#his entire jacket is a work of art but you don’t need me to tell you that lmao

[starthelostboys]

i love the squid lures on marko’s jacket but like. did he go to a fishing store and buy those just to put on his jacket?? did he just find them somewhere?? what is the story here

#but legitimately i think it’s a really fun costuming detail #his entire jacket is a work of art but you don’t need me to tell you that lmao #the lost boys #tlb #kate’s bad takes

[donatellawritings]

can you write smut of richie going down on reader for the first time? i feel like he'd be so tender, hand holding, and def talk reader through it

explicit sexual content ahead

Richie Jerimovich loved the art of eating pussy - specifically, your pussy. It got him through some of his most draining days, it kept usually noisy and overworked psyche calm as it channeled its entire focus on one thing and one thing only, making you cum. You could tell that Richie had a bad day at work, wanting nothing more than to take his frustrations out on you.

He was wordless when he entered the front door of your stuffy apartment, hastily shaking his suit jacket off of his back, allowing it to carelessly fall to the floor. He’d texted you right before he clocked out of the restaurant, demanding that you’d be waiting for him, completely naked between the cold sheets of your shared bed. You understood and complied, knowing that he needed a release, your release.

Richie’s bright blue eyes met yours as he stepped into your shared bedroom, his gaze on you never wavering as he undid his tie with one hand, before tossing it on the dresser, rolling up the sleeves of his dress-shirt to the tan skin of his forearm. “Been waiting for this all fuckin’ day, sweetheart,” he rasped, walking over to the foot of your bed, his hands wrapping around your ankles.

“It’s okay, Richie, you have me,” you cooed, licking over your lips as Richie gently tugged you closer to the edge of the bed.

“Open your legs, baby, let me see that pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he ordered, his voice now husky and raw as you obliged.

Richie’s eyes hung low as he watched your legs spread. He let out a breath, lowering himself as he took in the slight glisten of your already-wet and inviting pussy. God, he needed to taste you on his tongue, so fucking bad.

Pressing a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss your sensitive and swollen centre, Richie made out with your slick folds, his tongue drooling lazily into you as he got lost in himself. Your sweet-tinge coated his tongue warmly as Richie swallowed. He needed more.

Wrapping his arms over the tops of your thighs, Richie roughly pulled you closer to him, pressing your legs against your chest as he leaned his face closer to your slippery pussy, nudging your clit with his nose as he licked long stripes up and down your pulsing entrance.

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned, craning your neck down as your eyes fell on Richie’s, watching with an opened mouth as he devoured you whole.

The taller man pulled away from you, maintaining a dead-set eye contact with you as he allowed a long line of his cum-mixed saliva to drip down to your pussy, the contact causing your back to arch off of the mattress.

“Fuck me,” Richie groaned, before returning his head to its rightful spot between your thighs, sliding one of his long and slender arms up your abdomen, a hum leaving his lips and vibrating against your pulsing core as your fingers interlocked with his.

Pressing a wet and noisy kiss to your clit, Richie gazed up at you, a smirk tugging on his lips as your fingers tightened around his, “look at me, beautiful, god, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he teased mockingly, not missing the way your abdomen end tightened as menacingly pressed his tongue against your throbbing entrance.

Your head fell back against the soft push of your pillows, a low whimper crying out from your throat as Richie pushed his tongue inside of you, before pulling out just as quickly.

“Fuck, y’gonna cum so fuckin’ hard, right baby?” He rasped, licking ha long strip of saliva from your taint, up t your clit - repeating this over and over until you reached your free hand down to his short hair, pushing his face deeper into you needy pussy.

Now cocky and prideful, Richie pushed his tongue in and out of your tight hole, rubbing his rough beard against your sensitive folds as he moved his head up and down.

“Don’t fucking stop, please bab-”

Your hips, now having a mind of their own, rolled against Richie’s face as you craved friction, fighting to bring yourself to the delicious climax that awaited you. The warmth of Richie’s tongue, the cutting sting of his facial hair against your tender skin, the smooth slickness of his spit drooling onto you - fuck, you were so close.

“Come on, baby, fuck,” Richie pressed himself deeper, his eyes watching as you lost yourself your back arched, nipples hardened, and breathing choppy, “You’re doing so good baby, so fuckin’ good.”

Richie feverishly lapped at you, the sight of you chasing your orgasm, almost being enough to bring himself to cum as he grabbed ahold of your hips, grinding them against his tongue as you craned your neck back with a hoarse cry.

“Fuck, Richie fuck-“ you cried out, warm tears running down your cheeks.

The sweet-tang of your cum oozed onto Richie’s tongue, a satisfied hum now flowing out of his lips as he greedily drank you, lapping every ounce of your cum that leaked out of you, “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, let it go, sweetheart,” he coaxed, his licks becoming slower and softer as you came down from your overwhelming high.

Pulling his face away from you, Richie ran a hand over his beard, a low chuckle, his eyes taking in the way his fingers were covered in your cum and his spit.

You remained laid on the bed, your breathing now slowly evening out as you swallowed thickly, struggling to speak as you stared at the ceiling.

You were so fucked out, without him properly fucking you, and that brought a cocky smile to Richie Jerimovich’s wet lips.

Unbuttoning his dress-shirt entirely, Richie walked over to where you laid, resting one of his hands on your waist as he leaned down, pressing a sweet and warm kiss to your lips, softly sliding his tongue against yours, he always loved when you’d taste yourself.

You pulled away with a drunken smile and heavy eyelids.

“I fuckin’ needed that, thank you,” he mumbled, pecking your lips a few times, his rough hand soothing the side of your waist.

“Glad I could help,” you smiled.

#asks #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich smut #anon #richie jerimovich imagine

[epithet-beloved]

Yo!! Could you maybe make a Giovanni + One of his minions, but they suffer with chronic pain and fatigue? I suffer with these but id totally still enjoy crimes so id love to see something like this! (The eepy gets to me sometimes but 🖕 it, crime time)

GIOVANNI + READER WITH CHRONIC PAIN/FATIGUE

synopsis… Giovanni with a minion who experiences chronic pain and fatigue

ft. Giovanni Potage, The Boys (mentioned), Molly Blyndeff (mentioned)

tags… epithet erased, can be read as romantic or platonic, reader has chronic illness, fluff, reader is one of Giovanni’s minions, crime time fun times

word count… 735

a/n… I’m not familiar with chronic fatigue or pain, so I hope I did a good job! Inclusive fanfic is very important everyone deserves the comfort character content ✧ 🦄

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 He is so accepting of literally anything you tell him, it’s almost enough to make you weep.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Like the first time you explain some of your limitations or that you can have off days where you can’t do much or can hardly do anything, he just smiles and says “alright!”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 It damn near brings you to tears.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Did I say something weird?”

“No, no, just…..” you smiled, making no effort to hide the tiredness behind it. “You didn’t….ask me why I couldn’t just work around it, or ask me to make an exception for you, or anything, you just….said okay?”

“Pffft,” Giovanni scoffed at the very notion. “The hell would I do that for? You know you better than I do!”

You resume crying.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 It’s seriously such a breath of fresh air to be with somebody who isn’t constantly offering unsolicited advice the second your condition becomes inconvenient to them. Giovanni is a lot of things, but a know it all is certainly not one of them.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Whenever Giovanni has a suggestion or a piece of information he found that he wants to present, he phrases it as a question to you because you’re the one who knows most about your health and he doesn’t want to Mansplain(™). In fact, mansplaining is strictly prohibited in the Vincent Murder Bad Guy Rulez, so that sort of stuff won’t stand.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Of course, all the boys follow these rules, too! If anyone is unaware of your needs they will get a very enthusiastic interruption by Giovanni while he insists they let you explain. Yeah, he always lets you explain yourself first. It’s amazing.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 You will be accommodated anywhere, anytime. Feeling faint during a walk? He’ll find the nearest place to sit. Hell, he’ll sit down and let you rest on his knee or something. Real villains know how to protect their minions at a moment’s notice.

“Hold on.” You grabbed Giovanni’s jacket sleeve to support yourself, instantly catching the tall male’s attention.

“Woah, you good?” You answered by leaning on him even further, feeling your legs fail you at the most inopportune of times. “Here, let’s sit down a minute.”

Slowly, he would sit down on the closest available bench, guiding you as to not have you collapse. The second you were safely seated, you felt him pull away from you. At first, this confused you, but your curiosity was resolved when you felt a jacket drape over your shoulders.

“There. Can’t have any of my minions freezing to death, after all!”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 One of Giovanni’s love languages is food, so if you let him, he will give you homemade soup when you’re feeling under the weather. He understands you don’t have a cold or anything — it’s just a gesture he does to let you know you’re always on his mind.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 If you can’t attend a Cool Crime Event(™) because you’re feeling under the weather, Giovanni will have you on speaker on his phone the entire time so you can still chat and engage with the Boys.

“Ben said he stole a bag of chips in your honor today. We can drop it off later!”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Accessible crime is VERY important to Giovanni. Villainy is an art and should be able to be practiced by anyone and everyone! This results in him getting more and more creative with his antics to include you if needed. Prank calling from Crusher’s treehouse is always a classic, and pirating a movie is one of the best crimes of all! Fun for the whole evil family!

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 You and Molly can be tired together. Once, when Giovanni had invited you both over, he found you two asleep together in front of the TV. He sent a million pictures to everybody he knows.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 There is also time that Giovanni makes sure to reserve specifically for you. Being included in a group is important, but so is one on one attention! These hangouts are highly customizable to whatever your tastes are and whatever your energy levels are for the day. Even on days that you may insist you’re cranky, tired or not great to be around, he’ll still be there for you if you let him!

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 And if you need time to yourself, no matter what the reason is, then he’ll make sure to always have a new fun surprise planned for when you’re ready to wreak havoc again.

#🦄's writings #𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 request ! #epithet erased #epithet erased x reader #epithet erased imagines #giovanni potage #giovanni potage x reader #giovanni potage imagines #is my giovanni bias apparent yet

[tohellandback99]

I wanted to talk about this for a minute after sharing the painting first.

I figured out what was throwing me off a bit on my other recent drawings! ☺️

I’ve got a whole trait of my art style that I’ve been shutting out and I didn’t even know it until I drew these two together in a painting, again. When I showed someone this page on the exact same day they said that it looks like my style, “spindly, like Tim Burton.” I was like, “wut?” And they said that it’s the limbs on both of them and how they look kind of thin and long.

This was something I was first aware of and didn’t like about when I first started drawing people because they looked really stiff, and because it doesn’t work with all body types and I thought it would be an issue and something I shouldn’t do. I tried to fix it, and you can probably tell now by me admitting this. I did this same thing in my other painting. In both of these we have Kat and Raúl moving around ALSO, and so don’t look very stiff at all. I do this by “mistake,” often because I just forgot this variation of what my art looks like comes off quick when there’s a big background. I just got so used to trying to “fix” my art that I didn’t realize I was “fixing” it, but now I’ve realized that that actually doesn’t work in my favor anymore. I also tend to draw people really small on the page, even before doing anything comic related and this also is something that added to my confusion about what was happening and what I think I need to be more self accepting about personally, when I draw and paint

See his body and arms are a bit longer and spindly here as well?…. Yeah 🥺 and now that I know this, I’m going to just work with the fact that I do this naturally.

I also would force-make his face more square. as my new painting has shown me about my suspicions about my own art, he doesn’t need it. his head and face is entirely ovals and not square at all.

Omygod, the second picture with Kat’s skirt has red swoops. That’s me taking “notes” lol. Btw, her jacket is the same as Raúl’s. Is subject to change… and I gave her a Mohawk because she’s more than earned it. Raúl has a beret because of course. I settled on that even though it’s cold and berets don’t cover much, but I must have him put a hat on outside and that he needs something to stay warm… (Help me)

my internal Matriarch cannot help herself and I wouldn’t feel the end of it if I did not give him gloves, scarf and a hat. 😓I was not expecting this and I don’t know what else to do about it… it is driving me insane often when I realize this and see him without a hat on in the blistering ass cold

#raul cocolotl #kat elliot #wendell and wild #w&w #fanart #rambles #art troubles #technical difficulties #drawing process

[ponyosmom35]

I remember you (Elliot x OC)

Elliot Alderson x Original Character

Synopsis: The reader was dating Elliot before he forgot who he was, she never left his side. and months later he remembers.

He clutches his head as memories flash through his eyes. 

There she was, standing in a dress, her hair was curled and she had a smile on her face as she opened the door to see who’d knocked. This woman, the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen in his life. All of the air is stolen from his lungs as he meets her eyes. Her aqua-colored eyes. After seeing the note she posted in the mail room about needing help with her computer, Elliot was curious. He surprised himself by responding to the ad and emailing her. Two days later he stood in front of her door, his heart beating out of his chest. His palms sweating. He’d never felt this way before.

“Hi, Elliot I assume?” she asks  

“Uh yeah” he responds awkwardly 

“I’m Willow, and I cannot thank you enough for answering! I tried taking it to a shop but they wanted to charge me $200, this was kinda my last resort” she explains 

“I’m happy to help”

“I hope you’re good, because I don’t know the first thing about computers” she says “come on in” 

Elliot follows her into her apartment, the layout the exact same as his. She’d decorated the place well, it looked like a home. She had tons of plants brightening up the space, as well as wall art covering every inch of space. A lot of color. He noticed her large bookshelf, a gorgeous color-coded collection. Her windows had sheer multicolored curtains which kept her entire apartment incredibly visible from onlookers. She had no tv and a large cat lying in the center of her bed. Her desk sat in front of the window just like his own, giving her a view of the apartments across the street. He wondered if they could see into her space just as well. The thought made him sick to his stomach. 

“Here it is” she says leading him over to the desk, her MacBook sits in the middle of the desk, perfectly aligned with the planner next to it. As soon as he laid eyes on it, he could tell that it was a simple fix. Five minutes max. A part of him felt disappointed that it wasn’t a large project to keep him in her apartment for hours. 

“I see what’s going on, its no problem” he says as he begins typing in a code

“Oh my gosh you are literally a lifesaver, I need this for work like seriously my entire life is on this dumb computer” 

“Fuck me” he curses 

“Elliot what’s wrong?” she asks 

“No I told you, dinner is on me as a thank you” she smiles as she sits across from him in the diner. “What sounds good?” she asks 

“I’m not sure” 

“Well I can recommend their garden burger, it’s one of the best I’ve ever had” 

“Garden burger?” he asks 

“Oh I’m a vegetarian by choice. I watched an animal cruelty doc in high school and now I’m scared for life”

“Okay, I’ll try it” he nods 

“Really? Nobody has ever actually listened to my recommendations before” she laughs 

“If I hate it then that means you’ll just have to take me out again�� he says, smiling at her

“Deal” she smirks 

“you’re scaring me”

“How did you get into coding? It seems like such a niche skill” she asks as they walk down the street side by side. His jacket slid over her shoulders. 

“My dad taught me my first code, I taught myself the rest” he shrugs 

“Why?”

“I always found it to be interesting, the power of hacking into something and being able to see all of the secrets someone’s hiding. You can see exactly who someone is, no sugar coating no lies. You can always trust a code” he admits, shocked that he felt comfortable enough to actually say any of this out loud. 

