distracted by your thoughts that you hadn't realized she had left the control room.
"I'll send the results to the review board this evening," the officer's voice resonated from the screen.
"Did I do okay?" His voice came through.
"Like the second coming of Wyatt Earp," she replied, echoing her earlier assessment. Her gaze shifted to the printed cardboard image of a man, supposedly representing the Unsub, which was shredded right around the face. "Or... Al Capone, maybe."
You observed Spencer's slight nod as she turned and walked out of the screen. Quickly, you exited the control room and met her in the hallway.
"Agent Y/L/N," she called out as she spotted you. "You can have the room in five minutes—"
"I need to reschedule."
Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Reschedule?"
"Uh... yes, something urgent came up," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual.
She regarded you for a moment before nodding. "Alright, just let me know when you want to reschedule."
"I will, thank you," you said quickly. Sensing her lingering gaze, you added, "Oh, I'm just waiting for Reid. I need his help on... something."
A faint smile played on her lips, though she didn't press further. "Of course, I'll leave you to it then." 
With a nod, she turned and walked away just as the door at the end of the hallway opened, revealing Spencer emerging from the room. His eyes met yours in confusion, and you could sense his curiosity as he approached you.
"Hey," he greeted. "What are you doing here?"
You cocked your head to the side.
What were you doing here? 
You took a moment to gather your thoughts before offering a shrug. "Just passing by, I guess."
His brow furrowed slightly as if he sensed there was more to your answer than you were letting on. "Alright," he said, though his curiosity lingered in his gaze.
You shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, suddenly feeling the need to change the subject. "So, how did the evaluation go?"
"So you've heard.”
"Yeah," you confirmed, starting to walk down the hallway as he stepped in pace beside you. "I can't wait for you to be back on the team. Officially, that is."
"If they let me back on the team."
"Of course they will," you reassured him, your hand finding its place on his shoulder, offering support. "You're more than qualified."
He sighed, and you tried not to notice the subtle movement of his vest across his chest, or how it shifted under your touch. "You think so?"
"I know so," you affirmed, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Trust me, they'll definitely bring you back."
He stopped his pace, and so did you, before his eyes flickered towards your hand on his shoulder. He must've sensed something different, considering you weren't exactly the type of person who liked physical contact. Neither of you were, actually. While Spencer was known for his aversion to germs, you simply preferred maintaining a certain level of personal space.
"Seriously," he wondered, his tone laced with curiosity. "What are you doing down here?"
You cleared your throat. "I told you, I was just passing by."
"Really? Is that why you're talking to me instead of going through your usual training?" he pressed on. "It's Tuesday. I'm well aware of your schedule."
Damn him and his eidetic memory. You shifted away from his gaze. "Can't a girl just choose to have a chat with a friend?"
"You chose me over your scheduled routine?” his lips curved into a subtle smile. “Am I that much of a distraction?”
Yes, that damn vest is distracting me.
"Distraction might be a bit strong,” you replied, the lie sounding feeble even to your own ears.
"So you’re admitting I’m slightly distracting?"
"I never said that.”
Spencer leaned in and you felt the heat of his proximity radiating from his body. "But you didn't deny it either.”
You felt a faint blush creep onto your cheeks as you realized the shift in his tone. Dare you say he was... flirting with you? Or was it just your imagination running wild? From the corner of your eye, you caught the subtle way he licked his lips, and without meaning to, your own gaze was drawn to the movement.
It was a habit of his, one you'd observed countless times before whether it was out of concentration or a mere reflex. But seeing it up close now, the way his tongue traced the curve of his bottom lip, was driving you insane.
You swallowed hard. This was not friendly behavior. A friend wouldn't be imagining what it would feel like to have his tongue on your lips instead.
"Y/N?"
Your face felt hot as you met his gaze. "I..."
Before you could respond, the sound of laughter and chatter from down the hallway reached your ears. You heard Penelope's unmistakable giggle with JJ's animated voice, and suddenly your instinct took over. Without a second thought, you reached out and grabbed Spencer’s arm, pulling him into an empty office nearby. 
The door shut with a soft thud, and you frowned, suddenly feeling embarrassed. You didn't want to be caught in a state of flustered panic like some nervous school girl talking to her crush, but as Spencer stood behind you, you realized you were overreacting. The more you dwelled on it, the more absurd it seemed to hide away when there was no reason to.
With a sigh, you turned to face him. "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to..."
But as your gaze met him, your words faltered because he was standing closer than you expected. Close enough that the color of his eyes seemed to intensify under the soft light filtering through the window—a rich brown, like warm chocolate, with specks of gold that danced in the sunlight.
Your eyes involuntarily traced downwards, from the sharp lines of his nose to the curve of his lips, lingering on the stubble lining his jawline. Your mind wandered, and now you couldn't help but wonder how it would feel having it against your skin. Or how it would feel pressed against your thigh.
Your face grew hotter at the thought.
"Y/N? Are you alright?" he asked, taking a step forward. You squeaked in surprise, an actual high-pitched sound leaving your lips, as you felt the hard surface of his vest pressing against your chest.
"It's just..." You hesitated, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. "You're standing really close..."
He glanced down at you, his eyes resting on your lips. "Do you want me to move?"
"I... uh..."
His eyes flickered back up to meet yours. "I'll take that as a no."
Before you could process his words, his hand reached up, fingers gently gripping your waist. You felt a rush of heat spread through you at his touch, the sensation seeping through your shirt and you found yourself leaning into him, your breath catching in your throat as his face hovered closely above yours.
It was happening. Your heart pounded in your chest as his lips drew closer. You couldn’t believe it, he was going to kiss you—Spencer-fucking-Reid was going to kiss you.
But just as his lips hovered dangerously close against yours, he suddenly stopped.
"Just to make this clear," he began, running a thumb along your side. "I respect you, both as a friend and a colleague. I don't want to force you into anything you're not comfortable with, so if you think this is pushing any boundaries then—"
"Spencer," you cut in. "Just kiss me already."
With a hint of relief and a small smile playing on his lips, he finally closed the gap between you.
You never imagined his lips could be so soft. He had the softest lips that moved against your own with a hint of coffee and something undeniably sweet. Those soft, soft lips parted away from yours for a moment before he leaned back in, more desperate, more needy. And when he swiped your bottom lip with his tongue, seeking entrance, you couldn't help but welcome him with a soft moan of pleasure.
He devoured you then, his tongue pushing eagerly into your mouth, his lips enveloping you with a hunger that left you breathless as he pressed himself against you. Before you could fully grasp what was happening, you were walking backward until your back collided with the solid surface of the desk. 
With strength you didn’t know he possessed, he effortlessly lifted you and perched you on top of it, prompting a surprised squeal to escape your lips. He laughed in response but you were too caught up in the moment to worry about whether he found you amusing. 
Your hands eagerly roamed over his chest, fingers curling around the strap of his vest as you pulled him closer. He slipped between your parted legs with ease and when he pressed his evident bulge against your core, you both gasped in pleasure.
"We should... we should probably stop, right?" he murmured, his voice muffled against your lips. Despite his words, his actions betrayed his self-control as he began to roll his hips against you.
“We're at work, someone might—” He groaned. “Someone might… hear us..."
He was right, but you found yourself unable to care about anything else but the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your heat.
"We could stop, or..." you found yourself saying without thinking. Your hands moved with a mind of their own, finding their way between you as you started to unbutton your shirt, the fabric slipping away to reveal more of your skin. 
"Or..." He prompted, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip yet again, his breath coming out in shallow, ragged bursts.
"Or..." you repeated, pushing the front of your shirt open. "We could be quiet."
"We could be quiet," he agreed all too quickly. "We could definitely be quiet."
You let out an amused laugh. "We’re going to get in trouble if anyone finds us."
“Then you shouldn’t make a sound.”
“Me? What about—oh.”
His lips were already trailing down your body, leaving soft kisses as they lingered on your neck, across your collarbone, and then he moved lower, sucking lightly on the swell of your breasts. A whimper of his name escaped your lips, your fingers entwining in his hair.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes drinking at the sight of your breast pushed up against your bra, a glistening sheen of his saliva coating your skin.
“You are stunning,” he murmured, before leaning back in to place a tender kiss on the spot where your collarbone met your shoulder. “How far do you want to take this?”
You blinked, trying to ground yourself into the moment between the lust fogging your brain. “What do you mean?”
“This,” he muttered as he rutted his hips against yours, drawing a needy moan from you. “How far are you willing to go?”
“If you’re asking whether I want to have sex with you, the answer is a hundred percent yes.”
You could practically feel his smile on your skin as he buried himself in the crook of your neck.
“That’s good to know,” he whispered, causing you to arch your back as your chest pressed against the hard material of his vest. “But I don’t think we can do much considering we’re supposed to be working. Well, you at least.”
You grasped his shoulders, pushing him away to meet his gaze. “I thought we agreed to keep quiet.”
“We can keep quiet,” he assured you, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “But I can’t rush my time with you. Besides, you deserve a much better setting than an unoccupied office full of dust.”
“Sounds like a you problem.”
He chuckled softly, his fingers trailing lightly along your jawline. “Maybe, but it’s more about time, really. I just want to take—” His lips brushed against your cheek. “My time—” A peck on your lips. “With you.”
You melted right there and then. You could’ve sworn you were nothing but a puddle mess. If he wasn’t holding you for support you were sure you could fall right back to the floor.
“Alright then,” you finally said, reaching for the buttons of your shirt with trembling hands only to be stopped as his fingers curled around your wrist.
“What are you doing?”
You shot him a puzzled look. “I thought you didn’t want to have sex right now.”
“I didn’t say anything about stopping,” he replied, releasing your hand before his palms slid up your thighs. “There are plenty of other things we can do.”
You felt the heat rising in your cheeks. “Like what?”
“Well, I guess we'll just have to get creative.”
Your breath hitched when his fingers hovered over the button on your pants. You watched with a mix of excitement and disbelief as he started to undo them, your mind turning into a mushy mess. It was as if every neuron in your brain had decided to stop working.
“Lift your hips for me.”
You met his gaze, trying to summon up your composure but you couldn’t help the nervous twitch of your lips. He smiled at you.
“Come on, pretty girl, we don’t have all day.”
Not only were you melting, but you were practically liquid by now. Your body moved on its own accord—your hands gripping his shoulders as you lifted your hips, synchronizing perfectly with his gentle movements to slide the material over your hips and down your legs.
He placed your pants on the empty space beside you while his eyes never left your body. His gaze lingered on the rise and fall of your chest, and he leaned in, his fingers trailing over your skin before settling on the hem of your panties. His thumb slid to the front, brushing along the delicate material. Your hips bucked as he continued to run his thumb up and down as if he were trying to map out your slick folds over the fabric.
“Look at you dripping,” he mused, his eyes fixated on the way his thumb slid over to your clit. “Are you always this wet?”
Your cheeks heated at the question. He wasn’t even trying to make it come off as dirty talk; he asked it like a normal question, as if he were simply wondering about what you ate for breakfast. But the question alone had your face burning because you did not expect it to come from him.
“I… I guess so.”
“You guess so?” he asked, his tone amused. He hooked his fingers into the material of your panties before pushing it to the side.
“I-I don’t know.” You let out a breathless moan when his fingers grazed your slit. “Whenever I’m turned on, I don’t... I don’t exactly touch myself just to check how wet I am.”
Spencer chuckled softly, angling his hand between your thighs before gently pushing his middle finger into your entrance. You gasped at the sudden stretch, brows furrowing as he pressed further, and your hand instinctively gripped onto his arm.
“Do you often touch yourself?”
Your head fell back as he started to move.
“M-Maybe,” you managed to stutter out.
"What do you think of when you do?" he asked slowly, his own breath starting to grow shallow as he watched your face contort in pleasure. He observed the way your mouth fell open, your tongue slightly slipping out in the corner, and the way your eyes shut closed. He was fascinated by the effect he had on you, on how just a simple touch had you squirming.
“A… a lot of things,” you managed to reply.
“Have you ever thought of me?”
Whoa.
The question caught you off guard, and you blinked, momentarily stunned.
This was dangerous territory, but then again, nothing seemed quite as risky as being fingered by your coworker on a Tuesday afternoon. So what harm could it be if you admitted that yes, in fact, he had crossed your mind when you touched yourself wishing it was his fingers instead?
A lot of harm, actually. One, it seemed like an inappropriate confession given your friendship. Friends don't usually imagine each other in sexual scenarios. And two, you could die of embarrassment.
"No," you replied, hoping your voice sounded more confident than you felt.
He hummed skeptically. “I thought we were past the point of lying between profilers.” With a pause, he added another finger inside you, causing you to bite down on your lip to stifle a moan. “Is this how you imagined it in your fantasies?”
What was the point of lying now? You swallowed hard, trying to think of a witty response to distract from the intense pleasure coursing through your body.
“Uh… This is slightly better.”
“Slightly? I’m hurt.” He pressed his thumb onto your clit. “What else did you think of then?”
Your cheeks flushed even more. “You… well, um, you also used your tongue.”
The airy laugh he let out sent a shiver down your spine. “Really? And how did that fantasy play out?"
Your heart raced as you tried to find the right words. "Let's just say it involved a lot more tongue action and a lot less talking."
His smile widened, and he leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against your ear. “Then let’s reenact it.” He gently pulled his fingers out of you. “Lay on your back.”
With a shaky breath, you complied, sprawling out on the desk, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through you. When he reached for the waistband of your panties, you couldn't help but crack a joke. "If I knew this was the direction this day was heading, I would've worn my fanciest underwear."
Spencer shook his head. “Trust me, you don't need fancy underwear to drive me crazy."
He then deftly removed your panties, his movements confident yet tender, like he was unwrapping a precious gift. When the fabric pooled at your ankle, he got down on his knees and parted your legs wider, positioning himself between them.
You watched, anticipation building, as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your inner thigh. Then, with a teasing glance, he pressed his lips to your skin, planting soft kisses along the trail of your inner thigh, inching closer to your core.
You shivered at the sensation and your heart raced with every kiss. His hands roamed over your thighs, tracing delicate patterns while his mouth brushed closer to where you craved him the most. You bit down your bottom lip, unable to contain the moan that escaped as his tongue flicked out, grazing your sensitive flesh.
This was definitely better than your fantasies, the ones you'd harbored in secret, too taboo to admit even to yourself. But here you were, living out those desires in the most deliciously real way possible.
You gasped as his tongue lavished your slit, tasting every inch, mixing your arousal that was beginning to drip from your core with his saliva. Your back arched off the desk, thighs trembling and when they threatened to close, he made sure two heavy palms kept them open long enough for his tongue to drag over your clit.
You couldn’t believe this was happening. Somehow it felt like a dream, but everything was real. His face was right between your thighs; his mouth pressed against your cunt, his tongue lapping through your wet folds. And it wasn’t as simple as tasting you, he was eating you, devouring you, swallowing every drop of your arousal as if he couldn’t get enough of your taste.
You started to lose control of your mind, your body, your actions. Your hips bucked to meet his tongue, your jaw slackening as stifled moans spilled from your lips. And that was when you felt it—a faint vibration against your thigh. At first, you thought it was just the sensation of his touch, but then the loud, unmistakable loud ringtone of your phone shattered the moment.
"Shit!" You squealed, scrambling to grab your phone from your discarded pants. The last thing you needed was for someone to discover you in this compromising position.
"It's Emily—“ You pushed his head away, trying to hide your flushed face as he looked at you with surprise. His lips were glistened with your arousal and his hair seemed messier. God, he looked so pretty.
"Don't answer it."
"It might be important." With a pointed look, you silently urged him to keep quiet as you brought the phone to your ear with trembling fingers. “H-Hey... what's up?"
Emily's voice came through the line, slightly muffled by the sounds of commotion in the background. “Hey, I need you to review the report you submitted yesterday, you left a few details about the Unsub.”
Spencer's lips brushed against your inner thigh, sending a shiver down your spine, and you had to bite back a moan. You shot him a warning glare, mouthing ‘stop’ before turning your attention back to the call.
“Y/N? Are you listening?”
“Yeah,” you breathed out. “So… um, which report?”
"The case in Florida," your boss explained. "You mentioned that the Unsub was targeting women between the ages of 25 and 35…”
You were trying to listen, you really were, but it was hard when you felt his fingers ease into your cunt, your juices dripping out, coating his flesh as he curled them inside. You almost let out a whine as his thumb pressed to your clit, caressing in circular motions. 
“…he's also been stalking younger women."
Your eyes screwed shut as he sped up his pace. His touch was driving you crazy, and you could barely register the conversation over the sounds of your own arousal echoing in the room.
“Y/N.”
