#that would’ve been so much cleaner than this

[lorcandidlucienwill]

I have no idea how Sjm will be handling the Lucien and Eris high lordship situations but I do have the idea that she’ll probably upset me.

#let my men rule in peace! #lucien vanserra #eris vanserra #sjm critical #i just know the og plan had lucien and nesta as high lord and lady of autumn #that would’ve been so much cleaner than this #tho i am glad for eris’s existence don’t get me wrong #but now i gotta be worried for everyone #also they ARE both high lords and will be be ascending in no time #i truly believe this

[byersbootyshorts]

Not So Smart Now (S.R.)

Spencer’s intelligence and cocky attitude has always infuriated you. So, when given the chance, you revel in putting him in his place.

Word Count: 2,882

EXPLICIT CONTENT MINORS DNI!!

Warnings: sub!s7!Spencer, dom!reader, smut, unprotected sex, hate sex, dumbification, slapping, degradation, alcohol consumption, language

cocky Spencer is so yummy I wanna rip him apart

This case had been rough. The unsub had slipped through your fingers again and again and each time it seemed like he slipped further away. You forced your eyes to focus as you combed through a plethora of files, trying desperately to find something that could link the unsub to his victims. You sipped your coffee like your life depended on it, but not even the caffeine could help you find what you were missing. Morgan was sitting opposite you and he sighed in frustration. Emily paced back and forth going through the case in her head. You were all stumped.

You looked up at the investigation board, trying to give your eyes a rest from the tiny black letters they’d been staring at. You scanned the photos of the crime scenes. All of the women were found dead in their backyard. Drowned in the clean blue waters of their outdoor pools. You raised a brow, your eyes flicking frantically between the photos. The clean… blue… CLEAN!

“Oh my God, that’s it!” you exclaimed, springing out of your chair in excitement. Emily and Morgan looked at you with expectant expressions.

“What?” Emily asked after you stared in awe at what you’d missed for so long.

“All the pools, they were-,” you began, but just as you were about to explain your theory, Spencer burst through the door, not even aware that you were revealing a crucial part of the case, and began rambling.

“Guys, all the pools were cleaned the day each victim was killed. There wasn’t so much as a leaf or a bug sitting on the surface of the water. So, I checked, and they all hired the same pool cleaner.”

Spencer set a file down on the table that contained a picture of the guy you assumed was the unsub that had been evading you for so long. But you couldn’t even feel relief that you’d finally found him. Because you didn’t find him. Well, you would’ve if Spencer ‘boy genius’ Reid hadn’t of found him first.

The team rifled through photos and records of the unsub for a few minutes before Morgan finally asked you, “Oh, what was it you figured out?”

You glanced over at Spencer with a look that could kill before answering, “It doesn’t matter now. I think Spencer’s got it all covered.” Your voice was higher pitched than usual as you tried your best to fake a pleasant tone. You plastered a false smile on your face and Morgan shrugged, looking back down at the pages on the table.

You tried to follow suit, picking up a page printed with the guy’s phone records. You knew the only thing on your mind should be figuring out how to find this son of a bitch. But you couldn’t concentrate. You were literally seconds away from saying exactly what Spencer said before he stormed in and stole your thunder. He did it all the time. And you hated him for it.

The case was solved and the unsub was found. As always, the team congratulated Spencer on figuring it all out. And you allowed them to. One thing didn’t want to do was make a fuss and say you solved it too. But if he smiled that stupid, cocky smile one more time, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to contain your anger. And sure enough, you couldn’t.

You had just touched down at Quantico. You walked with Emily and JJ to the bullpen to collect some things before leaving. Then, as always, you ended up standing around your desk chatting about the case.

“I don’t think I’ve ever drunk as much coffee in a 24 hour period than I did on that case,” Emily laughed.

“It was rough,” JJ sighed. “I’m glad we got him. I don’t know how many pools there are in Florida but if we hadn’t of caught him I’m sure he wouldn’t have run out of victims.”

You smiled. Finally this was something that would prove your intelligence to the group.

“Actually there’s one mill-,”

“There are one million, five hundred and ninety thousand pools in Florida.”

You turned around to glare at who’d interrupted you. Your eyes narrowed when you saw Spencer sitting at his desk. He hadn’t even looked up from his computer before he’d stolen your opportunity to be smart.

“Oh my God!” you shouted, your eyes widening in disbelief. Of course he had interrupted you again.

Spencer turned to face you at the sound of your raised voice. A puzzled expression spread across his face. He was clueless. He didn’t even know he was doing it.

You knew you should just let it slide and say, “Yeah, that’s correct,” or “That’s what I was going to say,” but you couldn’t this time. You were done putting up with him constantly undermining you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you said, almost laughing at just how much of an ignorant asshole he was.

“Huh?” Spencer grunted, getting up from his desk and walking towards the three of you.

“You don’t even know what you’re doing, do you?” you asked. You stepped forward so there were only inches between the two of you. Your eyes stared daggers into his.

Spencer shook his head in confusion, his breath wavering slightly. You pretended not to notice the blood rush from his face and down his neck towards… Nope. You weren’t thinking about that.

“You know what, just forget it,” you said, stepping away from him. “You’re not worth my time.” You grabbed your bag, stormed out of the building, got in your car, and sped home.

It had been about thirty minutes since you’d slammed your apartment door, grabbed a bottle of vodka from your cabinet and sat on your couch, scrolling aimlessly through random TV channels. You drank straight from the bottle, your mind reeling with hatred for Spencer. It was like he had some sort of radar that could sense when you were going to say something impressive. And when that radar went off, he had to come in and ruin everything. He was such a know-it-all. And maybe he did know it all, but he didn’t have to rub it in everyone’s faces all the time.

You took another swig from the bottle and sighed. You had no idea how you were going to face him the next day. Being on the team with him was becoming insufferable. You had to do something to stop yourself from wanting to punch him every time you saw him.

It was just past midnight, but you were still wide awake, when you heard a knock on your door. Your brow furrowed as you considered who it could be at this late hour. You set the bottle of vodka on the coffee table and went to unlock the door. When the door swung open your eyes darkened at the figure in front of you. It was Spencer.

“What is your problem with me?” he asked, not even bothering to say hello.

You let out an uncontrollable laugh of sheer anger at his utter obliviousness. The only reason he should be showing up at your door in the middle of the night was to apologise. And yet here he was, not even aware of what he’d done wrong.

“You are unbelievable,” you sighed, turning away from the door and walking back into your apartment. Spencer took that as an invitation to come in, so he stepped forward and shut the door behind him.

“No, seriously, why don’t you like me?” he insisted. “Because I can’t think of anything I’ve done to you that should make you act like this.”

Spencer’s voice raised and his tone became sharp. You couldn’t believe this. He was angry? He had no right to be angry with you.

“Well, Doctor Reid, maybe you’re not as smart as you think you are if you can’t figure out something that’s so painfully obvious,” you snapped.

“Enlighten me, then. Tell me why you hate me so much,” Spencer retorted.

“No,” you said. “If you can’t see what you’re doing wrong then I’m not telling you.”

“Tell me why you hate me and I’ll tell you why I hate you.”

You paused for a moment. You knew your feelings towards him were of hatred, but you had no idea he returned those feelings. Now you were curious

“I hate you because you can’t shut up for one second to let someone else say something smart for once,” you began hastily, desperate to know what he hated about you, but also relieved to get everything off your chest. “Everyone knows you’re a genius, Spencer. You don’t need to prove it all the damn time.”

“What, so you hate me because I’m smart?” Spencer questioned.

“No, I hate you because you don’t let anyone else be smart. I hate you because you get that stupid little grin on your face every time you say something smart.” You began walking towards him, slowly backing him against the wall. “I hate you because every time I see you I have to force myself not to slap that cocky grin right off your face.”

Spencer stayed silent for a moment. He was almost right up against the wall. Your face was so close to his you could feel his breath. You could also feel something else starting to grow in his pants.

“Well, don’t force yourself this time,” Spencer breathed.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“Hit me,” he said bluntly, his mouth widening into that familiar, infuriating grin.

“Oh, don’t tempt me,” you said, taking a step back.

“No, do it. Hit me,” he said, genuinely.

You gave him a hesitant look but he continued to smirk like he was the smartest man alive. You made up your mind. He was giving you the opportunity and you weren’t going to turn it down. You raised your hand and slapped him hard on the cheek. Spencer whined and his hand flew to his face. He rubbed the red mark that was appearing on his cheekbone but his eyes never left yours. And that stupid grin remained on his face.

“Just out of curiosity, is there anything you do like about me?”

You seriously considered his question. You tried to think of one thing you liked about him. It was harder than you thought. Until you remembered the way his breath hitched when you got near him.

“I like that when you look at me your dick gets hard,” you said calmy, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. “I like that I have the power over you to make you do that.” You traced your fingers over the red spot where your hand hit his cheek. “You might be a genius but you’re still just a man. You have needs.” With your other hand, you lightly touched the bulge in his pants. He swallowed but still his eyes remained locked on yours. “Your mind might be one of the greatest of our time, but your body is just like every other man’s. You say you hate me but your body’s telling me something very different. It’s pathetic.” You pushed him back again so he hit the wall. “I could lower your IQ one hundred points just by fucking you,” you whispered.

“Wanna bet?” Spencer raised an eyebrow.

Without hesitation you slammed your lips onto his. He whimpered as his head hit the wall behind him, but soon he melted into the kiss. You could feel his lips curl upwards against yours. He was fucking smiling. He was enjoying this. That only enraged you more. You pushed yourself away from him and glared at him.

“Come here,” you said, turning around and walking towards your bedroom. You escorted Spencer inside the dimly lit room and turned to face him again. You looked down at the ever-growing bulge in his pants and began unbuckling his belt in silence. He sighed when you pulled down his underwear.

“You know what? I excepted more from you, Doctor Reid,” you said finally, smirking down at his below average sized cock that was now fully exposed to you.

Spencer said nothing, but, for the first time, his eyes drifted away from yours.

“Oh, don’t worry. That’s not a bad thing,” you smiled, wrapping your hand around it. “That just means I can take it for longer.”

You picked up the pace of your hand and Spencer moaned quietly. His head fell to lean on your shoulder and he sucked a spot on your neck. Eventually, you lifted your hand from his dick and began unbuttoning his shirt. When you pulled his shirt off his arms you turned your mouth to his ear and whispered, “I’m going to fuck you dumb.”

You pushed him down onto the bed. He lay there while you undressed, taking in your figure. You climbed on top of him and his hands immediately travelled to your thighs. He stared up at you with that smart ass glint in his eye. He wouldn’t look like that for long.

You didn’t flinch as you lowered yourself onto his dick. Spencer squirmed slightly beneath you, trying his best to stifle a whimper.

“I- I know a ton of other facts about Florida, you know. Not just how many pools there are” he said, his smugness slowly draining from his body as you rode him.

“You won’t know them for long,” you smiled, alternating your pace between fast and slow. Your inconstant rhythm was torturing Spencer.

“It’s state flower is the orange blossom,” he said confidently. “And it’s the flattest US state.”

“Shut up,” you whispered, anger flaring up in you again. You wished you could tear his brain right out of his head.

“It’s also 65,758 square m-miles, making it the 22nd largest s-state,” he continued, his words slowly starting to slur.

You looked down at the egotistical smile that was still plastered on his face, despite his stuttering. “Shut up!” you said, raising your voice. You lifted your hand and slapped him again. Harder this time. The whimper that Spencer had been holding in since you started finally escaped his lips.

And, at last, he shut up. The only noise he made was the occasional whine every time you quickened your pace.

“You masochistic fuck,” you laughed, grabbing his shoulders as your thighs began to burn. “All I had to do was hit you again and you’re reduced to a whimpering mess.”

“Shit,” Spencer breathed. “I- I’m go-.” But he couldn’t even warn you before you felt his cum shoot inside of you.

“Not so smart now, huh Doc?” you said shakily. Your breathing was ragged but that didn’t stop you. It didn’t matter that Spencer was finished. You weren’t.

Spencer didn’t get time to recover from his high as you immediately began to pick up your pace again, grinding harder and harder as his cum seeped out between your legs.

“Why don’t you tell me another fact?” you taunted. He looked as though he couldn’t speak, never mind tell you a fact. “What about an easy one? What’s the population of Florida?” you asked.

“It’s, uh- I don’t-. Fuck, I don’t know,” he stuttered.

“Seems like I won the bet then,” you panted. His hips jerked up and you moaned at the sudden movement. Finally seeing Spencer a pathetic heap below you sent you over the edge. You came without a uttering a word. The sensation caused Spencer to shake beneath you as he came for the second time.

You rolled off him and sighed. Spencer’s chest moved rapidly up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath, brushing his hands through his hair.

“What? Are you annoyed that I made you dumb?” you asked, your voice laced with patronization. He rolled his eyes at you and you turned onto your side so your face was close to his.

“You know, you never told me why you hate me,” you said, running your finger down his chest, making his stomach tense.

“It doesn’t matter,” Spencer mumbled, his face flushing slightly.