“Have you ever hacked me?” she asks quietly 

“No” 

“Why not?”

“You’re different, not like the rest. You don’t rely on technology to survive. I wanted to know you” he says 

“I’m glad you responded to my ad Elliot” she smiles 

“Me too”

“Do you want me to call Darlene?” she asks 

Elliot stands to his feet and scrambles to his door to see who would be knocking at 9 pm. He looks through the peephole and there she was. He rips the door open and stares at her in concern. Before he could say a word she drops her head as her lips tremble. Tears fall down her cheeks and Elliot panics. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks

“My boss, he asked me to dinner tonight to discuss our big meeting on Friday. But he never even brought it up,  he told me that If I didn’t sleep with him then I would lose my job. I can’t afford to lose my job, Elliot! I love what I do, fuck I don’t know what I’m gonna do” she responds. His body is filled with rage as he takes in her words. 

“What did you say?” he asks 

“I told him I had to go and I ran straight here” she sniffles 

Elliot pulls her into his arms, holding her body close to his as he lets her cry. He clutches onto her hair, smoothing it gently. He’d never been comfortable with touch before, yet at the moment he’d met this girl he wanted to touch her skin, feel how soft it would be. He craved her like nothing before. 

“I’m gonna fix this, don’t worry” he promises as he places a kiss on her head. 

“Please say something!” she pleads 

Elliot had just gotten off of work. He hated his new job. A simple programmer, protecting Allsafe from any potential hacks. The simplicity of it was nice, yet he craved more. He was capable of so much more. He sets his bag down and sits on his couch. He was tired, after he’d spent the night talking to Willow’s boss, he hacked him and exposed him to the police for money laundering. He’d stolen millions. He closes his eyes to attempt to get some rest when a hand slams on the door, pounding angrily. He gets up and opens it to see WIllow. 

She pushes past him and walks into the center of his apartment and crosses her arms. “Did you hack my boss?” 

“Yes” he shrugs 

“He got arrested at work today, they said he was stealing money” she snaps, he does not respond and stares at her blankly. “You can’t just do things like this Elliot!”

“I was protecting you” he says, causing her to stare at him with an unknown emotion in her eyes. 

“Its not your job to protect me, you put yourself at risk” 

“I don’t make mistakes, and I don’t leave evidence behind” he says moving closer to her

“I can take care of myself” she says in a small voice as he stands mere inches from her. 

“I know you can”

“So why do this?”

“He made you upset, he tried to hurt you. He doesn’t t get to go free after that” 

“Why does that matter to you?” she asks

“Because you - you’re everything to me Will” 

“I - what?” she asks 

“I refuse to let anyone hurt you ever again” 

Elliot places a hand on her cheek and kisses her gently. She gasps in shock and melts into his hold. The touch of her skin against his makes him feel alive. This is what he’d been searching for his entire life. Peace washes over his anxious brain. All of the loneliness that consumed his nights melted away. This was it, this was everything. 

His eyes finally focus on her own, noticing the panic in her eyes as her tears threaten to spill. Two years’ worth of memories flooded him. All of the unconditional love and support she’d given him. The hours she held him while his body fought his anxiety. The way she would curl into his chest at night, tucking herself into him. Her loud laugh bounced off the walls of the apartment as she forced him to dance. He was happy, he was loved. And he’d forgotten her. Treated her horribly. She’d never said a word about who she was to him. Despite all of his words she stayed by his side. 

“I remember” he says simply 

“What?”

“I remember us” 

“Don’t fuck with me like that Elliot” she warns, stepping back. He reaches out and grips her arm out of instinct. 

“Your real name is Margaret, after your grandmother, but you go by your middle name” he says, watching as her tears fall. “You’re a Taurus and your favorite flowers are roses even though you’re allergic. You are my girlfriend, the woman I love. You are real”

“El?” she asks  

Elliot pulls her into a hug, holding her as though she may disappear any second. Willow breaks down into tears and cries into his shoulder. Her entire body shakes as she sobs. 

“Fuck I’m so sorry - I can’t even begin to apologize for what I’ve done” 

“It’s not your fault” 

“I left you”

“I knew something was wrong, it wasn’t you. I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me” she says as he wipes her tears 

“You knew?” 

“I wasn’t sure, but I knew that he wasn’t you. I’m just so glad that your back” she smiles

#mr robot #rami malek #elliot alderson #alderson #smut #love #angst #did system #elliot x reader #elliot x y/n #mr robot imagine

[happyinjection]

♠️♥️High Card Short Story 6 “An Afternoon with Finn and Chris” (1/3)♦️♣️

What do car dealers do on their lunch break? Finn, for one, took Chris out to the backyard of the store...

Original: https://twitter.com/highcard_pj/status/1540170704884072448

Author: https://twitter.com/poipheno

Artist: https://twitter.com/ebimoji3

Lunch break. I stuffed a sandwich into my mouth and dragged Chris out through the backdoor by his arm. 

“Finn~ I was planning to eat dessert after my lunch, you know~”

“You’ve promised to do it today, remember? Come on, let’s go.”

The backyard was bathed in soft sunlight, and purple flowers were blooming from the plants tended by Bernard-ojiichan and Vijay.

“What a pushy kid. Fine, just give a moment.”

Chris, who appeared reluctant, didn’t move from his spot as he shoved a spoonful of pudding from the jar into his mouth.

“Hurry up. We don’t have much time.”

“Okay, okay. I got it.”

Previously, I had gotten Chris to promise that he would teach me martial arts. Long story short, we had been busy with our job as car dealers, and thus our plan had been postponed several times, but today both of us could finally make it.

“I’m not a fan of getting all sweaty with men, though.”

“Stop saying disgusting stuff so often. Come on, hurry up and teach me already!”

“I don’t think it’s anything worth teaching.”

I took off my suit jacket, pulled my necktie off, then draped them over a garden bench. I also took off my watch and rolled up the sleeves of my shirt.

“I mean, Finn, you’re already pretty good at fighting. Surely you have no need for extra training?”

“No problem, just teach me what you know!”

Before I joined High Card, I used to do boxing casually with my friends. However, after going on several missions with Chris, I learned that people who have been through intense training are on an entirely different level compared to those who don’t.

According to what he told me, it seemed that Chris had been trained in martial arts by his father when he was young. His basic skills laid in muay thai and MMA—mixed martial arts. In short, he could do anything in terms of full body combat.

“Very well, for the sake of my cute junior, I guess I can afford to take off a layer or two. One thrust at a time, maybe something more would come out of this, yeah?[*]”

I had no idea what he meant by that, but Chris simply chuckled at me.

“Show me what you’ve got.”

“’Kay.”

I took a shoulder-width stance by putting my left foot forward, then held up both of my fists to the height of my cheeks.

“My style is kind of like boxing. Here it comes, shadow.”

Shadow is a term for when one attacks or dodges while imagining their opponent in their head.

One-two, hook, uppercut, body-ducking, and swayback, I alternated between hitting and dodging.

The cobblestones on the ground rubbed against my leather soles, producing a crisp sound.

“So, how was it? What should I change to improve?”

I panted heavily through my nose.

“Isn’t that already good enough the way it is?”

“What the hell, there’s no way that’s true! Tell me your actual thoughts!”

“No, no, I’m serious. You did good enough. To be fair, on our missions, we don’t usually get into situations where we must go wild in a fistfight, anyway.”

“It did happen last time, though.”

“Finn has sharp eyesight, so you’ll be just fine. Besides, this place is not ideal for training to begin with. MMA especially requires us to work as a pair and involves a lot of getting thrown down. If you’ll follow me to my bed, perhaps then I would reconsider.”

Ignoring his joke, I turned on my heels.

“Alright then! I’m just gonna ask Wendy to teach me.”

In an instant Chris was grabbing on my arm.

“Stop right there! Wendy doesn’t know how to take it easy when giving a lesson, she will definitely break you!”

“So hurry up and teach me instead.”

“Okay, okay. So eager to get back together after breaking up with me, huh.”

Chris took off his suit jacket and threw it over the garden bench. Following that he pulled his necktie off and undid his first button. He took off his dark green watch, then finally rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Due to his tall height, he might seem slender at a glance, but his arms were strong with visible blue veins running all the way down to his wrists.

“Here we go, let’s get into position one more time.”

As I was getting ready, Chris walked around behind me. He put his hands on my shoulders, rubbing on them.

“Hmm, nice frame.”

“Don’t get too handsy with me.”

“No, I’m just stating the truth? Not only you have good eyesight, but you also have a strong body, and you’re surprisingly flexible. Alright, go ahead and start with another one-two.”

I gave him a one-two.

“There’s an opening on your side. Also, your left side isn’t extended wide enough. Since Finn is ambidextrous, if closely observed, your balance when throwing a hit is better than most people.”

While saying that, Chris kept his hands on my hip bones the entire time. It bugged me, but I held on.

“Leave yourself to me, and relax.”

“No need to say unnecessary stuff.”

“Now, pay attention on how you rotate your left hip.”

“Like this?”

“Pull your shoulders in a bit more. Don’t tuck your chin.”

“So, like this?”

“Don’t let your body get carried away. Plant your feet firmly on the ground.”

“Then how about this—!”

Suddenly, whoosh, a faint sound of my fist cutting through the air could be heard.

“Woah! That sound just now, did you catch that?!?! That’s one hell of a punch!”

“Well, you pretty much got it. However, sports and an actual combat are two different things. If you stick to your own rules you will lose, such is the theory of fighting. Thankfully Finn is already good at making things up on the spot, so why not trust your own eyes and intuition?”

“If you say so..... but first, get your hands off my waist.”

With a grin tugging on his lips, Chris held up both of his hands comically.

♠️♥️♦️♣️

TL notes: Chris “sexual innuendo” Redgrave, everyone. [*] This is not exactly what he says but you get the idea. Also, this is the best pun I can come up with at the moment. Once again I’m not posting this one in the correct order but I feel like this must be done before episode 9! As usual, let’s enjoy High Card together~

#highcard #high card #finn oldman #chris redgrave #hcss #short story #translation

[izziebeex]

My nerd of a neighbour {chapter one} || e.m

summary: Eddie really needs to get his priorities in check if he wants to graduate this year, but he’s in need of someone who is going to keep him accountable. So, he asks the smartest girl he can think of. Although hesitant at first, she soon agrees. But she’s nothing like what Eddie had imagined.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader                            word count: 2.1k ish                                                                       genre/tropes: unknown mutual pining, straight A student x freak. warnings: use of y/n, not exactly following plot so just ignore that lol, nothing else really but next part will have more warnings. NOT PROOF READ!!                                                       author’s note: this is my first fic and I really hope that you enjoy it. I’m still grieving and I think we all are, so maybe I can provide a sort of comfort in this time of deep sadness :(

{chapter two}

y/n was walking through the darkened halls of Hawkins High. It was after hours and she had just finished researching in the library for a horrid english midterm she had coming up. The school was eerily calm for that particular day of the week. She knew that the Hellfire Club always met on Thursday nights, but as she walked the hall where the drama room resided she couldn’t help but wonder where the members were… not that she cared or anything.

Y/n looked through the window on the art covered door. She couldn’t see anything except for a large table covered in papers and knick-knacks, as well as a large throne seated at the end. The odd environment was enough to catch her attention, so she decided to go in. The dim lights and cluttered shelves around the room gave it a creepy nature, and y/n couldn’t help but feel as though she was being watched; although she couldn’t see anything lurking in the shadows. She stepped over to the table in a cautious manner and took notice of the small figurines decorating the surface. Characters she assumed. There was a folder standing up near the end with the throne and y/n couldn’t help but wonder what was behind it. She was curious enough to walk around to the end of the table. But you know what they say; curiosity killed the cat…

“It’s not cool to snoop, y’know?”

Y/n shrieked as she turned toward the unexpected voice.

There, standing in all his glory, was Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. Long, dark, unruly hair draping his shoulders. Leather jacket and denim vest hanging from his figure. Not that she was particularly interested in the way he looked… Y/n was just observant.

Okay, that was a huge lie. She absolutely thought he was attractive. He was very handsome, and equally as beautiful. With his big puppy-dog eyes and shit-eating grin, he was the most visually appealing man y/n had ever laid eyes on — although she would never admit this. She had a reputation to uphold. She was a straight A student, plowing her way through the rest of the student body and on her way to becoming Valedictorian. Y/n would never tell about her crush on Eddie Munson. No matter how insignificant and minute she thought it was. She had better, more important things to focus on.

She would never end up like her parents. Ever.

“Shit! Were you seriously watching me that entire time!?”

“Pretty much,” Eddie replied, unfazed by y/n’s outburst. “What are you doing here anyways?”

“I was in the library working on my English midterm. Why are you here alone? Don’t you and your club meet here on Thursdays?” y/n questioned the boy.

“Everyone else left already. We finished our campaign 20 minutes ago. Why ya wonderin’, sweetheart?” Eddie teased with a playful grin.

She countered with a displeased look.

God, she hated when he called her that. At least that’s what she told herself. In the very few real encounters they’d had, he had already reserved her a nickname.

“Sorry I interrupted. I’ll leave you to your devil worship,” y/n said in a sarcastic tone. In return she only got a smirk.

Y/n scoffed and marched to the door. She tugged the handle and walked out, only stopping when she heard him speak again.

“Wait!” he yelled from inside and she turned to show him her unimpressed look.

Eddie just stood there unsure of how to continue. Y/n raised her eyebrows as a sign for him to start talking.

“You’re smart, right? Well, of course you’re smart,” he shook his head. “It’s just that-” he paused.

Now y/n was just plain confused.

Eddie sighed, then continued. “Look, I’m failing almost all of my classes. I just can’t seem to understand any of it, even though I’ve taken all the classes before. But I need to graduate this year. Finally get out of this shithole,” he laughed. “I need someone to help me. I’m not one to admit defeat, but AP English and Spanish 1 have been kicking my ass for three years now,” he lifted his head to look at her. She was losing patience and he knew it. He took a deep breath and finally popped the question. “What I’m really trying to ask, is will you be my tutor for the rest of the semester?”

The expression on her face was blank. So blank that he almost cowered. But in her head, everything was a jumbled mess.

He wants me to be his tutor?

Out of every decently intelligent in this school, he thought of me?

Is this some sort of joke?

Is he poking fun at me because I’m a killjoy who never had any fun?

“Why me?” was all y/n could come up with.

“Cause you’re the smartest person at this school and I kinda need all the help I can get,” Eddie said matter-of-factly.

Y/n stood there for a second, soaking up what he had just asked of her. She was unsure if being Eddie’s tutor was really a good idea. It really didn’t seem like it. But, on the other hand, he seemed desperate to graduate. Let’s face it, he was a triple-senior. Oh sweet Jesus, here we go.

“Okay,” y/n replied blandly.

“That’s okay, I get it. You have other- wait! Did you say okay!?” Eddie seemed surprised. Did she really come off as that rude?

“Yea I said okay,” she said, a little disheartened if she was being honest.

“O-okay. That’s great! Thank you! You won’t regret this, I promise,” Eddie said excitedly. Although y/n was close to certain she would regret her decision.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then, Munson,” y/n said, seemingly very tired.

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Eddie replied, still in shock.