You snapped your eyes open, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks as you tried to concentrate on the call. "Uh, yeah, go on," you managed to stammer, hoping she didn't notice your wavering tone.
“Are you okay? You sound... off," Emily's voice cut through the haze of pleasure. You shot Spencer another pleading look, but he simply smiled at you with a hand still between your thighs and the other slipping underneath your bra.
You forced yourself to take a deep breath, fighting against the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. "Uh, yeah, I… I-I’m doing my training.”
You mentally cursed yourself for the terrible excuse. Emily didn't seem entirely convinced. "Training?"
"Yeah, you know, the uh... firearm training? I-It’s Tuesday.”
There was a pause on the other end before she spoke again. “Are you sure you’re okay? You sound like you're in pain."
You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan as his fingers curled inside of you. "No, no, I'm fine. Just... a little out of breath from all the… shooting."
Spencer let out an incredulous scoff, and you shot him a pointed glare.
“Are you with someone?”
You hesitated, racking your brain for a believable excuse, but all you could muster was a feeble, "Uh, nope.”
There was a pause on the other end, and the tension in the air seemed to thicken as your body flushed with heat. Meanwhile, Spencer seemed intent on torturing you, never stopping his pace. If anything, it seemed like his movements were increasing. Just when you thought you couldn't feel more exposed, another scoff echoed through your ear, this time from Emily.
“Alright, where are you really?” she pressed, her tone indicating she wasn't buying your flimsy excuse.
“I told you I-I’m doing my training.”
She laughed. “Y/N, we profile people as a job. I can sense your lie even through the phone.”
You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes. What was up with these profilers and their knack for sniffing out lies? You were one yourself, but apparently, you were no match for their scrutiny.
“I’m not—“ your words were cut short when he stood up, hovering above you. You looked up at him, smiling at you innocently as his fingers continued to curl deep inside you. You clutched his forearm with your free hand, attempting to steady yourself.
"I'm not lying," you managed to squeak out.
"Mhm," came Emily's voice from the other end. “Just come by my office and grab the report, okay?”
Your breath hitched as his fingertips delved deeper, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight of his hand moving between your legs, coated in your arousal with each thrust. You could feel your orgasm edging closer. Your hips moved in sync with his motions as the pressure built, the tension coiling tighter in your stomach and—
“Y/N!”
“Y-Yes, I’m… I’m coming.” Spencer's low chuckle filled your ears, and you realized what you'd unintentionally implied. Your eyes widened in embarrassment. “I mean, I-I’ll be there soon, okay, bye!”
You quickly slammed your phone down on the desk, ending the call with a thud. But before you could even take a breath, Spencer's fingers were back to their rapid pace, driving you to the edge of sanity. Your body staggered under his touch, your hips moving in sync with his relentless rhythm, the world outside the room fading away into a blur of pleasure.
"A-Ah—w-wait, fuck—"
You barely managed to utter a protest before his hand covered your mouth, muffling your cries of pleasure. Your back arched, your head thrown back as you tightened your grip on his wrist, your body writhing beneath him as your orgasm consumed you.
It lasted longer than you expected and Spencer seemed determined to push you over the edge as he shifted his attention from your cunt to your sensitive clit. His fingers withdrew momentarily, only to return with a renewed intensity, applying just the right amount of pressure.
Your senses were on overload as you moaned into his hand, the sound muffled but still audible. He worked you, over and over, and you didn't even know your body could take so much. Every stroke, every caress sent sparks of pleasure coursing through you, building up to an intensity that bordered on overwhelming.
Your legs shook uncontrollably as the sensations reached a fever pitch. It was all too much, too intense, and in a moment of desperation, you pushed his hand away. When the last tremors of your orgasm finally faded away, you collapsed back onto the desk, panting heavily, your limbs feeling like jelly. 
Spencer removed his hand from your mouth, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he watched you catch your breath. “Are you okay?" 
You nodded weakly. “Yeah, just… that was intense.”
“Good intense?”
“Really good intense,” you replied with a sheepish grin, which only made him smile. With shaky hands, you pushed yourself up from the desk, feeling a wave of satisfaction wash over you. As you began to dress yourself, you couldn't help but steal a glance at him—or rather, the evident bulge underneath his pants.
“That… that doesn’t look comfortable,” you remarked.
Spencer waved off your worry with a dismissive chuckle. “Don’t worry about me, I can take care of it myself.”
“Here? At work?” Your eyes widened at the implication. “I didn't know you had it in you.”
He cocked his head to the side. “That’s not what I meant. It’ll eventually go away if I ignore—stop staring at it,” he added with a laugh. “You’re not helping.”
Your gaze lingered a moment too long on his bulge. "I can think of another way to help.”
Spencer's breath caught in his throat, his imagination running wild with possibilities, but he quickly regained his composure. "Go," he said, gently nudging you towards the door once you were properly dressed. "Emily's waiting for you."
Your eyes swept over him and a wave of awkwardness suddenly washed over you. What was the protocol after experiencing the most intense orgasm of your life? Shake his hand? Give him a high-five? You couldn't help but stifle a nervous laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
After a brief moment of contemplation, you decided to trust your instincts. With a hint of hesitation, you stepped closer and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. He blinked in surprise, but before he could respond, you were already rushing to the door.
He couldn't help but smile as he watched you leave, a tingling sensation lingering on his cheek where your lips had briefly touched. But as he licked his lips absentmindedly, he couldn't shake the taste of your arousal that lingered there.
Groaning softly, he shifted uncomfortably as his mind filled with vivid images of you squirming under him; your mouth agape, eyes half-closed, your pretty legs spread apart. The memory of your moans echoed in his ears and his cock stirred in his pants. 
He sighed, realizing he was in for a long day if he didn't do something about it. With a slight grimace—and the embarrassment gnawing at him for what he was about to do—he let his feet carry him to the nearest bathroom.
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emo-batboy · 9 months
Text
Battinson and the JL ft. His Eventual Identity Reveal
(If you’re just here for the cutesy bits, skip to Attempt #2. Otherwise, STRAP IN CUZ IT’S A LOT)
Bruce Wayne of Matt Reeves’ The Batman is not the founder type.
He wouldn’t voluntarily join a book club, much less join a league of super powered vigilantes whom he does not know personally.
So in this universe, you probably wouldn’t call him one of the three Founding members.
But he’s still integral to the formation of the Justice League
It starts out with a friendly visit :)
Bruce is patrolling on a random night in Gotham when he notices a weird thing in the sky. It’s floating just far enough behind him that a less vigilant person wouldn’t have noticed, but Bruce is always watching his own back, and he takes it as a threat.
He strays from his usual path and then heads to a warehouse roof before turning to face the threat.
It’s Superman. All smiley and dressed in primary colors. The strongest, most powerful being on Earth just floating over like he wasn’t stalking Batman a second ago. Bruce does not like that.
“What do you want with Gotham?” He asks. “I don’t,” Superman says. “I wanted to talk to The Batman.” So this is some kind of fight? An intervention? A warning? Then Superman frowns. “You…are The Batman, right?”
Bruce only nods as he considers his options, but he can’t really do that when Superman has super speed, super sight, super strength, super breath, super lots-of-things-that-Batman-probably-doesn’t-know-of.
Then Superman surprises him by landing on the roof and giving him this pitch about a superhero group.
Superman and a few other vigilantes have been bouncing around the idea of teaming up together so they can help one another protect their cities. And The Batman was a “perfect candidate.”
“I’m not joining your club.” “It’s not a club. It’s a league.” “What’s your mission statement, then?” “A what?” Bruce fights the urge to roll his eyes. He still doesn’t trust this guy. “Take your league idea back to the drawing board then we can talk.” He does not intend on talking.
But two months later, Superman is back. This time, he brings another super powered vigilante named Wonder Woman.
She smiles, politely approaches him, and says “Superman tells me you want to learn more about our league.” That is not what he said, but he doesn’t bite.
Bruce can’t decide which they remind him of more: college recruiters or cult leaders. But because Wonder Woman genuinely seems to care about seeing this project through, and the roster she has of current like-minded vigilantes is impressive, he lets her talk.
And to give her credit, she definitely thought out the logistics more. It almost makes up for the time they’re wasting.
Okay, fine. They’re still way behind on concept, and it’s pitiful. He actually feels bad.
They obviously care! They just have no idea how to run a business like he does. Is it a bit cynical to think of this league of Justice as a business? Yes, but that’s the only way he can even conceive this happening and working.
Bruce asks about their organization’s leadership structure, and that’s when Wonder Woman falters a bit. “We want to work with each other, not for.” Bruce bites his tongue on that subject.
He asks about their scope of work. “We want to help as many people as we can, but that can be ironed out later.” Bruce bites his tongue on that subject.
He asks “Who’s funding this?” She answers, “We have a few members willing to pitch in, but the majority will have to come from generous citizens.” And that’s when he just stops asking questions. Because what?
If he could cry the grease paint off, he would.
They can’t just think every super-powered vigilante is going to sing Kumbaya and braid each other’s hair. There needs to be checks and balances within the organization to avoid tyranny and corruption. They need a reliable source of donations (that doesn’t immediately out Bruce.) They need a proper chain of command. They need to map out their area of responsibility. They need to design a VERY strict vetting process. It’s not sunshine and rainbows. It’s hard work!
So he says he’ll think about it again and complains to Alfred about the weird super stalkers.
But for SOME reason, Alfred doesn’t see the problem
Alfred encourages him to join so he can “make some friends.” But how can he trust these people if they can’t even make a half-decent pitch? It’s like a bad episode of Shark Tank.
And “make friends?” They’re all masked
But after a week of gentle nudging (read: very firm lectures), Bruce agrees. ONLY to keep tabs on the rest of the vigilante world and possible threats to Gotham
(And without his help, they’ll probably butt-dial Lex Luthor the nuclear codes or something)
And he is damn well going to figure out who these people really are before he helps them make a Super Organization.
Alfred figures out about half of their secret identities purely as a brain exercise while Bruce is out fighting crime and collecting head injuries like Pokémon cards. They figure out the rest together.
They also develop contingency plans for every single member. Just in case.
And after months of Batman being visited by random vigilantes, whom he has several choice words for about personal space—“This is my city. Go away.”—he accepts. On several conditions.
Not all of them are appreciated.
Attempt #1: “Making Friends”
After several scheduling conflicts, a lot of prep work, and a really good hype session in front of the mirror, Bruce heads on over to the first official meeting.
Batman arrives with a long list of things they need to do before going public. The first thing on the list?
Write A Mission Statement
What the fuck are they actually trying to do? Bruce thinks this is a great starting point.
And you’d think (you’d think) this Justice League thing would be easier to tolerate than the drawn-out exec meetings he has to sit through with boring, old businessmen who keep delaying things so they can hash out every little detail.
To Bruce’s absolute horror, he BECOMES the boring businessman who’s delaying things so they can hash out every little detail. He misses the boring, old businessmen. At least they knew what they were doing.
Every turn, he is argued with.
“Why do we need a mission statement?” “‘Power Structure’ feels authoritarian. Can’t we just share leadership duties?” “Do we really need this much paperwork?”
Bruce has the audacity to say, “We need to develop some sort of protocol that helps us analyze any possible threat.” But no. “Why can’t I just jump in? I have eyes.” “Jumping in without studying an opponent’s behavior could cause more harm than good,” he insists. “So what? I’m going to watch an alien monster go on a rampage through my city instead of fighting it?” “Yes. You don’t know what it’s capable of.”
Bruce already regrets joining.
All he hears is the others gossiping. “Is this guy really telling us how to be heroes?” “He’s got a major stick up his ass.” “I knew we shouldn’t have let him join.” And if that doesn’t dissuade him, he doesn’t know what will.
“How was the first meeting?” Alfred asks. Bruce scowls. “I’m not making friends.”
Nonetheless, Bruce sticks it out for weeks until they have some semblance of an organization. And, to his shock and amazement, it…kind of works.
The Justice League makes its debut, and Wayne Enterprises generously donates some money “out of spite” after Lex Luthor publicly denounces the league. (Honestly, Bruce would too if he hadn’t personally duct-taped it together himself.)
But the league starts small, just like he told them, they respond to natural disasters and public safety threats first (as per the outreach initiative) and focus on protecting communities in need (as per the mission statement.)
Yes, they still think Batman has a stick up his ass because he’s a stickler for writing incident reports, but no one else reads them so he has the right to be pissed.
He’s almost kind of sort of content with how it’s going. Even his reputation as a vigilante is improving.
That’s when another glaring difference between him and the other members appears.
Despite looking the same age as the rest of the team, Bruce is actually much younger?? Even excluding the aliens, gods, etc.
Most of his teammates are in their late 30’s, early 40’s. Meanwhile, Bruce is at the ripe age of 29 and a half.
He is the youngest by ten years.
Everyone kind of just assumes he’s the same age, though, so they make references to 80’s kids stuff that he only vaguely understands through Alfred and his business partners. He just sits there in silence like a child who snuck over to the adult table and is waiting to get caught.
So on top of the rift he (accidentally) created when they started the organization, it’s even harder to connect through similar interests. Other than punching people together.
And Bruce Wayne has a bad case of imposter syndrome when it comes to their superpowers.
He’s always in the corner brooding, and everyone’s like ummm antisocial much?
But 50% of the time, it’s because he’s thinking “I’ll never amount to the incredible heroic feats everyone else has accomplished. How can I possibly make a difference to the world if I’m already struggling to save Gotham?” Like a little emo freak 🖤
(Meanwhile, you couldn’t pay those mf’s to step foot in Gotham. This Bat guy’s crazy and he’s human apparently?! No way. Nuh uh.)
The OTHER 50% of his “brooding” is Bruce standing to the side with a mixture of concern and judgment because his teammates’ competency in certain areas is…alarmingly low sometimes.
One week, he finds himself thinking, “How do these grown-ass adults not know their way around a digital map? They’re 40, not geriatric.”
Then like a week later, it’s “These fucking war fossils don’t even know Morse code. I gotta do everything around here.”
One of the final straws is when he says, “Did they just break another fucking Keurig? Who does that, Alfred? It’s the fifth one.”
Suffice it to say, he’s not very personable. But is it his fault? Well yeah, a little bit. Like……..65% his fault.
(The remaining 35% is their moaning and groaning whenever Batman calls a meeting.)
Bruce’s irritation is totally justified.
God, he just wants to go home.
Why is he doing this again?
Attempt #2: Actually Making Friends
The first JL member to break through his cold, black exterior is Wonder Woman. She needs help with search and rescue after a sinkhole opens up near an elementary school, but no one’s available until Batman responds to her call.
He’s on the scene in less than an hour and makes quick work in securing the area. Thankfully, she catches him once it’s over. (He always runs off without saying goodbye.)
“Thanks for helping. Everyone else was just so busy. I’m glad you could fly over.” Batman mumbles something that she can’t quite hear. “What was that?” she asks. “I was busy too,” he repeats. She gives him a weird look, and he freezes up for a second as he realizes that probably wasn’t appropriate to say. “I mean…this was more important. There were kids in danger so it didn’t…matter if I was busy.”
Wonder Woman considers how awkward The Batman looks for a moment then smiles. So he really is human. “Well, thank you. The help was very much appreciated.”
Since then, several small acts of kindness and solidarity earn Batman some respect from the rest of the team.
One day, Flash complains about how boring their meetings are so Batman brings a massive bin of fidget toys. After placing them in front of the Flash, he mumbles, “These are for ADHD. They’re useful.” Flash almost cries with relief. He is very touched.
Another day, Green Arrow is severely injured in battle. Without a word, Batman leaves the fight, takes him to a safe location, stops the bleeding, and does it all while repeatedly making sure he’s awake and asking permission to remove certain pieces of clothing.
In another fight, Plastic Man’s mask is thrown off, and Batman sees his face. In a second, Batman tosses a smoke bomb, picks up the mask, and hands it back before anyone else can look. It costs them time and the element of surprise, and Plastic Man knows it, but Batman did it anyway.
A JL member’s stomach grumbles during one too many meetings. Suddenly, their little break room becomes a fully stocked kitchen with shelf-stable meal items and all the basic necessities. There’s a nut-free section, a gluten-free section, everything. The only reason they know it’s him is because anyone else would have admitted to it.
(He renovated the whole fucking thing. In one night. By himself.)
And they all see how gentle he is with children. Countless times, The Batman is spotted prioritizing young civilians at any given moment.
He has lollipops in his belt. And Bluey bandaids too.
It’s the little things that make them feel closer to him :)
And okay maybe his goddamn Mission Statement lecture wasn’t so bad
So they stop moaning and groaning
Okay, now it’s bonding time WOOHOO!!