“Yes it does,” you argued. “I told you, so now you have to tell me.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment before he whispered, barely audibly, “I hate you because… Well, I-.”

“I can’t hear you,” you said, looking at him expectantly.

“I hate you because I’ve wanted you to do that to me since the day I met you,” he blurted out.

You chuckled, grabbing his chin between your finger and thumb. “Well, if you’d told me that when you met me then this could’ve happened a lot sooner.”

“You wanted this to happen?” Spencer asked, a smile forming on the corners of his mouth.

“I wanted to prove you’re not a genius all the time. The sex is just an added bonus,” you explained.

Spencer’s cocky grin appeared back on his face and in an instant you were reminded of how much you detested him.

“Oh, it’s a bonus?” Spencer smirked. “Does that mean you want to do it again?”

You scoffed at his confidence. “I hate you,” you groaned, as you climbed back on top of him, ready to leave him a dumb, pathetic mess once more.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #sub!spencer reid #dom!reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid gifs #criminal minds #smut #smut oneshot #smut fic

[ladyelissarose]

———————— 🚬

“Get on the ground you cunt!- I don’t care if you twisted your wrist that’s your problem later but your training comes first!!”

You winced in pain as your wrist madly throbbed, while you got down on all fours to bear crawl across the desert field with a rucksack holding 100lbs. The commander screaming at you was from a different base, but he had crashed here for the time being, and became your worst nightmare when he chose to train you during his stay.

Price agreed to it believing he was a good man, he had heard some good things about him, that he was very well disciplined and held high standards for everyone. So he thought that it would be good for you- not that you needed it, you were one of his best Sergeants, but an important mission was coming up, and he wanted you to be extra prepared.

But little did Price know, was that the commander was one of those men that hated women in the work field, believing they weren’t capable enough to lead such strong forces, he only saw them as cooks, cleaners, bedwarmers, and breeding machines. So when he saw you, a woman, holding a good rank and part of a good team, he made it his mission to break you to the point you got out.

But you were better than that, and it took very much to partially dent you, for under your soft smiles and gentle, kind acts towards others both great and small, a killing machine you were in disguise.

You held a grand amount of kills under your belt, and successful missions as well that you had led first hand. But your superior could care less, he hated your guts and wanted to be the one to take you down and hold all your titles in his hands.

For the past weeks no one had known what kind of hell he put you through, for he made you train in the hot sun, far away from base, and out on the field, saying he needed to toughen you up like a man- since you wanted to work in a place of a man.

Price would’ve been aware of your terrible treatment and absence as of lately, but that upcoming mission has him on loads of paperwork and preparation for his team.

That was until he was ready to gather his crew together to open up about the mission he had planned out once he got through with it.

The first he always sought out was you, as you were his youngest and most helpful in finding the rest for him. (Sometimes Ghost would lurk in the shadows and Soap and Gaz would hide off to play pranks on new recruits, and you happened to know every spot.)

Much to his dismay and after 3 hours of searching, he had finally found Ghost cleaning his weapons in the darkest corner of the barracks, Soap re-loading his bb gun like a desperate child as Gaz laid on his side with an agonizing face, holding his crotch- but.. he didn’t find you.

He let Ghost take place for the meanwhile to scold the boys as he insisted on finding you, maybe you were going through a rough time and didn’t want to show face, or were probably menstruating- he didn’t know, but either way he wanted to help where he could and pull you up and out.

He looked in every nook and cranny, corner and closet, even knocked on your door and entered politely, only to find it empty, also checked the showers and restrooms, walked backed into his office thinking he’d find you stealing from his stash of candy- yet no sight of you.

Lastly he stood outside, drained and concerned, with a hand on his hip as he let out a few puffs of air from his cigarette.

“Where are you bunny? Hmph..”

He cared for you deeply, and not being able to find you had his stomach churning with worry. He had started to panic a bit, worst thoughts of a kidnap situation or worse coming into his mind, but no.. that couldn’t happen, he had the best team that wouldn’t dare let a stranger lay a hand on you, they had their eye on you too-

So he needed to calm down and let his mind wander into purer thoughts, and think calmly.

“-urry up!! Move your ass you excuse of a soldier!!”

Price whipped his head towards the thundering voice of a commander, his mind snapping out of his thoughts as the voice he heard sounded awful- meaning degrading and overall dictating. He poked his head around and couldn’t find the source, until he heard a whimper,

“Ah! I can’t- Agh!!”

“THERE IT IS!!! You can’t do it!! Now how hard is it to admit it!?”

Price’s jaw just about dropped, his cigar following suit as it hit the ground it utter shock and disgust. Not disgusted by you, but by the commander that hovered over you with a finger in your teary and red face, and his foot over your wrist, pressing down on it. This- this is what infuriated Price.

“Oh shows over.”

Stomping angrily towards the commander Price didn’t let a second pass as he barked authoritatively,

“Commander, step away from the Sergeant now!!”

Jumping back like if he saw a ghost, the Commander stuttered as he saw the anger seeping out of Price’s ears,

“J-John-“

“It’s Captain to you- Sergeant, go. In my office.”

The tone Price used was deep and full of rage, his accent coming out thicker than ever. It shook you up a bit, but made you get on your feet in lightning speed, and run to his office without questions asked or daring to look back. You weren’t too sure exactly who he was angry at, but you hoped it wouldn’t be you as you were mentally distraught and exhausted- as well as physically drained and in pain.

“Now who the fuck do you think you are? Eh?”

Price was ready to rip a new one into this asshole, and more was coming as the commander scoffed, trying to play it off,

“Oh- come on. Just giving her extra training, can’t have a dainty woman on the field you know? At some point she will suffer.”

He had let out a dry chuckle, attempting to let his obnoxious behavior slide, but Price only growled,

“You’re not even half the soldier she is... The Sergeant is more of a man than you.”

The commander tsked in disbelief,

“You don’t mean that, we both know the Sergeant doesn’t belong here, she never will.”

Price would’ve killed the man instantly, choked him, stabbed, shot- just murder him for being so hateful and degrading.

But as a Captain, leading to be the best example for his team, he’d be the better man and person, to reply instead with a stern yet calm voice,

“You’ll be out of my face and off my base by the next hour, if not you’ll have Ghost leading you out and he isn’t nice. Don’t make me ask twice, it’s an order.”

Without sparing garbage another glance, Price turned around and spoke into his radio and informed Ghost,

“Ghost I have the commander that needs to be off my unit immediately. If he’s not gone in the next 20 minutes.. you have my permission to do as you please with him until he’s off of it. Am I clear?”

Ghost replied in an instant,

“Affirmative. I also found the Sergeant, though she said you ordered her to your office?”

Price nodded,

“I did, I found her out in the fields with the arsehole, so I sent her in. Deal with him before I do.”

“Will do Price. Don’t worry.”

Price was walking towards his office, trying to calm himself down so he could be present and calm for you, it was a tad hard to do as this piece of trash took it too far with you. Although it was the next sound he heard that turned his anger down completely and raised the new emotion- sympathy and guilt.

He could hear your soft sniffles and muffled groans from behind his office door, it made him upset with himself that he hadn’t found you sooner, or sought for you after your first absence or shift in behavior.

He’d do anything to take it all back, but now he must focus on the present, and help you out where you’d let him. He had to come to understand that you might reject his help after he let you be under the hands of such an evil dictator.

Upon opening the door your cries had stopped, and pleas came out instead as he made appearance in front of you,

“Captain please! I can explain-“

“Sit back down Sergeant.”

He didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh, but the pain in your face had him worried you were straining yourself more by standing up. But you had immediately listened to him, and took your seat with your head hung low, and your hand nursing your wrist, hiding the swelling and bruising.

Price could see how drenched you were in sweat, the bruising on your fingers and wrist, he couldn’t imagine what more damage was done to you on the inside.

Kneeling to the ground in front of you Price placed his hand on your knee, and began to speak kindly,

“You are kind, you are smart, and you’re a very very, beautiful and strong woman, dove-“

You frowned while the tears grew rapidly, refusing to look at him,

“No-“

He raised a finger against your lips as he refused to hear otherwise,

“Yes. Yes you are. A strong soldier as well, with impeccable service and talent to take on a mission and bring everyone home safe. You have a heart of gold, but with a mind of steel... and both are greatly admired by me. You know that?”

Tears finally streamed down your cheeks as you sniffled,

“But he-“

He grabbed onto your hands that were still clenched on your lap as he insisted,

“Who do you trust? Hm? His words or mine?”

Oh of course you trusted Price, he was your Captain and secretly you admired him, he was your greatest competition and everyday you worked hard to be like him, a fearless and mighty leader.

But the harsh words you’ve been hearing go on repeat like a broken record had your heart wanting to doubt it, so much of it almost had you believing it was true.

“I want to believe you Captain but-“

“But you will. Trust me darling. And forgive me for letting him be with you, I should’ve kept an eye on ya regardless... you’re my soldier.”

‘You’re my soldier.’

You could see deep regret in your Captain’s eyes, you knew this wasn’t his fault as he had thought the Commander was a better man, but now he knows the truth.

“I forgive you Captain... I do.”

A smile that crinkled his eyes showed on his face, sympathetically he squeezed your knee and placed a warm kiss on your forehead,

“Thank you darling.. now let me wrap your wrist up for you ok?”

Handing him your wrist carefully you trusted him,

“Please do, it really hurts.”

You let out a little whimper when he held it, it pinched his heart but it made him want to work on it quicker so the pain would go away sooner. He sighed as he started, after his kissed the darkest bruise on it,

“I know, what a bastard... he’s gone now by the way, he’s never coming back here- and if he does Ghost will take care of him ok?”

Relief washed over you at the thought of this man never being in your sights again.

“Oh! That’s good... that’s good.”

It didn’t take long before the Captain was done putting a special cream on it and wrapping it up tightly, smiling proud at his accomplishment.

“There ya go darling... it’s all wrapped up for ya.”

After expecting it you became satisfied with how the cream was beginning to numb the pain,

“Looks good as new Cap-“

“Ahh Sergeant don’t kid yourself-“

“No it is! It’s got the Captain’s touch to it.”

Price knew you were trying to make the two of you feel better, so he went along and pat your head gently,

“It sure does, no one can say they have it.”

Nodding along you smiled, happy you were in the safety and comfort of your Captain’s presence.

“Nope. No one can but me.”

Now you’re walking out of the office with Price by your side, his hand on your shoulder while he guided you to the debrief room. You felt invincible because you were protected by the best Captain and man you knew, no matter what happened and how long.. Price always came back around, he had your back.

#price mw2 #captain price #captain price x you #captain price x reader #john price x reader #john price x y/n #john price fluff #captain price fluff #cod price #price cod #call of duty #call of duty price #cod #john price #captain john price

[stillnotyourmusebitch]

AAAGH I loved your sinner!Adam fic about him and Reader watching TV together 🥺

I heard you take sinner!Adam requests so is it okay to have a sort-of part 2? Maybe watching movies became a regular thing between them and one time they end up kissing during one? If you find it repetitive and don't want to it's totally okay, I understand! I hope you have a nice day and keep up with the good work 🥹

Oh I loved writing this. The fic below is a sequel to this ficlet

I do hope that you liked it. I'm always worried I've made him too ooc but Sinner!Adam is fanon based atm and if he is wanting redemption he would change his ways.

So Urm yeah enjoy. . . .

What we watching?? Sinner!Adam x GN!reader

Fluffy af

That night watching trashy romcoms with Adam could have just been a one off thing and you would’ve been fine with it. But when he approached you in the communal kitchens the next morning with a proposition to make ‘Thursday film night’ a regular thing between the two of you. You had asked him why. He said that hanging out with you yesterday was one of the most fun things he had done in a long time. You smiled fondly at him before agreeing.

-

As Thursday night rolled around again. You were looking forward to sharing some more of your favourite films with Adam. He’d said he would be there by 6ish. You glance at the time on your phone. It was only 6.05pm. He’s probably just running late after the one on one session with Charlie.

An easy way to keep your mind busy was dragging out all your blankets and making a sort of nest type thing on the floor by the couch. You used to do this with your family when you were alive. It just made the movie marathons all that more special. After seeing how far Adam had come since arriving at the hotel. You had really wanted to show him how much he meant to you.

‘Wait, as a friend.’ You stopped mid cushion grab. You liked him as only a friend right? Right?

Your door burst open and slammed shut very quickly Adam was only 45 minutes late, you looked up seeing him breathing hard, carting an armload of snacks, drinks and a few bowls of things.

“There you . . .” he shushes you looking frantically at the closed door. “What did you do?” You whisper as you crawl onto the couch.

A far off loud shouting could be heard in the silence. He waited a minute more before letting out a breath.

“It wasn’t my fault honest.” He looked extremely guilty. You quirked a brow wanting an explanation. “I was trying to make my super awesome dip for our movie night but I maaaaaay have made a really big mess but I didn’t mean to, I just tripped over that cleaner chick who was chasing more of them roaches. This hotel must have an infestation or she is breeding them just to kill. Oh wait, I’m getting off point, the thing is I might have made too much of the dip than I intended and I kinda launched half of it onto another patron. But it wasn’t my fault. This time at least.” He frantically spoke as he juggled the drinks and snacks about in his arms before depositing them carefully on the coffee table. Standing back up he turned and looked down at what you were making. “What’s that?” He points to the accumulated amount of cushions, blankets and other soft furnishings piled on the floor.