Y/n walked to the door, turning to throw Eddie a small smile when he wished her a goodnight. And with that, she walked down the hall towards the exit of the school. She went home to lay in bed, only to fall asleep to worries of what the next few months would bring.

——————————————————————————

The next day at school was mind-numbingly uneventful. But hey! At least it was Friday. Morning AP English classes and Advanced Functions didn’t really pique her interest, no matter how much the people around her thought it did.

Lunch was boring, as always. Y/n’s nose stuck in a book, Return of the King to be exact, oblivious to the pair of eyes staring at her from across the cafeteria.

“Hey. You okay, man?” Dustin Henderson asked from his spot to the left of Eddie.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Eddie replied, disconnected from the conversation.

Dustin could see clearly who his Dungeon Master was gazing at. And I’m all honesty, he wasn’t surprised. He had seen Eddie looking in y/n’s direction before, though he would never bring this up in conversation.

“Why are you staring at her like that?” the kid questioned.

“At who and like what?” Eddie said, acting clueless.

“At y/n, like she’s Princess Leia in a gold bikini,” Dustin replied, although he knew full well Eddie knew what he was talking about.

This statement caught attention of the remaining members of the Hellfire Club. They all looked between Dustin and Eddie with the utmost curiosity.

“Y/n? As in straight A student, on her way to becoming Valedictorian y/n?” Mike pondered, surprised yet confused.

“What you got a crush on of somethin’?” Jeff asked, laugh.

“Holy hell! Just imagine that! The freak and the priss!” Gareth added dramatically, beginning to cackle as well.

“Don’t call her that,” Eddie said, obviously frustrated by what was going on at his table.

“Come on, man. You know I’m not wrong. She’s a total priss,” Gareth said chuckling.

“Shut it, man! Okay? Don’t talk about her like that,” Eddie said, defending y/n.

“Jeez, chill out, dude,” Gareth told him, quite frankly a little frightened by Eddie’s outburst.

Eddie gave him an incredulous look. He needed to blow off some steam, and he knew the perfect spot not too far into the woods.

Eddie sat down on the bench of the picnic table, opened his metal lunchbox, and fished out a joint he had rolled the previous night but never smoked. Lighting it up, he brought it to his mouth and inhaled. The high came fairly quick — this stuff was good — and Eddie sat in the clearing until he heard the school bell they always listened to at the end of last period.

Had he really smoked all through the last three periods of the day?

Yeah, he finished the first joint, and had to roll two more before he felt satisfied. But, man, he had really lost track of time. Not to mention he used the pot he had planned on dealing out. Oh well.

Then he remembered. He packed up his drugs and hauled ass out of the woods, across the parking lot, and into the hallways of Hawkins High. He didn’t know which locker it was, so he was looking every which way trying to find what he was looking for.

He had to catch her before she left.

Rising up to stand in his toes, he saw her at one of the last lockers on the right. She was grabbing books from inside, stuffing them into her book bag. He was rushing through the crowd, shoving students out of his way, in an effort to get to her before she went home.

To say the least, y/n was surprised when she saw Eddie. Distressed and out of breath, standing next to her locker.

“Hey,” he said with an awkward smile.

“Hi?” y/n responded. She was a little confused to why he was at her locker.

“So… umm, uh. When are we- uhh, gonna do this? Y’know, study?,” Eddie stuttered, obviously nervous to ask.

“Oh, um, well I’m free tonight if that works for you,” y/n responded in a small voice, almost embarrassed that she was actually his tutor.

“Alright, yeah! I’m free tonight, that works. But, uhh, my uncle is having some buddies over for beers, sooo… can we do it at your place?” Eddie hated himself for asking. He was the one who needed the help, but he was asking her to study at her place? He felt like an asshole.

“Yeah, sure. My place is fine,” y/n told him, soft and quiet.

“A-alright, awesome. That’s great,” Eddie said, chuckling.

But what he didn’t know, was that while he was beating himself up for asking her to study at her place, she was having a mental war. Weighing her options. On one hand, she didn’t want anyone anywhere near where she lived. She didn’t want to reveal what her life was really like. But on the other, he really needed the help. He’d been repeating the same classes for the past three years, and he was desperate to graduate. Of course she said yes. She couldn’t resist his pleas.

With all the courage and dignity she had left, she reached into her locker to grab a piece of paper and tore off the corner. Using her pen, that was running out of ink, she wrote her phone number and address. Then shoved the folded piece of paper into Eddie’s hand.

“That’s my phone and address, be there by 5. If you need anything just call, okay?” y/n said, compromising all privacy in her home life.

With that, she booked it to the exit and out to her car, wanting desperately not to see his reaction to the note she handed him.

Back inside, Eddie was taken aback by her hurried bluntness. But at least he was getting the help, right? Curious to where he would have to take his van after school, he unfolded the piece of torn paper.

Property number 14, Forest Hills Trailer Park

Beige trailer, with a red Chevy Cavalier out front.

260-478-9107

Eddie couldn’t believe his eyes. There was no way in hell she lived in the trailer park. But was she really the type of person to lie like that? Surely not.

“I guess I’ll find out at 5,” Eddie whispered in a hushed breath.

Then he headed to his van, mind clouded with confusion and… fear?

——————————————————————————

!!PLEASE READ!!

author’s note 2.0: gonna make this a series. Turns out I get carried away and end up writing too much. I’ll still write other fics while working on upcoming chapters, but the issue is, I don’t know what to write. So I’m gonna allow requests. I’ll write for quite a few fandoms. So just request something if you would like. I really hope you liked the first part of this series!! Idk when the next chapter will be out bc I’m on vacation, but I’ll try to get it out by Wednesday :))

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #joe quinn #joseph quinn #stranger things #st5 #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie my beloved #eddie the freak munson #eddie x y/n

[pa-stella]

I'm sobbing as I send this but can I get smiling between kisses with kuujyu ;;;;;;; 💜💜 thank you in advance

Wait, why are you sobbing?? Nooo!! I hope this little thing will cheer you up! More laughters than smiles, but I hope it's okay. Summary - Jyushi: *can't accept compliments* Kuko: *that Lady Gaga meme* Title: Addictive Fandom: Hypnosis Mic Pairing: Kuuko/Jyushi Prompt: Smiling in-between kisses

Jyushi’s room was exactly like its resident. A little quirky with many small details inspired by a specific aesthetic. Kuko, who was not used to such rich furnishing, had always been fascinated by the room. Even if there was a giant moon shaped lamp on the wall, the place was relaxing and calm… a good refuge from his everyday routine.

Every time he didn’t want to deal with the tasks given by his father, the young monk would declare that they would continue their training outside the temple and Jyushi would understand in an instant what he meant. They would stop in a nearby conbini to buy a few snacks and go straight to Jyushi’s house. Kuko would never confess it, but it had become basically a habit for him. 

They would usually play video games or watch a movie for the entire afternoon, but that day Jyushi had decided to continue sketching the outfits for his band's next concert, so Kuko busied himself with his manga collection. The small bedroom was silent if not for a visual kei playlist coming from the pc.

“Kuko-san.” Jyushi called him at some point, almost startling him. “I need your opinion.”

“On what?” He asked and got up from the bed to move near the armchair the other was sitting on.

“I’m trying to come up with a cool embroidery design to add on our jackets.” He explained as he showed him his tablet. “ArgoξOrchestra’s new song has a lot of references to the Western zodiac, so my idea was to create a decoration combining each member’s sign constellation… what do you think?”

Kuko looked at the sketch and nodded. Jyushi had recreated the logo of his band by using some of the stars of each constellation. He had to admit it was cool. “It looks great, but I thought you didn’t feel good enough at embroidering to do big projects…”

“Well, as you often say, I won’t get better if I don’t keep practicing…” Jyushi murmured and opened another file on the tablet. “I’ve been working on smaller projects for some time now.”

“Pretty good advice, I gave you!” Kuko chuckled while sitting down on the arm of the chair to look at the other pictures. “You’re already talented, so just imagine what you’ll do when you've mastered the art!”

“Oh.” Jyushi nodded and tried to hide his face a little, but Kuko caught the faint blush that had appeared on his cheeks. The visual kei singer loved compliments, but he still couldn’t handle them if they came from people he really cared about. The monk glanced at the abandoned manga (surveilled by Amanda) on the bed and at the tablet… they had both finished with their own things, so it would be okay to tease Jyushi a litte, right?

“You’re also so creative… look at these designs!” 

Jyushi blushed even more, hiding behind the tablet. “There’s no need to lie now, Kuko-san…”

“Are you calling me a liar?!” He pretended to be offended and took the device from his hands to place it on the nearby shelf. “I’m telling the truth. Talented, inventive, original…”

As Jyushi tried to cover his face with his hands, Kuko grabbed them and forced him to look up. “Kuko-san…”

Seeing him so embarrassed made the monk smile in an affectionate way before he continued with his list. “...unique, humble…”

“That… that has nothing to do with what I create…” The other protested and Kuko rolled his eyes.

“I’m trying to create a mood here.” He whispered. “Dummy…”

“H-Hey!”

Before he could add anything else, Kuko gave him a peck on the nose. “...a little too whiny…” 

At that, Jyushi giggled a little.

“...kind…” He said and moved to leave a kiss on his cheek.

“Kuko…”

“...attractive…” He kissed him on his lips for an instant but, when he moved away, he felt Jyushi grab his jacket and tug. He smiled. “...eager…”

This time Kuko took his time with the kiss and he actually struggled to pull away. “Have I already said attractive?”

Jyushi laughed out loud. “Yes, you have.”

“Mmm… so damn attractive, then…” 

“Don’t tell me you already finished the words to describe me.” His voice was a little deeper now, more similar to the one he used in his narcissistic chuunibyou’s mode. 

“You just made me remember one: cocky.” They both chuckled and shared another brief kiss. Kuko moved to get up and go back to his manga after that, but Jyushi grabbed his hand.

“I wasn’t joking, Kuko-san. G-Go on…” He was blushing again, embarrassed by the request he was making, but a little more confident after Kuko’s words.

“Let me think.” The monk smiled and slowly sat down on Jyushi’s lap. His lips were almost on the other’s when he whispered one last word.

“Addictive.”

#kuko: #talented. brilliant. incredible. showstopping... #writing? in this economy? #hypnosis mic #jyushi aimono #kuko harai #kuujyu #i wanted to write something cuter and in the end it's just about two dorks being in love

[red9]

don't mind ethan grabbing the front of luis' jacket and pressing a kiss to his lips, ahem. don't mind him at all.

              @moldcursed

              It was an unexpected treat, to say the least, for in reality- he never knew what he did to deserve it. Ethan was always difficult to read, never was he entirely sure what he could be thinking at any given time. That naturally silent persona, that hardened façade from years of suffering. So it always came as a surprise, in such brief and fleeting moments- such tenderness, in his own demanding way, the quiet need when he’d take hold of him and draw him in for affection. Never would he flinch, nor would he hesitate, hardly a sound at all as he’d melt into him- that soft, silent, but oh so sweet embrace. A hand would raise, careful to cup his cheek as if he was something so fragile- not flesh or mold, or whatever he deemed himself- but something delicate- a fine work of art to admire and hold. And so he’d do just that, even as Ethan would break away, he’d not let him off the hook so easily. Instead brow would come to meet his own, a soft hum of laughter ringing out from somewhere in the back of his throat before he spoke.

              “Someone is in a mood today. Don’t tell me you missed me that bad..”

#moldcursed #v: main. #them...

[imfluentinfangirlandgay]

Lost in Time... Again - Part 4 [Epilogue]

Last bit and I'm done here, hope ya liked it! I need to stop making multi-chaptered fics right before bed fnjnfjnamdska

original post by @fangirlingpuggle

[Part 1] - [Part 2] - [Part 3] - [Epilogue]

Word Count: ~900

Dawn held up the Azure Flute and blew, bringing a beautiful melody from the instrument. The glowing staircase appeared, which she followed up and up until she met it. Arceus. She approached it, after all these weeks of carrying out the tasks set before her and meeting so many new people.

“Arceus. We are ready to return back home.” Two identical men stood behind her, both watching the God with a similar expression. Arceus bowed its head.

I see. Art thou sure? Once you are sent back, there is no returning. Have you finished all of thy business in this realm?

Dawn looked back at the two. “Will I have all of my memories returned to me? And Uncle Ingo as well?”

I can provide that, if you wish.

“I would. Please.”

Then it is done. Prepare thyselves for the return journey. You will return exactly three weeks after your last disappearance.

Dawn nodded. She ran over and hugged the two men. “I won’t forget you guys.”

“You’re welcome to come visit us, young Dawn. We are right over in Nimbasa City and always willing to take on a strong Trainer.” Ingo and Emmet smiled down at her. She smiled back.

“I’ll take you up on that if you come visit me in Sinnoh sometimes.” They both nodded.

She turned back to Arceus. “Yes. We are ready.” The Sneasel on Ingo’s shoulder squeaked its affirmative.

Thank you, Chosen One. Farewell.

And everything faded into black.

Dawn woke up. She was laying in a bed in a familiar room, a nostalgic feeling that feels an awful lot like one particular day a year ago…

She sat up in her bed, swinging her legs down and out. She was still in her Galaxy Team uniform. She slowly descended the stairs of her house. Something smelled amazing downstairs. “Mom?”

—-------------------------------------------------------------

Ingo and Emmet awoke on their couch. They looked around and then Emmet grinned. He checked his phone, finding over 100 missed calls from Elesa. It was also six am. That was going to be a fun call.

Emmet called her immediately, which picked up on the first ring. He’d made a mistake of putting it on speaker.

“EMMET, WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU. YOU DON’T JUST GIVE ME THE VAGUEST CALL SPOUTING OFF THE DUMBEST SHIT AND THEN DROP OFF THE FACE OF THE PLANET FOR ALMOST A MONTH. I AM COMING OVER RIGHT NOW AND I SWEAR TO ARCEUS WHEN I GET THERE I AM GOING TO BREAK YOU IN HALF WITH MY BARE HANDS-” Emmet flipped the phone, revealing a very disheveled Ingo. Ingo waved at the camera. She stopped, her entire face freezing. She didn’t say anything but Emmet watched her run at top speed, the sky waving in the background. She never hung up.

Within two minutes, there was pounding on the door. Loud pounding. Ingo carefully opened the door, revealing Elesa still in her sweatpants and an old t-shirt, wearing house slippers. She stopped in the door, dull recognition working itself across her face. Then she threw herself at Ingo, wrapping him tightly in her arms. Emmet got within reaching distance and gently maneuvered them out of the doorway to shut the door, causing him to get snagged into the hug.

“You-you both are absolute fucking idiots, you’re both so fucking stupid and and…” She sniffled, burying her face in their tattered jackets, “I missed you guys.”

—-------------------------------------------------

Elesa sat with Ingo and Emmet outside, under the umbrella at the corner cafe. Ingo was telling a story, the Sneasel happily playing with the new hat that Elesa had made for it. It matched the twins’, but it was gray.

“So who did you say we were meeting with?” Elesa asked, sipping her smoothie.