Attempt #3: Kinda? Friends??
One day, Superman says he isn’t too fond of billionaires (because of Lex, obviously) and goes on a rant about capitalism. Bruce doesn’t dare contribute because 1) he’s the richest man in the world and 2) every other billionaire he’s met is insufferable.
(Including Oliver Queen who Bruce refuses to look at while Green Arrow “defends his city’s billionaire.”)
(And while we’re on the topic of Green Arrow, Bruce cannot forget the disappointing almost-fling two summers ago. He still holds a grudge.)
Green Arrow: “You’re all fashion nightmares. Who wears a cape in the 21st century?” Batman: “At least my facial hair isn’t longer than my dick.” GA: “What was that, Batman?” B: “What?”
Also Bruce is very attracted to Superman.
(He likes older men.)
(Yes, I am referring to Henry Cavill’s Superman.)
(Sue me.)
(But don’t get your hopes up. He does literally nothing about it.)
(Coward.)
One of the JL members complains about how sore they are after a few missions so Bruce cashes in his Monthly Attempt to Socialize and says, “Try yoga. It helps me.” “…Batman, you do yoga?” “Yes. My son got me into it….It’s good for you.” “You have a son?!” He is never socializing again.
They also learn that Batman has the smallest frame on the team. (Like yeah, he’s tall, but he’s also lanky, and everyone else is either an alien or a human dorito.)
One night, they need to sneak through the vents of some building so Bruce offers to do it. Someone says, “It’s a tight squeeze. Are you sure you can fit?” Then he just takes his cape and pauldrons and shoulder pads off and is suddenly like a foot skinnier
“Wait…is this why you’re so good at hiding in the shadows?” Bruce just glares at the Flash for a second before climbing into the vents.
(The answer is yes.)
A betting pool is started over whether or not Batman is part Bat.
In fact, several betting pools begin because no one knows anything about the guy??
Aquaman and Plastic Man go to great lengths to figure out what his hair color is.
They lose their shit once Bruce tells them he’s vegetarian.
Green Lantern: “Every time he opens his mouth, we learn something new. Next, he’s going to tell me he speaks Swahili!” Batman: “I do.” GL: “Oh, come on!”
Superman: “We need someone on the inside for this international operation to work, but that’ll take at least three months undercover.” Batman: “Don’t worry. I have connections.” S: “…In Shanghai?” B: “Yes.”
The Flash adds SHANGHAI?? to his conspiracy board
Bruce needs to stop trying to socialize. It’s better for everyone’s cardiovascular health.
A year or two in, they’re all introduced to Captain Marvel. Bruce is the first and only person to learn his true identity (kid Billy Batson) because Bruce is the only one with a kid. That way, he understands the weird Gen-Alpha humor and references.
Millennia-old deities don’t use the term Flop Era.
And, of course, they play FMK at some point.
(I mean, come on. There are like TWO mature adults on this team, but Martian Manhunter doesn’t know what’s going on until it’s too late, and Wonder Woman is busy at her day job.)
During that particular round, the celebrities are Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor, and Kylie Jenner. Bruce does, in fact, want to kill himself, but he chooses Fuck instead because of this exact conversation:
Green Lantern: Come on, Bats. It’s just a game! Choose already. Batman: No. I’m against killing. GL: Oh, go fuck yourself. This situation is completely hypothetical, and you know it. B: Fine! Fuck Bruce, Marry Kylie, Kill Lex. GL: See? That wasn’t so hard :) Bruce:
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He tried
Attempt #4: Ah shit, FRIEND?
The identity reveal comes about three years after he joins. He’s 32, has three kids, he’s been on hundreds of missions with them, the team’s over twice its original size, and there are domestic terrorists overtaking Manhattan.
Superman, Wonder Woman, The Flash, Green Lantern, Martian Manhunter, and The Batman try to extract as many civilians as possible, but now they’re being hunted. After hiding in a warehouse and considering their options, MM finally suggests that they pose as civilians, which immediately creates uproar.
Bruce, however, realizes this is the only way out.
But it’s not dramatic or badass like that one JL episode. No, instead, he thinks about it, swallows the regret, and just—
Takes off his cowl.
And the whole room falls dead fucking quiet.
Then, “Oh fuck.”
(That was Green Lantern.)
Bruce just shrugs and mumbles, “Martian is right. It’s the only way.” And really fucking hopes the grease paint hides his red face because he is not having a good time right now.
He would rather die, actually, but they need to get somewhere safe and Fast.
The others look him up and down then nod slowly. “Uh yeah.” “Okay, sure.” “This is fine.” “We’ll do that.”
The others begin slowly taking off their suits and changing into something more casual. Bruce takes his off, revealing the skin-tight compression suit underneath, and stuffs his armor in the roll-up duffel bag that’s kept in his belt.
He changes into his drifter outfit, wipes his face clean, and suddenly, The Batman’s just a normal guy. (A very pretty normal guy, mind you. His teammates have eyes.)
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“We can head to my place,” Bruce says. “It’s closer, and I know the train system pretty well.” And yes, he’s pretty soft-spoken outside of the suit, but now it feels even more obvious.
Meanwhile, the others are like—
Oh. My. God.
Oh my god, he’s fucking shy. Batman is acting shy in front of us. Dear fucking god. Batman is Bruce Wayne. And Bruce is shy so Batman is fucking shy?? Bruce is pretty too. Holy fuck. He is very pretty.
And he’s so young?? Oh my god, he’s a BABY wtf?! He’s like four inches shorter. Four inches tall! They’re all towering over him without his massive boots and armor, and he just hunches over with the big duffel bag like he wants to sink into the floor, and he’s so small.
Wonder Woman wants to put him in her pocket.
Sue her.
They end up taking the train back. Bruce has on the mask and cap that hides his face (poor Superman, he really likes his jawline) and they all follow Bruce as he gets off and on several trains at seemingly random stops. THEN when they’re finally in Gotham, they head into an abandoned-looking subway station that leads them into a…cave?? WTF
And in the middle of the cave is an elderly man with a cane and a three-piece suit just lounging on a recliner. (WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK—)
He looks up from his crossword puzzle and says, “Ah! You’ve finally made friends, I see?” Bruce rolls his eyes. “This is not a sleepover,” he gripes. “Shame. I was about to grab your footie pajamas for you.”
The man smiles at them. “A pleasure to meet Master Wayne’s work friends in person. Would you like some coffee? Tea? If you’re like him, this is going to be a long night.”
No one dares to question why this man recognizes them in their civvies
They also can’t tell if the footie pajamas line was a joke or not. After tonight, nothing is off the table.
(This is a minefield of information. Barry is having flashbacks to his conspiracy board. No one is going to fucking believe him.)
They all settle into one corner of the cave. Bruce leaves to change and comes back looking like this:
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(Goddamnit, Clark is having a meltdown. His hair looks so good wet.)
At one point while they’re plotting, Wonder Woman glances over his shoulder to see Bruce checking some sort of security camera. A boy, maybe nine or ten, is sleeping in bed. “Is that your son?” Bruce clearly doesn’t want to answer, but Alfred gives him a look, and Bruce sighs. “One of them. Yes.”
Later, they have to analyze some explosive samples in the cave, and Barry, forensic scientist extraordinaire, has some choice words about the non-sterile environment.
Barry: This doesn’t look safe. Bruce: My lab is perfectly clean and functional. *bat screeches* Don’t worry about that.
For the rest of the night, they use the evidence they have to track down the organization while the rest of the JL suits up and saves NYC.
After a few hours, they’re safe to return to NYC for damage control. But Alfred refuses to let Bruce go with them. “Your sons are worried. Drive them to school, then you’re coming home and sleeping.”
Bruce clearly wants to argue, but the mention of his kids stops him. He sighs and turns to the others who are already changed. “Let me know if you need anything. I can be there in ten minutes.”
They all nod, knowing full well they will not be doing that. The guy clearly needs rest.
(Also, he is a single father of three and still goes out every night to punch robbers and crime bosses? Is he doing okay?)
Then they head back to NYC with so many questions.
But a lot of it makes sense too, actually. Maybe they just weren’t thinking about the man behind the mask enough to see it.
They learned a lot about their friend that night.
And they have a lot of bets to cash in.
FIN
Okay :D that was a lot! If you enjoyed it, please let me know. This has been simmering in the back of my head for months <3 Have a great day and drink some water :)
Hey bestie @bruciemilf
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theyluvkarolina · 5 days
Text
𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊!
Part 2 of `` 𝐈’𝐋𝐋 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 ``
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· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` well isn’t it the conciquences of my own actions! ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ After heartbreak, Y/N decides she’s done with rich men in Formula One. Well, that’s what she thought at first. Besides, what better way to get back at your ex that does competitive sports than to get with his main rival?
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader, Ex!Max Verstappen x Reader
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ Mentions of Jos and some slut shaming (not saying directly)
𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ oh how i love this sorta trope. Will be working on one more request!
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y/n.l/n ✔︎
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, roscoelovescoco and others
y/n.l/n tante y/n spending time with her favorite nephew while mom and dad are out on date day 🩷 (also met a new friend(s) while on a walk🫣!)
tagged ; lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco
3,218 comments
charles_leclerc ✔︎ fatherhood is tiring 😞
→ y/n.l/n ✔︎ i will gladly take leo off your hands 🤗🤗 → charles_leclerc ✔︎ no thank you!!
alexandrasaintmleux the prettiest 🩷
→ y/n.l/n ✔︎ says you 🥹🫶 → charles_leclerc ✔︎ am i interrupting something..? → y/n.l/n ✔︎ yes you are actually
lewishamilton ✔︎ great seeing you!
y/n.l/n you ✔︎ as well! sorry for stopping your run! 😭 lewishamilton ✔︎ no need to worry! it was fun catching up 👊 landonorris ✔︎ “interuppted your run” uh huh… 😏 roscoelovescoco should have brought snacks
username1 LEO LECLERC!! 🗣️ 🔥
→ username2 leo *SAINT-MLEUX leclerc
username3 TANTE Y/N!!
→ username4 she can be my aunt anytime → username5 i’m tired of this @ username4.
username6 ROSCOE MENTION
username7 the lewis hamilton tag??? 🤨
→ username8 NO BECAUSE WHY IS NOBODY TALKING ABOUT THIS?? → username9 call me delusional but what if lewis and y/n get together 🤭🤭 → username10 yeah you’re delusional!! → username11 i mean… considering they both live in monaco and it’s break right now for f1… i wouldn't be surprised if they start getting friendly
username12 her outfit is so 😍😍
lewishamilton ✔︎
📍 Monaco
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liked by kimi.antonelli, tommyhilfiger, irinashayk, and others
lewishamilton fun day out 📸
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username13 lewis serving as usual 🥱
username14 UHM…. SIR LEWIS CARL DAVIDSON HAMILTON… WHO IS THAT WOMAN?
→ username15 based off how she dresses and who he recently met, it has to be y/n no way it’s some other girl.
landonorris ✔︎ a new missus??? 🤔
→ username16 tell us what you know @ landonorris. → username17 this is a threat @ landonorris → username18 stalk lewis @ landonorris → landonorris fucking hell guys let me live i’m as lost as you 😞😞🙏
username19 the y/n and lewis collab was something i did NOT know I needed….
username20 we lost him ladies 😞😞👊
→ username21 lost him??? nah we lost HER
y/n.l/n ✔︎ too fun!
Liked by lewishamilton
→ lewishamilton favorite part was when you fell in the water 🤣 → y/n.l/n ✔︎ we promised to not talk about that…
username22 what do you guys know about y/namilton post y/nstappen breakup??
→ username23 bro thinks lewis hamilton will get with max verstappens ex 💀
y/n.l/n ✔︎
📍 Monte Carlo, Monaco
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liked by lewishamilton, rebeccadonalson, maxverstappen1 and others
y/n.l/n rest and relaxation ☕️ 🌞
3,210 comments
username24 my girl knew the assignment
→ username25 and got graded a 8/8 🤭🤭
lewishamilton ✔︎ oh wow 😍
lewishamilton ✔︎ the prettiest girl in the world 💫
→ y/n.l/n ✔︎ oh?? 😳 → username26 UHMM… → username27 lewis… i don’t think you know you’re on your main… → username28 lewis’s comment isn’t wrong she knew how good she looked 😫 → username29 PRETTIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD??? → username30 OKAY WE SEE YOU SHOOTING THE SHOTS HAMMY → username31 HAMMY??? 😭😭
username32 the max like???
username33 the way she’s so much more happy now with all the max drama subsiding :(
username34 great now she’s moving on from one driver to another 🙄
→ username35 honestly! i’m suprised no one called her out on that. → username36 champion hopper 😂
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lewishamilton ✔︎
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lewishamilton 🩶
tagged ; y/n.l/n
7,654 comments
y/n.l/n ✔︎ mwah mwah 😽
→ lewishamilton ✔︎ ❤️ → landonorris ✔︎ yuck. → carlosainz55 ✔︎ don’t worry guys lando is just jealous. → landonorris ✔︎ jealous??? as if → landonorris ✔︎ okay maybe a bit.
username37 IS THIS THE HARD LAUNCH??🫣
username38 I KNEW THEY ALREADY KISSED BUT DAMN
username39 THEY DIDN’T EASE INTO IT 💀
username40 LEWIS AND YN SAID “fuck the soft launch” 😭😭
username41 Rip max verstappen pre-y/n breakup, you would have loved this baddie…
→ username42 @ username41 nah max didn’t fight for their relationship he doesn’t deserve y/n in her hottie era → username43 @ username42 YOU SPEAK THE TRUTH!!
username22 WTF DID I SAY @ username23
→ username23 i plead the fifth.
alexandrasaintmleux écoute ici, petite merde. tu lui brises le cœur, Charles et moi serons devant ta porte, les couteaux à la main et prêts à frapper. Elle mérite le monde et tu ferais mieux de le lui donner. ❤️ 🤗
→ username44 alex being such a sweet and supportive friend 🥹🫶 → username45 DID WE READ THE SAME COMMENT??? → username46 french speaker here 🙋 i can confirm that alex did infact say how happy she is for y/n and lewis and that she can’t wait for them and y/n and charles to go on double dates!! → username46 that is what i would say but she very much said the opposite!! → lewishamilton ✔︎ oui oui madame. 🫡
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moonsaver · 2 months
Text
You were his sister's enemy.
Well, he rather assumes it.
Robin defends you whenever he scorns at you, and simply mentions you as someone who just has trouble communicating. Sunday, on the other hand, does not take to your mannerisms politely. Although distance and discord within branches of The Family have long shifted his attention from his sister and their once joint dream, it doesn't mean his protectiveness of it has vanished.
Your singing was nowhere near as perfect as his sister's, he believes. Robin defends you, saying you're great in your own way, and both of you have different styles of singing. He comments on your more mature look with disdain, thinly admonishing it as vulgar, while Robin tries to convince him you just work under a sultry concept. Everything you did, it was never as good as Robin's, and whenever even a single track of yours threatened Robin's on the chart, Sunday would be displeased. According to him, you were competing for fame with Robin, and even the audacity of you to go such lengths was disdainful.
Robin, however, has been trying to convince Sunday to be on better terms with her lover.
He isn't exactly unnoticing of Robin's new lipstick that's in a different shade than what she'd normally wear. A new perfume that's oddly charming, but expensive, not exactly what he sees her picking out. Hair accessories that he's never seen in her drawers, nail polish he's never seen her wear before, a new fresh change to her voice that's making it livelier as of late, which is suspicious, considering all of this takes place simultaneously after she leaves your room.
It's not long until Sunday manages to get a quiet moment with you. Confrontation isn't foreign to him, and neither are implied, cordial threats that are already schemed within the front of his mind as he gently turns the handle to your door.
You greet him politely, as expected, and both of you get talking. He gauges you out, asking you specific and roundabout questions, eyes scrutinizing the familiar color of nail polish on your fingers that were once on Robin's, the half-used bottle of perfume thats slightly peeking out of the poorly hidden drawer which he's sure is something Robin would pick, the glossy, sticky tissue which he assumes you used to wipe off some sheer gloss, which you obviously don't wear.
He's hostile, and he doesn't quite hide it. Warning, teetering on edge, observing and calculating his next question and your responses with every second. But alas, he finally leaves you alone, and silently takes his leave.
-
Sunday hates you. And that is a hill he will surely die on.
Or rather.. what else would you call this ugly, seething feeling inside his chest?
Seeing your eyes soften, your smile quirk up on your usually stoic face, your lazy, languid hands finding their usually hiding spot, tucked onto Robin's waist.
It makes him seethe seeing you do those things with his sister.
Or really, anything you do.