“Well, the thing is.” You hopped off the couch into the nest trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal. How were you supposed to explain the reason behind it without him laughing at you? “You know what it’s stupid let me just . . .” You felt shame rush to your cheeks as you tried to dismantle the obviously stupid idea.

“Hey, I didn’t say it was a bad thing. Looks comfy as fuck. Budge up would ya.” You hopped out as he set himself down in the dead center of the nest, keeping his legs open slightly to give you a place to sit. Last week he really liked having you snuggled up close to him, why did you think this week would be any different.

You chose the first movie and plopped yourself down in the space he left for you, his arms wrapping around your middle pulling you flush against his chest.

“So what we watching?”

-----

“I have a question do all of these movie have the same premise?” Adam asked after about 15 minutes into the third film.

“Whatdya mean?” You say through a mouthful of chips.

“Like . . hang on pause the film a sec.” He fumbles for the remote to stop the movie. You shuffle a bit to see him better. “Like don’t get me wrong they’re good films, a bit cliché but surely the lead woman knows that the ‘Oh I’m a famous something or other I have no time for a man’” his fake high pitched womanly voice had you laughing. “Hey shush let me finish my thought.”

“But you make such a good woman.” You poke at his chest playfully.

“Ah ha ha ha.” He grabs your hand in his. “But seriously shush. My point is are there any original ideas in these films?”

“You saying I got trash taste in cinema?” You try pulling your hand away from his grasp. Adam doesn’t let go but pulls you closer to him.

“What I’m saying is watching all these oblivious people who clearly have strong feelings for the other person, got me thinking.” He looks down at your hand in his. “Ya know what never mind let’s keep watching the movie.” He lets go of your hand and grabs for the remote, setting the film going again.

The whiplash from that conversation was enough to make your head spin. You stayed a second more simply looking into the face of a man who had something he wanted to say but couldn’t bring himself to do so. As you turned back in his arms to watch the movie, you could hear a small sigh of relief.

You tried to go back to watching the movie but you couldn’t. Adam only held you loosely now, choosing to focus more on grabbing snacks and sipping his soda. Your mind went into overdrive.

‘What did you do wrong?’

‘Was he mad at you?’

‘Did he . . . wait did he like you?’

You almost choked on a piece of popcorn at the realisation. Adam liked you.

Daring to flick your eyes to look at him. He was focused on the film but the soft look of longing he bore was almost too much.

“Adam?” Your voice was gentle so as not to spook him.

“Mmmyeah?” He was still watching the screen.

You grabbed the remote and paused the TV again.

“Hey, it was getting to a good part.” He looked down at you annoyed. “What. Is there something on my face?” He touches his face trying to feel for any irregularity. “Hey, say something you’re freaking me. mmmf” You pulled him down by his shirt and kissed him. He froze against your lips.

‘Shit was I wrong?’

You move to pull away. But his hands cup your face pulling you back into a tender kiss that makes you melt into his touch. The kiss lasted no longer than 5 seconds but you didn’t care you felt like your entire body was floating.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He spoke softly as he broke the kiss. “Can I kiss you again?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes.” Your words were barely a whisper but it was all he needed to pull you back against him, he kissed you in such a tender way that made your heart flutter in your chest. You didn’t realise he was capable of such gentility but you craved more of it. Your hands carded into his hair, being careful of his horns, as one of his hands went to cradle the back of your head, effectively tilting your head to allow him to deepen the kiss. His other hand moved to your lower back, fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt. The kiss had an undertone of heat laced in the movements of your joined lips.

You broke the kiss panting slightly, you noted his pupils were dilated slightly as you were sure yours mirrored back.

You had to slow this down now before you regretted anything.

“Adam.” Your voice low in warning. “As much as I enjoy kissing you. Can we take whatever this is a little slower?”

You expected him to whine or pout about being told no. but he just smiles goofily at you. Swiping a thumb over your lower lip.

“Sure thing.” He kisses your forehead before helping you settle back against him the way your were before. He picked up the remote “Ready to continue?”

You weaved your fingers with his other hand and nodded “Ready.”

--------

I hope this is what you wanted.

My ask box is still open if anyone else got requests

#jamie writes #callmerainman #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin adam #gender neutral reader #sinner!adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #prompt filled #my fic

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

part 15 - we’re all misunderstood

"Me and all my friends, we're all misunderstood. They say we stand for nothing and there's no way we ever could." -Waiting On The World To Change by John Mayer

Masterlist Part 14

The Watchtower was a marvel of engineering and fortitude, constantly in orbit above Earth among the star-studded void of space.

Just a quick glance out of the meeting hall window had proved to the Regent that her little brother would love it here. He’d inherited the innovative side of Fentonworks more than she, so the combination of one of his obsessions and tech to fiddle with was a dream come true. 

(She’d inherited the ruthlessness of Maddie Fenton.) 

Batman, the Dark Knight her little brother had trusted and the father of her soulmate, tapped away at a tablet in hand before turning his focus to her at ease form, hands clasped behind her back. Wonder Woman stood at her side and Superman at the other. A flanking maneuver it seemed. 

The Regent would’ve been offended if they didn’t consider her a threat, despite her willingness to discuss war prevention between the Infinite Realms and the Living Realm. Her armor alone was meant to be intimidating at first appearance, but it was the woman sealed into it that gave off the vibes of ‘Approach with caution’. She was a Warrior, not a pacifist,and everything she presented about herself was meant to signify that. 

However, the Regent was trained by the Ancient of Peace and would demand a peaceful resolution to a crisis rather than conflict, even if the Liminal had no desire for a battle against the Justice League. 

Constantine was a familiar presence in the room. The Laughing Magician had a soft spot for her little brother, but she felt the claim she had of his soul. It was cracked and missing so many pieces, but it was still a good one. The Sad Trenchcoat Man might’ve been a career drunk and conman, but that didn’t mean he was unnecessarily bad. 

He wouldn’t be here if he was. 

The man in question spoke first, much to the obvious surprise of those present, “How’s Phantom?” 

Her helmet turned to face him down where he sat a few feet away, an unopened flask resting on his thigh, “He is fine. Would you like me to pass on a message?” 

Constantine seemed to relax for a moment before shaking his head, “Nah, the kid bugs me enough.” 

“Regent.” Batman interrupted. “We would appreciate it if you could answer some questions we have regarding some disturbing files we received from Phantom.” 

The Liminal nodded, “I suspected as much. I cannot speak much on behalf of the King or others not present, but I will answer what I can truthfully.” 

“Thank you, My Lady, for your willingness to discuss such things with us.” Wonder Woman offered with sincerity in her words. 

The Regent shook her helmeted head, “I’d rather peace than be across from one another on the battlefield, Princess.” 

“Wisely so.” 

The Knight tapped on his tablet again, a projection of one of the Ghost Files documents spreading across the wall behind the Bat, the man in question returning his attention to her. 

“Why does the King require a Regent?” 

If Bruce was being honest, which he was, he’d rather be anywhere else than here in the Watchtower about to helm peace talks between the Infinite Realms and Earth. He’d rather be eating dinner with his children, questioning Phantom about Jason’s whereabouts, or even on patrol- anywhere but here. 

It wasn’t even the presence of the armored woman who’d answered in place of the King Constantine had been asked to summon, rather Bruce wanted nothing to do with the Death Energy he felt in lapses radiating from the Regent that felt… cleaner than that of what Ra’s Al Ghul or Talia had. 

Bruce wanted answers. 

But he also wanted to be anywhere but here. 

He supposed it was his self-preservation instincts trying to get him away from the being that’s been summoned, he had no choice but to stay though. 

“The King is too young.” The Regent replied evenly, hands clasped in front of her stomach, much like Diana would when trying to demonstrate that she’s prepared to draw her sword at a given moment. “There is still much for him to learn and experience before he is ready for the Crown.” 

Batman hummed, even though Constantine spluttered in shock- “A kid defeated Pariah Dark in single combat?” 

“Yes.” 

“There are some questions that we would like to have recorded for the record, would you be amenable to this?” Batman interrupts, “We would also discuss public use.” 

Regent nods, helmet tinting a darker green as the Watchtower lights slant across it for a brief moment. “I accept, though there are some answers that are not mine to give.” The woman takes a breath, “I cannot give the identity of the King without his permission, nor can I discuss how or when he died.”

“Is there a particular reason why?” Superman asks. “It is considered taboo to ask a ghost anything related to their death because it can cause them to relieve it.” A pause, “Ghosts, or Ecto-Entites, are a fighting-based culture. They are beings of varying intelligence, thoughts, and emotions- sentient and sapient, much like humans and aliens. Capable of great things, both good and evil.” 

Bruce processed those words, a pit of horror forming in his chest. How many times has this woman said those exact words, hoping for them to be heard? They were eloquent, with the formality that hinted at diplomatic training, but with so much hope that it almost physically hurt. 

Capable of great things, both good and evil. 

Wasn’t that the choice Bruce made every time he put on the cowl? Anytime one of his kids got hurt and he felt such rage in his bones? He made the choice every day to do good and while it may not be great in the broader scale of things, it was to somebody somewhere. That was what it meant to be alive, to have free will, to exist. 

Now he finally understood why Phantom gave him the Ghost Files. 

He needed this. This confrontation of what it means to exist outside of Bats and Birds, the cowl and the mask, as a being. Would Bruce have listened had he not seen the Files? If he hadn’t seen the inhumanity committed upon the inhuman? What evil would he have perpetuated had he refused to listen? 

(Tim might think he had been the only one to watch the video of Danny Fenton’s death.)

(He was wrong.)(What if he hadn’t heard the wail?)(What if he hadn’t seen the rebirth of Fenton to Phantom?) 

With all the bloodshed the GIW had on their collective hands, they would not go quietly. 

The Regent had emphasized their zealot tendencies, hypocritical ideology perpetuated by the Drs. Fentons and somewhat lackluster training, but exceedingly advanced technology geared explicitly towards Ecto-Entities in her testimony to the Justice League in the hours that followed. Several examples from the Ghost Files were explained and expanded on, including the destruction of the Casper High Gym which resulted in the death of a faculty member and the maiming of a student. Evidence of the town roads being utterly demolished, what looks like the aftermath of war being the norm for the citizens as they try to go about their daily lives. 

She had prepared to discuss all the above, and gone through various questions she’d been expecting from the League, but she had steadfastly avoided thoughts of the GIW’s unethical experimentation. Naturally, the League began this particular section with the Files’ opened to what Danny, Tucker, and Sam had included, a warning issued to all present that what they were about to watch was grotesque and to leave the room if they felt unable to hold the contents of their stomachs. 

The Regent was an older sister, a daughter, a leader, and a warrior- but she was still only able to take so much. (She hadn’t known the Fentons recorded Danny’s Phantom’s vivisection.)

(She hadn’t known they called each other sweetie and fudge-kins while digging in his chest cavity.)

Fury was a familiar enemy and friend in equal breaths, existing in the space between her ribs and her heart, trapped by a cage of bone and will. 

Fury echoed by her mirror image that entered the camera frame, sword first and merciless as she gutted Jack Fenton. 

(Regret was nowhere to be found.)(Shame had no place here.)

“By Realms Law 2127 subsection 32f paragraph 3: liminals, mortals, all in between may be promptly judged and or executed on grounds of threat to End a protector spirit or child. May also be decreed as battlefield law when faced with a sufficiently armed opponent and or external force.” The Regent recited monotonously. “Drs. Fenton also could have been tried for Invasion by opening the portal, but Phantom was able to give them a pardon.” 

“On what grounds?” Wonder Woman questioned, “He is a protector spirit, yes?” 

“Yes, which allowed the previous Law to be enacted and legal. By him acting within Amity Park and using Fenton tech to catch Ghosts, he gave them a pardon by an unspoken alliance.” 

“An alliance they broke,” Batman this time was clearly angry too in his clenched fists were any indication, “when they vivisected Phantom.”

“Yes.” The Regent continued, “Make no mistake, I uphold the Realms Law to the best of my abilities and expect my subjects and my council to do the same. We are a people and people have societies, societies have structures and without that, we would be no better than what the GIW claims us to be.” 

“Well spoken, My Lady.” Wonder Woman complemented, clearly taken by the Regent’s speech. 

“This is all gory and horrifying, but we still haven’t talked about preventing a bloody war.” 

While he’d been quietly observing the meeting, minor mutterings here and there, Constantine remained the only Dark member present. The Regent was somewhat fond of the Sad Man, even without having ownership over his soul (or the majority of shards) he would remain a fond memory for the Nightingales. 

 “My Lady,” the Magician belatedly addressed her, clearly having recalled to whom exactly he was speaking. 

“Constantine,” Batman warned, “we’ll get to that.” 