“Uncle Ingo! Uncle Emmet!” A blur shot from down the street, dragging her luggage behind her as she catapulted into the twins. They laughed, hugging her back. Elesa spat out her drink. “I’ve missed you guys! Did you get the Subway reopened? Can we battle sometime? I need you to meet my original team and - oh, hi Sneasel! You’ve gotten so big, look at you-”

“Who?” was all Elesa could grind out in her shocked state.

“Elesa, this is Dawn. She is the girl we met when we were gone. We never did explain the whole story and felt it would be wrong to do it without her. She is the current Champion of Sinnoh and in the time I went missing, we connected, and once Emmet joined, we all shared a familial bond. We see her as a niece now.”

“Uncle Ingo was the only person in Hisui who even kind of acted like me. He was different. We connected so well when everyone else just couldn’t and at one point he saved my life with Emmet. Big time. Though next time it’s your turn to come visit me,” she added, grinning.

“Yes, of course. You should show us around Sinnoh this summer.” Dawn lit up. “In the meantime, let’s explain what happened in Hisui. I think… I think it’s time we told the whole story. Including how I got there.” All four of them settled down in the warm afternoon, sipping their drinks and listening to Ingo’s deep voice take them through the trials and tribulations of a long-forgotten land.

#pokemon legends arceus #submas #warden ingo #subway boss ingo #subway bosses #pokemon ingo #ingo #legends arceus ingo #pokemon arceus #pokemon akari #my writing

[kyberphilosopher]

Fensterln

“I can’t get up. You’re sitting on top of me.”

Warning(s): some allusions to sex, explicit-ish language, fluff, reader has a whole ‘Black Cat’ thing going on. Word Count: 3273

Notes: This is a requested work. This is a headcanoned canon version of Superboy, meaning he is no version in particular and simply the character I figure as a whole. Reader can be any gender.

“Fensterln is when you have to climb through someone’s window in order to have sex with them, without their parents knowing about it.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You know, most people think that climbing up the side of a building is easy. Like it’s nothing. They see it on TV, and in the movies, and in cartoons even, and they think, “That doesn’t look so bad!” because it doesn’t. Cartoons and actors don’t have to deal with the wind whipping their hair, constantly pushing their whole body all around, the butterflies of anxiousness making their heart thump, threatening the scenario of falling to their death. It’s terrifying. It takes a lot of skill, a lot of courage, and a lot of luck. 

“Shit.”

Your right hand releases from the glass, arm slowly swinging back until it’s at your side. The same sides foot follows this pattern of rotation, until only your left fingertips and toes are stuck to the wall of the building, suctioning you to life. Below you, hundreds and hundreds of feet, is an island of grass and sand, encompassed by a large body of water. Over the tidal waves chip chopping away, there’s a distance. And in that distance, is the city, just under the inky blackness of the midnight sky. 

Jump City, it’s called. You’re not too familiar with it. Most of your time is spent in Metropolis, or Gotham. Luckily, both of those cities have plenty of skyscrapers to practice scaling. One could say that you’d perfected the art of this sort of thing. The finger pads on your suit are sophisticatedly sticky, seamlessly letting you latch onto anything with grace. Your feet are the same. 

The wind hits your face like sharp needles, amplified by the cold air and the incline. Your hair whips around wildly, also different from how it flows, softly, in the movies. The harsh breeze roars in your ears, louder than the thousands of explosions you’ve heard in your lifetime. Although dangerous, nothing beats the view. Those thousands of lights in the distance, the cars, the buildings, this building that you’re on now. Titan’s Tower is far larger and closer and more important than anything else at the moment. 

“Okay then,” you mutter, twisting your body over to the right twice more, until finally both hands and feet are connecting against the glass in a stealthy, perfect crawling position. 

You work your way up, one foot and hand at the time. You resemble that of a spider, or perhaps a cat. One, two. One, two. 

His room is on one of the top floors, if not the top floor. From the two other times that you’ve done this, you remember the number of steps, the distance, the little cracks in the glass panes to look for so you know you’re close. Even from the outside, hundreds of feet up, hanging above death tantalizingly, you know exactly where you are and where you need to be. And you know, of course, that you are close. 

Your right hand leaves the wall once more and reaches down to the belt on your hips. “Coming, my love,” you mutter as you flip open a small pouch attached. From the inside you pull out a slim switchblade, made specifically to cut through glass walls like this- designed it yourself. 

The knife springs open. In a circle big enough to fit your entire body, you trace the blade in a wide arc from up to down, left to right. Then you flip the blade back inside, place the whole thing back into the pouch on the belt, and shove your left elbow against the middle of the glass in front of you. 

It pops free immediately. The circle of wall falls forward into the room, with you not far behind.

Landing like a gymnast on your toes with your arms overhead, you are immune to the sharp pain in your femurs that comes from a sudden pressure like this. The glass pane is still intact on the floor ahead of you, which is coated with a red carpet that you recognize so well. It’s much warmer inside than it was outside, although you can still feel the night wind from behind you.

“Silent,” a voice remarks from beside you. It’s not an amused tone, really. It’s genuine and full of awe, surrounded by something casual. 

You hum as you stand before throwing a look over your shoulder. Sure enough at your back, splayed casually on a bed against the wall you just broke through, is your favorite boy toy. Dark, curly hair framing his classically handsome face, nose scrunching slightly on instinct. He’s wearing the black and red super shirt he always does, coupled with the plaid pajama bottoms you’d gotten him as a gift in spring.

You want so badly to quip something back, but you both know you can’t right now. Not when you’re so close to the door. And yeah, that’s partially Conner’s fault, if not all. Too much noise would attract the attention of his team mates, the Titans, and then something probably not that great would happen. Maybe they’d throw you out. Maybe they’d fire him. Maybe things would just get weird. It’s not as if you and Connor are an official couple, even after all this time. You could stop sneaking around to see each other at any sense of danger.

You take a step towards the bed he lays on, noting the big, bright smile that lights up Superboy’s face at the motion. “Can you fix the hole?” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear.

Conner’s eyes go wide and the smile gets bigger.

“In the wall.”

The smile turns into an eye roll. “Yes,” he sighs, almost dramatically, pushing himself up. The boy crosses to the center of the room a few feet from you and begins picking up the perfect circle of cut window- wall while you look around the area.

You’ve snuck into Conner’s room before. Twice, in fact. It’s not clean, not horribly messy. His leather jacket is usually hanging off the dresser or door handle. Sweatshirts of different colors are littering the floor in a collective pile. It looks like a normal teenage boys room, really. It just feels very ‘Conner’.

First, he pushes the glass back into place in the wall, then he takes a few steps back. You throw him a smirk, nudging your head to encourage him to do the thing.

Conner’s eyes heat up. Little at first, as a soft yellow. Then into an all consuming scarlet that hisses out in two beams meeting in the middle between them. They move in a circle around the pane until you can’t even tell it was ever not there, and the wind you once heard no longer exists. The wall is perfectly in tact.

“Thank you, Superboy,” you tell him, tone laced overly sweet. Your hands, freezing from the cold even through the gloves of your costume, wrap around Conner’s upper arm.

“Yeah,” he tosses, back, voice low. His cheeks are turning pink.

You unhook your arms and saunter over to his mattress. As you throw yourself on and relax as you sink into the pillows, you let your eyes close. “You’re lucky I like you so much,” you tease. “Mm, do you know a lot of people who would climb up the Tower for you? I don’t.”

Upon hearing him take a single step forward, one eye pops open. “I know you missed me,” you continue.

Conner lays himself on the bed beside you, hands behind his bed with his arms bent. You turn to face him, propping your head up with your palm.

“You never answer my texts,” Conner says, Adam’s apple bobbing.

“You text me?” you smirk, watching Superboys eyes sink close as he releases a sigh of defeat.

Your left leg slips over Conner’s hips. Then you pull your whole body up and over into a straddle over him, looking down at him. He’s handsome in the way nobody can argue with, so perfect and soft and structured. When you squint, he looks like Superman. But Conner’s not Superman, he’s better. You can’t explain why, or how, but he just is.

You place your palms forward on his chest at first, then backwards, behind your back, on Conner’s thighs. Your chest puffs out at the slight change of position.

Below you, the boy bites his lower lip softly in thought for a second. “What if I got you a phone?” Conner asks you. His light eyes holding yours through thick, dark lashes. “Just so you can text me back sometimes?”

“Us?” you gasp with wide eyes. “Talking? During the daytime?”

Conner glances away. “Message received. Very funny. Forget it.”

“I’m messing with you,” you promise with a smile. “Loosen up Super-Annoy.”

“So you’ll let me get you one?” Conner pushes himself up with a snap, eyes wide with some kind of excitement.

Well… would you? You haven’t had a lot of long term partners, if any. Your time with Conner has been the longest with anyone, and he’s not even really your boyfriend. He’s just… you know… the guy you kissed on a rooftop one night. The guy who once surprised you with a cone of ice cream, again on a night time rooftop, whilst you were sitting on the side of the building to watch the city below. The guy who remembered your birthday, the guy who keeps sending you the many, many texts reminding you that you can watch your favorite show on the TV in the tower. The guy who once lied to get you to ice skate with him.

Something about Conner has been enough to keep you hooked for months and months, always coming back. Sneaking into the Tower, taking more and more trips to Jump City, keeping notes of events throughout your week to tell him about when you see him. 

How silly. Never giving the time of day to any other partner of yours, but for Conner? Conner has gotten at least eight months of it. 

“I’ll think about it,” you roll your eyes. 

“You promise?” Conner urges. 

“Yes. Jeez, I promise. I will think about letting you get me a phone that only you have the number to.”

“Please don’t laugh at me about this.”

“I’m not laughing at you.”

“It feels like it.”

“Connor,” you clasp a hand on his shoulder, pushing back laughter. “Have I ever laughed at you?”

“W- Is that- is that a serious question?” Conner’s eyebrows raise. 

“Get up,” you roll your neck. “I want to change positions.”

The boy below you shifts. For a quick moment, something pokes between your hips from underneath. Your pupils dilate in response, but by the time they finish, the movement has ceased. “Tell me about your day.”

“I want to lay down,” you say as you stretch. “I just scaled up the side of the skyscraper-”

“You love it.”

“-and it was oh, so cold. I’m tired.”

“That’s not your day.”

You just stare at him expectantly, not quite sure what it is you’re waiting for. 

“I can’t get up. You’re sitting on top of me,” Conner concedes. “You chose to be up there.”

“Prove it,” you challenge.

“Yeah, yeah,” the boy below you hisses as if annoyed. “I get it,” he says, but his arms are already snaking around your torso to pull you close and slowly pull you into a new position. 

You lay on your side, back against Conner’s broad chest. His arms stay wrapped around your middle as he curls up against you on instinct, legs quick to tangle with your own. You know he must really be interested in you if he’s not going to mention that your ‘work’ shoes are still on while in bed. 

“You’re an ass,” he mutters into your hair. 

“What was that?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Ha,” you chuckle once. “Douche.”

“Please tell me about your day now?” you hear Conner almost plead. “Please?”

One of your hands, your right one, rests on top of Conner’s against your stomach. “Oh, you know. The usual. I helped out a small jewelry store today, snuck into a big building, currently hiding from Nightwing- you know how it is.”

“There wasn’t much crime today. I mostly just stayed in. You know that big building you snuck into?”

“Such a douche,” you breathe.

“Jealous much?” Superboy rumbles against your ear. 

“I’m gonna tell Dick,” you tell him. “I’ll send an anonymous tip that one of the Titan’s is a big poop face.”

Conner puts his whole face in your hair. “Shiver me timbers.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s not fair you guys get a whole building to yourselves. What are you even using half these floors for? People in Gotham are struggling.” You frown. “Well, except for Wayne. But you know what? He’s a douche too. You’d get along.”

Conner squeezes you once. Then you feel him still from behind you, not even breathing. And then-

“Move in then.”

At once, your brows furrow. “What?”

Your companion squeezes you once more. “Move in. Move in with me. In the Tower.”

Your mouth opens and closes a couple times, eyes looking around. You can’t see Conner, but you can feel him out. His eyes are closed, still inhaling the scent of you shamelessly. It’s hard for people to catch you off guard, not just like this, but at all. You just have that sarcastic, witty, sultry reputation. And for him- Super-Annoy, of all people- to just throw you off so easily?

“I’m not a Titan,” you decide on explaining, almost asking. 

“Become one, then.”

“I don’t have the money to move in. The rent must be crazy.”

“I’ll pay for you.”

“Conner,” you swallow. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not joking.” His head pops up. When you turn yours a little, you can look up at him, and he can look down at you. “Move into the Tower.”

Now your eyes are wide, and his are relaxed. No, Conner’s are focused, drilling into your own. “I’m... hardly Titan’s material.”

This was true. You’ve been skirting the gray line far longer than you’ve known Superboy, and he’s been super since the beginning of his creation. The first time you’d met was about ten seconds before you’d robbed a bank and sent him a wink before disappearing. 

“You just told me, not five minutes ago, that you helped a small business. Helping people is what heroes are all about. You can do this, Y/N. You are Titan’s material.”

Shit. He’s right. 

“Why not?” Conner questions. 

“I... um...”

You’ve never lived with another person before. Your family, once upon a time, sure. Not friends. Not Dick Grayson, or Kori, or Rachel fucking Roth. And certainly not Superboy- Super-Annoy. Not someone you have a ‘thing’ with. What would that mean for the two of you? And when things go terribly, terribly wrong, what then?

Gotta’ think fast. 

Your face is wiped clean, replaced by your signature smirk. “Get me a phone first. Then I’ll consider it.”

Conner doesn’t budge though. You wonder if X-Ray vision can see through lies too. “I mean it,” the boy tells you. “I want you here.”

“I have to survive the night in the building with boy prodigy and star flame.”

“Starfire.”

“Whatever. I have to do that first. There’s a reason we sneak me in, you know.”

Your free hand reaches up and cups Conner’s cheek without you telling it to. You ask your brain why, but yet, your palm doesn’t move. It feels over Conner’s cheekbones, encouraging you to look deeper into his somehow soft eyes. Your fingertips can even feel his hair, which is in need of a wash, as they get comfortable. 

“For you,” you finish the sentiment, voice now genuine- also not predicted. “Sneaking in for you.”

“I don’t want you to feel like a secret,” the boy above you whispers, pouring his entire heart into it. 

You answer with a snort. 

If anything, Conner’s the secret. If he had his way, the two of you would probably be on your honeymoon at this moment. Hell, your whole relationship and subsequent marriage would be a honeymoon. You’re the one letting him follow you around. You’re the one never giving him just what he wants. 

But then again, you’re the one who keeps coming back. Conner’s the one that never left. 

“Trust me,” you nod with a humored grin. “I don’t.”

Conner sighs and falls back down to rest behind  you. “Good.”

Besides his breathing, then there is silence. 

Really? Telling you to move in? Of course it doesn’t seem like such a big deal to him. Of course he has the solution to all the reasons why not. Your fairly certain that Conner hasn’t thought about this until mentioning it, but even then, how did he have all the answers so fast? Where would you stay? With him? Sandwiched between Conner and Wally West playing video games for the rest of your life? Dying after Donna Troy catches you accidentally stealing her lunch?

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Conner begins, “but you should really stay the night.”

In response, you practically burst. “You hate being told what to do!” you say as you squirm in his arms. “Now you’re giving me suggestions?”