The laugh you share with an overly friendly employee, the side glance, silent communication with some of your audio-managing team, the playful pinching of your cheeks by another singer that's far too comfortable with you.
Your actions are.. despicable. Sure they are. And he starts questioning just why. He deludes himself with any reason that is clearly beyond rationale, and barely constrains a scoff when you try and ask him about his dampened mood.
Of course, he should find them despicable when they're done to him, too. But he doesn't.
And it's even more infuriating. He smiles softly and laughs at some of your words, playfully bumps you from time to time, and chuckles when you return the favor. He feels special when you make certain eye gestures, remember a few inside jokes, and wink at him to keep them a secret. And once he returns to his solitary confinement, it dawns on him, and he should be grinding his teeth to dust from the absolute fury you supposedly induce in him.
But he doesn't.
He's only left with a light feeling in his heart, which slightly, mournfully dampens when he sees you do the same with Robin.
They've shared a dream once. Surely, they can share a love, too?
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midascrow · 2 months
Text
Alastor x Gn!Reader
Favoritism pt.1
part 2
————/////————————//////
Synopsis: the others notice a certain Deer Demons positive behavior regarding one of the staff. (Reader)
a/n: reader is portrayed as pretty meek and quiet. At least upon first meeting people, and I may continue that trait in part 2 or have them open up a bit more.
———————————————/—/——————
“Don’t ya think it’s kinda…I dunno..weird?”
Charlie’s shiny eyes snapped up from the sparkly cards and glue strewn across the living room table. “What’s weird?” Angel hummed, one set of arms crossed thoughtfully as his eyes swept towards the far corner, watching a certain Radio Demon quietly chat with one of the hotels…”staff” members.
“That Smiles, is so sweet on (Y/n) and not the rest of us?” His hand waved around dramatically, watching Charlie’s eyes widen as they spun towards the aforementioned duo, studying them for a moment for any sign of irregular behavior on the deer demons part. Although not much could be considered regular in regards to him
“I’m pretty sure Alastor is just as much of a prick to them as he is to everyone else.” Vaggie huffed from her spot on the couches armchair, a small magazine in hand that she carefully tried to cut apart for the days craft. Scrapbooking, if it wasn’t clear. “…your markers bleeding babe..”
“Oh shoot!”
Angel guffawed, bolting up right and letting his arms flail wildly in disbelief. “No way toots! Don’t you remember when he first brought them ovah? As one of ‘s lil “Helpahs”?” He turned, “Huskers you know what I’m on about don’t ya?”
The grumpy cat deflated with a sigh, setting down a freshly cleaned glass just to pick up another and start again. “That demon, plays with souls and sinners like no other shitlord out there. And that one,” his clawed finger shot out to point dagger straight at you “just so happens to be his favorite. End of story.”
Charlies lips pursed at that, a small shimmer in her expression that made Vaggies brow furrow in stress, watching her lover fall back into her own mind and remember the hotels first ever introduction to you.
—————
“Now my friends, I do have one more favor to cash in on. I expect you all on your best behavior in regards to them..” His red eyes lingered on Angel with a sneer. “I won’t take kindly to any damage done by your hands.” The static that swelled behind his words reached its peak, before muffling once a small figure materialized just beside him.
A clawed hand curled atop your shoulder and if not for the familiar chill, perhaps you would’ve jumped, but the buzz of static and the crackle of a radio was a comforting sound you had grown all too close to.
“Now, this sweet thing is (Y/n), a special little friend of mine who will help you, though- mainly me, keep the hotel on tip top shape- isn’t that right dear?”
Your gaze darted around, and the others watched as you barely made a peep before a gentle smile pulled on your lips and you nodded..strange for someone in the company of the Radio Demon.
“What’s up with them? Can’t talk or what?” Angel mused, almost rudely, winking under your watchful eye that was almost..freakishly intense.
Alastor hummed and buzzed for a moment, gazing down at you in thought. “No No, just a bit shy is all. Always on the quieter side…”
“That won’t be a problem will it?” The static fluxed and swayed around them, shadows scratching at the walls of his underlying threat, that cut through the air.
……..
The princess was admittedly worried by your timid nature. You were almost…paranoid in a sense, looking as if you wanted to melt into the floor at any sign of confrontation, friendly or otherwise.
But…she did notice you seemed oddly at ease around the Overlord. Sticking close, though typically he was the one following you around as you did..whatever it is you were brought over to do.
She was even reminded of one instance, where you had been scuttling around, a stack of fresh dishes held precariously in your clammy hands as you made your way to the kitchen.
Charlie had been too busy at first to notice, she was speaking with Alastor about the future promotion of the hotel, when the loud sound of glass shattering rang through the room.
All heads snapped towards the cause, only to spot you, wide eyed and flat on the floor surrounded by dozens of broken plates and glasses.
Seemed you had tripped on a loose bit of tile.
Now, Husker just had been throughly..scolded by the Hotelier for dropping a bottle just a few hours prior, so the patrons and staff watched with baited breath as the ever encompassing form of the radio demon stalked towards your dejected form.
Vaggie had drawn her spear right as the crash had happened, ready to step in at any moment should she need.
But the others could only watch in surprise as you were gently ushered to your feet with soft dusts off your shoulder, and a little snap of clawed fingers. The mess disappeared in a flash, and your uniform was carefully adjusted by the tall red deer who softly scolded you.
“Now now my dear. You must remember not to overwork yourself. Can’t have you in poor shape now can we?” His words were condescending at best, paired with the gentle pinch of your cheek, but for whatever reason you seemed hardly put off, simply nodding shyly and quickly darting off to continue your next list of….errands, the deers ears swiveled in your direction till you vanished through the corridor.
——/
“Do you think they’re-?”
“Fuckin?”
“I was gonna say dating..” Charlie trailed off uncomfortably, watching tensely as Alastor almost…”playfully” whisked you around the parlor.
“They’re not.” Husks gruff voice cut through, dipped in firm belief that he was right. “That fucker has an angle no matter what, and whatever special treatment they’re receiving is just to follow through with it. That guy can’t even conceptualize caring about someone like that.”
Clearly that incident was still fresh on his mind as he mumbled quietly about how he was cut off from all booze the following week to, help clear his “shaky hands”.
The others grimaced, Vaggie especially as Charlie’s big eyes welled with fat tears. “That’s..that’s so sad!” She wailed, collapsing into her girlfriend’s arms, her reaction subtly mirrored by Sir Pentious who had slithered into the conversation.
“Wh..why are we crying??” He hissed, greated with rolled eyes from the spider and cat, and a dejected sniffle from the princess.
“Al-Alastor’s never been in love!!” She sobbed dramatically, Vaggie cooing in her ear while her hand rubbed her back soothingly.
“Oh..?” The snake perked up, a confused tilt to his head. “But aren’t Alassstor and (Y/n) …?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out! He totally dots on them don’t he Snakes??”
The engineer nodded rapidly, scales shimmering in the dim living room light.
“I told you morons, they’re not and never will-“ Husks aggravation of the topic was clear, the scrubbing of his glass a tad more aggressive.
“But…I jussst ssssssaw them kisssssing the other day…? Up on the terrace?”
…..
“Ex-fucking scuse me?”
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dycefic · 1 year
Text
Tom Saves The World
Everyone knows that it’s super-heroes who save the world. They fight the aliens, or the monsters, or the bad guys. And mostly, that’s true.
But not always.
I’m a psychic. The thing is, my range isn’t that great. I don’t have much detail more than about 36 hours out, 48 for something really big. I’d had a nebulous sort of bad feeling for about a week before this one finally hit, and it was big. Something very tough and very supernatural was going to come up out of the harbor of Nova Roma, and the death-toll was going to be high. Crazy high.
I did all I could. I told the Unaligned Supers Job Placement Agency, and they put the word out to everyone on both sides of the Line. The Henchman’s Union don’t like natural disasters any more than anyone else, and they’re often quite helpful against eldritch horrors and stuff like that. Things that don’t hire henchmen and ruin the property values.
The trouble was, nobody big was around. The only really big team of heavy hitters on the West Coast were away dealing with some sort of doomsday cult - I never was clear on what that was about - and Guarde and Dog Fox were out of touch and even Mx Frantique was out of town at someone’s wedding. It was going to happen in less than two days and we couldn’t find anyone to help and I was seriously considering calling in some kind of bomb threat or something to get people away from the docks, at least.
And then, about eighteen hours out, it just… went away.
Which never, ever happens.
My powers might be short range, but they’re reliable. I don’t get stuff wrong, and I hadn’t been able to find any way to prevent what was going to happen, or even been able to identify anyone who could. But someone did. Someone had done something to stop the threat, something that happened literally while I was opening my car door. When I reached for the handle, thousands of people were going to die. By the time the door was open, there was no threat at all.
At first I thought it must have been a ranged thing. Like, whatever I’d been seeing (all those teeth, I saw them in nightmares for months after) had been distracted by something tasty on its way here and gotten off track, that it’d come up somewhere up or down the coast. My range isn’t that big, either. Anything outside about thirty miles might as well be on Mars for all I know about it. So we kept a watch out, and warned the chapters of the Union and the Agency in other cities.
But nothing happened. Nothing at all. I couldn’t explain it, and I was really unpopular for a while. Supers do NOT like people who cry wolf. There’s enough freaky shit we have to deal with without someone panicking everyone with a dire prophecy that fizzles out.
Thank all the gods that Tunny showed up. Nobody’s really sure what Tunny actually is - sentient fish creature, some kind of really mutated human, an alien, or what. She changes her story a lot. But she’s pretty friendly, especially for a twenty-foot-long horror-movie-mermaid-thing with four arms, so when she came into harbor to pick up some supplies a guy from the Agency went out to tell her what I’d seen. I’d gotten a wharf and dock number, so she went down to check.
I don’t think anyone had ever seen Tunny scared before. Her English wasn’t good enough to really explain what she’d found hibernating down there, but it was something very old and very powerful and very dangerous, and if it’d been woken up my vision would just have been the start of the crisis.
She rounded up a bunch of whales to help her move it, once she was sure it hadn’t been agitated and wasn’t likely to rouse if moved carefully. They towed it out before dawn, not wanting to scare the civilians, and when I saw the footage from the helicopter the Union sent up, when I saw how big the swell was, how many whales were pulling, I swear I nearly crapped myself. No wonder I’d been getting hints a week in advance. Somehow we dumbass humans had built a whole fucking city almost on top of some kind of Ancient Old… THING, and eroded the sea-bottom until it was exposed, and if someone hadn’t done whatever it was we’d all have been dead long before Tunny arrived. And not just all as in ‘all of Nova Roma’, it could have taken out half of the continent... or all of it.
It took me years to find out what happened. YEARS. It turned into a kind of hobby, tracking everything that might possibly have come into contact with Wharf 38 on that particular day.  
And what I found, eventually, was a city employee named Thomas Briggs.
I’d found out early on that 38 wasn’t in good repair. Not that bad, but not great. It was old, things were getting a bit saggy in a few places, but there’d been no sign that anything was likely to fall off on the day. It had sat there for a couple of years after the crisis that never happened,, doing its job without problems then been rebuilt without any drama at all.
Entirely, completely, and totally because of Thomas Briggs.
The story, when I finally pieced it together, went like this.
There’d been some project or other to build some sort of high-budget science project over on the other side of the harbor, hanging it off’ve Pier 8, the furthest out on that side. Something about tracking sea-life or ships or something. My conversational English is near perfect, I’ve been here for years, but I don’t speak science nerd in ANY language. It’d all been approved, some university was covering most of the cost, it was all gonna be fine. And it was gonna be over on 8 because that side of the harbor is the shallow end. It’s where the sailboats go. All the big stuff that would block visual sensors and deafen the thing with engine noise was over in the thirties, in the real deep water.
They were almost ready to install the thing when a bunch of rich dudes suddenly got their panties in a bunch over having a big sciency tower thing ruining the view from their yachts, and tried to get it moved.
To, and I’m sure you guessed this, Wharf 38.
Which was completely insane. It wouldn’t be able to do its job over there, it’d be way more in the way, and (although they couldn’t have known it) the installation would definitely have woken up the Thing sleeping by the wharf and we all would have died. But rich dudes with yachts don’t care about that stuff. They’d bitched out and bribed up their friends on the city council, and those friends had done their thing, and the scientists had been left in the dark, and it’d almost gone through. They’d figured to install it right away, so that when the science guys found out it’d be too late and they’d either have to pay a lot to move it or just use it where it was.
Enter Thomas Briggs.
Mr Briggs, Tom to his friends, didn’t give a crap about the yachts or the science. He was a senior money guy for the commercial wharfs, the one who figured out things like how much money they’d take in in a quarter, and what the repair budget should be, stuff like that. He found out about this thing two days before the disaster would have happened, and sat down and did the math.
Then he sent out an email to the guys trying to push this through, and he ripped into them like they’d threatened to knife his mother. I got my hands on that email, and I didn’t understand a lot of it any more than the council guys would have. It was ALL numbers. But at the top he wrote it out in plain English. Pier 8 was new, and rated to handle the weight of the thingy. Wharf 38 was going to be scrapped in a few years, and it was NOT rated for that kind of structure. Pier 8 had plenty of room around it. Wharf 38 was already a tight fit for the big commercial ships, and adding a structure sticking out on one side would block off at least half of the wharf to those ships completely.
Bottom line, putting the thing on Wharf 38 would cost the city hundreds of thousands of dollars more per year than putting it on 8, AND the city would have to eat the cost if 38 collapsed under it which it could easily do, AND the city would have to pay to move it in a couple of years anyway when 38 was due to be rebuilt.
And he cc-ed every important person he had an email address for, including the mayor, the anti-corruption people, and several reporters.
He must have sent that email right when I was opening my car door.
The whole plan collapsed right there, and some people got fired. There was no news story because the whole plan got killed before the reporters even got to the right office. The installation was started on Wharf 8 a few weeks later and I never connected it to a commercial wharf on the other side of the harbor.
One email, and a man who I never could have located in time, a man who had no powers at all, a man who was just conscientiously doing his job looking after the city’s money saved the city, and the continent, and maybe even the world.
Who could have predicted that? Not me, that’s for damn sure.
I can’t deny that I went home and got drunk off my ass that night. Just thinking about how close that had been made my hands shake. One man. One honest man who’d done the math.
I put the word out, once the hangover wore off. What had happened. That Thomas Briggs was the reason we were all alive and everyone better make his life real nice from now on, because he’d done what none of us could do and nobody but the supers would ever even know it.
He’s got a lot of luck coming to him, I can tell you. We don’t forget debts like that.
And I knew that’d freak him out, because honest men don’t like it when people start doing them a lot of favors for no apparent reason, so I tracked him down at the little bar where he likes to have a quiet beer on Friday nights before he goes home. Hell, I was the one who’d gone through it all, back then. I should get to tell him.
I sat down beside him at the bar and looked at him. I saw a thin, small, balding man who looked like he worried too much and didn’t get enough sleep, with lines around his eyes. Yeah, he looked like a man who’d do the math. “Thomas Briggs?”
He blinked at me through his glasses. “Yes? Do I know you?”
“No, you don’t. My name’s Barkhado Omar, and I’ve been looking for you for a long time.” I offered him my hand and he shook it, still looking confused. Which was fair, ‘cause I doubt a lot of seven foot tall Somali women came up to him in bars even when he was young. He’s got to be close to retirement now.
He frowned. “Looking for me? Why?”
I smiled at him. “Tom, let me buy you a drink and tell you about the day you saved the world.”
It’s usually us who save the city, or the world. We have all the intel, all the advantages, all the powers.
But sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it’s someone like Tom Briggs, doing the right thing at the right time and never knowing that he changed the course of history.
Wild, huh?
--
This story is a direct result of me and my ex chatting about how different the entire Marvel Universe would have been if Jean’s first ‘resurrection’ - being found in a life pod under a wharf, IIRC - had happened at like... any other time. Earlier. Later. It would have changed SO MUCH.
And we speculated about how it could happen, how someone just puttering around in middle management might have unknowingly saved countless lives, prevented Madelyne’s corruption, the legacy virus, all of it, just by postponing that particular set of repairs a bit longer.... and I couldn’t resist writing a version of the story in which Tom does, in fact, save the world.
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writingouthere · 5 months
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neighbor!Sukuna x singlemom!reader. In the aftermath of your apartment flooding, Sukuna makes you a deal that is too good to pass up. You don't fully know what you're agreeing to, but if you did would it have really changed anything? Reader POV
cw: Sukuna may seem like just a nice guy stepping up but really he's a red flag you're just too tired to see. It's hinted reader has not been treated well in the past but no specifics.