“Indeed we shall. In fact,” the Regent twirled a hand in a graceful motion “the Anti-Acto Acts is the main point of contention on the docket and allows that,” now she thrust a pointed finger at the Files’ section on ‘experimentation’, “to be legal.” 

“It’s been discussed, previously, to bring these laws before the UN with a censored version of the Ghost Files.” 

The Regent nodded almost immediately, “If you can, yes, but I would recommend leaking some of the data for the public to judge.” 

“Amity Park, for instance?” Superman asked, “Let the public choose a side and put pressure on the UN.” 

“Perhaps.” WW nodded, “Though there is likely chance that blame will be shifted onto the Ghosts solely for the damage.” 

“We can show the footage of the attacks that caused them.” Batman interjected, “As well as the videos of Phantom protecting Amity’s citizens at risk to himself.” 

The Regent agreed, “There are also videos of teenagers practicing drills for Ghost and Ghost Hunter attacks.” 

“What about sitting for an interview for a newspaper?” Superman suggested, “I can get a reputable reporter to conduct it.” 

“That can be done.” 

The Regent felt a slight tug on her Proto-Core, a shiver down her spine to follow- her little brother was trying to summon her back to him. Nothing urgent, not with just a slight tug, not an emergency. 

It had been quite a while here anyway and she missed her boys. 

“I’m afraid I am being summoned for a council meeting.” The Regent announced, “If I am needed again-“ 

She took a breath before turning to Batman, “You May summon me, Dark Knight, through your Lady’s Claim.” 

A friendly handshake with Superman, “Have your reporter meet me in the Ridge next Friday during the Witching Hours.” 

A clasping of arms with Wonder Woman, Warrior to warrior, “When this is settled, I would ask for a spar, Princess.” 

And the Regent was gone in a torrent of icy green-tinted mist. 

A/N:

Happy new year!

I can't believe it's 2024 already! Feels like I just got used to writing 2023.

As always, thanks to the wonderful beta @meditating-cat, who also let me who use them as a sounding board for ideas for the Regent earlier. I cannot wait to write those ideas, let me tell you.

As always, if you have any song suggestions please feel free to share and check out the masterlist for the rest of the series. It's always updated afterwards!

Thanks for reading!

#dp x dc #dp x dc au #dpxdc #dc x dp crossover #jazz fenton #regent!jazz #jason todd #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jazz x jason #batman #anti-ecto acts #let's get it #happy new year 2024 #lets start it off right with the end of the GIW

[kingkatsuki]

Trying to find condoms in the Abyss is an on-going struggle, especially when you end up being scammed for your last pack of smokes. But it’s okay, because Enjin’s pull out game is strong right. Right?

Why is it never just a drabble when it comes to him😫

Pairing: Enjin x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, thigh fucking, you tell Enjin to pull out (and he’s doing his best), creampie, cunnilingus, fingering, one spank, dirty talk, cum swapping, spit.

Word Count: 3.8k.

“Fuck,” Enjin groaned when he picked up his bag from the floor, holding the worn condom pack between his slender fingers.

You would’ve burst out laughing at the dejected look on his face as he crouched completely stark naked on the floor if it wasn’t for the realisation that yet again he’d purchased a dud fucking condom. Your cunt clenched pathetically around nothing as you became resound to the fact that you weren’t having sex tonight— especially not now.

“I swapped a pack of smokes for this shit,” He grunts, his cock bobbing in the air as he still attempts to pull the dry condom over his bulging head.

Enjin had been elated when he’d finally found a seller in the next town over, having spent way too long hunting for any discarded plastics in the trash heaps outside. Honestly he’d probably have more luck if he tasked Rudo to do the job, although it seemed far more seedy to employ him to do Enjin’s dirty work. Having to explain to him what the condom was even for would be a conversation for another fucking day, and definitely not something you’d ever want to be a part of.

You were certain he’d put his foot on the gas a little harder than normal to try and get you both home as quickly as possible. Making eyes at you through the rear view mirror from where you sat beside Tamzy as he willed the drive to hurry up. His final few fragments of resolve already cashed in when he stopped himself from bending you over in a dingy alley to take you where you stand back in the last town.

You’d barely had time to take your shoes off in Enjin’s room before he was hurriedly tugging all his clothes off, getting his arms and head stuck in his shirt as he tried to shrug it off to the side. Jumping from toe to toe as he kicked off his boxers, revealing his heady cock to your prying eyes as you pulled your own clothes off. His feet still covered with socks as he hunched over his forgotten clothes, unwrapping his prized condom.

Your cunt throbbed at the crude sound of him spitting down on his length in an attempt of makeshift lube as he tried to roll the latex along his girth, head hung low in concentration as he held his cock at the base.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened to either of you. Protection and birth control were a commodity in the Abyss and it meant that the items were hard to come by. Often waiting for the Heavens to throw leftover items down below, or using the homemade methods that had varying effects and levels of reliability. The last time this had happened Enjin hadn’t left you unsatisfied, tonguing your clit until your eyes were rolling back into your skull and your toes were curling.

“Fuckin’ piece of shit,” Enjin grunted as the condom split over his cock, the swollen pink tip now poked out the top of the latex as he knelt on the floor. Lips curled into a childish pout as this time you couldn’t help but laugh at the scene in front of you, his poor neglected cock bobbing in the air.

“It’s not funny, baby.” He groaned, “Do you know how long it’s been?” Or how much galla he’d wasted trying to procure these. If he got back to that town and found the guy that sold him the dud condom it was gonna be on fucking sight—

You were fully aware, and so was your neglected cunt that throbbed pitifully. Feeling his mattress dip as he came to settle between your parted legs, warm palms smoothing along your inner thighs as he stared down at your glistening folds. Living at the Cleaners compound made it difficult to get many moments alone, from Riyou sneaking in through your bedroom window at all hours, to Rudo interrupting in the common areas and even Zanka had walked in on the pair of you one too many times. The few messy fumbles in the van outside weren’t enough to keep either of you satiated for long, and the erotic books Semiu recommended you did nothing to help soothe the desire running hot like molten lava through you.

“Do you know how much he misses being inside you?” Enjin dragged the leaking tip of his cock through the mess between your thighs, your hips jolting when the head nudged against your puffy clit, “He wants to feel this pretty pussy wrapped around him— see.”

“You’re such a dork,” You shook your head, scrunching your nose at the way Enjin referred to his cock.

“But you love me for it,” He gave you a toothy grin as he tapped his drooling cockhead against your mound before letting the weight of it hang low as he hovered over you to press a sensual, open-mouthed kiss to your lips.

Enjin’s fingers brushed through your folds, collecting your slick on them as he pushed two inside you. Barely enough to make you feel full as he curled them inside you, prodding at the spongy spot inside you as you rolled your hips into his touch. His thumb teasingly flicking your clit side to side as you leaned into his touch, but it wasn’t enough—

You could feel his cock nudge your thigh, leaving silvery lines of pre against your skin as you raised your knee to press against it. It wasn’t enough, you needed more. Swallowing his moans in your throat as you felt him break the kiss with a grin, reaching down to hold your thighs together as he pushed the tip of his cock between them.

“You’re to pretty like this, you know that?” He hummed as he started fucking your thighs, the underside of his cock brushing against your slick folds with every roll of his hips as he towered over you.

Your hands reach up to mould your tits, pinching and tugging at your stiff nipples as you tried to give yourself some added stimulation. The graze of his shaft against your clit was barely enough to have you close, the pleasure ebbing inside you was becoming far too intense as your poor neglected hole throbbed pathetically around nothing.

“Put it in,” You whined, delirious from pleasure as you tried to shift your hips. Spreading your thighs to give him room to slip his drooling cock inside your wet heat.

“What?” Enjin stopped his thrusts abruptly, unsure he’d heard you right, “What did you say?”

“Fuck me, Enjin. Please.” You pout, trying to coax him inside your unprotected hole, “It’s not enough.”

“That’s too risky, sweetheart. I haven’t got—” Enjin swallowed thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing as he glanced down between your bodies to look at your tight heat. Your desperate hole fluttering around nothing as he thought about the way you felt when he stretched you open, fucking you into the shape of him.

“It’ll be fine.” You brushed his doubts away, shifting your hips as he kept his grip against your thighs, your cunt still angled in the perfect position for him to slide right in—

“You’re not on birth control.” You can tell his control is wavering, the excuses few and far between as you feel the length of his cock pressed firmly between your thighs. Coating himself in your messy slick, it would be so easy to just reach between your thighs to push him inside.

“So you can just pull out.” You deadpan, as though it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

Just pull out. As if it was that fucking easy.

“That ain’t a reliable method of contraception, sweetheart and you know it.” You were frustrated now, huffing at his objections as he sounded like one of the textbooks from Korvus’ study.

“We’ll be fine.” You pressed, wide eyes practically pleading with him as you jut your lower lip out for good measure. You reached between your thighs to press the tips of your fingers against his heavy cock, smoothing the fresh bead of pre that oozed from the tip along the soft head.

“Oh yeah?” Enjin raised a brow, his chest concaving when you teased his cock, “Do you not remember what happened last time?”

The last time you’d had unprotected sex, you’d had a scare that resulted in Enjin searching trash piles for the chance of finding a pregnancy test. The futile search ended with you sat in front of the doctor being told that you weren’t pregnant, a result that Enjin still had to foot the bill for— but the stress and panic that came along with it were priceless.

“We shouldn’t risk it.” He shook his head, spreading your thighs apart, “I’ll still make you cum, baby.”

“Enjin, please,” You were whining now, but you didn’t even care, “Just pull out.”

It was cute that you trusted him enough to be able to pull out once he felt your warm, wet walls wrapped around his cock. Especially without the security and safety of that pesky latex barrier that always got in the way, and pinched around the base of his cock to stop him from feeling every inch of you.

His resolve was crumbling in front of you, and you could tell. Your fingers push down on the fat tip, dragging it through your messy folds as it caught against your tight hole. Gasping in satisfaction from the contact as you curved your hips, trying to angle them to dip him further inside. Your fluttering, unprepped hole practically inviting him in.

Just one slight buck of your hips and he’d practically be inside you. Stealing the air from your lungs when his swollen cockhead finally breaches your tight hole.

The stretch was intense. A high pitched mewl escaping your lips as you felt him begin to stretch you open, your cunt swallowing him as he rut his hips instinctively. Burying more of his length deeper in your pliant walls, eyes focused on the way you sucked him in as he disappeared inside you.

Fuck. Enjin grunts, watching you take him inch by inch as your warmth engulfed him. He’d forgotten how good you felt like this, and this was the exact moment he realised what a terrible idea it was. At this rate he wouldn’t even be able to stop himself as he felt you pulse around him. Tightening his grip on your hips as he released the breath he didn’t even realise he was holding, certain he’d leave bruises in his wake as he stared down at the debauched sight beneath him.

Canting your hips pathetically as you tried to move beneath his harsh grip, doing nothing but pressing the thick tip against the spongy spot inside you as you ground yourself against his cock. At this rate he won’t even last a couple of measley thrusts, so Enjin knows he should pull out— to stop this before it goes any further.

But it had already gone far enough— when your warm hands grab for his shoulders and try to pull his frame down on top of you. The movement only serves to bury his cock even deeper inside your pliant walls as he chokes back a groan, and he starts to wonder why he’s even trying to stop you when the damage is surely already done.

“Oh, fuck. Baby,” He groans as he styles for a moment, cherishing the way your silky walls cling to him with no barriers, no limits.

“Fuck me please, Enjin.” You mewl, “I need it.”

And who is he to deny you?

He’s feral, using the harsh grip on your hips to slam you down on his cock. The rough hairs at the base tickle your clit with each downward motion, your slick mattes into it as you soak his length. Drooling down his balls as you cherish the sensation, trying to remember the last time he felt this good.

“So pretty, baby.” He coos, the shlick pap, pap, pap of his hips against yours fill the dingy room as he fucks into you with urgency. His chest heaves as he feels every inch of you pulse around him, coaxing him in and spurning him on as he sets a brutal pace.

It really has been way too fucking long.

Enjin is certain he’s going insane, delirium takes over as he feels you writhe beneath him. Focused on the way your tits bounce with each rough thrust as a feeble ‘oh’ leaves your lips every time he pushes back inside you, like a record stuck on repeat as he drives forward to pull the sound from you.

“You feel so good, Enjin,” You husk, “So fucking deep.”

Every ounce of restraint has left him now, and his balls are dangerously tight already. Throbbing at the prospect of emptying themselves into your warm, drooling heat. But he’s got to be good, he’s got to show restraint. Everything will be fine, he’ll be able to pull out like this and empty his release onto your stomach.

Enjin is certain there’s nothing in this world or all of the Heavens that feels as good as your warm, wet unprotected cunt feels wrapped around his thick cock. He leans down to pull one of your taut nipples between his teeth, lashing his tongue against it as he begins to suck hard. He feels the way your body responds to him, cunt clenching around his cock as more sinful noises slip past your lips.

“Oh my god,” You cry out, you always were so fucking noisy, positive the rest of the compound would be able to hear you “I’m close already.”