Conner sits up again so he can look down at you with a little frown. Luckily, it’s too nice of a view to be really scared of anything he could do. “Shh! You’re gonna get caught, Y/N.” Then Superboy’s eyes widen a little. “If you lived here, you wouldn’t have to be so quiet, either. You could just come through the front door.”

“Oh my God,” you squeeze your eyes closed. “Conner...”

One battle at a time. 

“Fine,” you begrudge. “I’ll stay the night.”

Conner tightens his grip around your form happily in response. “Will you need any help in the morning?”

“No. No, I got it.”

Silence. 

Say it. Say it. Say it. 

“Conner? I, uh...”

Say it. 

“I don’t have any sleeping clothes,” you lie. 

“Sleeping?” you hear the boy behind you whisper. “I didn’t think we were going to be sleeping.”

“Now who’s going to get us in trouble?” you smirk. “Seriously though. I’ve been wearing my suit all day.”

“I can get you out of it.”

“You can’t just see through it?” you question. “Don’t you have X-Ray vision?”

Conner groans. “You’re ruining it.”

You smile. Conner’s the only partner of yours you realize you’re actually happy to be around. “I think you just want us to get caught.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Yayyy. Request finished. Next I have a Reverse Flash request, and then I should be good with the DC requests for now. Other than that I have some Jason Todd things, something for Damian and 2 fics for a character I haven’t written for before but are looking pretty good. I hope this satisfied the prompt that I was given in the request. Let me know anything you want or whatever. 

#superboy x reader #superboy imagine #superboy imagines #conner Kent x reader #connor Kent x reader #connor Kent imagine #connor Kent imagines #conner kent imagine #conner Kent imagines #fluff #x reader #superboy fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #superboy fanfic #superboy fic #connor Kent fanfiction #conner Kent fanfiction #dc comics x reader #dc comics fanfiction #connor Kent fluff #superboy fluff #Titans x reader #Titans fanfiction #Titans fanfic #connor kent #conner kent #superboy smut #connor kent smut

[harryspet]

cement walls | bucky barnes

[Warnings] dark!bucky barnes x reader, non/dubcon sex, fingering, kidnapping, forced pregnancy, confined spaces, Stockholm syndrome(?), post-blip bucky, bucky needs some therapy, forced gender roles

[A/N] uhm so this is what i’ve been working on and like usual i have no idea where i wanna take it :):) i haven’t posted in a long while so i figured i would put this out there for some feedback! this is pretty much inspired by Room if you’ve seen that movie. [gif credit to https://jamesbrnes.tumblr.com/]

In which the outside world is too dangerous for you and Bucky is the only one who can protect you. 

taglist: @cherienymphe @lovelynerdytraveler @buckysbunny @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @what-is-your-wish @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mischiefmanaged011 @visintaes  @watercoolerpaint @disaster-rose @slutforsebstan​ @doozywoozy​

main masterlist

word count: 3.3k

Within the cement walls that surrounded your home, you imagined that you had your own little planet. You spent hours of your days thinking about what surrounded you, if there were floating rings like Saturn had, the constellations you could make out only if you could only see the entire sky, and how the sun would really feel on your bare skin. You were beginning to forget what that felt like and you sat below the skylight trying to reach into your mind and remember.

Maybe you should be grateful that there was even a skylight at all and that there was enough room for a small kitchen and bathroom. You imagined that's what he thought. You could move around freely with no chains so you should be grateful. Almost three-hundred square feet of your new planet that you should be glad to have. Except you didn’t even own the ground you stood on, this planet wasn’t really yours, you were just an astronaut trapped in space. 

That morning, you scrubbed the floors, not only because the military man preferred organization but also because the small space got dirty quickly. After taking your vitamins, extra Vitamin D of course, and munching on a stale granola bar, you got to work. You made the twin bed up, making sure the sheets were tucked in tightly before organizing the small amount of clothes in the wardrobe. 

When you heard the beeping of the keypad outside the door, you stood up, shutting the wardrobe. You weren’t expecting him, not having gotten to the kitchen yet, but alas your moon man appeared. You couldn’t help it, you always looked past him to see what you could have of the outside world. You saw nothing, his figure was only surrounded in darkness as he shut it quickly, and it beeped as the metal door locked again. 

It was like he liked the idea of you not knowing where you were. He’d brought you into this room unconscious so you had no idea whether you were still in Louisiana or not. For all you knew, you could be floating in space and it wouldn’t matter. 

The tall man’s hair was cut short, like he’d just gotten a haircut, and you hated that the room was already beginning to smell like his cologne. He held a brown bag of what you assumed were groceries, “You haven’t been here in more than two weeks. I’ve been cleaning my clothes in the sink. I started rationing food t-thinking you weren’t going to come back.”

He set the bag down on the small kitchen table and you watched his eyes roam over the dirty dishes, “I wouldn’t leave you here, doll face,” Bucky assured you, “C’mere.” He waved you over and you stepped forward cautiously. 

“W-Where did you go?”

He reached up to hold your face, the leather brushing against your cheeks as he looked you over. You wore a green smock dress with a cardigan tightly over you, the box having been cold the past few days, “I had business. Far away business.”

“You’ve never been gone this long.”

“Did you miss me that much?” You wanted to roll your eyes. If Bucky didn’t come back, you’d die in probably the worst way possible and no one would know what happened to you, “I brought you back plenty of groceries, I even got you some oreos and that fancy bread you like.”

“Bucky …. I-I was so so scared. You don’t understand-” He leaned down to kiss you and when your lips didn’t move against his, he grabbed you roughly by your hair. You held in your yelp as you forced your lips to move against his. He held your hips, deepening the kiss and when he pulled away, his hands were still in your hair. 

“I’m here now, “ He looked at you sharply, tugging your hair a bit, “But it seems you can’t keep the kitchen clean, no matter how much time I give you.”

“I’m sorry,” You apologized, the words slipping out before you could even register them. 

He gestured his head over to the sink, “Get to it. And the groceries as well.” 

You moved past him, turning on the warm water before grabbing a sponge. You felt his eyes on your back as you began to clean all the pots and pans you’d been using. You heard the rattling of his belt, his jeans being pulled down, the sound of his boots being stacked to the side, and the grunt he let out when he tossed his jacket over the kitchen chair. 

When you placed everything in the drying rack, you moved onto the bag of groceries. He had gotten the bread you liked so you had something to look forward to that week, “I had to see that lady again.”

“You mean your therapist?”

“It’s court mandated bullshit,” You looked over and he was examining your desk and bookshelf. All the books you had were given to you by him and all the decorations were paper origami that you’d gotten good at making. 

“What did you guys talk about?” You asked hesitantly, putting things away in the cabinet. 

“She thinks I need more friends, more social interactions I suppose but that’s what she says every week,” You heard your bed creak as he sat down, “Hey, make me a cup of coffee, doll.”

“Oh,” It was clear that whatever that therapist was doing, wasn’t work, the biggest piece of evidence being the girl he was holding captive right now. You moved over to the coffee pot, pouring what was left into his favorite mug, “Do you … ever talk about me?”

You could feel his body stiffen even from across the room. 

“Why would I?” When you turned around, his eyebrows were furrowed, his hands on his knees. 

You crossed the small room with the cup in hand, “Well, you interact with me. I’m like your friend, right?” You handed him the drink, standing back as you watched him take a sip, hoping he’d be satisfied with it. 

“You know why I can’t tell her about you, Y/N.”

You shook your head, “Yeah, I was just thinking … “ You sat down a few feet away from him, “Does anyone else know about me?”

“You’re curious today.”

“It’s not like I have much entertainment in here,” You said a little more snarky than you intended. You felt his mechanical arm push into the mattress beside you as he turned his head, “Sorry … when do you think I’ll get to leave the room? Not outside, just out of the room. Maybe to where you sleep at night.”

“If you’re going to be like this today-”

“Forget I said anything,” You smiled weakly, “Please.”

Bucky set down his cup on the small nightstand before he urged you closer. You scooted closer and he gently pushed your head down until it was resting in his lap. You felt his cold hand through your sweater and the other through your hair, “I know what it’s like … feeling trapped,” You pulled your feet onto the bed and he continued to stroke your hair and you welcomed the comforting touch. 

“Then why …”

He shushed you, “Mind over matter, Y/N. It’s all about training your mind to adjust. You’re safer here, you’re taken care of here, and your mind is still trying to convince you that you don’t belong here.”

“I wouldn’t try to escape if I could just stay with you…”

He shushed you again, “I spent decades frozen and then, after that, I was trapped in my own mind. Now everyone’s trying to convince me that I have this new chance to survive in the world. They genuinely think of this new century as being so amazing, so much technology, and opportunities but it’s a lie, Y/N. This world is nothing but danger and death. You’re much better without it.”

You felt a tear roll down your cheeks. You felt like the chains around you were only getting heavier. He was so delusional that you thought it would be easier to start believing him, “Please don’t leave for that long again.”

Bucky sighed, “I’ll stay here for the night. How does that sound?”

You hiccuped, “T-Thank you.”

Later that night, you were lying beside bucky in the small bed. He was fast asleep but you were wide awake, looking up at the skylight. The full moon was lighting up the room. Carefully, you tossed your feet over the bed, doing your best not to disturb the soldier. You got onto the floor, crawling towards the carpet in the middle of the room. Oftentimes, when you couldn’t sleep, you’d lay down and stare up at the moon. 

You stayed like that for lord knows how long, drifting into a place where all your thoughts were silent. 

“What are you doing?” You sat up quickly, your heart racing as his gruff voice snapped you from your trance. 

He was shirtless, standing above you, and rubbing his tired eyes. You simply pointed up, “The moon.”

“Get back in bed,” He commanded groggily. 

You scooted over slightly, “I can’t sleep ... just come look with me. It’s beautiful.”

“You act like you’ve never seen the fucking moon before, Y/N,” His frustration caught you off guard as he reached down to grab you by your arm. You didn’t mean to but, on instinct, you flinched away. That only led him to grabbing your harder, and you stumbled as he pulled you up, “Get in the bed. You scare me to death when I wake up and can’t feel you.”

“If you care so much then why do you leave me in here for weeks on end.”

His eyes flickered with hurt for a moment, “I won’t … ever again. You need far too much discipline for me to let you be on your own for so long.” You rolled your eyes as you turned away, walking towards the bed. 

He grabbed you roughly by your waist, pushing you onto the bed. He pushed you further into the mattress, his hand on the back on your neck, and you were reminded just how cruel he could be. There was a point months ago when you stopped fighting it, knowing in the end he would overpower you, but sometimes your spark appeared. 

He lifted your nightgown easily, knowing he wouldn’t find any underwear to tear off, and his hand cupped between your legs. As you struggled beneath him, he felt you, rubbing and running his fingers over your lips, “Me being deep inside you seems to correct your mood. Is that what you need from me, doll face?”

Your spark appeared and went quickly, knowing he could feel your wetness, giving him the permission to sink two of fingers inside you. He moved slow, his knees pressed deep into the bed, as he watched your lips part with a gasp. 

“That’s it …”

This was his favorite, knowing he could get you off with just his fingers, his fingers curling against your most sensitive areas. He fastened his pace, pushing in and out of you as you lay there bent over. Knowing you were nearing an orgasm you were sure not to run away from, he moved his vibranium arm from your neck and underneath you where he stimulated your sensitive bud. 

“That’s my girl,” He coaxed you as he sent you into a shaking fit, “You finish so well on my fingers, so beautifully.” You came hard, Bucky enjoying the vulnerable view of your face. As he let you go, you pushed down your gown and laid down on your side. The bed dipped as he took a seat, rubbing your thighs as the post-orgasm regret filled you. 

“You ever think you have some control over me, I want you to remember this.”

8 months later … 

You flipped through the channels six channels that the old television would provide. The soldier thought buying you one would decrease your book intake which he was struggling to keep up with as you read several per week. He wasn’t a fan of technology but the two of you had a long argument about it and he eventually caved. 

You weren’t sure if he knew but the TV picked up a local news channel and you got a glimpse into what the world had been like over the past year. Every now and then, there’d be a mention of Sam Wilson and you figured that’s who he was disappearing with when he was gone for weeks at a time. 

As you neared closer and closer to your due date, he’d grown nicer than usual, though the way he’d gotten you pregnant wasn’t pleasant at all. “You complain so much about being lonely.” He had said when you’d missed your period, “This is what you wanted, right?” 

You weren’t sure if you were just nauseous from the pregnancy or if the idea of raising a baby in that room was making you sick to your stomach. Sometimes you caught yourself being selfish, thinking about having someone to take care of and take up your time. Having someone who could love you properly, in a way that Bucky didn’t quite understand. 

“How’s my girl? And how’s my mini me?” Bucky was an abnormally good move when he came down to visit you that night. He was carrying magazines in his hand and you crossed the room, curious to see the details, “I thought you might want to look at nursery stuff.”

“There’s gonna be a nursery,” Your lips pulled into a smile, “Where?”

“Here,” He gestured around and your smile fell, “You can’t be too far from the little tike. I was thinking we could put the crib where your desk is.”

You took the magazines from him, resting them on your protruding stomach, “Oh …” You tried not to sound sad, “You don’t think that maybe the space is too small? I mean, a mom and baby and sometimes you, that’s a lot of people for one room. And when they get older ….” You imagined having a happy little baby but you tried not to think about your child growing up in a box. 

“When he gets older, we’ll think about it then,” He stated, already gendering the baby without any actual knowledge. He refused to let you see a doctor, only brought you prenatal vitamins, expecting that you’d have a smooth delivery right here in the room, “For now, it’s plenty of room.”

You nodded, “When he gets older, will you take him outside the room? Kids need space to play and get fresh air.”

“I’ll think about it, Y/N,” Bucky’s lips pressed into a thin line. 

You didn’t want to push the issue further, not wanting to spoil his mood, “I think a light green will be a good, neutral color for everything. Maybe we can decorate his side of the room.”

He smiled, “Whatever you’d like, doll face.”

You crossed the room, setting the magazines down on your desk, and a scary idea crossed your mind. A scary idea and chance you might just have to take if it meant you could get help. You were getting nowhere screaming at the top of your lungs, hoping for someone to hear you, and asking Bucky over and over again just to let you have fresh air. He was suffocatingly protective and that didn’t seem like it was gonna change. You couldn’t let him do that to your child. 

You made dinner and he slept over that night, his vibranium hand holding your waist the entire night. 

You planned to catch him off guard the next morning, figuring you’d have the best chance of causing a panic while he was still tired. You got up, whispering that you had to use the restroom, and you slipped inside the room. You read somewhere that only a fourth cup of water comes out when your water breaks, so you fill a cup before drenching your underwear, legs and the bathroom floor. 

“Bucky!” You shouted, making sure you looked scared in the mirror, “Bucky!”

The door almost flew off its hinges as the soldier went into full alert. His eyes were wide, examining you, “What-What happened?”

“I-I think my water broke,” A tear slipped down your cheek. 

“It’s too early,” He shook his head, running his fingers through his hair, “A-Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. All the books say it's a gushing feeling and that was definitely gushing.”

“Maybe we should wait … we can wait and see if contractions start-”

You shook your head furiously, cautiously stepping forward, “We have to see a Doctor. W-We have to … contractions are supposed to start before my water breaks a-and I’m only 29 weeks. I can’t have the baby naturally.”