You hadn't known what to do when you woke up to the sound of rushing water. You had acted on instinct and grabbed your daughter from the room next to yours and stood in the kitchen, calling your landlord from the number on your lease to no avail. Your daughter was starting to get fussy and after the fourth attempt with no answer, you felt lost.
Your ex hadn't exactly been the reliable type and he probably would have just contributed by cursing and complaining about shitty landlords and even shittier affordable housing but that wouldn't have helped then and thinking about it wasn't helping you now. Single, alone with your daughter who was growing more disgruntled by the minute.
You hated to even consider but, there was someone who you kept coming back to that you thought could help.
Sukuna.
The tattooed man across the hallway hadn't struck you as the friendly type, but he had proved you wrong in the few months since you moved in. He looked like the type of guy you would cross the street to avoid, but he always had time to stop and talk to you when he saw you. He also always made it a point to say hello to your daughter and listen to her rambles, even when they didn't make sense to you.
Your other neighbors had warned you about him. Stories that included threats and assaults you just couldn't connect to the man who had taken you and your daughter to the aquarium when your piece of shit ex bailed on you both, again.
You had googled him afterwards and what you saw was pages and pages that included things like attempted, suspected and scarier words like murder, hospitalized and other things that just didn't fit with the man you were still getting to know.
The water was still falling and once your daughter started waking up, you called it and went over to the maybe scary man across the hall, who never scared you.
Within ten minutes, you found yourself in Sukuna's guest room while he stayed behind at your apartment to figure everything out. When was the last time someone told you, "I got it." You were always the responsible one. You were the mom friend, the girlfriend people liked to introduce to their parents. You had basically parented yourself!
But now, there was someone who told you that, "I got it."
So who could blame you for going along with what came next. When the next morning came and Sukuna told you that your super had come too late and the apartment was damage and you couldn't stop yourself from putting your head in your hands as your daughter happily munched on the pancakes he had made you both.
"What am I going to do," you groaned and you couldn't help but lean in when Sukuna placed his hand on your cheek.
"He said he would put you up in a hotel until it can be fixed," he said gently and you sighed. You envisioned the next several months in some shitty motel with no kitchen, sharing a lumpy bed with your two year-old, disrupting the routines you had been trying so hard to build as a single mom. No more afternoon trips to the park that was less than a block away. No more feeding the ducks with your leftover veggies or sharing pick up duties with the other moms at the daycare by your work.
"This sucks, I don't want to have to build my life all over again." And you really didn't. This was so frustrating and over what, a little water damage?
"Well," Sukuna started and he tilted your head so you were looking at him. "I do have the guest room. You could move some of your stuff over here and camp out until it's fixed. Pocket the hotel money, use it for something for the kid."
"Oh, I couldn't impose on you like that-"
"I wouldn't offer if it was an imposition," he said, his eyes glinting and for just a second you could see a little of the danger your neighbors had told you about, but then it was gone and he was leaning over you to take another pancake from the serving tray and putting it on your daughter's empty plate.
"It's not just for you, I would-I would feel a lot better knowing the both of you were taken care of. I doubt the hotel that-" he cut off looking over at your daughter, "you know is putting you up in is going to be the safest place for the two of you."
You couldn't believe you were considering it but you were so tired. You felt like life had just become a series of less than ideal circumstances you were forced to deal with just because you didn't want to settle for the wrong guy or give your daughter less than she deserved.
"I would pay rent," you said and he looked ready to argue but you held up your hand. He smiled, amused and gestured go on. "Just until they can fix the apartment and if we get to be too much tell me. We can tough it out in a hotel. We've dealt with worse," you added and he frowned before nodding.
"Deal." He turned to look at your daughter and smiled. "You hear that bug, you and mommy are moving in." Your daughter giggled and clapped her syrup covered hands.
"Temporarily," you reminded him and he smiled at you.
"Right, let's go grab the stuff you'll need while you're here temporarily." He went grabbed a towel and wiped your daughters hands while she kept laughing and chanting "move in, move in!"
Is it your fault that you didn't know that your circumstances were anything but temporary?
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yandere-daydreams · 10 months
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Sphinx!Xiao, who finds you stranded in the desert after your research group gets separated. A pack of wild coyote hybrids thought to be amicable, if not friendly towards humans attacked your camp in the middle of the night and sent you running aimlessly into the sand plains without time to gather food or water, let alone distress flares. By the time you stumble onto a wind-beaten temple, you're freezing, dehydrated, and exhausted. You barely have the strength to drag yourself up the meager steps and through the degraded doorway before you collapse on the sandstone floor, only able to hope that, by some miracle, a search party would be able to find you before you died of exposure. A search party doesn't find you, obviously, but Xiao does.
Sphinx!Xiao, who refuses to show himself for days. You only know he's there by the gifts he leaves you - cactus pears, palm dates, flasks of water and bitter wine that burns your throat as it goes down. It's not much, but it's enough to keep you alive, and you're too desperate to turn down anything he gives you. He's generous, too, giving you more than enough to get by while you're still in that state of bleary half-consciousness. You think he can tell that survival's not your area of expertise, that if you were left to your own devices, it'd only be a matter of time before you ate something poisonous or wandered into a bobcat den. That, or you're just pathetic enough to earn a few sand-covered blankets on top of the bare necessities.
Sphinx!Xiao, who lets you fawn over him with a purse-lipped scowl when you do finally manage to corner your elusive savior. You honestly just want to thank him, but once he's in front of you, you can't help grinning as you rake your fingers through the ivory feathers of his massive wings and scratch at the bases of his rounded ears. You've never so much as heard of a creature with both the wings and eyes of a bird-based hybrid and the legs, tail, and fangs of a cat-based hybrid, so you can't stop yourself from treating him like the eighth wonder of the world (unintended affection a touch-starved Xiao secretly basks in, not that you notice the pale blush painted across his skin while you're performing a remarkably thorough investigation on the color of his paw-pads).
Sphinx!Xiao, who stand-offish at best, reclusive at worst. He's clearly not used to having someone to talk to, his voice rough and his dialogue usually limited to one-word phrases or barked orders, but you can usually manage to string along your brief conversations on your own, either wondering aloud when you might be rescued or telling him about all the things you're going to do when you make it back to civilization. For every hour you spend fantasizing about baths and take-out and air conditioning, he spares a few words about himself. From what you can gather, he's a guardian of-sorts, meant to protect people like you from a threat he claims you couldn't begin to understand. You're not really in a place to question him, considering you didn't even know a hybrid like him could exist a few weeks ago.
Sphinx!Xiao, who also claims he's not allowed to 'meddle in human matters', meaning he can't help you beyond making sure you don't starve to death. You've asked him if he's seen anyone looking for you while hunting, but he's never given you a straight answer, and when you suggest that he just, say, put that twenty-foot wingspan to use and drop you off on the edge of the nearest town or village, he just scowls, rolls his eyes, refuses to say anything at all. You want to press the subject, sometimes, but you really can't afford to annoy him, to make yourself even more of an irritation to him than you already are. You wouldn't survive a day out here, on your own. You wouldn't survive without Xiao.
Sphinx!Xiao, whose gifts have been getting more... modern, recently. Luxuries are still few and far between, but you have a small store of canned food, now, a couple fleece blankets that don't seem at least a decade old, bits of scrap metal and glass that must've caught Xiao's eye. You try not to pry, not to turn down anything he gives you, but his most recent gift - a half-crushed, silver wedding band with an odd, scarlet stain you can't seem to polish away - hasn't seen the light of day since he dropped it into your hand.
Sphinx!Xiao, who keeps his wings wrapped around you as you sob into his shoulder and beat your fists against his chest. You're not in the temple anymore, dilapidated and open, but his den - a hellish, lightless cave filled to bursting with golden jewelry and century-old artifacts and scraps of metal and clothing that couldn't have come from anything but human travelers, from dozens upon dozens of people who could've saved you if he hadn't gotten in the way.
Sphinx!Xiao, who hums and coos and purrs as he rubs circles into your back, as he promises that he's not going to hurt you, that he's not going to let anything hurt you ever again.
Sphinx!Xiao, who's always been a guardian, first and foremost. It's just that now, he's decided it's his responsibility to guard you.
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fangswbenefits · 7 months
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The Arrangement (1)
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Summary: You managed to convince Astarion not to go through with the rite of profane ascension. He remains a vampire spawn, and you now offer your blood from time to time to help with his sanguine hunger until a solution is found. Even though you had both decided to stay as friends back in Moonrise Towers, lines begin to blur once more as other cravings come to the surface… and things with Astarion are seldom uncomplicated.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Word count: 6k
Warnings: 18+. Endgame spoilers. Blood drinking. Mutual pining. Biting. S*xual tension. Mentions of past trauma.
Series masterlist . AO3
"He's upstairs."
You nodded curtly, but before you could turn in your heels and head to the wooden staircase, you felt a hand grip at your arm.
"He hasn't been paying his due," Bork, the Blushing Mermaid tavern's publican, said with a rise of his brows.
"Noble room again?"
"Yes."
As expected. Astarion would sooner be caught dead again than having to stay at a merchant or peasant room.
He adored all things lavish and that extended to his accommodations, naturally.
"I'll cover for it," you said, snatching your arm away. "How much?"
He bared his yellow teeth. "Thirty gold pieces."
You felt Shadowheart's burning gaze on you. She didn't approve of you cleaning after him. Especially since her protective instinct dragged her along with you every single time.
"Very well," you said through gritted teeth, rummaging through your pouch, and handing him the expected amount. 
"Good," the older man said with a twirl of his kitchen knife. "If your pale friend does it again, he's done for."
Threats like this would usually warrant you to bare your dagger or cast a less friendly spell, but you couldn't afford to cause a scene.
Not in front of so many onlookers. 
You felt Shadowheart briefly tense up by your side. "Do hurry up. I shall wait for you."
Nodding, you gave her an assuring nod before heading up the staircase. 
The first floor was reserved for the highest paying customers, and it was heavily decorated and with candles spreading along the narrow corridor.
You paced quickly along the wooden floor, already knowing where to find him.
Room 7.
At this point, you were already over common pleasantries, so you skipped knocking at the door and just barged inside.
You heard a sleepy groan from the crimson bed placed at the centre of the luxurious room.
Astarion wasn't alone.
He was laying on top of the silk sheets, flipping through a book, seemingly undisturbed by your sudden appearance. Curiously enough, he was fully clothed, wearing a frill shirt and his regular trousers. 
However, the woman next to him was very much fully naked, with only a blanket draping over her bare torso.
The sight made your stomach twist and turn.
"Hello, darling," he said casually as if you had just walked in on him picking flowers. 
She peeked over her shoulder with a horrified look spreading across her pleasant face.
Of course she was extremely attractive.
She let out a shriek. "Do you mind?"
"No," you said dryly.
She immediately rolled out of bed, shooting a murderous glance your way, while scrambling to collect her belongings from the carpeted floor.
The door snapped shut behind her, and you were already pacing toward his bedside table once you spotted his coinpurse.
"Happy, are you? You scared her off, poor thing," he shook his head, feigning disapproval.
"You owe me."
You reached out to grab the thick pouch, but caught sight of the glint of a blade and the cool touch of metal being pressed gently against the back of your hand. 
Typical.
"Ah-ah-ah..." he tutted with a click of his tongue. "Where are your manners?"
He seemed very serious all of a sudden, but you knew better. "I'll hex you."
"Faster than me piercing through your skin?" he asked, tapping the flat side of the blade playfully on your skin.
You really did consider hexing him for a split second just out of spite. "You overestimate your abilities."
"And you could have cursed me already, but are too lost in my dashing good looks."
Your jaw dropped in utter disbelief.
"That lovely mouth of yours could never compete with my agile fingers."
The insinuation wasn't even subtle, and it was enough to make your blood boil.
You scowled deeply at him, shoving his dagger out of the way. "Thirty gold pieces."
He slipped the blade under his pillow again with a devious grin.
"Bork was rather eager to have at you, so I just paid him. Maybe next time I won't intervene."
"And what would he do? Kill me again?"
Point taken.
A dangerous smile danced across his lips. "And here I thought you intended to start charging me for our arrangement."
You glared at him intensely, feeling momentarily outraged. "You're the one profiting off of it. Entirely."
"Hmm, debatable."
You narrowed your eyes. "If anything, you should be paying me, no?"
He snatched the coinpurse from your grasp, tugging it open before handing you a few gold pieces. 
"Here you go, darling. Sixty gold pieces," he said, voice dripping with amusement. "Buy yourself a new attire, while you're at it."
You glanced down the length of your body, arching a brow and straightening your shirt and trousers. "What's wrong with my clothes?"
Astarion scoffed. "I don't even know where to begin, but do not fret. You could be wearing nothing but a rotting sack of potatoes, and I would still not be deterred from your neck."
You pressed your lips tightly together, and glanced at the gold pieces in your hand. "Your sweet-talking skills have been slightly below par as of late."
He chuckled, crossing his hands behind his head and against the meticulously wooden-carved headboard. "Yet here you are."
Not that you had much of a choice, really.
Halving the sum of money he had given you, you shoved the rest in your pocket while placing the other half on the table.
"Keep it."
"Don't be ridiculous," you groaned.
"Working on your flattery, I see?"
He was enjoying this far too much, and the more you talked back, the more you instigated him to continue.
"Why don't you just pay him when he asks for it?"
"Oh, darling…"
Here we go…
He was casually checking his hands, putting on his condescending demeanour. "Patience is a virtue he clearly lacks. If I'm to live eternally, I might as well teach these commoners some manners."
"Or you just adore getting on people's nerves," you said with a sly smile.
He grinned so wide, you caught a glimpse of his razor-sharp fangs peeking through. "You know me too well."
You used to think so.
Now, you weren't so sure.
Clearing your throat, you looked around the dimly lit room until your eyes settled on the large majestic bed. "She was really pretty."
"You sound surprised."
"Not at all. She does fit your type."
He laughed dramatically, further grinding your nerves. "I have a type?"
You gave him a look.
"You mean outrageously beautiful and undeniably entertaining?" he asked innocently. "Like you?"
Your heart jolted.
His method of seduction was deemed nigh pristine, and a few weeks ago, you would have maybe fallen hard for this level of charm.
But not anymore.
Well, for the most part…
"She was not outrageously beautiful."
He placed on hand at his chest, feigning hurt. "First you rob me, and now you question my taste in beauty. I'm not entirely sure my dead heart can take much more of this."
You huffed, crossing your arms before glancing out the window. The full moon lit up the street below, as the night began to draw out those who preferred to keep to the shadows.
And those who had no choice but to do so.
Like Astarion.
"I didn't do it."
His voice startled you and you stared at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"
He paused briefly. "I didn't do anything with her, if that's what you're thinking. There is an odd comfort in being surrounded by beauty, even if only to glare at, and nothing else."
Your heart clenched at how vulnerable he sounded all of a sudden. His pleasing face held an expression that you'd seen many times before…
Guilt.
The ripple effects of centuries of torture and abuse still slipped through the cracks of his usual pompous demeanour.
"Your personal matters are your own, Astarion. No need to justify yourself."
He stared at you in silence for a moment, and the urge to reach out to embrace him nearly took over.
Until his features began to twist into a light frown. "Don't look at me like that. I can't stand it."
"Like what?"
"That look. Pity. Spare me," he groaned with a roll of his eyes.
You weren't surprised in the slightest that he went into his defensive mode so rapidly.
He would fluctuate so often around you these days, that it gave you whiplash. Some days, he would let his guard down and allow you in, while others were plagued with him having a brick wall up around him if you happened to breathe in the wrong direction.
You had learned how to navigate through his tough exterior when the two of you traveled together, and as he opened more and more to you.
It all culminated when you offered your help against Cazador, and having him make the decision not to go through with the ritual that would doom so many souls – including his own — in the process.
He had thanked you for saving him from himself.
But nowadays, talking to him was like walking on eggshells while simultaneously dancing around his weathervane mood.
It was as if your relationship had somewhat soured over the past few weeks, and all the remnants of a solid friendship were now beginning to crack.
"You know, you don't have to be here," you said softly, trying to disperse the tension. "You are more than welcome to stay with us."
Astarion snickered darkly. "And having to endure that dullard? Please. I'd rather stake myself, darling."
You rolled your eyes and heaved a sigh at the targeted provocation.
"Gale is not a dullard. He is quite inter-"
But he began to part his mouth into a forced yawn. "Boring already! See, this is what happens when you choose to surround yourself with such unstimulating company – it spreads, and you used to be so much fun," he finished with a dramatic pout.
Your heart skipped a beat, and you sent him a death glare. "He's not the only one there."