Enjin pushes two fingers inside your mouth in a feeble attempt to silence you, pressing down on the pad of your tongue as you pant hard. Closing your lips around them as you suck against his digits, doing nothing but exasperating the throb in his pelvis as he imagines your pretty lips wrapped around his cock.

“Fuck, cum inside me please,” You babble incoherently, drunk on pleasure as the words are muffled by his fingers.

“That ain’t what we agreed.” He practically spits between clenched teeth because how is he supposed to deny you when you sound like that. His cock throbs in agreement with you, and Enjin is certain he’ll have to pull out now before it’s too late. He gives the side of your thigh, just below the swell of your ass a firm spank as you throb around him, “Stop being naughty.”

Enjin’s certain he could do anything to you when you’re like this now. So completely fucked out of your mind, completely intoxicated with arousal. You’d let him cum wherever he pleased without the faintest thought of the dangerous repercussions, burying his cock inside you to kiss your cervix as he douses your pliant walls with his spend. Pulling out to watch it drool from your abused hole before fucking it deeper inside you and filling you again, and again. Until your cunt is stuffed full and drooling with the soppy mixture of your combined releases. Until it all becomes too much and you’re begging for him to stop—

Fuck, he’s got to pull out now or he won’t at all. Enjin’s breath fans your face as he fists the sheets on either side of your head. Leaning his weight off you as he moves his hips back, hissing at the loss of contact.

“Please,” You gasp when you feel him begin to pull out, your thighs tighten around his hips as you lock your ankles behind his ass. Your painted nails dig into his broad shoulders as you cling to him for dear life, even your cunt feels tighter as Enjin chokes back a moan.

“You’re not behaving,” He bites through clenched teeth, hands move to your hips to hold you down in a feeble attempt to make you obey, “You’re being a brat.”

His blunt cockhead brushes your cervix as thick tears clump in your lashes, blinking them back to stare up at him with pleading eyes. Dangerously close to your bliss as you find yourself teetering on the edge of your release.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.” You chant in a dull mantra as your cunt tightens around him, practically trying to milk him of his release as Enjin is positive now your hips will be bruised from how hard he’s gripping to them.

“You said—” He snarls, trying to stop his final string of willpower from snapping.

“I know, I know,” You whine, “But I need it, please.”

How is he supposed to deny you now?

He cants his hips forward, feeling your thighs tighten around him even more as they limit his movement. Barely able to grind against you as the blunt tip of him spears the spongy spot inside you with each rough thrust. He’s losing his mind, he’s certain of it, from how fucked out you look beneath him.

“You need to let go, sweetheart,” He grunts, trying one more time to pull back from your tight cunt, his hands grip your thighs to try to loosen your grip, “I’m fuckin’ close.”

“No!” You tighten your grip in retaliation, shaking your head, “I want it, please—”

You’d sign his death sentence one day, he’s certain of it. Your fingers move down your tummy to rest over your mound as you press sloppy circles into your clit. The tips of your nails catch against the matted hair at his base as he tilts his head to watch your debauched movements, feeling the way you begin to clamp down around him when he knows you’re about to cum.

"Enjin, I'm gonna— I'm cumming,” And you do— you cum hard.

And then he fucking loses it.

“Fuckin’ shit—” Enjin’s hips buck wildly as the last bit of resolve he’s been clinging to crumbles to nothing, “You little minx.”

As soon as he feels your walls begin to clamp down around him, he’s a goner. Eyes roll back into his skull as he spills thick white ropes of cum deep inside your unprotected cunt. His hips buck wildly as he’s lost to the pleasure, your walls eagerly milking him of all he’s got to give as he fucks his spend deeper inside you. Inside your ripe, fertile womb.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, shit.” He snarls, blunt painted nails dig into your hips as he holds you steady, emptying his balls inside you as he coats your insides. Leaning down to press a sloppy kiss to your pouty lips as he gives you every last drop, so much that it leaks down his shaft and balls and onto the sheets beneath you.

“This is your fault.” He groans as your thighs finally go lax, allowing him to slip his softening cock from your pulsing walls as he looks down between your thighs at the mess you made. He refuses to blame himself for this, especially when it’s all your fault.

It’s obscene. The way his cum drools out of your abused hole and trickles down towards your ass, pooling on the sheets between your legs as Enjin wonders how that’s all his. It can’t be, some of it has got to be you too. The creamy rings around the base of his cock evidence of your arousal as he leans down closer to spread your folds open with his thumbs. Watching intently as your stretched hole continues to pulse around nothing as it pushes more of his seed out.

“Enjin, don’t.” Your hips jerk when he presses two slender digits inside your entrance, shamelessly fucking his cum back inside you with his fingers as he scoops some up that drooled down towards your asshole. Next time he’d fuck you there so he doesn’t have to worry about you being all round and plump with his child— not that that would even be the worse thing in the world, he ponders. His spent cock already stirs to life at the thought, half hard and throbbing at the prospect as he settles himself lower. Wrapping his arms around your upper thighs as he presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss to your puffy clit.

“Fuck, I’m too sensitive.” You whine as he tongues your slit, following the trail of your release as he prods it inside your worn hole. Pushing it inside you to scoop out the globs of his release as he sucks it into his mouth, nose bumping your clit as your fingers immediately thread through his messy blond hair.

There’s just so much, he’s definitely going to have to take you to the Doctors the next morning he thinks. Nudging your clit with his nose as he adds a solo finger to join his tongue, scooping as much of his seed from your quivering hole as he can while he works you towards another climax.

“Enjin,” You cry out in bliss, toes curling as you gush around him. Trying to blink back the white spots that cloud your vision as he presses a few more sloppy kisses to your overstimulated sex, thankful that he’s managed to get most of his spend from your weeping hole although he’s certain it’s not enough.

Moving up your body to grip your jaw between his thumb and forefinger as he forces your mouth open, puckering his lips as he spits a mixture of spit and your combined release onto your tongue. Feeling the depraved mixture hit the back of your throat as you swallow it eagerly, tasting him on your tongue as desire begins to swirl in your abdomen once more. Noticing his cock is still half-hard and glistening with your slick as you reach down to wrap your palm around him, but Enjin’s reflexes are quicker as he catches your wrist in one hand.

“Don’t you dare,” He groans, “You’ve already got us into this much of a mess. We’re going to have to go to the Doctors first thing.”

“So,” You practically sing as Enjin flops down onto the worn mattress beside you with a huff, already knowing exactly where this is going, “If we have to go anyway, we might as well make the most of it.”

You’re already shifting beside him to swing your thigh over his hips to settle on top of him with a smug grin. His cock nestled below your warm heat as you drag yourself along the length of him, “Think about the money you’ll save on condoms.”

Yeah, and all the galla wasted on emergency contraception, Enjin groans internally.

Although his thoughts are swiftly forgotten the moment you wrap your hand around the base of him to sink yourself down on him inch by inch. Suddenly he’s not so angry that he got sold a dud condom, not when he feels the way your silky walls cling to every inch of him as you hit the base.

Yeah, it was worth it.

#enjin x reader #Enjin smut #gachiakuta x reader #Gachiakuta smut

[your-regular-toast-enjoyer]

Platonic!Yandere Batman!Damian with new young robin!reader headcannons (extra points if you include uncle Jon and the league somehow)

Platonic! Yandere! Batman! Damian Wayne x Robin! Reader

Damian Wayne x reader. Yandere!Damian Wayne x reader/ Yandere Damian Wayne x Reader

Word count: 5604 words

TW: GN reader, Yandere, manipulation, adult Damian Wayne (based on Batman in Bethlehem), toxic family relations, obsession & Platonic yandere.

Okay, so I imagine that this all occurs at a time when Bruce has resigned and most of the others have moved on in some way, not only leaving Damian as the only one available and willing to take over the Batman cowl, but also making him impossibly alone. Desperate, abandoned and lonely. 

Dick is busy with his life in Blüdhaven, (either married to Barbara or Koriand’r, maybe even with a kid), working primarily as a detective for the Blüdhaven police force. He’s juggling a career, family and, obviously, his vigilante patrols at night, so the time left to visit Damian is minimal. 

Jason still occasionally patrols the streets at night, but he’s mostly out with Starfire and Roy, either playing uncle with Lian/Kori’s possible kid or doing Outlaws missions whenever Chesire/Jade Nguyen pulls herself together enough to take care of her daughter for a while. Jason is too busy getting his own life on track to even start worrying about Damian’s loneliness. 

Tim is probably still in Gotham, although he’s also busy. He’s building his own life as well, either with Bernard or some other girlfriend/boyfriend of his. He’s probably busy renovating an apartment close to the manor, on top of Wayne Enterprise work and vigilante obligations, giving him no free time to come visit for leisure time. Sure, Damian communicates with him over the comms on a daily basis, but it’s not really the same as speaking to someone face to face. Not to mention that shouting orders, descriptions and coordinates probably doesn’t count as a proper conversation.

Alfred is probably dead. I know everyone always jokes that he’s immortal, but even if he was, no one can deal with the Wayne family for more than a single lifetime. So, whether he clocked out naturally or simply, using his all-mighty Alfred powers, just decided to let his life seep out of him like air in a balloon. Alfred is gone.

In Alfed’s place, Bruce has stepped up as a type of off-brand Alfred. He’s retired his superhero alias, and now only has his CEO duties to focus on, which would’ve been a lot for most people, but this is Bruce and to him, it’s too little. So he has learned to cook, hires people to clean the house, make the beds etc. and has, (through observing the best dry cleaners he could possibly hire), learned to wash clothes, attempting to emulate Alfred as some type of coping mechanism for his absence. That doesn’t mean he has the same emotional intelligence as Alfred, it’s still Bruce we’re talking about, but he has the practicalities down. So yeah, Bruce has become an elderly man. But since he still is good old Bruce, that also means that his emotional availability is practically non-existent, made in no way better by the fact that he shut himself in even more after Alfred’s passing and most of his children flying away from the nest. Bruce longs for the old times, longs for the comforting presence of Alfred and the jolly sounds of younger people chit-chatting. Yet, no matter how much Damian might attempt to engage in longer conversations with Bruce, it’s not happening.

If you have a hard time imagining how Damian would look like Batman, think of Batman in Bethlehem. He has exchanged the unhandy cape for the much more practical coat, which not only gives him a more serious appearance but also proves to be a great weapon against the Gotham cold, as well as leaving much more room for gadgets, weapons and, just like his father, a secret compartment for treats. He is a much more menacing and unforgiving Batman compared to his father, never letting a goon get away. He is thorough to the point of near-perfection, which is damn impressive, but it’s also draining on Damian, both physically and emotionally. His father had a horde of Robins, Batgirls and the sporadic extra orphan to aid him in his pursuit for justice, all Damian has is Tim, and occasionally Jason, the latter of which is slowly coming to the realisation that sustaining the same muscle mass as a cow for decades takes a toll on your joints. 

So, even before Damian encounters you, he’s been in the search of someone to make the nightly patrolling of Gotham easier. Damian’s original intention hadn’t been to get a Robin. Actually, he considered “rescuing” an assassin from his mother’s army at the League of Assassins and reprogramming their mind through the various means that had been proven useful in war situations of the past… He did briefly consider asking Dick to contact M’gann for some “healthy” use of mind control. Yeah… Damian is not nearly as morally self-righteous as Bruce, another factor which has driven a wedge between the two.

However, then Damian met you. 

I can imagine that you had recently moved to Gotham, either with your family or alone. You’re probably no older than sixteen at the time of your and Damian's meeting, so if you’re moving to Gotham alone, you’re probably going to be at Gotham academy’s boarding school. But no matter what, you happen to be a huge Batman and, ostensibly, Robin fan. You have posters hung on your wall and photos of you dressing up as Robin when you were younger. It’s not quite Tim Drake-levels of fanboy/girl/person, but you are a bonafide fan.

So, as a fan, you enjoy looking out into the Gotham night, spotting either Red Robin or Batman pass in the air with the wires of their gliders shining in the moonlight. It gives you a sense of safety, knowing that the city has its protectors. Like any other fan, you can’t help but fantasise about how it’d feel to be one of them. How nice it must feel to have the wind hit your cheeks as you zoom through the night sky, and how cool you’d look in one of those fancy superhero suits. 

You have made multiple drawings throughout your youth of yourself as Robin or sometimes even your own made-up hero. You’ll prance around your room alone, listening to music, jumping from your desk chair to your bed to anywhere else with a flat surface, pretending that you’re a vigilante. Heck! I wouldn’t be surprised if you had begged your parents to send you to some type of martial arts as a kid. Begging, praying and practically kissing their feet until they oblige. That is, of course, if you didn’t have parents who had already sent you to karate/Jujitsu/you name it, before you yourself ever came up with that idea. 

I can imagine that the day you and Damian’s ways cross, it’s while he’s out as Batman. For some reason you’ve been left alone to go home/to the academy in the late evening hours, (a recipe for disaster in Gotham). Maybe you had to attend some school-arranged art show/science fair/literature competition and the teachers hadn’t coordinated a way for students to come home/your parents had forgotten that you were out for the night. Whatever it was, you were scared and alone, walking through the streets of Gotham at night. 