“But-”

“We have to! Please, Bucky, a-all I care about is the baby. Please, I don’t want to lose them. Please don’t make me-”

“Okay, okay,” He nodded, grabbing your face as he wiped your tears, “Uhm …. let's get dressed. There’s a thirty minute drive to the hospital,” You nodded and his eyes narrowed at you, “This is for the baby, remember that. You pull anything and-”

“I know,” You placed your hand over your stomach, pulling away from his grasp. 

Your body was heavy when he led you out of that room. You felt your reality shifting as you entered the world again. What surprised you most was how normal the rest of the home was, not particularly homey, but it was nice and spacious. There was even a full front yard and, sadly, you imagined the happy family that could have lived here. You half-expected him to have a wife and kids that he was hiding you from. 

Now, sitting in the hospital bed, you watched him paced around, not paying attention to what the Doctor was saying. 

“So she’s not in labor? She felt her water breaking.”

“No, Sir. Based on the ultrasound, the amniotic fluid levels are normal. I’m not sure what happened, could be a multitude of things, but it was most likely a false alarm. But don’t worry, it happens all the time. And your baby looks very healthy.”

You opened your mouth to say something but Bucky’s eyes narrowed at you, a warning. 

“Okay, thank you, Doc.”

“Do you two have a primary obstetrician? One isn’t listed-”

“Are we free to leave?”

The Doctor took another look at you, as if he was trying to understand our relationship, but if he noticed anything, he didn’t say it, “Yes, you’re free to go. I would just make sure to keep a sharp eye out and give your obstetrician a call if you have a question-”

“Of course, thanks, Doc,” Bucky nodded as he forced a smile. With his dark jacket and black gloves, it was hard for him not to look intimidating. 

The Doctor looked down at you with a warm smile, “Let me know if you need anything, ma’am.”

Say something. 

Say something. 

If you were going to say something, this would be the time. Why did Bucky have such a hold on you even outside of the room?

As soon as the Doctor left the room, Bucky turned away, frustratedly packing up your bag, “Get up, get dressed, let’s go.”

“Bucky, I really did think-”

“If you don’t want someone in this hospital to get hurt, I’d get dressed and keep your mouth shut.”

You moved your legs to the side, real tears beginning to fall down your face, as you struggled to get your dress on. Bucky noticed your sniffling from the corner of his eye. He moved towards you, kneeling down beside the bed, “Hey, I’m sorry …. I’m just stressed out. I don’t like you being here ... but everything is going to be okay. Our baby is perfectly healthy and we’ll be home soon. There will be no more interruptions after this.”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to nod in agreement knowing that your own opinion didn’t matter. Bucky was god, enforcing his will on you, and claiming he knew best. You felt so small in comparison to him but there had to be something left within you that could keep fighting, that could keep you from going willingly back into that room-

“Y/N?”

You perked up, “Yes?”

“C’mon doll face, let’s go home.”

hope you enjoyed! not sure where i want to take this so feedback will be much appreciated!

#dark fic #dark fics #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky x you #dark!bucky smut #stockholm syndrome #bucky barnes x black!reader #dark!bucky

[absolutepokemontrash]

Kid!MC/Teen!MC Needs someone to go to Parent Teacher Interviews for Them and Guess Who’s Available?

Masterlist

The brothers being bad babysitters/dad figures is something I love very much, I bet you all could already tell that considering the Fic/Headcanon series I have going on. I would just like you all to know that Asmo’s section is based on a true story. Anyhoo~ onto the Headcanons!

Why? Why Him? (Lucifer)

Is MC really dumb, or are they just a kid? No one knows.

Obviously MC asked Lucifer, the only competent one in the house, the most professional, hard-working, controlled-

MC got their things together and gave Lucifer the run down on their teacher(s) before Lucifer got too absorbed in extolling his own virtues in an intense internal monologue.

News flash Lucifer, this isn’t a Shakespeare play, you can’t have a dramatic monologue or soliloquy about how great you think you are

At the actual meeting, if MC is in there, no, MC is not actually in there. Lucifer will speak to the teacher as if MC isn’t there. As someone whose not a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down kind of person, Lucifer expects the teacher to behave the same and not spare MC’s feelings.

Feelings do not deserve to be spared if MC is being a nuisance. No fake-kid/little sibling of his gets to be the class idiot!

If MC’s doing very well academically, he expects to be pointed at projects or tests they’ve done and the grade on it. It really makes him proud to see MC doing well.

Even if they’re not the best academically, if they’re not failing and they’re doing well in other aspects of school, he’s proud.

If MC really struggles in a school environment and just hates it there but they’re still keeping their head above water, they get a head pat of approval.

On the drive home, if MC came with him to the parent teacher interviews and everything went well, he just happens to turn onto the street that has a Baskin Robin’s or something of that caliber.

If they didn’t go, he picks something up on the way back.

No fun treats if MC is being a disruptive little heathen in class, no kid under Lucifer’s care is going to be the class Mammon. Not on his watch.

MC was busily stuffed their face with the treats that were gifted to them. Lucifer had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes at the kid’s blatant disregard for basic table manners when it came to sweets.

“Is everything the teacher said true?” Lucifer asked, MC looked up at him with a smile.

“Yep!”

“Good, good.” Lucifer held out his hand and patted them on the head. “You’re doing well. Keep it up.”

“Geez,” MC mumbled as they continued to stuff their face. “Can you get anymore affectionate?”

“Don’t be sarcastic, MC. It’s uncouth.” Lucifer said sternly. “Besides, I’ll have you know that many people enjoy my headpats. I’m quite affectionate.”

“Really now? Name one person.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He and MC stared each other down, one pair of eyes much more nervous than the other. Spoiler, MC was still calmly eating their treat as they maintained eye contact.

“…Cerberus.”

“If you’re reaching for Cerberus, you’ve already lost.”

…his pride was under attack. Right in front of his desert…

“You’re grounded.”

“Worth it.”

*Rides by on a Skateboard* School is for NERDS (Mammon)

Pff! Stupid human! He’s not goin’ to some lame parent teacher conference-

Wait! What’s with that face?! Ugh… fine. MC’s gone and forced his hand with those damn puppy dog eyes…

Mammon does not dress up for this event, he dresses like he would every day, maybe throw on some designer stuff to let all the parents and teachers know he’s hot shit.

If MC goes with him, he pulls up in his beloved car and takes up two parking spaces (pure evil.). Every parent present already hates him, but at least the other kids there are impressed with MC’s sweet ride. MC would have gained some street cred if Mammon hadn’t managed to trip up the stairs to the classroom in front of everyone.

He’ll act way to casual with the teacher, turning the parent chair backwards and sitting down so he can lean on the seat.

Mammon gets bored crazy quickly while the teacher lists and explains all the stuff the class is learning, so his eyes begin to wander to any and all displays in the classroom. Projects, annoying posters, class pet, anything is more interesting than this teacher’s explanation.

When MC finally becomes the main topic of the interview, he’s all ears. MC’s doing great in school academically? Ha! Nerd! Maybe giving MC a playful noogie and interrupting the whole interview wasn’t a good idea, but whatever.

If MC’s failing anything, or just isn’t that gifted when it comes to grades, it’s very much a “Aw man me too” from Mammon.

This teacher is speaking with the Great Mammon, the first demon in RAD’s history to fail three semesters in a row. If this teacher thinks bad grades will phase him, they’re dead wrong.

Grades don’t mean anythin’ about smarts anyway! I mean, look at him! He’s a fuckin’ genius but he can’t get through a history test without sobbing even though he LIVED THROUGH MOST OF IT.

MC gets treats no matter what’s up in class. Though, if MC didn’t go with him, he’s likely to forget and just order something for the two of them when he gets back home.

“Goddamn teachers and their rambling!” Mammon whined, grabbing a slice of pizza from the open box on his coffee table. “You owe me, MC! Ya really do!”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” MC said, they leaned over and rolled a pizza slice into a pizza-scroll then proceeded to eat it like a veggie roll. “How do you think I feel, listening to them every day? You know how long it takes to get to the actual class material?”

“Five years?”

“Ugh! Five years if I’m lucky! I swear, I know more about my teacher’s grievances with like… five of my classmates than I do about trigonometry, and guess which one’s on the test next week?”

Mammon winced in sympathy, then remembered he was supposed to be whining and went back to it. “School’s shit and a waste of money, ya should drop out as soon as you can and help me run my new business.”

“You mean your pyramid scheme?”

“It’s not a pyramid scheme, MC! It’s legit! It’s a multi-tiered marketing-”

“It’s a pyramid scheme.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SOCIAL INTERACTION (Leviathan)

Everyone else must have been sick or something for MC to have asked Levi. He’d flat out refuse to go otherwise.

So, Levi couldn’t exactly go to the interview in his usual “I haven’t left my room or changed clothes in eight weeks” look. With the help of MC, he was able to find his military uniform at the back of his closet.

Asmo nearly fainted when he saw Levi in the uniform, not because “oooo, a man in uniform~”, it was because the outfit was so crumpled and wrinkled that it made it physically painful to look at. No time to iron and wash, the conference was in an hour!

Levi (and MC if they went with) rolled up to the school in a less than impressive ride, but one look at the uniform and all the other people present went “yep, time to be respectful (tm)”

For the first time in his life Levi was more intimidating than Lucifer! And he wasn’t even trying!

When the teacher starts explaining the course material, Levi spaces off in horror as he realizes he remembers literally nothing from school (AND HE’S STILL IN SCHOOL!) all that’s running through his head is “A squared + B squared = C squared” and “the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell”.

The actual interview was the least interesting part of the trip, the real stuff happened when Levi passed by some art on display in the hallway and something caught his eye-

Those colours… that hair… that adorable smile..!

IT WAS HER! LEVI’S PRECIOUS RURI-CHAN IN ALL HER GLORY!

Levi immediately started fawning over the art class fanart and by sheer coincidence, one of the kids walking through the hallway happened to notice.

The kid asked MC if their… parent and or guardian liked anime. MC responded with “obviously.” Levi then asked the kid if they drew his adorable Ruri-chan. The kid said no, and that they drew the My Hero Academia fanart a few rows down.

Levi was absolutely floored that there were two anime fans in one class, then his entire world shattered when MC explained there was more anime art inside the art room and other classrooms.

H-hang on… did that mean that… a lot of people here… liked anime..?

Levi needed a while to process. No snacks on the way home…

Levi and MC were sat in the back of their Uber, Levi, the Avatar of Envy himself, was having his entire sense of reality warped. S-so much anime fanart… in a school of all places..! What did this mean for the future of anime?!

“Levi. Stop.” MC sighed. “If this were an anime, the camera angle would be doing that thing where it’s right on the bridge of your nose and dramatic music plays in the background.”

“S-so many kids in your class like a-anime huh..?” Levi stuttered, weakly trying to smile. “Must be nice..?”

“Oh, that’s just my class. The other classes and grades have their fans too.”

“Oh… really?”

“Levi,” MC stopped looking out the window and looked at the otaku that was having a full scale silent mental breakdown. “Anime isn’t even a niche interest anymore. It’s a pretty casual thing to watch now. At least a third of my class watches- Levi?”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH! ANIME! A THIRD OF THE CLASS?! ANIME… HIS PRECIOUS ANIME… WAS BECOMING A NORMIE INTEREST! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

“Levi?” MC waved their hand in front of their spaced out demon’s face. “Leviiiii? Okay he’s dead.”

The Know it All (Satan)

Ah, a smart choice, MC. Satan would be glad to help further their education. He’ll do everything in his power to make sure that the human’s brain is fed all that sweet sweet knowledge.

Satan can’t dress himself normally, MC had to coax him into a suit jacket, but he still only wore one sleeve.

MC was coming along to the interviews whether they wanted to or not, it’s important to hear what they need to improve on from the teacher themselves after all.

The two arrived pretty early, so Satan asked MC for a tour of the school. It was pretty tame until they reached the library. Satan was horrified at the state of some of the books…

Their spines lined with duct tape… pages missing and torn… someone apparently used a taco as a book mark…

The first thing Satan does when it’s time for his interview is demand the teacher take better care of the library, even though they’re not the librarian. MC tries to explain this, but Satan is too distraught to listen to reason.

He enjoyed hearing about the course material, but he made it known if MC thinks the assignments are too easy that they need to be given more challenging work. THEIR BRAIN NEEDS TO BE STIMULATED DAMN IT.

It was up to MC to either agree with Satan and nod to the teacher, or make frantic eye contact with them to try and communicate “NO DON’T PLEASE”.

Similar to (ugh) Lucifer, as long as MC is doing their best, he’s happy for them.

…but if they are in any way in the running for valedictorian he is HELPING THEM WIN.

He decided to stop at a cafe or bookstore to let MC pick out a “congrats on surviving your pitiful school” present after the interviews.

MC gleefully perused the shelves of the bookstore, there were so many books too look at…

“I’ll buy you as many books as you’d like, MC, just,” Satan shuddered slightly. “Promise me you won’t treat them like those poor library books…”

MC put their hand over their heart. “I swear on the duct taped book spines that I will never treat a book like that.”

“Good… good…” Satan breathed a sigh of relief and went back to looking at his book about cats.

“Are you… reading a Warrior Cats book..?” MC asked tentatively.

“Yes, why?”

“Satan, put that back.”

“I Will Seduce the Teacher For the Sake of Your Grades, Don’t Worry.” (Asmodeus)

Oh MC dear! He’d be delighted to go! Just let him get ready~

Asmo may not be the best choice, but he was at least going to be the best dressed person at that conference. (And MC just had to come too so all the other parents could be jealous of how well coordinated their outfits are)

He teased MC a little by saying he was going to flirt with their teacher to make sure they passed the class, but he was just kidding! …but he made sure to ask if their teacher was cute, he needed to know!

While waiting for his turn, Asmo flirts with some of the single parents, if he doesn’t see a wedding ring, they’re fair game.

Once his time slot arrived, MC realized that Asmo is one of those “my child has done and will do nothing wrong ever” types. This may have ended up working in MC’s favour if they were a class nuisance.

If MC is doing very well in sports, clubs, grades, anything, Asmo is fawning over them and gushing to the teacher about how great, smart and adorable they are.

Asmo surprisingly does not exactly flirt with the teacher, he was just teasing MC after all. But um… if MC’s teacher just happens to be cute and young, he may turn up the charm, just a little. Enough to make the teacher giggle and make MC cover their face in embarrassment.

After the interviews Asmo will probably schedule a nice day out for the two of them, shopping, a movie, mani pedis, something fun!

The real weird stuff happens in the months after the interviews… if Asmo did lightly flirt with the teacher, MC gets quite a few questions about their guardian. Questions that ask if Asmo is single in not as many words…

Oh lord, MC’s teacher developed a crush on Asmo.

Nail painting night was supposed to be a fun occasion, but MC was hopping mad and embarrassed. Asmo didn’t seem to notice as he continued to paint the little human’s nails.

“And then I told Phenex to get lost. The nerve of that little monster, right MC?” When MC didn’t reply, Asmo looked up and tilted his head. “MC?”

MC’s angry face would have been much more threatening if they weren’t just so adorable, but it was getting the message across.