There was a hint of amusement gleaming in his eyes. "Oh, yes! How could I forget Shadowheart and her magnificent ability to bore me." He swung his feet off the bed, standing gracefully. "Or perhaps you mean Lae'zel? She's clearly in debt to whichever god bestows a sense of humour."
An added layer of defense: sarcasm.
No one wielded it quite like Astarion, which also proved to be a major inconvenience when trying to win an argument. 
I'm also there, you wanted to say, but chose to remain silent.
Deep down, you detested how you still longed for his company. Even after so many weeks had gone by. Even when he seemed so averse to it outside of this… arrangement.
Your relationship had been reduced to nothing more than a transaction.
Once again.
Your blood for his hunger to be quenched even if only momentarily.
"Or are you referring to yourself?" he mused, pacing towards you while adjusting his shirt.
It was extremely infuriating that he could see through you so easily.
"Let's get this over with, then," you said, words stinging in your throat.
He offered a faint smile, as he came to stand before you. "I must say, our weekly encounters are nothing short of exciting," he brought his fingers to your jaw, tilting your head gently as his eyes roamed across your neck. "And I am positively famished."
You felt a gentle tug at the collar or your shirt, and glanced down to see him undoing the buttons with just one hand. 
All those years of honing his dexterity were bound to come in handy at the most convenient of times,  and Astarion would never shy away from displaying his expertise.
Your senses were suddenly hit with the faint scent of bergamot, rosemary, and aged brandy.
His scent.
The same that once brought you comfort through the toughest of times.
But now…
"Which side will it be this time?"
You swallowed hard, shuddering. "You decide."
He caressed your neck tenderly, tipping your head to the opposite side, half-hooded eyes roaming across your exposed skin.
"Ever so generous."
You huffed in annoyance. "Astarion."
He didn't need to be warned twice, and you soon felt his soft lips brush across your skin, as he searched for your steady pulse. The contact made you jolt slightly and he took your hands in his, placing them at his waist.
"Hold on, darling," he whispered, as his breath fanned your flushed skin, before darting out his agile tongue and enclosing his lips around the selected area.
You had let him feed on you many times before, but the flutter was ever present. It wasn't out of fear or concern that he might take it too far. He never did. But the knowledge that you were, once again, involved in something so intimate truly gnawed at your nerves.
As soon as you felt the initial sting, you balled your fists, gripping the fabric of his shirt tight, as you hissed in pain. 
He held your jaw in between his fingers whilst his other hand was firmly pressed to the back of your head, making sure you were anchored in place.
Astarion moaned first – a muffled and deep sound that reverberated across his lips with each mouthful of blood he downed.
Your eyes dropped close all of a sudden and he  pressed his body against yours, acting purely on the instinct driven by his bloodlust. 
And just like all those times before, you began to feel it.
With each passing second, the all too familiar and ever-growing pressure in your lower abdomen became harder and harder to ignore.
He had once revealed how your blood worked like an aphrodisiac whenever he drank from you; how he couldn't keep his body from reacting to it, and, ultimately, to you. After all, you had been the first thinking creature he had ever fed on. 
As such, you had grown accustomed to his erection being pressed firmly against you – a constant reminder of how easy it was for him to make you yearn for more.
Whatever pain you had left from the initial bite, had morphed into a very subtle wave of pleasure that spread from between your legs.
You cursed inwardly, tugging harder at his shirt.
You didn't wish for your body to be so… primal. 
Even with blood being drained from you, and the act itself being considered so profane, it was still a much welcome moment of intimacy that you had come to embrace. 
A soft roll of his hips lulled you into him like a moth to a flame. Your body struggled with fading from the blood loss as well with the increasing throb between your thighs.
At this point, you couldn't help but moan softly as he eased his grip on you until he had fully withdrawn his teeth from you. 
Your eyes fluttered open and you had to blink twice to disperse the haziness blurring your vision.
Crimson red tainted his lips, and droplets of the warm liquid threatened to spill over. The sight of him revelling in your blood used to make your stomach turn, but now it had morphed into a habit.
But what truly caught your attention was how he looked faintly… displeased?
He lowered his head, crimson eyes locking in with yours. 
"That was quick," you whispered, struggling to ease your throbbing clit, as his erection was still very much pressed against you.
But now he was frowning. 
Suddenly, you felt experienced fingertips trailed across your lower abdomen, casually teasing the hem of your waistband.
You sucked in a breath, chills sprawling all over your body, as he began to trace down your thigh, just where your dagger was resting.
"What are you–"
He pressed a long finger to his blood-stained lips and you swallowed, his eyes darkening. "We have company."
Before you could process his words, you felt your dagger being yanked swiftly from its sheath. With a languid shift of his feet, you watched as he threw the sharp blade across the room.
Just as it cut through the air, the large wooden door began to swing open and Shadowheart came into view.
The dagger landed dangerously close to her head, the tip carving into the wood and wobbling faintly.
She frowned slightly. "You missed."
He darted out his tongue to collect droplets of blood. "Did I?"
She looked positively unimpressed by such a display of skill, even one that could have easily maimed her.
But he had deliberately missed.
Of course he had.
You caught a glimpse of Astarion's reddened ears – the ultimate proof that he had recently fed, and one that, somehow, sent a shiver down your spine.
The bloodless effect was also beginning to take a hold of your body, as dizziness spread more and more.
Snapping out of your transfixed gaze, you hurriedly brought the handkerchief in your pocket to apply some pressure to your bleeding wound.
"Stealth was never your forte, darling," Astarion mused, visibly annoyed. "You're about as subtle as a pack of gnolls."
A teasing smile parted her lips. "You have such a way with words."
He grinned deviously. "It's called being eloquent, dear Shadowheart. Not that you'd know anything about that."
"I was taught to converse with others without constantly resorting to sarcasm," she mused, hurling your dagger back at him. "Not that you'd know anything about that."
As expected, he caught it in between his fingers with little to no effort, twirling it easily with the expertise that only centuries of practice could provide.
He clicked his tongue. "No wonder you're so tedious. But… eavesdropping? My, my… how unbecoming of you, darling."
A flash of surprise crossed her face. "I - I was doing no such thing! I merely decided to make sure everything was all right." Her face softened as she turned to you, her usual caring nature surfacing. "Do you need any healing?"
You smiled warmly at her, patting the pouch at your hip. "No need, thank you. Brought the scroll of Lesser Restoration you gave me."
Astarion scoffed.
Shadowheart ignored him. "I ought to go. Gale needs my assistance with some letters he's received from Waterdeep," she said, straightening up to her default stoic pose. "I trust you're quite done here."
You nodded, clearing your throat.
"What, you're not joining us for a nibble?" Astarion pouted dramatically.
"Over my dead body."
He looked as amused as ever. "That can certainly  be arranged. Though I prefer fresh blood… right from the source."
Her features hardened once more and you decided to intervene. "Will you stop it? You're like a cat with its claws out."
Astarion snapped his head at you. "Excuse me? Claws?"
"Would it kill you - well, again - not to be so damn abrasive all the time?" 
He groaned sheepishly. "She interrupted my feeding. It can be quite hard to resist the urge to behead her."
Shadowheart's gaze dropped to his lower half with the slightest uptick of one corner of her mouth. "By the looks of it, Astarion, you have other hardships to concern yourself with."
A rush of heat spread across your face as you followed her line of sight and were met by the very prominent outline of his erection strained against his trousers.
He turned around, mumbling curses under his breath to adjust himself, and Shadowheart looked at you with a triumphant smile.
It wasn't an easy feat to silence Astarion, yet she had achieved it so gracefully.
"I'll see you later, I suppose," she mused and you nodded. "It was rather entertaining seeing you again, Astarion."
He threw her an infuriating glance over his shoulder.
By the time she had closed the door behind her, you were already taking the scroll into your hands and whispering the incantation, as the paper scroll began to disintegrate itself.
A wave of warmth spread through your hands, before engulfing your body in it. Strength and heightened senses gradually returned to you as the lasting effects of him feeding on you dispersed. 
From the corner of your eye, you spotted him glaring at you with a visible sulk. 
"I'll come back next week."
"Leaving already?" He asked, fake heartbreak twisting his features and voice. "Was wondering if you could, perhaps, give me a hand."
He handed you your dagger, which you promptly slid back inside its sheath.
Your eyes then widened at his not so subtle suggestion.
Uncertainty boiled deep within you, and you had to muster your will to keep yourself from immediately leaving.
Astarion's healing path had been one he had decided to tread alone. The relationship he had with sex had been the reason you two had decided to be as friends and nothing more. You had fallen hard for him – or his deceit – but you figured what he truly needed was a friend and not a lover.
And so you left your infatuation for him behind.
It was better off this way.
But now… watching him fall back to his usual charming advances made you somewhat wary. Was he back to forcing himself to seek intimacy with his body, because he still couldn't do it effectively in any other way? Was he simply feeling more at ease?
You met his sultry gaze and cleared your throat. "Well, I'm sure you can ask that outrageously beautiful woman to help you out, if that is what you truly seek."
That seemed to have caught him by surprise, and he cocked his head. "What?"
"She seemed positively distraught for having to leave your company so early," you said, dragging the handkerchief down your neck to wipe off the trail of blood.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Do I detect a hint of jealousy, darling?"
"Delusion does not suit you, darling."
He took a few steps towards you until you could see the crimson of his eyes flicker as they studied your face.
Your stomach turned.
The proximity made you feel vulnerable and you immediately felt naked under his burning gaze. 
Astarion had over two centuries of practice when it came to reading others. It wasn't an easy feat to deceive him, and you were no exception.
"We traveled together for so long and I can safely say I never took you for a liar – perhaps too soft-hearted for my liking, but not a liar."
"I did not lie," you shot back, lifting your chin in defiance. "I can offer you my friendship and even my blood, but I'm not so sure about anything else."
He heaved a deep sigh.
"I just fed on you and the bloodlust can be quite… overwhelming," he confessed. "I usually take care of it myself, but you did taste absolutely exquisite tonight, what can I say?"
That caught you off guard.
"What do you mean? Take care of…" your voice trailed off as realization hit you.
Oh.
Oh.
Astarion clicked his tongue. "Don't act so surprised. You can feel it whenever I'm feeding, can't you?" He took another step back and only came to a halt once your back was pressed against the carved-wood wall. "There is only so much I can withstand with your delicious blood coursing through my body, darling."
You swallowed hard. 
He was being particularly firm on his advances tonight. You were used to his occasional flirtatious remarks whenever he fed on you ever since the arrangement took place. However, this was bringing things to a whole new level.
One that you hadn't expected you'd reach ever again with him.
Somehow, you managed to find your voice. "Maybe you should stop feeding on me, then?"
A weightless taunt, obviously.
Crimson eyes darted all over your face as if studying you. He remained silent for what seemed like an eternity, before the corner of his mouth curled into an intriguing smile.
He had seen immediately right through it.
"If that is what you wish, then so be it," he said in a rather dismissive tone, but still towering over you.
You arched a brow. "That's it?"
"Darling, as immortal as I am, I do not beg," he continued, now tracing around the fresh bite marks on your skin with uncharacteristic tenderness. "I will surely find other exquisite necks to sink my teeth into."
His words carried a hint of a threat, which unsettled you. 
"That was not the arrangement, Astarion," you said with a scowl. "It's either wild animals or my blood."
His fingertips paused at your pulse point, and you were certain he could feel the throbbing increasing rapidly. "How possessive of you, my dear," he mused playfully. "Although, I am quite sure you are aware that many do carry fantasies with vampires."
You pressed your lips together in a silent reply.
A man as attractive as Astarion was bound to allure all sorts of attention. When passing through Moonrise Towers, the drow Araj had tried to have him bite her in exchange for a rather powerful potion, but you had assured him that you did not demand anything against his will.
The memory still left a sour taste in your mouth.
But he did have a point.
Vampires could be regarded as a taste of the forbidden, and he could certainly deliver it.
"That was not the arrangement," you repeated through gritted teeth, deciding to ignore his previous remark.
His eyes narrowed dangerously in an instant.
"'The arrangement'," he mocked, inching near and pinning you frozen against the wall with the weight of his burning stare. "Does dear Wyll know that I haven't been exclusively feeding on wild animals? Because that was the arrangement, darling," his face drew closer and his cool breath fanned your skin.
Upon becoming Duke of Baldur's Gate, Wyll had agreed to allow Astarion to reside within its walls, but not without assuring he posed no danger to others.
But then you decided to volunteer in aiding him until a solution to his vampiric condition could be found. Hopefully, it wouldn't take too long to find something useful. 
Your research had led to a couple of enchanted items, but those were rare to come by. A wish spell seemed to be the easiest way, but even as a sorcerer and with Gale's help, it would be extremely challenging.
You swallowed the lump in your throat. "He does. He knows blood from thinking creatures sates you more effectively, so he allows it for the time being."
He scoffed, dropping his hand from your neck. "How very thoughtful of him, indeed."
"This is what friends do."
He sneered at you. "Friends do not hand out ultimatums. Care to revive my memory?" His lips almost brushed against yours and you didn't dare take a breath. "I am to wag my tail like an obedient pup as I wait for a solution to this minor inconvenience, all the while enclosed in a golden cage."
Impatience gripped your nerves ferociously. "These things take time, Astarion."
"Oh, my darling… I have all the time in the world, but you only have a limited supply of blood," he whispered softly and you could almost taste his taunting words.
He drew back slightly, his glare so intense you felt yours waver and drop, catching a glimpse of his sharp canines. "We are actively looking for a solution. Gale is also making some progress-"
He pressed a finger to your lips, effectively silencing you.
"Do not make the mistake of thinking I am faulting you," he said, his face suddenly softening, as he caressed your lower lip. "If anything, you are the only reason I was ever able to kill Cazador."
He was being sincere, and that was what made your heart drop to your stomach. 
"You have my eternal gratitude."
You shuddered under his touch, feeling your breath quicke, as his other hand trailed down your neck until it was resting just above your left breasts and beating heart.
He was too good at this…
Unfairly so.
"Wyll ought to allocate more of his resources into aiding me, don't you think? After all, you are the one at risk here," he continued. "I know he cares not for me, but I could have ascended and bent Baldur's Gate to my will… if not for your intervention."
"I'm not at risk," you said with a roll of your eyes. "And if you drink more than what you need, then you know the consequences."
His eyes dropped to your cleavage as he began to caress the flushed skin. With each deep breath you took, you pushed more of your breasts into him, further igniting the heat between your legs.
"Promises, promises… unfortunately for you, darling, your words don't match your body."
Fuck you. "You're impossible."
He slowly dipped his head until his lips grazed yours. "You would stake me?"
Never. 
"I would."
He chuckled. "You would stake me as I sink my teeth into your darling neck and feast on your divine blood?" 
No. "Yes."
But his smile only widened as amusement settled on his face. "I can't think of a better way to part this world for good."
Your mouth parted slightly in surprise, and he rolled his hips into you, earning a soft gasp.
You half-expected him to finally take your lips, but he tilted his head instead to press a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. 
And your body nearly imploded as old sensations resurfaced.
Fuck.
"You're so sweet…" he whispered with a sigh, as he began to graze along your jaw, taking your hands in his and planting them on his waist. "So warm… the gods above could never do you justice." He continued in between light kisses with his hips matching the pace.
As your eyes fluttered shut, you lost track of how eagerly your hands tugged at the hem of his shirt, fingers brushing impatiently against the waistband of his trousers.
Astarion groaned softly, helping you with the inconvenient lacing at the front. "And here I thought I was the starving one."
He always talked way too much and had a natural talent for doing so at the least opportune time. 
"Can you shut up for once?"
"Gladly," he said as he quickly took your lips in his, muffling your groan of protest.
Reason told you to halt everything once. That you were taking things too fast, and that there was no need to indulge in such depravities.
But you had missed this.
You missed having him so close that he completely overtook your senses. 
The kiss turned rougher and his tongue soon found yours. Instinct guided you as you succumbed to the vicious grip of desire, and you pressed yourself further into him.
It was almost embarrassing how wet you already were and how intensely your swollen clit was pulsing. Your body was already readying itself for him to be buried inside you, and you shuddered at the prospect of it.
Your tongue darted into his mouth and your eagerness had it glide across one of his sharp fangs, and you felt a sting of pain as you accidentally drew blood.
"Fuck," you grumbled, breaking the kiss at once.
The familiar taste of metal began to pool in your mouth, and you felt gentle fingers grip your jaw tight, as he titled your head back.
"I would apologise, but it was your own doing," he said with a smile, hunger in his eyes. "So let's not allow it to go to waste, hm?"
And then he pressed his lips against yours, immediately parting them with his experienced tongue, in search of the warm liquid he so badly craved.