As will always happen in Gotham under such circumstances, a large shadowy man emerges from within one of Gotham’s many alleys. He’s neither quiet nor light on his feet, but he is big and the stench of piss, alcohol and decay attacks you before he even has the chance to. You might try to run, but his legs are longer than yours and he reaches you before you get anywhere. Huge grubby hands encase around your collar, heaving you up against a nearby brick wall, the rough texture cutting into the back of your head and back. You might try to use your martial arts knowledge to attempt to fend him off, and you may be successful. However, once you manage to make the man drop you, a swarm of similar-looking men emerge from the nearby alleys, alerted by the noise. They practically lick their lips at the sight of a young and defenceless school student, dumb enough to emerge after dark, it’s practically a Christmas gift for these degenerates. They surround you and you realise that you can’t fight them all, not at once. Your screams for help alert everyone in the neighbourhood, but none will come to your rescue, that’s just how Gotham functions. None…Except for Batman.

Damian hears your scream and within minutes the goons who attempted to attack you are on the floor, heads busted and limbs broken, some scramble away in fear, but end up with Damian’s grappling hook ripping a hole through their legs. The green-eyed Batman is surprisingly efficient, and it takes him no time to get you to safety, scoping you into his arms, as if you weighed less than a feather, and with his grappling hook, he flies through the air to the nearest rooftop. If you hadn’t been so traumatised and shocked by the near-death experience you just had, you might’ve been able to appreciate the experience of literally being saved by your idol. But alas you were, and the shaking of your limbs and rattling of your brain made you wholly unable to connect with reality. 

Damian is patient with you, his glowed hands trace your back as you slowly gather your breath, and once the worst shock is out of your body, he reaches into his breast pocket, where he pulls out a lolly, offering it to you. Now, one should never accept candy from a stranger, but when that stranger is Batman, you can be fairly certain it won’t be tampered with. As such, you accepted the candy with wide burning eyes. Your attempts at slowly peeling away the plastic were a hard-fought battle and Damian had to help you, slowly guiding your hand towards your mouth as you popped the candy into your mouth. The sweetness helped ground you a little, not to mention that it also helped you regain some of your lost powers.

When Damian reckons that you are mentally present again, he prompts you to tell him what happened. With trembling lips, you started to mutter out an answer, about how you had to walk alone because no one was there to get you home safely, how you’d fended one of the men off but then more just came, you almost let a sob slip, but manage to keep it in. Your emotional control and fighting spirit impress Damian, but more importantly, the utter imbecility of the adults in your life makes Damian feel a rage unlike any other.

Damian would take you home in his arms, barging through the front door of either your parents’ apartment or the front door of the academy. He ignores the protest of any adults attempting to stop him, even daring to roughly push them out of the way, as he carries you to your room, following your directions. Once he’s there, he’ll carefully put you on your bed and tug you in like a little kid, no matter your age at the time. He brushes your hair out of your face, (if you have any), and gently swipes your forehead with his thumb. This may seem like inappropriate behaviour for a stranger, but he’s Batman and you’re traumatised and still in shock. It’s his best attempt at calming you down.

Once you’re tugged in, he goes to your guardian, eyes burning with the fury of a thousand suns. He’ll scream his throat dry, reprimanding them for their carelessness, and if you’re living with your parents, he’ll threaten to call CPS on them. He’ll leave the building with a huff and a last warning of revenge should anything similar ever happen again.

It’s after this that Damian has a hard time letting go. He can’t help but constantly fear that you’re being mishandled in some way by your carers. He has nightmares of you in an alley, getting shot like his grandparents or worse… No! It’s so awful that he can’t even bear the thought. These tumultuous emotions will move him to the absolute edge, and to satiate his anxiety, even just a little, he’ll take to stalk look after you. He’ll follow your movements every free minute he has between working at Wayne Enterprises and patrolling the city as Batman, and if you have a bike or pair of shoes you often use, he’ll somehow manage to slip a tracker in there to follow your every move, even when he’s at work or out patrolling. “It’s just to keep them safe”, he’ll tell himself, justifying his actions. But really, whatever his intentions might’ve been in the beginning, they slowly morph into something darker, more possessive. Damian starts to wonder if he might not be a better parent and mentor to you than your real parents. They’re neglectful, he surmises. Either they were the ones who let you walk through Gotham at night, or they simply shipped you off to Gotham Academy, which clearly had no idea how to take care of its students.

Damian might force Bruce to attend his retelling of the night he met you, how he had to follow you around...to ensure your safety, of course! He twists the story and paints your parents as the most horrendous of people, totally disinterested in the well-being of their child, it makes Bruce pity you. Damian suggests that they take you, and make sure that you get a safer environment, with Damian adopting you, in a sense. Bruce isn’t entirely convinced of this, citing that they cannot just kidnap you from your home. However, when Damian mentions how you’re pretty much like Tim, except a better person in every regard, Bruce’s longing for nostalgia slowly creeps back through the cracks. His mind swirls with memories of little Dick, Jason, Tim and even Damian. When was the last time they had a kid, or at least a young person, in the house? It’s been so long that he barely remembers. The house is too big just for two adult men, they could really use someone to spice up the atmosphere. And as such, Bruce is on board… Not that Damian would’ve listened to him if he said otherwise.

  With the decision made that you will become the newest in a long line of adopted Waynes, Damian sets out to get you. He will attempt to make it look natural… like the way Bruce adopted Dick after his parents died… Yeah, wouldn’t it be a shame if all your aunts and uncles suddenly started having issues in their life leaving them incapable of ever taking care of themselves, let alone you if something happened to your parents? 

And wouldn’t it be even more of a shame if… let’s say, after pretty much all adults in your family either died, was run bankrupt or somehow ended up in jail… your parents finally die in a freak accident. Perhaps it’s a car crash due to someone having messed with its tailpipe? Or maybe they went to the cinema, only for the projector to hit them… and only them? It could even just be that while you’re out of the house/at the academy that they suddenly have a carbon monoxide slip in their home, making them silently sleep in the arms of the grim reaper. 

Whatever it is, your parents will mysteriously die, and with no one else in your family able to take you in, the Gotham police department is left at a standstill. If you came from another country than the US, they might talk about sending you back to an orphanage there… anything is better than Gotham… but if you’re American they’ll have no other choice than to start preparations to move you into one of the rat-infested shiteholes calling themselves Gotham orphanages.

Wherever you’re from, you don’t have to wait more than a day before someone unexpectedly shows up at the police station, just as the pitying policemen are trying to help you pack your last stuff into boxes, ready to be sent wherever you need to go. Multi-billionaire, Damian Wayne. Everyone at the station is suspicious about how the green-eyed Wayne heard about the sudden availability of an orphan without any family to go to, but he’s a Wayne, so they’re not surprised… They have a thing for adopting orphans after all. And that’s exactly what Damian proposes!

The broad-shouldered man will bow down to your level, reach out a hand, a gentle smile on his otherwise hardened features, and offer you to join him as his ward. With the horror stories you’ve heard of orphanages combined with the possibility of being adopted by a literal billionaire, you don’t hesitate to accept, albeit reluctantly. Whatever reservations the police may have is waved off by the thought that the Waynes have experience with orphans and they’ll be able to give you a life so much more engaging than anyone else ever possibly could. To most of them, this seems like the perfect ending to your otherwise sad story… If only they knew.

Any legal troubles with adopting you, or if any relative attempts to better themselves to be able to take over your care, will be solved with a wat of cash in someone corruptible’s hands and a slight threat of homicide. To anyone except Damian, the adoption went entirely smoothly and without a hitch.

Once you’re settled in with Damian and Bruce, you’ll come to realise that this life really isn’t all that you expected it to be.  The trauma of your parents’ deaths is still fresh, but Damian expects you to get over it within the first few weeks, he is after all, (in his mind at least), your new “dad/mentor”, you’re not alone…Not like he’s been for the past many years… So why can’t you just settle into your new life with vigour? Or at least not mope around most of the time! 

Bruce is more patient than Damian, he’ll let you open up to him, even if he’s bad with emotions. I can imagine that after the death of your parents, you might develop heavy night terrors, to which Bruce will attempt to calm you by sitting at your bedside until you fall asleep. If you feel especially anxious one night, Bruce will swear that he and Damian will protect you, no matter what. After a while, Damian will take over nightguard duty, realising that he needs to let you open up slowly… or at least not instantly…

Damian might start reading you bedtime stories, even if you’re technically too old for them. His voice is just so calming, its eclectic accent combined with clear brass undertones, both of which remind you of a certain hero… It makes you momentarily forget the fear and despair that came with the death of your parents, so, even if it’s a little infantilising, you appreciate Damian’s presence as you fall asleep, it makes you feel safe. 

If you’ll let him, Damian will trace calming circles on your back while reading, and if you ask him to, he’ll tell you stories from his childhood… the censored versions, he doesn’t want your delicate ears to get hurt by him explaining how he knew a million ways to kill a man before he even turned ten…

You will live a relatively comfortable life with Bruce and Damian for a while, getting introduced to the others whenever they find the time to drop by to meet the new member of the Wayne legacy, as well as getting acquainted with Jon Kent, who, (as Damian’s best friend), demands to be called uncle, despite you not even calling Damian dad… At least not yet. If all this attention on you makes you uncomfortable and feel like a zoo exhibition, Damian will immediately ban everyone except Jon and Tim from visiting for the next long while, even Dick. Tim kinda needs access to the manor for when he and Damian are doing patrol debriefings and Jon refused to not come around, besides he’s so disarming that you’ll probably get used to him quickly… whether or not you end up calling him uncle.

After a while, Damian might come to the conclusion that to truly bond with you he must give you an outlet for your frustrations… And he only knows one way that ever really worked for him… Becoming Robin.

One day, when you come home from school, Damian will command you to follow him in a tone which you had never heard him speak to you with before. It is hard, serious and foreboding, chills will spread up your back and through your fingers, a bad taste will invade the back of your throat and your breaths cut short… What did you do? Was Damian going to throw you back on the path of an orphanage kid? What had you done?

What you did not expect was for Damian to strut up to an old grandfather clock, turning the arrows on the white disk to exactly 10:47. Whether or not you’re the type of person to be easily surprised, there’s no way you wouldn’t be at least a little taken aback when the large clock swung back, revealing the entrance to what looked to be a cave.

You had no context to put it up against and as such your fear took over, making you slowly back away from the hole in the wall that had just been revealed. Damian’s weird behaviour doesn’t make the situation any better either. Really, for you, there’s no telling what’s going on.

Damian notices your hesitation and briefly takes offence until he senses your genuine fear.  “It’s nothing bad, I promise. It’s just a family secret that I trust you enough to know.” He’ll try to reassure you, whether it works or not doesn’t matter, as he picks you up like you weighed nothing and carries you down the metal steps… He doesn’t trust you to not fall and hurt yourself.

Once down in the cave, he’ll reveal to you that he’s Batman, the second one to bear the monicker. He’ll reveal the hero identities of all your “new uncles”, even Jon. All the information that he believes you could possibly need will be loaded onto you in a “brief” thirty minutes monologue. By the end of it, you’re floored… who wouldn’t be? This is probably the last thing anyone would ever consider when moving in with a new family. A bit of your fan behaviour might poke through, as you go from shocked to concerned to almost a little ecstatic… your favourite hero is your adopted father… Wow! The powers above really shone down on you after you had lost everything, huh?

But the pleasant surprises don’t stop there as Damian starts to describe how most Robins lost their birth parents somehow, (with him being the exception), and how most of them worked through this, (not really), by becoming vigilantes. You start to wonder and maybe even hope that he’ll offer the position to you, but multiple times have to remind yourself to stop dreaming, it would be unlikely, right? I mean, you might be able to fight, but not vigilante-level, right? Well… Damian disagrees, and he offers you to become his Robin. In all your star-struck wonder, you fail to see the possessive and obsessive glint in his eyes. You accept on the spot, feeling as if it’s a dream come true.

From then on, your days will be filled with nothing except school, family and Robin training, there’ll simply be no time for friends and going out doing your own thing, and Damian loves it! He believes you’re the safest when you’re within the manor or in his direct line of sight. Anywhere else is dangerous.

Damian will eventually start to suspect the safety of your school…The teachers probably don’t know how to defend you from rogues. Heck! Hey probably don’t even care for your safety! His mind ruminates on the topic for a while, until he decides to let you be homeschooled. He asks around to see if there’re any good private teachers whom he can trust, but there aren’t. None of the people he interviews ever fit his standards: One is too lax, the other too strict, one isn’t clever enough and a fourth doesn’t seem loyal enough. It’s next to impossible to fill out all the demands that the green-eyed Wayne sets up, but there’s one man whom Damian would trust with your education and safety. Bruce… If we’re all being honest, he’s probably a better teacher in all subjects than those who actually studied for the position. It’s actually Bruce’s own idea that he’ll be the one tutoring you, he can work for Wayne enterprises at home, and teach you at the same time, it’s great bonding, and Bruce enjoys your youthful presence so much. It’s a win-win situation for both men… Of course, this will also mean that you’ll become entirely isolated from anyone that isn’t Damian approved. Your social circles are suddenly limited to a bunch of adults, most of whom are vigilantes, hell-bent on keeping others safe… This has the added side-effect of depriving you of anyone who might support your suspicions, should you sound the alarm as Damian puts up more and more safety protocols to keep you out of harm's way.   