“MC..?”

“Asmo.” MC’s glare deepened. “My teacher wants to know if you’re single.”

Asmo blinked a few times, before he hit his tongue to keep from laughing. “Really now~. I knew they’d be madly in love with me-”

“WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIIIIIIIIIIIS?!”

Oh My Demon King is That a BAKE SALE?! (Beel)

Of course Beel said yes! He’d gladly go to MC’s parent teacher interview!

He even put on a nice outfit :D he ended up looking a bit like a secret serviceman guarding MC, the tiny president.

Beel stopped for McDonald’s on the way there, all the other kids were so jealous of MC when they stepped out of the car eating fries.

But a little something something caught Beel’s eye when he and MC walked into the school… was that a… bake sale?

MC quickly explained that the bake sale was fundraiser for their class trip that year and the snacks weren’t complimentary. He had to pay.

And pay Beel did. He cleared out the entire table. MC’s grade’s overnight trip was going to be decadent as hell. That was no longer a crowd funded thing, that trip was privately funded by a tall buff ginger secret service member and this tiny in comparison child.

Kids are incredibly blunt, just like Beel, so when a random kindergarten kid wandered over, looked up at Beel, and very knowingly said “you’re very tall”. Beel was like “yeah”. The kid then said “what’s it like being that tall?”

Beel’s response to this kid’s question was to pick them up and hold them for a few seconds before placing them back down. For just a few moments this kid knew what it like to be over 6’4. Of course, more kids swarmed in and asked to be picked up.

Sure it was cute, but Beel now has an army of kids ranging from kindergarteners to third graders.

Finally, the conference actually began. Beel snacked the entire time and dutifully listened to everything the teacher had to say.

After the interviews are over, he checks with MC to make sure everything the teacher said was true and that they weren’t lying. If all was well, the two made their exit.

They stopped at Wendy’s on the way home.

“I’m so full…” MC groaned, Beel held up a massive cookie.

“So I can eat this?”

“No. Gimme that.” MC took a very defeated bite out of it. “My stomach says no but my mouth says yes…”

“I don’t want you to get a stomachache, MC,” Beel said worriedly. “No more snacks.”

“It’s a little late for that. It’s past nine and I’m still eating, there’s no way I’m getting to sleep at a reasonable hour.”

“Oh…” Beel mumbled. “I may have not completely thought this through.”

“*Snore* Huh? Wha? MC’s Grades? Uh… Fuck…” (Belphie)

MC must be failing a class or something because why on earth would they pick Belphie otherwise.

They ask him to go while he’s delirious from just waking up from a nap, he sort of half nods and mumbles some gibberish before going back to sleep.

MC had to basically carry his ass to the school. Belphie drooled all over them in the waiting room, and when it was their time to go into the interview, Belphie had to be manually put into the chair and slapped awake.

He barely listens, he just sits and nods along with whatever the teacher is saying. The teacher could say MC brought an alligator to school and he’d just go “uh huh…” “mmmph… yep…” “really now?” then yawn.

The only thing that could possibly get Belphie to be interested is if MC is studying space. If they are, than boy howdy is Belphie suddenly interested in their education.

Other than that? *snore*

If MC is in fact failing or doing poorly, MC’s teacher asks to see another one of MC’s guardians at a later date. Their plan failed miserably.

MC drags Belphie out of the school and yells at him for not helping them. Belphie, still sleep delirious, tries to press the snooze button. MC does not have a snooze button.

“Belphie!” MC shouted, shaking the Avatar of Sloth awake. The House of Lamentation’s resident bastard was somehow sleeping standing up outside. “HOW COULD YOU?!”

“Eh?” Belphie half-snorted and looked around confused. “What’d I do? Where are we?”

“At my school! You said that you’d go to my parent teacher interviews!”

“…MC I don’t think I’d pass well for you.”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GO AS MY GUARDIAN!”

“Sheesh,” Belphie murmured while he rubbed the remaining sleep from his eyes. “You humans are so noisy.”

MC looked up at their dearest demon friend, and gave him their best glare. “I’m going to take all your fancy temperature changing pillows and switch them with normal pillows you traitorous bastard.”

#obey me #obey me! #obey me! shall we date? #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me! headcanons #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me! Lucifer #OM! Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me! Mammon #om! Mammon #Obey me Leviathan #Obey me! Leviathan #om! Leviathan #Obey me Satan #Obey me! Satan #OM! Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me! Asmodeus #Om! Asmodeus #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me! Beelzebub #Om! Beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me! Belphegor #Om! Belphegor #Obey me MC #Obey me! MC

[darkthingshappen]

May 5th- Mind if I cut in?"

Ballroom | Knife | Stumbling

@themerrywhumpofmay

Ben once again found himself laying on the table, stretched out and trembling.  How many days had it been?  Four? Five?  Six?  He tried to think back over the previous tortures.  But the electric shocks he’d endured a few days ago made recalling timing of events difficult. 

Currently, he was on his stomach, feet shackled to the lower corners, wrists bound together and secured to the top middle of the table.  He had the bit gag in his mouth and that was never a good sign.  That usually meant Volkov was going to drag out something and it was going to be so painful he’d need something to bite down on. 

A stool scraped across the floor and Volkov came into his line of vision.  Ben’s shirt was already gone and the fact that there was a towel beneath him worried him immensely.  Whatever Alexei was planning, it was going to be done to his back. 

Volkov took off his jacket and dress shirt before pulling on a short-sleeved scrub shirt.  His arms were covered in tattoos – the eerie, creepy kind – skulls with black empty eyes and twisted bodies.  Ben went back to looking at the table, resting his head on metal beneath him. 

Volkov laid something on the table in his line of vision and Ben couldn’t help but look.  It was a roll of leather.  When he unrolled it, after making sure that Ben was watching, he revealed a set of knives.  Ben swallowed and pulled on his restraints out of habit.  He looked up and met Volkov’s eyes. 

“Did I ever tell you that I am somewhat of an artist?”  Volkov asked with one eyebrow raised.  “No?  See, a long, long time ago, before I made my billions, I was a bit of a criminal.”

Ben had to actively work to not roll his eyes. 

“I spent some time in prison and I learned a few things.  I got pretty good at three things.  Branding, which I am not going to do today.  Tattooing, which I am also not going to do today.  And knife art – the subtle art of creating raised lines in the flesh to make a design – which I will be doing today.  Your body is going to be my canvas.”

Ben’s eyes went wide, and he desperately shook his head.  Volkov smirked. 

“I know we haven’t really scarred you up to this point, but we are almost a week into this and I really don’t see your brother being able to pay me back, do you?”

Ben nodded rebelliously, clinging to hope. 

“That’s adorable.  You hold onto that.  I look forward to seeing it shatter inside you,” Volkov said picking up a knife and delicately tracing a line on Ben’s cheek.  Ben stiffened, but the knife didn’t break the skin. 

“So, here is what I’m going to do.  I’m going to start my artwork.  Eventually it might possibly encompass your entire body.  I’ll have to see where the muse takes me.  For today, I thought I would basically carve a frame around the edges of your back for what will eventually be there.  I have a grand design for this first piece, and I want you awake for the whole thing.  So, it might take us several hours.  You just have to lay here and stay calm.  I’m the one that will be doing all the work.” He ruffled Ben’s hair playfully. 

Ben wondered if he would ever get use to the depravity and indifference with which he did such horrible things to people. 

Ben flinched as someone turned on music.  Classical… He knew this piece, but his mind couldn’t focus enough to name it.  It was a ballroom piece, like on those dance shows his mom liked to watch, that was all he could recall.  “So, may I cut in?” Volkov asked with a dark chuckle as he set the cold blade against Ben’s skin.

#the merry whump of may #ballroom #knife #brother’s keeper #whump #captivity #cw restraints #kidnapping #whump writer #whump community #ben adkins #alexsei volkov #Benjamin Adkins OC #Alexsei Volkov OC #bit gag

[monocaelia]

royalty au headcanons

what they would be in a royalty au and the sweet moments shared with them.

feat. albedo, childe, diluc, kaeya, venti

genre : fluff, slight angst in childe's

❀ albedo

albedo is the royally appointed painter of your family. he's in charge of painting all of the portraits of the royal family, which is well deserved. the blond artist's brush strokes and painting techniques make all of his works of art feel so alive, almost as if they could walk out of the canvas they were painted on and live amongst the people.

he prides in his works, always making sure each square inch of each painting absolutely perfect before presenting it to the royal family. even if they were already perfect to begin with. but, as they say, you're your own worst critic.

from since you were both young, he was hired by your family to teach you the basics of the arts as well as how to properly hold a brush.

so, you could say albedo has watched you grow from a grubby child to the elegant and refined person you grew up to be. an honor, really, to watch the stars in your eyes grow brighter and brighter with each passing year.

"ah, you've messed up the brush stroke here," albedo's gentle voice points out the mistake in your technique. your ears burn from having your mistakes pointed out, but you know it's for the best. you clear your throat and try to fix it, only to have albedo sigh from beside you.

"like this, your highness." before you can even react, you feel the heat from albedo's chest radiating against your back and your hand is encased in his own. he guides your hand with his, making the brush you're holding glide smoothly across the canvas.

his hand is cold, you think to yourself, and you wonder if he's been maintaining his health properly. but in contrast to his hand, his breath is warm against your ear as he talks you through the painting technique.

it's hard to focus when you're feeling overstimulated from the proximity of the blond painter and the rather domestic position you're in; almost as if your entire body is being embraced by the artist you grew up with.

"understand, your highness?" his quiet voice breaks your thoughts. he's close to you... so close. you gulp, praying to the archons above that albedo couldn't feel your hands shaking from this entire exchange.

"i thought you were supposed to call me by my name when we're alone together, albedo," you stutter out shakily. it's then that albedo realizes the position the two of you are in. his teal eyes widen slightly in surprise and his ears begin to burn a light pink. the artist pulls away, muttering a small apology to you.

though, albedo has to admit that having you in his arms, albeit for painting, felt so nice. from the position he was in, albedo could have counted the thousands of stars that your eyes held; and he would do anything to see them again.

❀ childe

ajax became a knight of your kingdom from a young age. he was always bored from the day to day schedule of his familial job; he wanted more and nothing could satiate the need to do something, anything that could give him the exhilaration that he needed.

which being in the knights provided for him. from learning how to properly wield a sword, to sparring with the best knights in your kingdom, to being a master at any and all weapons in your artillery, the ginger haired knight loved every second. he always felt alive when wielding his weapon, always grinning ear to ear when he's sparring for fun.

despite being a terrifying machine of war, ajax would never betray your family, let alone you. he swore an oath to protect everyone in the kingdom when he joined the knights, and that included you. the one who has watched him since he was a clumsy knight in training, fixed up his injuries, and wiped his tears away when he was frustrated with himself.

the call of ajax's name alerts him of your presence along with the quick pads of your shoes against the pavement. said male turns to look at you, smile big and bright on his face. "your highness! fancy seeing you here so late. did you miss me that mu-"

"is it true?" you interrupt him. your furrowed brows and frown etched onto your features contrast against the bright expression on the knight's. ajax's smile falters a bit when you stop in front of him, holding your arm and biting your lip in concern. "is it true that you're going to fight in the war?"

ajax blinks, stunned at your question. but he laughs lowly, not helping you in your concerned state. "of course, why wouldn't i? i made an oath to protect you, your family, and the people. it's my duty to go to the front lines."

his cerulean eyes stare into your own. you take a breath, hesitating on what to say or do next. ajax assumes you're going to scold him for throwing himself into the pits of danger, assumes that you're going to yell at him because when he fights he fights with no care to his own body. he would power on through the fight until he physically wasn't capable anymore.

"would you stay with me if i asked you to?"

your question surprises the ginger knight. out of all things that you could have done or said, he wasn't expecting this.

his finger strokes your cheek, sliding forward until your jaw rests in the palm of his hand. ajax gives you a smile, endearing yet bittersweet. he wants to stay here with you, to see your annoyed expression when he ends up hurting himself again or the huge smile on your face when he does something dumb.

but duty calls. and you know that.

his heart falls when you sigh and pull away from his touch. but it flutters again when he feels something hard press into the palm of his hand, your own covering his.

"then, promise me you won't die out there, ajax. take this lucky charm of mine and stay safe. i'll miss you."

you plant a quick kiss on his freckled cheek and run off before he could see you cry. unfolding his hands, he's greeted with the delicate, red mask you've placed in his hands.

❀ diluc

being the heir to the throne of your own family makes it hard to miss the prince of the neighboring kingdom. prince diluc is a stoic and hard to please person. every time you've seen him in passing at royal balls, he has always had a frown or blank expression on his face.

but, despite what his outer expression and appearance shows, the young prince is a kind and gentle individual. at least to you. in contrast to how stoic he is with others, his warmth is always welcoming and comforting to you. if he's being honest, you're one of the few people, if not the only person, who has witnessed the genuine yet small smile of prince diluc.

when he has the time off, he writes letters to you, often complaining about how useless the knights and how he would rather work alone. but he never fails to indulge you about the little things that have happened since the last time he has spoken to you. how he misses seeing you and that the next time you visit he would take you to a beautiful meadow he passed by on one of his scouts around mondstadt.

you, his only friend who sees the young prince as who he is, and not what the rumors, nor what his title says he is.

"thought i'd see you out here." diluc's ears perk at the familiar cadence of your voice. his eyes that held the warmth of fire flit up to look at you, and his breath is taken away. underneath the gentle glow of the moon, you're practically glowing in front of him. with rich, beautiful silks covering your body and a comforting smile quirking your lips up.

"what are you doing out here? it's cold out here, and the party's inside, [name]," he scolds you. diluc's expression deadpans when you stick your tongue out the corner of your mouth and shrug. when a cold breeze flows through and you physically shiver, the red haired prince sighs and slides off his coat, throwing it over your shoulders.

"i could say the same to you. besides, i saw you out here looking lonely and like a fool, so i thought it would be nice to join you. so you don't look so pathetic." it takes everything in the young prince to not take his jacket back from you and march back inside the palace with the intolerable guests. "i'm kidding! but not about the lonely part. are you alright?"

the playful glint in your eyes disappears in that moment, captivating diluc yet again. he could never outright tell you this, but your eyes are the most beautiful he has ever seen. filled with actual starlight and twinkling with fondness for the awkward prince.

"yeah, just a bit overwhelmed with the guests inside."

you hum in response to him. "well. why don't i keep you company then? from one royal to another. we don't have to say anything, but having someone with you is comforting, right?" ruby eyes widen when you step forward and grab onto his hands, intertwining them. he hopes his cheeks aren't as red as they feel and that you can't see his blush despite the proximity.

"r-right. as long as it's just you, [name]."

maybe the young prince will find the courage to be more forward with you, ask to court you with a bouquet if your favorite flowers and a love letter slipped in between the petals. but for now, he finds solace in your company and your gentle hand laced with his.