The cut wasn't deep or wide enough to cause much to spill, but it was certainly enough for him to let out a beautiful moan of delight, as he lapped at your blood.
Your hands gripped the front of his trousers, the lacing now undone and offering you the opportunity to feel him, and he was kissing you so ardently, that your mind was completely clouded by all of him.
Testing the waters, you caressed his cock through the fabric.
He immediately parted from you to let out a delicious hiss, as he rolled his hips into the palm of your hand.
Astarion was incredibly hard, but just as you were about to slide it inside to grip him, he caught your wrist and held it firmly in place.
And everything halted all at once.
Your eyes found his, and he seemed… distant.
Concern washed over you. "Astarion?"
He was frozen, eyes fixed on the floor.
As he eased his grip on you, it became apparent that he wasn't listening to you.
Fuck.
You brought one hand to grip his shoulder. "Astarion…"
He shook his head lightly. "Give me a moment, darling."
The way the last word drawled out of his lips, made your heart clench violently. It was so instinctive for him, that you doubted he even realised he had uttered it.
You stood still, unsure of what to do to help.
The two of you remained silent for a few moments. You kept your hold on his shoulder, gently caressing it in an attempt to bring him some comfort.
Then you felt rage swirl in you.
Cazador had warped him in such a way and for so long, that the ramifications of his abuse on Astarion seeped so deep and gripped him so tight, causing you to feel nothing but anger.
You took a deep breath, and carefully placed your hands on either side of his face, slowly guiding him to meet your eyes.
He looked broken.
"I apologise."
You caressed his cool skin with your thumbs, shaking your head. "There is nothing to apologise for. Ever. Do you hear me?"
He tilted his head until his forehead touched yours. "I really wanted this."
Even though the two of you had grown apart over the past few weeks as he had distanced himself, you couldn't think of anyone else who had such a hold on you.
With one hand drifting along his soft curls, you pulled him further into a hug, which he promptly embraced, lacing his hands behind your back.
This was your Astarion.
The one who made it so easy to love and care for him.
"Sometimes what we want is not what we need."
His cheek was pressed to the side of your head and you heard a faint chuckle. "So poetic. I reckon Volo has competition."
"Your mind goes to Volo when holding me? Is there something you wish to tell me, Astarion?" you teased lightly.
He patted your back twice before letting go.
"Guilty as charged," he mused, slipping back into his usual antics.
He crossed the room, tying the laces of his trousers before plopping himself on the bed with a stretch of his arms.
"I'm sure you're exhausted. Maybe you should go back to that dullard friend of yours," he said with a sly grin.
His words hit you hard and your face dropped. "I can stay a little longer…"
He picked up the book next to him, examining the cover. "Whatever for? I'm perfectly fine, darling."
Now, this was not your Astarion.
Cold. Distant. Impenetrable.
The one who pushed you away whenever you attempted to bridge the gap that had come in between you two. 
He focused his attention on the book in his hands and you swallowed the lump in your throat.
"Very well."
You composed yourself, and headed to the door, not even bothering to exchange another look.
"Thank you for the meal, and for… well, you know."
You nodded, feeling the overwhelming urge to just leave. "See you next week, then."
He didn't reply.
You rushed out of the room, feeling the familiar prickle of tears in your eyes, and you tried to convince yourself it was better off this way.
That he needed time and space.
That he didn't need you.
By the time you crossed the crowded lounge of the tavern, you crossed paths with that woman again.
She locked eyes with you, a faint smile curving her lips, as she rose to her feet from her chair, probably heading back to him.
She truly was a sight to behold, no doubt.
But what tore your heart was realising that, even after everything you'd been through with Astarion, he still favoured her company over yours. 
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Masterlist . Series masterlist. AO3
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aphroditesmoon · 4 months
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Hiiii! Love your clarisse oneshots ^^. Could you possibly do one where Fem!reader is the daughter of Hades and has a hellhound as a pet that absolutely adores clarisse? Reader also has a similar personality to clarisse, loves to fight and has a big pride but only lets her guard down around Clarisse.(also possibly has her own electric weapon of your choice)Thank you!!
creatures of the night
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clarisse la rue x fem!hades'cabin!reader
warnings: none
a/n: sorry this is so short, hope u like it<3
wc; 1.1k
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You would never consider your relationship with your father as better than anyone else's relationship with their own parent in camp.
But when you had been claimed by Hades as well as being gifted a long black javelin with gold wrapped around the sharp edge on the same night you arrived at camp Half Blood, it seemed well established to everyone else and including yourself, that your father acknowledges your existence proudly.
Being one of the people in the small list of forbidden children, had created a fearsome reputation around your presence, and honestly speaking, you enjoy the privileges that come with it.
Although it was hard making friends considering your less friendly personality, some campers stuck by your side anyways. Those who bore you enormous respects and had been intrigued by your mysterious air instead of intimidated.
One of them being the infamous child of Ares, Clarisse La Rue.
Beautiful, strong and hot headed, Clarisse La Rue.
The two of you are often compared as the two sides of the same coin. Your personalities differ from eachother in many ways, but when it came to your goals and aims, you both are usually on the same team.
It's safe to say that you are less hostile than Clarisse. You prefer to keep to yourself whilst she prefered to assert dominance onto the other campers. And yet you are the more feared than her.
Clarisse is commonly brutal and unrelenting, but you usually saved up the worst of your tricks for when necessity calls for it. For now, intimidation worked well enough.
What's funny enough, is how Clarisse herself had a certain trepidation when she first befriended you. She learned soon that you were just another demigod girl just like she was, glory aside.
One of the instances where she felt that she had truly seen you as you are, all the facade dropped down, was when you first introduced her to your hound, Cerberus.
Your father had gifted him to you for your 15th birthday. It was one of yoir proudest moments in life. Demigods are almost never cared for that much by their parents, and so to have your coming of age be recognised by your father was a huge thing.
"Is that not the same name as Hades' own three headed hound?" She asked, staring at it for afar from the corner of your bed.
"I know, that's why I named him that." You explained to her as you're sat criss-crossed on the floor, scratching the beasts' chin.
Cerberus, once he deemed Clarisse as not a threat, rolled down on the ground on his stomach.
"Look at him, such a good boy." You were distracted by your new pet all day, ignoring your poor girlfriend who had come over to your cabin to spend time with you. "He's almost as tall as you." Clarisse spoke sarcastically, picking you on your height.
"That's not a fair observation. Most things are almost as tall as me." You responded, still not looking up.
"Are you just gonna keep standing there staring at me?" You asked her finally, realising just how weird the distance between you two were.
Clarisse was hesitant, frowning at your pet like he was some sort of threat. "I...think I'm good here." She muttered loud enough for your ears. "Oh, come on."
Clarisse shook her head as you complained about her irrationality. "Look at him, he's friendly." And he was, Cerberus had warmed up to you quickly and have not shown a single tendency for violence against your girlfriend.
"Come and say hello to him, Clarisse." You called out to her again.
You hear her sigh from the other side of the room. After a few more minutes pass, her footsteps grow louder as she moves nearer to you.
Clarisse squats down to meet Cerberus and flinched as he lifts his head up to sniff her. You reached for her hand, trying to get him to smell it. She pulls her hand back at first, but after a few more pulls, Clarisse relents and lets the hound give her knuckles a lick. "That tickles." She mumbled under her breath.
"He likes you, see." She gives a resigned look, like she's just going along with what you're saying. "No, I'm serious, look at how nice he's acting." You nudged your head towards Cerberus' head, encouraging her to give him a pet
Clarisse braves herself to give him a few strokes on his ears and found that he particularly likes that notion. "I guess he's not that bad." She admitted at last, pulling out a smile from you. "I told you."
"So what is he then? Some sort of guard dog?" She inquires. The gods would gift their children with tools that can be used, never something useless, like a domesticated pet. And from the looks of it, Cerberus is definitely not meant to be a some cute little friend.
"I don't know." You answered honestly.
"It's not like my dad does a lot of talking to me, but he gave me something from the underworld, something that's set as a reminder of him and his place above. I'd like to view it as some sort of stepping stone. Like I'm one step closer to him because of Cerberus."
It's not surprising that your end goal is to follow on your father's footsteps, no one really knows what the real secret to make their godly parent to care about them is.
It is often assumed that glory was the key, and yet, the best fighters in camp a
re usually the ones who resent their parents the most. You often prayed and hoped that you wouldn't ever have to cross that threshold.
"I'm sure he sees it that way too." Clarisse offered kindly. She knew all too well how much it meant to be noticed by their absent fathers, even if so slightly.
She slso knew deep down that even if your father refused to notice the lengths you would be willing to go for him, she did. And she would break the world in two for you if your father wouldn't. And you would do the same for her.
Clarisse leans her back against the lower frame of the bed, a small smile on her face as she watches you scratch the hound's chin whilst kissing the spot in between his eyes.
It is truly rare to catch sight of either daughters of Ares or Hades' being as gentle and playful as this, and Clarisse is grateful that these kind of intimacies are reserved for small private moments.
That same night, as she sleeps with her arms around your waist, Cerberus laying down by the foot of the bed, Clarisse realises that she would do anything for the bond between the two of you to prevail.
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saraswritingtipps · 1 year
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Sparking Chemistry Between Characters
Subtle Gazes and lingering touches:
The eyes are the windows to the soul, and they can convey volumes of unspoken emotions. Describe those stolen glances, the lingering eye contact, and the way their gazes seem to connect on a deeper level. In addition, small touches like a brush of hands or an accidental bump can create electric moments that hint at an underlying romantic attraction. For example:
"Her heart fluttered as she caught him stealing glances, his eyes softly tracing the curves of her smile. With every accidental touch, their hands lingered, sending a current of warmth through their veins."
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Meaningful Conversations and Shared Secrets:
Deep conversations and intimate confessions can be powerful tools for hinting at romantic feelings. When characters open up to one another, revealing their vulnerabilities and dreams, a bond begins to form. These moments create a sense of emotional intimacy that can lay the groundwork for a blossoming romance. Consider this example:
"Underneath the twinkling stars, they shared secrets that they had never uttered to anyone else. As he listened to her dreams, he realized that he wanted to be a part of them, and a warm smile played on his lips."
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Playful Teasing and Banter:
Ah, the age-old art of witty banter! This lighthearted exchange of playful jabs and teasing remarks can build tension and create a magnetic pull between characters. It allows them to establish a unique connection filled with laughter and friendly competition. Here's an example:
"Their banter was a delightful dance of sharp wit and quick comebacks. Every retort was like a playful spark that kept the fire between them burning bright, a dance they couldn't resist joining every chance they got."
/////////
Unspoken Jealousy and Protective Gestures:
Jealousy can be a potent emotion to hint at unexpressed romantic feelings. When one character starts to feel protective or slightly possessive, it suggests a deeper connection brewing beneath the surface. Show how they react to potential rivals or display signs of concern for each other's well-being. Check out this snippet:
"Her heart skipped a beat as she noticed the subtle tightening of his jawline when he saw her laughing with someone else. His fingers tapped nervously, silently craving her attention, and he couldn't help but step closer, ready to ward off any potential threats."
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linkemon · 2 months
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Confession headcanons
Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you're interested.
Other headcanons from this series can be found here.
Part 1 | Part 3 of the confession headcanons.
This part contains: Sebek Zigvolt, Leona Kingscholar and Azul Ashengrotto.
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Sebek Zigvolt
• Sebek would experience shock after shock before he even confessed his feelings. The first clash with reality would be the realization that he loves someone. What is it about you being on his mind all the time? That he would like to protect you from all the troubles surrounding you? That he feels boundless pride when you praise him for the smallest things? He can't sleep at night and gets up to do extra sets of push-ups to calm down. It would get to the point where he would get frustrated and ask Lilia for advice. Is this the ideal person to turn to in this situation? In his opinion for sure...
• How much fun Vanrouge would have at his expense! His, not so little anymore Sebek, experiences his first love affair. In addition, with a human being. What a chuckle of fate. Apparently, his student had learned something in life. Lilia would give Sebek some advice, not all of which would be entirely accurate. Well, he won't make everything easy for him! And it's funny to watch him hand you a rare Briar Valley frog and hope it wins your heart. It's a pity the knight didn't tell you that to get this frog he had to kill several magical creatures during the holidays, you would probably look at it differently...
• Sebek would have a hard time accepting the fact that he fell in love with a human. Of course, his opinion changed gradually as he got to know you, but realizing that he had done exactly what he sometimes criticized his mother for would be like a bucket of cold water. He even tried to find arguments against it but every time he saw your face in front of his eyes, he decided that he couldn't do it.
• He definitely ran for Malleus' "blessing" once he was sure he wanted to be with you. Of course, he solemnly promised that it would not interfere with his duties. The prince didn't mind. He was happy that he would have the opportunity to see his friend more often.
• Briar Valley still has some slightly old-fashioned traditions. Although Sebek is aware that couples date and break up, he is intentionally trying to marry you in the distant future, from the very beginning.
• His confession consisted of an oath. After all, he is a knight in flesh and blood. With a bouquet of wildflowers, he knelt down and announced that he was going to defend, protect and love you until his last breath. If you let him, he will try to be worthy of you, the lady of his heart. He came up with this idea while reading chivalric romances so the ride back to your dormitory on a white horse is basically a complete must-have...
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Leona Kingscholar
• Leona would never be the first to admit the feeling growing in his heart. He has more important things on his mind than love. For example, a nap! And the fact that he ordered you to stay and sleep with him under threat was a completely different story.
• You decided to take matters into your own hands, because what is it supposed to be? You act like you're in a relationship. Your friends keep asking if you're a couple and you never know what to say, because they won't ask Kingscholar out of fear and it always falls on you. Grim sincerely hopes you are together. In his eyes, a rich prince means an endless supply of tuna. Even if he calls him a furball every chance he gets.
• One day, in a botanical garden, surrounded by beautiful flowers, you asked this one important question. Who wouldn't love me? That's what the sarcastic Leona said in response to your confession. Immediately afterwards, he squinted his eyes and happily went back to his fake nap.
• Outraged that he didn't even take you seriously, you tried to get up but failed. He hugged you tightly and pulled you to his chest. Only when you were so close to him did you realize how fast his heart was beating. You didn't know if all beasts were like that but the ghost of a smile on his lips confirmed your belief that they probably weren't. You didn't say anything for a moment, just listening to the fast rhythm. Just as you were about to say something, he opened his eyes and told you that you two could go out if you cared so much. Then he turned to his other side, saying that herbivores probably had nothing better to think about.
• Only on the verge of your sleep, wrapped in warmth, amid the scent of sweet flowers, did you hear a quiet voice in your ear "I love you", spoken in a deep and confident voice.
• You didn't want him to feel unpunished for such treatment, so for the next week you made it your goal to tell everyone you could that you were in a relationship. At first you thought it wouldn't bother him much, but when others started repeating it, he felt embarrassed, which he didn't hesitate to tell you when he really had had enough. At first it seemed to you that he wouldn't be much moved, but when others started repeating it, he felt embarrassed, which he didn't hesitate to tell you when he really had enough.
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Azul Ashengrotto
• There is no way he would try to confess his love before he has tried every means available to him to see if you feel the same way. The idea of revealing himself to someone to such an extent terribly terrifies him. It doesn't matter that you saw him at his lowest point during the overblot, it doesn't change anything about it.
• He wouldn't send the twins to do anything related to this "project" as he called it in his head. He doesn't even talk about it because he knows they would be making fun of him for weeks to come, especially Floyd. The truth is that Jade realized it incredibly quickly, but he's waiting for the right opportunity to take advantage of it...
• Azul would have dozens of plans for every eventuality and somehow everything would still fall apart. The first and most important rule he adopted was to stay away from Mostro Lounge. He took you to his home sea under the pretext of sightseeing. If something went wrong, no one from the academy would see it and he would have time to collect himself. At this first point his perfect plan ended.
• First, something broke in your transportation to the museum he wanted to take you to. Then it turned out that the crab serving you didn't want to let you in, mumbling something about being late. Without losing his nerve, Azul proposed his plan B, which was a restaurant. Of course, previously checked by him. But what good is it, since the owner broke the tentacle and closed it that same morning, leaving only a note on the door that she was very sorry. On top of it all, his favorite alley in the underwater park was destroyed by a herd of wild seahorses. That sealed his defeat. He meant well but it didn't work out. Tired, he lowered his hat and rubbed his glasses, pretending that he had not spilled a tear of ink at all.