With no one else but the family, you become entirely submerged in the vigilante culture and social circles, as you train to become the new Robin. The only people you’ll see on a regular basis will be Damian, grandpa Bruce, uncle Jon and uncle Tim. Perhaps great uncle Clark will semi-regularly swing by with great aunt Lois, but that’s rare, Bruce usually goes to them. You may notice yourself becoming quite dependent on Damian and Bruce’s company and attempt to rebel, this doesn’t fly with Damian. He loves you, but he’s not the most patient of people. He will have no qualms about locking you in your room for hours or even days, only letting you out to do your Robin training.

It’ll take a long time for Damian to let you become a true Robin, he wants to be sure that you’ll be safe and have the skills to defend yourself fully. It wouldn’t even surprise me if you had already reached the age of 18 before you got to actually patrol the city, not that this would change anything, Damian would either pay someone to fake your birth certificate so that you were still his legal ward on paper or maybe just refuse to let you have any more freedom, even if you protest… at that point, he would have had years to manipulate you into being entirely loyal to the family and more specifically him, so I doubt that it’d be a real problem.

Regardless, when he does bestow upon you the right to become Robin, it’ll be the end of a long road. He’ll invite everyone in your immediate social circle to come and celebrate, even some of Bruce’s old colleagues like Hal Gordan and Barry Allen might show up, it’s a big party and it’s all about you. Any fancy dresses or suits you want? it’s yours! The entire house will be decorated in your favourite colours and all your favourite food will be served! At the end of the evening, everyone will be gathered in one of the manor’s large living rooms, and Damian will present you with your very own Robin suit. You’ll be surprised to find that it’s a real-life replica of the ones you had drawn as a child. If you wonder how he got them, Damian will simply say he had found them in the rubbish the day you moved in and he had thought it a shame to throw them out… really he had stolen the drawing from you back when he was still stalking you, having collected the perfect materials throughout your years of training, it had sometimes been a struggle to find fabric that both matched your idea of the costume as well as being practical in a field setting, but he had managed it, and now you had the perfect costume, just the way you’d always wanted it.

Damian is overprotective of you the first many times that you’re out as Robin, to the point where he barely lets you fight, out of fear that you might get hurt. But slowly and with the reassurances of both Tim, Jon and Bruce, he’ll let you fight on your own. His eyes will still always find your form the second he hears a grunt coming from your direction, but he’ll let you handle it unless he deems the situation too dangerous… which he does quite often…

Life will be fine as long as you’re by his side, he’s your Batman and you’re his Robin, and Gotham is delighted by the return of the traffic-cone-themed sidekick. Bruce will look upon you and Damian fondly, and be reminded of good-old times when that was him and Dick, or the beginning of him and Jason… Back before it all got so complicated… which is ironic because the emotions involved in you and Damian’s Batman/Robin partnership are way more complicated, dark and obsessive than any of Bruce’s ever were.

You might wonder why Bruce never opposes Damian’s obvious yandere tendencies, but, in truth, Bruce refuses to see them. After all his sons, (except Damian), moved out, he got too old to be Batman, Alfred died and his entire life practically had to be narrowed down to Wayne Enterprises and occasional visits from his boys, (most of whom he was estranged from), Bruce had lost his spark, his reason to wake up in the morning. However, when you arrived, an entirely new chapter of his life opened up. He no longer felt like he was riding through the last fourth of his life without any meaning. No, with you there, he now had the responsibilities of a grandfather! He had someone to live for and to tell his near-endless anecdotes to! Your sudden appearance in his life saved him, and as such, he couldn’t even begin to let himself see the cracks in the happy facade he depended on to keep his life going. To him, you were all a happy and healthy family, three generations: Father, son and grandchild. And no one could take that away from him, he refused.

As you grow up, still living with Damian and Bruce, switching between the two identities of Robin and y/n, the wealthy socialite, adopted by Damian Wayne, you might start to consider whether you should create something of your own, instead of just living a life that Damian created for you. You might look at photos of the old Teen Titans and Young Justice, all hung throughout the halls of Wayne manor, and think to yourself, “maybe I could do something like that too”.

If you verbalise this idea to Damian, he’ll stop whatever he’s doing, his eyes widening with fear and rage. “You want to leave us?! After everything we’ve done for you?!” You can try your best to explain that you just want to become your own person, but Damian will hear non of it. He becomes frantic and angry, making you sit and listen to him rant about how dangerous it can be for a bunch of sidekicks, not even fully-fledged heroes, to just team up and battle it out. He’ll list to you all the most horrific incidents that happened in both Teen Titans and Young Justice, the people that got permanently, the people that got seriously maimed and those who died horrifically. At the end of his hours-long rant, he’d have instilled sufficient anxiety within you to turn you off to that idea.

After your suggestion, though, Damian might realise that you could be in need of a friend around your age. He doesn’t like the idea, a mix of both jealousy and the fear that they won’t protect you makes him reluctant to seek out some of the other sidekicks, but for you and your mental well-being, he’ll do anything. So he finds a sidekick, it could be Jon’s… actually, it’s most likely Jon’s sidekick, I can’t really see him trusting anyone else. But he’ll go up to them and practically demand that they befriend you. If they’re anything like Jon, and I can imagine that they are, they’ll accept with a big smile.

You may have a hard time befriending Jon’s sidekick, especially if your personalities aren’t compatible, however, they’re the only other person around your age you have, so you’ll have to make do. Eventually becoming best friends, even if you can’t stand them.

Any other need you could possibly have, Damian will always find a way to satiate it without ever giving you your freedom. It’ll be the most infuriating game of pulling rope, he’ll always give in to your demands, but in a way that just further cements your inability to escape him.

Damian will never let you go, not as long as he lives. If you try to get married… hah! No. Not happening. If you wanna go to university, he’ll hire tutors to come to your home. You’re never escaping and Damian isn’t coy about showing his possessiveness and platonic obsession with you. You’re his kid, even if you refuse. Really, you should have just stayed home that fateful night when you met, because now you’re stuck as Damian’s Robin, forever.

A/N: Yes, you can just ignore this, it's mostly for the user who sent in the request.

Thank you for this idea! I hope you like what I did with it!

I'm really sorry that these take so long to come out lately, but I have my final exams in a little over a month, (they start on the 1st of May), so I'm in a pretty tight spot for time recently, I'll obviously become more productive when they're all done, and I do also have another full one shot of Damian in the works. For the anon who requested this, I would just like to say, you had a wonderful idea, and I hope I did it justice, it didn't really go where I had originally intended it to, but I hope that this is what you might've preferred either way.

#damian wayne x reader #yandere damian wayne #yandere damian wayne x reader #yandere x reader #batman #yandere batboys #yandere dc #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you

[princessprettyprivilege]

Leveling Up Past Your Insecure &/or Pick Me Family

Guess what? Your family will always move the goalpost until they benefit from or experience what you seek. This is mostly for women who are unable to move out, too young (18+), and cannot afford to distance themselves for sanity, causing a power struggle or an uncomfortable house.

For some of you, if you absorbed every bit of advice your family or friends gave you, you wouldn’t be on this page, still pick me-ish, unmotivated, just not where you saw yourself being. Throw your hands up to their woes and tune them OUT. If I listened to bad advice, I would’ve been on the couch all summer with Cheetos, in bed all day, a pick me arguing with a trash bf and masculine minded.

Stop it right now telling anyone other than you and trusted people your goals. The goalpost will be moved by insecure people. People who constantly use “but I don’t”, “but I didn’t” will trip you up and leave you confused on your ass. Just because they may seem like authority from age and experience, it doesn’t mean they’re smarter than you.

Toxic, dysfunctional and generally unhappy people will use your goals and standards against you until their last sunset.

Everyone tells you to move in silence to the point it sounds cliche, but it’s pertinent to remember to shut your mouth because your wishes and new routines will not be appreciated or admired unless it benefits THEM.

Don’t EVER give up a dime of your profit from leveling up because you feel forced or encouraged to. Negative, tacky low esteem people will always move the goalpost and have their hand out for more. Giving away money only benefits the person taking it since there was no service done in your benefit.

🚨 If your purpose for leveling up is to become Captain Save-A-Hoe, LEAVE. I am NOT doing that. You’re going back to being a pick me and square 1 by submitting to family who may wish for you to do well, but to their level. At a point, getting a job will be less thankless than leveling up to give your family money.🚨

This is very different from taking care of incapacitated people, the elderly, ill or people who CANNOT work, and people who require constant care or children because they cannot help themselves. Don’t misconstrue my words on purpose.

Do not be a slave to able bodied, competent people because they will use and abuse your kindness. Do not give to family or friends with frivolous spending habits. It’s “fine” to share with able bodied others, but that shouldn’t be your overall goal. Pour well into your cup before others.

Check your family if you cannot leave. Negative people will always move the goalpost, whether you appeal to them or not, and your appeal will not be appreciated.

Check them like a Nike shoe. I was taken aback when I was told I should’ve exercised early in the summer to look better before school, BUT when I began walking 4mi a day a few weeks before school, I’m told 4mi is TOO MUCH and SO UNNECESSARY for a young person! You need to eat more instead! Like wtf?? You can verify yourself that 10k steps a day is acceptable, and once I did what I said, it was suddenly unnecessary.

Now that my legs look great and I normally walk a lot, I’ll tell someone who wishes for my leg tone that I despise their attitude, it makes me gag b/c I told & shown what I do. Leading by example and not reflecting their attitude back is a cleaner way of checking attitudes.

Give them the exact treatment back if you dare, but not by stooping their level, or let them grovel until they realize they don’t make sense. Another option is to be altruistic and give advice but that’s the very last resort since it can backfire. Lead by EXAMPLE.

Stay 2-3 steps ahead of criticism and let your confidence shine.

If you always share your plans, the goalpost moves and you’ll never measure up.

Contrary to popular belief, don’t pummel your family when they are down because you and your feedback will be remembered and referenced to in the future.

Don’t move the goalpost on them, this method does not progress anyone. It’s not what you say or how you said it, it’s how you made them feel. Also, they might not see it as an insult like you do and as a way you’re coming back to your “roots”.

Lastly, some may be more empathetic to your plight and respectfully disagree or be open to learning from observation.

Maximize the pretty, not stress!!! 💖

#pretty privilege notes personal #princesskhalyiah #femininity #high maintenance #pretty privilege #high standards #levelup #pretty privilege tips #leveling up #femininity tips

[project-sekai-facts]

Is it me or are the new outfits simpler? Like old ones had a lot of tiny useless details all around, the new ones look "cleaner" in comparison. It's not bad I kinda like it but it definitely feels weird

Before we start I just wanna say that I kinda critically analysed the costume designs instead of you know. just talking about the details. cool here we go

Yeah aside from VBS they all feel so. Plain, I guess? MMJ’s outfits probably the worst instance, imo they felt more same-y than before and I get they’re an idol unit so they were gonna be uniform but there’s something off. It’s the blue, I get that it’s probably a nod to the blue penlights, but using green or their respective image colors would’ve been better I think. You can barely even see Haruka or Shizuku's image colors on the skirts. Honestly I don’t think the accessories are that bad, they’re pretty cute and fit the group, though the costume being so plain outside of them just makes it look like there should be more. the thing is the outfits aren't the same, they have different skirts and shirts like the original it's just the fact that they all have the same color scheme and similar-enough accessories that it makes the differences less noticable. their image colors should've been the primary or secondary color not the tertiary color.

Leo/need I can get being more uniform, it goes with their whole thing, and I liked how there’s still a lot of details to differentiate them and give them personality. Honestly their original color scheme was pretty basic but making their image colors the secondary colors instead of of the primary colors of their outfit? it just wasn't it. honestly it wouldn't be too bad if the grey wasn't such an ugly color it looks really bad. if they'd gone with black or a much darker grey for the blazers it would've looked so much better and made the accents stand out more. also, the lack of accessories... i get they're more "professional and mature" but their outfits are quite boring, especially next to Miku's. If all of them had a big star armband like Honami or even had a bigger star buckle anywhere (like on a belt) it would look a bit nicer.

WxS was an improvement from Leo/need maybe? The outfits are definitely the most detailed so far, and they had a lot of personality. I like that they kept the original theme of character types (Rui being a villain, Nene being a fairy, etc), and it's not hard to tell what role each of them are meant to be (except emu but it wasn't obvious what hers was in the first place). I think Tsukasa's fits his personality quite well; he plays hero roles so he has a prince sort of outfit, he's the leader so he's got the sash, and he usually dresses very smart. it's very plain though, definitely could've done with brighter colors on the accessories, and maybe keeping the belt charm. also the jacket and trousers being the same color without much to separate them and balance it out doesn't look great. emu and nene's are both better, the color palettes are really nice and their outfits aren't plain holy shit. Emu's fits her personality really well - just by looking you can tell she's a fun and positive person. Rui's is probably the one i'd say is best out of the bunch. I know we can't see the front but the asymmetry and use of black in the color palette makes it stand out a lot and really adds something that the others were lacking. it's a very good villain outfit as well.