❀ kaeya

the origins of how kaeya ended up in your kingdom's calvary is an enigma. no one is quite sure where he had come from, nor had any idea who he trained under considering he was an exceptional equestrian and sword fighting on horseback came so easy to him. every time anyone asked him about his background or history, the blue haired knight would always brush it off and redirect the conversation to something else.

despite having a mysterious background, kaeya still ended up captain of your calvary not too long after he joined your kingdom. though, anyone could have expected it considering he easily outwitted the previous calvary captain in their own sparring sessions.

during his time there, you can't admit that kaeya hasn't caught your eye. he's handsome; his laughter and taunts while sparring with the other knights sends butterflies to your stomach. charismatic and always lightly teasing you whenever you drop by the knight's hall made it difficult to suppress the rhythmic thrum of your heart.

"oh come on, your highness. don't tell me you're getting cold feet now." the smirk on kaeya's face only grows when you send him a glare. he finds it amusing that you're still trying to stand your ground despite your evident fear of the horse in front of you. "i thought you knew how to mount a horse."

the calvary captain snickers when you tell him that you are going to, that you're just not familiar with his horse. his sapphire eye follows your movements and form a crescent when his horse turns her head to look at you.

as you try and muster out an explanation on why you were startled, kaeya takes this time to slide his hands underneath your arms and hoists you up above the horse. your leg slips over the saddle of the pure white mare and you yelp in surprise at the sudden motion.

before you can yell at kaeya for not warning you, the calvary captain climbs onto the saddle behind you. because of the limited space on his horse, the blue haired knight's chest is pressed against your back and his arms encase you so that he could properly hold onto the reins.

"cat got your tongue, your highness? there's no need to be so scared, i won't let you fall. well, unless you're being more unpleasant than usual. don't blame me if you end up on the floor."

laughter surrounds you when you yell at the calvary captain to 'stop messing around.' he can't help it; kaeya loves riling you up and hearing his name slip from your lips regardless of if it's in between fits of giggles or out of anger when he teases you one too many times.

from the position you're in, you aren't able to witness the endearing look that adorns kaeya's visage when you calm down and lean into his touch as soon as his mare starts moving.

❀ venti

there's nothing that suits venti more than being associated with music in some way, shape, or form. he's a well known musician around your kingdom; knowing at least the basics of every instrument known to man and having every song he has ever heard by memory.

rumors around your kingdom flutter around, saying that hearing a song sung by venti himself could cure almost any disease because of how angelic and healing his voice is. of course, it's not true but the young bard likes to play along with it. anything to get free drinks at the local bar, right?

there's no surprise that your family hired the bard to become your piano tutor. but cheeky smiles, poetic songs regarding the beauty of nature, and lyrical poetry of the beauty you hold make it hard for you to not fall for the playful virtuoso.

a delicate melody drifts down the halls of the castle, elegant staccato piano cords resonate in each other's harmony. your fingers deftly glide over the ivory keys, eyes closed and letting your memory guide you through the piece.

beside you, venti plays your counterpart with a gentle smile on his face. a contrast to the beautiful, yet complicated composition that was being performed.

it was his idea to learn this rather tedious piano duet; you thought it was too difficult because of the complicated melodic line and technical harmonies. you recall many nights filled with frustrated tears and crumpled silk from trying to perfect the melody given to you; and venti's gentle voice as he consoled you during those nights and urged you to rest.

before you know it, the piano duet ends with a final statement of the tonic harmony. silence settles into the room as the final chord resonates in the empty concert hall, only to be broken when you shout victoriously.

"your highness, that was a wonderful performance!" venti congratulates you with a proud smile on his lips. the percussive beat in his chest accelerates when you beam at him, the candlelight making your eyes gleam as if they held the entire universe in them.

"it's all thanks to you, venti! oh gosh, i'm so proud of us i could almost kiss you!" the statement leaves your mouth without thinking and leaves the both of you stunned. one, two, three beats of silence and on the fourth you begin to stutter out an apology with a flustered expression on your face.

venti's airy, light laugh fills your ears and echoes against the vast walls of the concert hall. you want to dig yourself in a hole and hide for the rest of your life.

"and what if i take you up on that offer, your highness? or should i call you [name] now? a kiss ending this performance of ours would be way better than a bow, don't you think?"

#albedo headcanons #albedo x reader #childe x reader #childe headcanons #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia headcanons #diluc x reader #diluc headcanons #kaeya x reader #kaeya headcanons #venti x reader #venti headcanons #didi writes #genshin #genshin impact

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨3

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) sleep paralysis, stress.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: I’m so happy people are liking this story. Thanks so much to everyone reading and sorry if I’m a bit inactive lately, I’ve been exhausted and yesterday didn’t end, I swear.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

On Monday, you yawned over your keyboard as your fingers moved on instinct alone. Your eyes ran along the text but the words were just letters to you. You had a lot to think about, a lot to do. 

You decided you would skip lunch and get through your work day an hour early so you could head to Clark’s right away. He was hard to deny when he asked if you could make it back so soon. You told him you worked everyday from home and you had hours beside that at the gallery three times a week at least. He accepted it with a nod but his silence was telling so you caved and said you could make it but not until the evening.

You texted Marcus as you waited for your Uber. He had a few hours to go still and you left him everything he needed to make supper with instructions; the veggies were cut, the meat thawed, and the pans already arranged on the stove. You had faith he could manage on his own.

The mansion was just as intimidating as the first time you visited. You walked up the drive and to the front steps. It was human nature to be envious of the sprawling yards and lavish estate and yet, it didn’t feel as if someone could truly live here. It would be like staying in a hotel as you were always overly aware of your every move, afraid to break something or make a mess.

You hammered the large knocker when your soft tapping brought no answer. You heard someone on the other side and wiggled your foot nervously. The door opened and square-faced woman greeted you in another language. You couldn’t tell if it was Swedish, German, or some other dialect. You were never a skilled linguist.

“Um, hi, I’m…”

“Ah, you are the lady painter,” she said, “I remember. I am Nina, Mr. Kent’s housekeeper.”

She turned and beckoned you to follow her. You closed the tall door and trailed her across the spacious foyer and behind the stairs into the kitchen. She turned through another room and led you out through the glass doors that opened onto the pool.

“Miss, would you like a drink? Tea? Coffee?” she asked.

“No, thank you,” you said as the water moved and your eyes were drawn to the figure moving beneath the surface.

“Miss,” Nina nodded and left you.

You stood, awkward and listless, and glanced around at the loungers and the umbrella over the round table. You weren’t entirely sure what to do. Had he forgotten about you?

“Hey,” your gaze was drawn back to the pool. Clark waded to the edge, his broad shoulders and chiseled chest visible as he made his way to the shallow end, “sorry. Lost track of time.”

He grabbed the metal railing and climbed up the stairs. The water slaked off his tight trunks and down his thick thighs. He appeared even larger with less clothes. You looked away before your thoughts lingered too long.

“It’s fine, I should have texted I was on my way,” you said, “I can go wait for you--”

“No worries,” he took his towel and rubbed dry his dark hair. The scruff along his chin was thicker than before, almost a full blown beard, “you’re not in a hurry, are you?”

“No, not really, can’t really rush… painting,” you shrugged, “I just… I didn’t mean to catch you off-guard.”

“Pfft, I’m ready for anything,” he grinned, “but I should also listen to the artist. I’ll go get changed and you can get settled in the studio.” He directed you ahead of him as he approached the sliding doors, “you just finished work? You should take a few minutes to unwind.”

“Uh, yeah, but it’s just, um, typing, not exactly hard labour,” you said as he followed you inside.

“Work is work,” he said, “I will never fault anyone who works hard, regardless of what they do.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” you stifled a yawn behind your hand.

He let out a breath as you came out into the foyer, “I’m sorry, you could’ve… you’re tired. We could have rescheduled. I’m sorry if I came across… pushy yesterday. I don’t mean to take advantage of you.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you assured him, “I’m fine.”

“Alright,” he said doubtfully, “but you let me know if you need a break.”

“Will do,” you murmured as you neared the stairs.

🎨

You weren’t even close to done just the background of the portrait. Clark really didn’t even need to be there as you shadowed the folds of the curtains around his figure and the marble bust. Your arm hurt from reaching across and up the gigantic canvas and your eyes burned from squinting at your work.

You backed off the ladder carefully with your paintbrush and palette balanced in one hand. The paint was drying and you needed to mix more. You set down your armful and wiped your hands on the rag. He was watching you, he was always watching you. Well, no, he was just looking in your direction; it was all for the portrait.

You hit the button on the side of your phone and gasped. It was midnight. You had several messages from Marcus and you blanched as you unlocked the cell and quickly texted back. You rubbed your eye as you hit send and turned to Clark.

“I didn’t realise it was so late,” you said, “I gotta go.”

“What time is it?” he asked and looked at his watch, “oh.”

He pushed himself to his feet with a grunt and stretched out his arms as he neared. You took your brush and rinsed it in the tinted water in the jar.

“I’ll just clean up as I wait for an Uber,” you said as you let the brush rest in the jar and lifted your phone again.

“I’ll drive you,” he said as he grabbed a rag, “it’s a long way. I’ll hire a driver for you from here on out. It’ll be easier and cheaper.”

“You don’t have to--”

You flinched as he wiped your cheek with the rag. He smiled and showed you the paint on the white cloth.

“I wouldn’t offer it if it was too much trouble,” he tossed the rag down, “and I did have something to talk to you about. The drive will be more than enough to get it sorted.”

“Oh, okay,” you eked nervously. Had you done something wrong? Were you not painting fast enough?

“I’ll meet you downstairs,” he touched your arm gently.

He left you and you finished scraping off the palette and cleaning your brushes. You dumped the jar in the sink just inside the nearest bathroom and rinsed the porcelain back to white. You left everything arranged neatly on the table and descended to the first floor.

Clark stood by the door in a different jacket, his tie gone and the top button undone. He held the door for you and showed you to the garage. There were at least a half-dozen cars inside and he took you to the same silver one he drove the night of the show. You settled in and groaned as the tension left your shoulders.

He started the car as the doors rose behind him and he backed out smoothly. He turned down the long drive and onto the desolate roads of the wealthy countryside. He kept one hand on the wheel and dropped his other to his thigh casually.

“So, your job, you like it?”

“It’s work,” you said, “I get paid to sit at home and type. Half the time, I’m just waiting for an assignment.”

“I asked if you liked it,” he said more pointedly.

“Oh, well, not… really?” you answered, unsure. 

He could be so pleasant and then so blunt. He made you nervous and the more you thought of it, the more you realised you knew almost nothing about this man besides his name. You didn’t know how he made his money or what exactly he did outside of his extravagant mansion.

“If I doubled your fee, would you quit?” he asked without hesitation.

“Quit? This… the painting won’t take forever,” you said, “I can’t really just drop everything--”

“This is an opportunity,” he said, “you could spend your days doing what you love. And who’s to say it’s just one painting? I already have something in mind for the dining room and I have friends asking about you.”

“Friends? Who--”

“One thing at a time,” he said curtly, “I’ll introduce you to them in time. Is it a deal?”

“I… it’s all very sudden, can I think about it?”

He looked at you in the rearview and you caught his eye. For a moment, you were afraid. There was something in his expression that left you breathless. He lifted his hand and stretched his arm between the seats, his fingers gripped the leather just above your shoulder.

“Sure, I’ll give you a couple days,” he said at last.

“I--I’m sorry…” you didn’t know why you were apologizing but it felt appropriate, “I just, I’m tired.”

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” he assured and the epithet hung in the air.

“I have to go to the gallery tomorrow, I’ll get back to you on Wednesday,” you said as you rubbed your chin nervously. Your lips was quivering. He was smiling but you felt his impatience in the small space of the car, “if I… if I say yes, I have to talk to my boss and that might get messy.”

“No problem,” his voice softened, “you take some time and figure it out.” His thumb rubbed the leather seat and he pulled his arm away to grasp the steering wheel, “why don’t you close your eyes. We got some time left.”

You peeked over at him and nodded. 

“Okay,” you murmured and hugged your bag against you as you tried to relax against the leather. You turned your head and looked out the window up at the starry sky. You closed your eyes as the fatigue settled over you but you could only fake dozing as your nerves stormed inside of you.

He was right, it was a great opportunity, but you just couldn’t believe it would last. Was it your own doubt getting to you? Or should you be weary of this fairytale buyer? It was late and you couldn’t think. All those worries could wait until tomorrow.

🎨

You crept into the dark apartment. It was after one and you foresaw a long day ahead of you. You’d get maybe four hours in before it all started again. You put your purse down and went into the bedroom, undressing in the shadows and crawling into bed next to Marcus as the colours of the tv moved around him. The playlist he was casting kept on even as he slept.

He grunted as you laid on your back and he turned to graze your arm with his fingertips. 

“You’re home,” he grumbled and kissed your cheek, “I was worried.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I… it’s so far out there and it’s a lot of work. The canvas is like nine feet-- I’m sorry, I’ll let you sleep.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” his voice was gristly as he propped himself up on his elbow, “you’re gonna finish the job right?”

“I don’t know,” you said, “I don’t know if I can.”

“Of course you can,” Marcus insisted, “I mean, at that price, you can do anything.”

“It’s not about the money, Marcus,” you huffed, “I don’t know if it’s worth all this. Going back and forth…” you ran your hands over your face, “he wants me to quit my job and just paint for him.”

“You should,” Marcus said blithely, “why not? He’s paying you well enough.”

“And what about when I’m done,” you whined.

“You’ll find more work. Vanessa even offered to take on more of your work in her shows, so what’s the problem? Isn’t this what you want?”

“Y-yeah, it is but… I don’t know, it just seems too good to be true.”

“You do this and we might even have enough for a down payment,” he said, “something had to give after all these years. Why can’t it be this?”

You looked at him and tried to smile, “you’re only saying that because he has a pool.”

“Maybe,” he kidded, “but I also want it for you. You spend all your free time painting anyhow so why not get paid for it?”

“Mhmm,” you mumbled, “yeah, I just don’t know why I feel so… I don’t know. It just all seems off.”

“Sleep on it, you’ll feel better,” he leaned over and kissed your lips that time, “love you.”

“Love you,” you echoed as he grabbed the remote and shut off the tv.

You closed your eyes as the darkness shrouded you and despite your anxiety, you fell into a deep sleep. You didn’t even roll onto your side before you sank into your REM but found yourself caught in limbo. The abstract and intense sensation of paralysis overtook your body and your eyelids flicked open.

It was an awful feeling you knew too well. You knew you were dreaming, you knew it was all in your mind, but your body was filled with sand and your subconscious conjured visions of doom. The tall man stood by the door as he always did and just stared. He got closer, just a little at a time, and you fought to move just a finger and free yourself from the trance.

You felt like you were drowning as your body remained heavy and unmoving. He was getting closer and closer. As he did, his figure changed and his shoulders got wider as his features came clear in the slat of the streetlight that leaked between the curtains. It was Clark staring down at you, his blue eyes sinister and sparkling. 

He reached for you and you woke with a start as your name rose from his lips. You inhaled sharply and looked over at Marcus as he snored. It was only the two of you. You reached for your phone, it was just after three. You turned onto your side but your heart still raced. It always happened when you were stressed, the dreams felt so real that you never really came back down after.

You stared at the wall and curled up under the blanket. You didn’t expect to get much sleep anyway, not with the question on your mind. Should you quit and live your dream or should you kill all hope before life did it for you?

#clark kent #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #superman #series #portrait of a dangerous man #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #mob au #mob!au #dc #dcu