• You had to come to his aid because you couldn't watch him struggle with his thoughts. You placed a kiss on his cheek, telling him that you had fun because you spent a lot of time with him and that you were happy because he rarely gave up work for someone. This gave him confidence and with a sigh, he led you to a place he wasn't particularly fond of but one he knew would be quiet and peaceful. It was on one of the coral terraces that he hid in from kids who tormented him when he was little. When he confessed his feelings to you and you replied that you reciprocated them, he felt that at least now he would have happy memories of this place.
• Azul doesn't need to know that Jade exposed him some time ago and he sold you the information that his boss reciprocated your feelings for quite a favour...
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wonysugar · 4 months
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doing what’s right | huh yunjin
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synopsis : you were always on top of your shit, and yunjin hated your fucking guts for it.
pairing : yunjin x fem!reader
genre : bully trope?? smut
tags : major hate sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism. yunjin’s a bitch, reader’s a goody two shoes and a virgin, jealousy, classroom, public sex kinda? teacherxstudent roleplay, is this considered tag teaming?? degrading names, stripping, slapping (like once but still), fingering, slight boob play, chaewon mention kinda? it’s hinted, dumbification lowkey? that funky stuff~~
!! warnings : dubcon turned consensual, threats of blackmail, degradation, humiliation, bullying, harassment, yknow… that stuff so don’t read if any of this makes you uncomfy please !!
word count : 3.2k
a/n : angsty yunjin coming out soon dw.. i just loved y’all too much to release unwarranted ass angst without some sort of apology beforehand😭enjoy! been wanting to write more dark stuff since you guys really liked minjeong? so YAYY!! also this is like so not proofread if you see any mistakes please ignore as i am so tiredgkefmm
also also obviously NEVER DO THIS TO ANYONE EVER THIS IS TRULY HORRENDOUS :(( and ofc if it’s being done to you CALL THE POLICE DO SMTHH THIS IS ACTUALLY HORRIBLEE?? this is purely fiction and for entertainment purposes and does not reflect my thoughts!!
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“hey y/n, since you like studying so damn much, how about you do my assignments for me?” her friends giggled, enjoying the show, “how’s that sound, hm? i’m sure you’d enjoy it.”
you continued to write into your notebook, tending to your work as you ignored the unfunny comments that the group of annoying girls sent towards you, the most distracting one of them all being thrown was huh yunjin’s. you just kept trying to focus on the math equation in front of you as you heard their loud giggles and mumbles behind you.
it was confusing. she’d seem really nice if you didn’t know her, since she rarely was ever mean to other students. plus, she looked really friendly and put together, it was almost welcoming; her ginger hair always styled perfectly, her full face of gorgeous makeup that she somehow managed to put on everyday, the nice outfits she’d pull with such a basic uniform. no really, who knew you could do so much with just a blazer and a skirt? she looked and acted so kind towards everyone.
except you.
as it turns out, she just had a thing against you, apparently. you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it wasn’t difficult to guess that she fucking hated your guts, it was apparent with how she’d glare at you whenever you walked past her, books in hand, or how she’d look at her friends whenever you rose your hand, putting on a mocking smile as she nodded along to you. i mean, it’s not like she pretended to like you, you were very aware of her feelings towards you.
you didn’t really care, though.
sure, you were kind of bummed out that somebody as kind-looking as yunjin disliked you at first, but what could you do, in the end? not everybody was gonna end up liking you, and that was okay. that’s what society is, after all. some people will like you, some people simply will not, and that’s just life. still, though, it’s not like you did anything to cause her to hate you.. did you?
nonetheless, slowly but surely, you started getting invested in your task again, the remarks of the girls eventually being tuned out of your brain as you grabbed your calculator. 
that is, until you felt her more than overwhelming presence behind your shoulder. you could only sigh, 
god damn it.
she pulled on a strand of your hair as she threw her history book on the desk, startling you, “d’you hear me, bitch? the bell rang ages ago, either you go home and leave, or you stay here, be a useful little student and do my work. your choice.” 
you heard her friends cackle on the other side of the classroom as she pestered you.
god, and you were actually getting something done, for once.
standing up in a swift motion, you groaned and quickly picked up all of your things before shoving them inside your bag, getting ready to leave.
“since you asked so nicely.” was all you said, annoyed and heading straight for the door, your hand almost coming in contact with the doorknob. you were about to leave.
until she grabbed your hair and pulled you back, making you land butt-first on the ground, earning a collective laugh from the others.
“ow— w-what the fuck is wrong with you???” you yelled, grabbing the back of your hair, where she pulled on, caressing said spot in hopes of soothing it. 
“what’s wrong with you? i ask you a question, and you don’t answer?? not what i expected from miss goody-two-shoes..” she mocked, wearing a fake pout as she slightly tilted her head, “i’m incredibly disappointed, y/n..” 
you could only furrow your eyebrows and narrow your eyes at her, because what the fuck was actually wrong with her?? yeah, she was always annoying, but she never got violent with you, what changed today?
“no seriously, yunjin, what did i ever do to you?” you stood back up, unconsciously leaving your bag on the floor, “ever since i’ve met you, you’ve just been nothing but a bitch to me, and only me. seriously, tell me, what did i do to you?”
she, in response, only looked back at her friends who were sitting back and watching you two go at it, no really, they even grabbed chairs.
“what didn’t you do?” when she looked back at you, something in her eyes shifted, her gaze was no longer playful, it seemed evil, “everytime i look at you, you’re always on top of your shit,  always doing what’s right. i mean— for fuck’s sake, your posture’s always straight, your assignments are always done, your grades are fucking perfect, your goddamn locker’s organized…  and at lunch? you’re doing homework. you’re so— you’re just so fucking annoying. you realize that, right?” 
…was this seriously what this was all about? you took school seriously, and she didn’t, so she was.. mad about it?? i mean— you’re literal seniors, of course you were gonna take school seriously? you looked back at her, still processing everything. you were perplexed, and she was stepping closer to you as you backed away, unconsciously pinning yourself against the wall.
“i-im sorry..? i really didn’t mean to make it seem like i was rubbing it in your face—”
“see? there you go again, doing what’s right, as per usual. apologizing, being the bigger person, making me seem like the bitch here, right? i see right through your facade, y/n, you think you’re better than everyone, when really, you’re the worst kind of person out there.” 
at this point, she was inches away from your face, her gaze piercing through your soul like she was looking into the deep depths of your personality, searching for any sort of crack in your cool and composed demeanor. you always seemed so sure of yourself, she wanted to see you lose it, she wanted to see you lose control over everything around you, she was dying to see it.. 
but, much to her dismay, she found nothing.
“you’re fucking insane.” was what you whispered, looking at her with nothing but arrogance and worry in your expression. she stared back at you some more, before allowing herself to crack a distorted smile. what was she—
before you knew it, her lips roughly came into contact with yours as she grabbed your face, kissing you like she’d die if she didn’t. you were thrown off-guard, way off guard, especially because of how sudden this was from her, because of how sudden this was altogether. plus, the fact that you didn’t push her away just made it all so much more puzzling, why didn’t you? you were baffled, so baffled that you didn’t even realize her free hand roaming your body. she caressed all over your lower stomach, fingers tracing your thighs before reaching for your lower back, reaching under your skirt and cupping your ass almost immediately after her hand landed on it.
still hungrily making out with you, her hand ended up on one of your pockets, the one containing the classroom keys. of course, the teacher always trusted that you’d lock the classroom once you were done with your work, so he didn’t mind giving you the responsibility.
you didn’t even realize that she reached into the pocket and grabbed the keys, that is, until she quickly pulled away afterwards, leaving you breathless. as you opened your eyes again and caught your breath, you saw yunjin throw the keys behind her shoulder, “here,” the obnoxious sound of them being tossed around occupying your thoughts, “lock the door.”
watching as one of the other girls scrambled to catch them, you spoke up, “w-what are you—“
a loud slap resonated through the classroom before leaving space for silence to settle in, your face was stinging. then, when you raised your hand to put it on your cheek, trying to understand what on earth was actually going on, you heard the click of the lock.
“shut the fuck up.” she said, quickly grabbing you and your attention by the jaw and forcefully making you face her before putting on the fake cutesy face you know so well, talking to you as she would a stupid puppy,
“let’s play a little game, hm?” she slightly leaned in, in order to face you directly, “it’s gonna be called ‘how to be a good student’, the rules are simple; you’re gonna pretend that i’m your teacher and i’ll tell you to do certain things, you just have to obey. you can do that for me, right?” 
you gulped, fear plastered all over your expression as you looked back at her.. but also, there was a hint of anticipation? what was she gonna force you to do?? the sane part of yourself tried shaking it off, but to no avail. it was probably way wrong to admit, fucked, even.. but you wanted to see how far she would go. you wanted to see what she wanted to do to you.
you were scared, sure, but also somewhat excited.
she patted your cheek, bringing you back to the reality before you, her friends still behind her, sick smiles as they watched,  “understood?” she asked.
you could only reluctantly nod in response.
“words, dumb bitch. you’re usually really good at using those, aren’t you?” she tilted her head, eyeing your legs as her hand slightly fiddled with your skirt before her cold gaze went back on yours, “so, use them.” 
your breathing getting heavier, you tried to push away all of the ridiculous thoughts you had, why the fuck were you yearning whatever she was planning? you quietly and unintentionally whined, hoping that she didn’t hear, then you eventually managed to choke up a reply, “y-yes.”
she scoffed, “yes what? i’m sure you don’t talk to teachers like that, do you?” 
you closed your eyes momentarily, “yes.. m-miss.”
she snickered, letting out a mocking laugh shortly after as she mumbled something along the lines of ‘i didn’t think you would actually do it.’, raising her eyebrows in the process. her friends seemed rather amused, too, since they were all cracking up behind yunjin, one of them even grabbed her phone and started recording. 
wait.
recording??
“t-the phone— what are you doing w-why are you recording—“
the girl in front of you rolled her eyes while backing away from you, sighing exasperatedly, “relax, if you just do as i say and listen to me, i promise you that we’re not posting it anywhere. okay?”
your reputation, your scholarship, she was risking all of it. what if your parents— you couldn’t even finish that thought without feeling chills down your spine
at this point, you had no choice but to trust her words.
“now, strip.” she added.
you hesitated, looking at every corner of the room, your brain desperately trying to forget that there were people watching you attentively. 
after a few seconds, your eyes eventually landed on the ginger standing in front of you, arms crossed. her gaze stern as she looked at you; you particularly noticed how she seemed to be devouring your entire body only using her hooded eyes.
that, for some reason, gave you the willpower to do as she told you to. 
you slowly and nervously unbuttoned your blazer and looked straight at her, your eyebrows slightly upturned, which earned a smirk from yunjin.
you looked like a prey being cornered by its predator, it drove her insane. 
you paid no particular attention to the friends that were screaming, cheering you on and insisting that you take it off faster, treating this whole situation like it was a striptease. once you were only in your bra, you moved on over to your skirt, unzipping the side and slowly sliding it down, still unsure of whatever the fuck you were doing at that moment.
yunjin seemed pleased, very pleased.
“good girl.” the way her tongue rolled off the top of her mouth saying that gave you goosebumps, “now, go bend over that desk and wait.” she added, pointing to… the teacher’s desk.
a surge of shame suddenly washed over you when you remembered the amount of trust that said-teacher had in you. what would he think of you if he knew you were being so inappropriate in his workspace? as if the wall you were standing against gave you some sort of comfort, you didn’t want to move. 
at all.
yunjin’s eyebrows furrowed, “come on, y/n.” she said, with a familiar, fear-inducing playful tone, “bend over that fucking desk or i swear i’m gonna make you regret ever attending your stupid classes.”
you were terrified, you knew she was fully capable of physically hurting you, she’s already done it up until now. 
so you did what she ordered. 
you obeyed.
you sucked up your embarrassment you felt in the process of walking past her friends, half naked and leaning against the desk. you kept your head down; feeling their phone cameras on you, you wanted to hope that hiding your face would make you feel better, so you just kept looking down. until,
a few seconds after, you heard noise behind you, noise that sounded like… bag scrambling? like someone was actively looking for something specific, which undeniably got you very worried. 
you remembered your bag, the vision of you leaving it on the floor kept replaying in your mind.
fuck?
nonetheless, said sound only lasted for a few more seconds before stopping abruptly. then, you heard footsteps, who you could only assume were yunjin’s, get closer to you—
you saw a manicured hand slide a sheet of paper, a pencil and a calculator across the table… 
the sheet.. was your math homework. the one you were working on not too long ago, it was in front of you.
then, feeling a hand gently rub on your lower back as the girls in the room giggled, you flinched slightly. “finish this assignment.” she ordered, cold, before adding onto it, “and under no circumstances do you move, okay?”
you breathed heavily, nodding. “y-yes miss..” was what you said, feeling a piece of your dignity leave your body with each second that passed by. what the fuck was she planning on doing to you?
without asking further questions, you grabbed the pencil sitting in front of you and went to work, trying to do what you do best; school work. for a few minutes, it went smoothly, you felt yourself getting calmer as you filled out the answers of the questions before you.
until you felt her fingers slowly slip your underwear down, her hot breath against your ear whilst she watched you work from behind, her friend group letting out ironic cheers. you heard her scoff as her middle finger came into contact with your.. embarrassingly wet cunt, rubbing it carefully.
“you’ve been wet this entire time, huh? didn’t know miss goody-two-shoes was so naughty.” you quietly whimpered at the touch, you were aching and you didn’t even want to fully acknowledge it. then, you heard some of her friends get up, getting closer to the both of you.
it was almost dehumanizing to admit that being treated this way turned you on this much, and the last thing you wanted at that moment was for her to know it.
she wasn’t as stupid as you thought she was, she figured it out fast.
she quickly stuck two of her fingers inside of you, watching you struggle as you tried to take her. “oh my god— don’t tell me that you’re a virgin?” she giggled, curling them and hitting your gspot as you bit your lip trying to suppress the lewd sounds that wanted to escape your mouth, “how does it feel to know that i’m the one taking your disgusting virginity, hm? shit, you’re fucking dripping for this, aren’t you?” was what she whispered in your ear, making sure no one heard it but you.
how considerate.
“mmh— y-yunjin—“ you attempted to turn your head over to look at her, but she quickly grabbed your jaw with her other hand and set it back to its original position. 
“i told you not to move, didn’t i? focus on the fucking paper, whore. don’t make me hit you again, okay baby?” she snapped, being rougher with her fingers in the process. you let out a moan in response, because as much as you tried to deny it, everytime she spoke just made you clench even more around her.
so she sped up the pace with each sound that you let out, it didn’t take long for her to start properly fingering you and allowing her other hand to grope your clothed tits, watching you lose yourself under her inappropriate touch. you wanted more, you weren’t even writing on the damn paper anymore, you needed more of her. you needed to hear her friends call you a brainless whore more often.
you needed it.
your brain was so foggy and blurry that you didn’t even notice one of her friends end up in front of you, shamelessly shoving the camera on you, “come on y/n, look here.” she whined playfully, her turn to take ahold of your face and move it however she pleases, the girl made you look up at her and stuck her thumb into your mouth.
what was her name? chaeyoung? chaeryeong?? chaewon??? you couldn’t quite remember.
god, you didn’t even fucking know her name and you just let her slur you out like this?
“tell me y/n, is miss yunjin making you feel good?”
more, you wanted more. whatever the hell this was, you wanted more, you craved more.
you nodded, eyes hooded and rolled back as you felt the ginger’s long fingers reach deep inside of you, curling at the perfect places, at the perfect time. it felt so good, too good. you slightly drooled on the bob-haired girl’s thumb as your body shook under the both of them. 
feeling yunjin’s mouth against your neck while she kept fingerfucking you, you blabbered, indecent things sounding like “k-keep going— i’ll never be an annoying bitch again i promise i— pleaseplease m-more—“ escaping your mouth.
everyone in the classroom was amused by this, you could tell by the things they said and the laughs they let out occasionally.
yunjin was especially enjoying it, because who would’ve thought l/n y/n would whore herself out for a group of girls she didn’t even know? not her, that’s for sure, but she lived for it, she waited so long for something like this to happen, and it finally did.
for you to be put back in your place, for you to be humbled, for you to be a begging and crying mess all over her. that’s what she hoped for whenever you opened your mouth in class. 
“c-cumming— i’m— c-cumming i—“ you moaned against the sloppy kiss you were having with the other girl.
suddenly, a huge wave of euphoria washed over your entire body, causing your legs and arms to shake, giving out. you weren’t paying any attention to the volume of your voice, but when you felt lips come into contact with yours, you figured that you were being a little too loud.
you wanted more, you needed more.
too bad they simply all left you there, alone, only words spoken by yunjin beforehand being “don’t forget to lock the door afterwards.” after being thrown the keys to the classroom.
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