N25's were simple, but managed to actually pull it off. they didn't feel really plain compared to some of the other units despite actually being pretty plain. their outfits were always dark, and that hasn't changed, but making the colors more murky adds an extra layer to it. the addition of the flower patterns really adds something to take away the plainess of the original outfits, as well as adding relevant symbolism. Mafuyu's especially stands out being the lightest color and being the most ragged. It tells you she's different, she appears bright and perfect at first, but when you look further down, she's damaged. The image colors could've done with being a bit brighter maybe but other than that these are pretty good.

VBS outfits are actually really good. There I said it. They're able to feel cohesive as a group while still managing to reflect the individuality of each members and not be plain. The outfits fit their personal styles really well, Kohane's more girly, An's more cool and mature, Akito's sporty and active and Toya's more smart but still has the street look. Despite their outfits looking totally different, you can tell they're a unit because of the reddish-pink accents on all their outfits and also using white as a unifying color. i know i complained about the white making the other outfits plain but it's far more balanced out here and isn't as in-your-face. it isn't like MMJ and WxS that have white as their main outfit color. With VBS it's just one white item of clothing: Kohane's sweater, An's cargos, Akito's hoodie and Toya's tshirt. it's incorporated in a very natural way and isn't overly prominent. their image colors and other colors are used just as much in the outfits to balance it out. they have the best balance undoubtedly. even the accessories, they aren't big and there's not a whole lot of them, but the outfits already have a lot going on so they don't need to be complex, they're just there to add something extra.

There’s too much white.

#asks #mod talks #sorry

[shujiology]

☆༻ Daddy? No... Mommy ༺☆༻

Pro Hero!Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Your fiancé, Katsuki, oddly reminds you of your mother in the most bizarre way possible.

Warnings: crack(?), swearing, mild innuendos, mentions of the reader having a mother that acts very much like the typical (Asian?) mom. For the record I'm Asian... pls don't come for me

A.N: I’m on BNHA brainrot lately, so I puked this out in the midst of my finals. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You know how mothers wake up super early in the morning and start washing the dishes and cleaning the house super loudly? Banging the vacuum cleaner into every single nook and cranny in a passive-aggressive manner in an attempt to wake you up?

Well, that’s how Katsuki is with you.

In your defense, you don’t even wake up all that late. You may even consider yourself an early bird. Still, compared to someone who goes to bed at precisely 8 PM, he wakes up way before the sun even peeks over the horizon (but that’s beside the point).

Every morning, your fiancé would slide out of your shared bed to brush his teeth, shower, get dressed, and get started on some of the house chores. All of that you can deal with just fine– you’d find it helpful even.

What you absolutely can NOT tolerate was that he would make it a mission to do all these menial tasks whilst being as deafening as possible like he’s got some kind of personal vendetta against you.

However, you’ve always known him to be a rather loud and brass individual, so you don't put it against him at all at first. One night you did end up having trouble sleeping, so when the inevitable sound of pans clanging against each other invaded your slumber, you couldn’t help but get a little irritated– regardless, you tried to keep a level-head, and told him to quiet down next time.

“The neighbors might hear and complain” you reasoned, to which he replied, in a classical Bakugou Katsuki fashion: “To hell with the neighbors!” 

It still hadn’t bothered you much at that point. Until it eventually dawned on you that he was doing it on purpose. You hadn’t even noticed until you heard him muttering under his breath one time as he vacuumed the bedroom floor, practically ramming the end of it to the bedroom wall.

“I have to do EVERYTHING myself around here…”

Immediately, your eyes shot open. That attitude of his hit WAY too close to home for you to ignore. 

It reminded you of how your mother would complain all day about how absolutely no one in the house would help her do the chores as she goes and cleans the house. 

It reminded you of how she’d wake up at the break of dawn every single day and FOR SOME REASON decided that the entire world needed to know what she was doing. She absolutely will NOT stop until every single person in the house is awake– neither will your Katsuki.

Suddenly all of his sour “Finally, you’re awake”s make sense to you. The passive-aggressiveness was as clear as day now.

To say the least, this knowledge you’d just discovered left a bitter taste in your mouth. So, out of your own volition (and pettiness…), you waited… and waited… until the clock struck 4, and outside, the sun has barely yet risen from the sky.

You start doing YOUR list of chores as loud as possible. 

A mischievous smile stretched across your face when you hear the angry stomps coming down the stairs and finally into the kitchen of your shared apartment.

“Jesus woman! Can you be any louder?! Have you any idea what time it is?!”

“Oh finally you’re awake” you mock his tone of voice without batting an eye at him. “Are you being smart with me?” he retorted. And here you thought he couldn’t sound more like a mother.

You could’ve sworn he sounded more like a mother than both your mothers combined.

“Baby, don’t you have work early today?” you inquired innocently. “Why don’t you go back to sleep for a little bit? Breakfast would be ready by the time you get up, I promise” you finish sweetly, and you can see his anger melting away at the softness of your voice.

The moment would’ve been tender if not for the fact that you were actively trying to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Katsuki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to contemplate your suggestion or to stay and say something else– he chose the latter.

“How am I supposed to sleep when you’re being so goddamn loud?” normally he’d be a lot more livid, but you’ve come to realize that the older he gets, the more he starts to mellow out… as mellow as Bakugou Katsuki can get at least…

Plus he’s had a very long day at work yesterday, not to mention he was held back for a while so he had to come home later than usual last night. It almost makes you feel guilty for doing this to him, but you were already far too deep to turn back now anyway and you needed to prove a point.

“I don’t know… you tell me… how am I supposed to sleep when you’re being so loud every morning... mom?” 

That’s when it finally hit him…

Perhaps you should count yourself lucky that you decided to do this on a day when he’s particularly worn out. Otherwise, he might just serve you up on a silver platter to eat for breakfast… and I don’t mean that in a pleasant way– but regardless, you smile cheekily as you see the irritation grow within him.

“You insufferable brat…” he said, barely whispering. He took slow sluggish steps towards you before wrapping his arm around your middle and pulled you closer until your back presses flush against his sturdy front.

God, you simultaneously hate it and love it when he's tired.

On one hand you feel bad for him when he pushes himself to the point of exhaustion, on the other hand you love how much more cuddly and soft he becomes when he's tired.

“Did you really have to wake us up THIS early just to prove a point?” he asked, almost in disbelief. Your response to him was simple, short, and genuine…

“Oh I haven’t slept…”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki imagine #bnha imagines #mha x reader #mha imagines #anime x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader

[letters-unsending]

No. 24 Part 2.

////

Part one:

////

“Oh, you’re here.”

“You invited me.” Hero grinned. His lip was busted and a bandage was pasted over his temple and cheek.

“Well, yes.” Villain retreated from the doorway and motioned Hero in. “But that was weeks ago and I didn’t plan for a siege to happen beforehand and for you to fight in it. I would’ve understood if you couldn’t make it.”

Siege or not, Villain hadn’t expected him to come. After taking Superhero’s mentorship, Hero was carted off to some secret training facility and his belongings were removed by one of the faculty. Villain had to peel his posters from the wall though. He’d also scrubbed away ash stains from Hero’s accidental fires and pilfered the books Hero had shoved underneath his desk to keep it steady.

Part of him was glad Hero had left, so swiftly, so silently. No goodbyes. Villain had been able to tell Supervillain that Hero was no longer fond of him and Superhero allowed Villain to direct his manipulations elsewhere.

However, when he’d purchased a new apartment, he’d decided to set up a housewarming party. He invited Hero because it seemed right—they’d shared a dormitory for a year after all. A few of his new projects, a small group of heroes-in-training and sidekicks, had shown up earlier in the evening. He’d ordered in some food and was given plants, pans and toiletries in return. It’d been a fairly successful night of rubbing elbows and collecting intel.

But Hero stood before him now, cleaner than he’d looked on the TV hours before, clawing through opposition at Superhero’s flank. He still smelled like smoke and cracked cement, and he wandered in with a waver in his step.

“I’m not really supposed to be here.” Hero peeked around the living room, surveying the vintage Superhero prints and magazine covers Villain had pinned up over his couch. “They didn’t let me contact you. I was barely able to text my mom before I left for the training center.”

Villain swallowed, dry. He tasted the lingering stain of coffee on his teeth. “I figured. I knew you had more important things to do.”

“You were always prepared for me to go though.” Hero turned around and smiled at Villain. “You pushed me toward connections and interviews. You helped me with my tests and applications.”

“You were meant for more.” Villain eyed Hero where he stood, backdropped by generations of Superheroes and his ribs ached. “I knew that. Anyone who saw you would’ve known it too.”

Hero sighed and ran a hand through his ragged hair. “You’re always so practical.”

“I like to be realistic.” Villain neared the couch and studied Hero. He’d been gone for seven months, but he’d already changed so much: his shoulders hung stiff; his jaw ticked; his eyes were wild and weary. The attacks over the last few days no doubt added to the weight held in his posture. He oscillated between stillness and shivering anxiety—coiling, uncoiling.

Hero froze as Villain waved a hand to sit. He let Villain grow nearer, till he was no more than a pace away, and then reached, tugging Villain forward by the elbow.

“I missed you.”

“Oh,” Villain breathed, “okay.”

“[Villain].” Hero flexed his hand and set it over Villain’s shoulder. “You’re acting like I’ve left you behind.”

“You have the opportunity to make powerful alliances. There is no reason for you to hang onto past…acquaintances.” Villain looked up, at the wobbling line of Hero’s jaw, at the churning tendons in his neck. “I don’t want to hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back.” Hero denied. “[Villain], you’re not just some stepping stone. You inspired me. You made believe that I could do something great.”

“Anyone would’ve done what I did. And you would’ve been able to succeed, with or without my help.”

“But you did it. You were with me.” Hero’s voice cracked. “I’m not a fucking prick. I’m not going to leave people behind just because there are opportunities somewhere else.”

Villain closed his eyes as they burned. Hero had been an opportunity for him, something to use. His hand shifted in his pocket as he turned Supervillain’s recorder off.

“I missed you too.”

And Hero reeled him in. Villain sighed. Hero sighed and rested his cheek against Villain’s hair, breathing slowly, running a tentative hand down Villain’s side.

“Nice apartment, by the way.” Hero glanced over Villain’s head, toward the cabinet beside the couch. There were pictures of superheroes set up there too, framed and sorted by decade, and a few shots of the city scenery.

At the front though, there was a picture of them. They had their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders. Villain was reading a new magazine, leaning into Hero, and smiling as he pointed out a section to him.

Sidekick had snapped the picture and Villain had chased after him once he heard the click. Hero had thought he’d forced Sidekick to delete it.

With a more confident grasp, Hero squeezed Villain’s shoulders, and hid a grin into his temple. “You been doing alright?”

“I’ve been fine.” Villain clutched him back and stared at the blinking light in the corner of room. “I’ve had a few people looking out for me.”

#writeblr #villain #writing prompt #hero #prompt #villain prompt #writing #hero prompt #hero x villain #drabble

[strikersexhaver]

i think i got the go signal to request something more angsty? so here's my little request..

striker's S/O can't call striker while he's on a job right? what if they did and accidentally risked themselves getting tracked?

maybe happening after the job to kill stolas again, which he failed, let's say stella didn't approve of his second slip-up and possibly risking herself getting it out to the public about the attempt, leading to her getting furious at striker and instead wanting him dead for it.

(like the first episode where he got introduced and his whole get-up and all at the end of that episode where he's on call with stella type of thing?)

he's on call with her while she's literally threatening him, and then suddenly his S/O calls at that really horrible time and he accidentally answered it and the reader blabbing about being sorry for calling him but they just really badly miss him to which stella hears and continues to threaten to kill them next if he keeps fucking up.

how would striker feel and what'd he do now?

THE REST IS UP TO YOU LOVES! sorry this is kinda long.. but tysm!!💕

(A/N) I love this request oh my god, it is so interesting it’s insane- I genuinely think if Striker had an S/O this would 100% happen at this time in the show! This was super fun to write and honestly- I wouldn’t mind making a part two to this or something like that!

Wrong place, and wrong time… 🦢 🗡️

Striker messed up, big this time- not only did he fumble the bag he also had an annoying Goetia Swan squawking at how much he failed so… Adding more pain to the blow.

“You had ONE job! ONE! I even made the job easier for you and simply asked you to bring him back to me!” Stella yelled, her voice breaking the microphone of the motel phone.

He had to turn down the volume from how loud she was, but it showed how badly he pissed her off.

Even though he disagreed, he could’ve killed Stolas if not only she didn’t request to torture him THEN kill him. This job would’ve been easier- plus, it would’ve been cleaner if she had him not attack him in a PUBLIC RESTAURANT.

She kept yelling at him on how regretful he should be, how bad he failed, and etc- he was expecting this when he failed to the M&M’s

He sighed, practically tuning her out- only to hear another ring but from his burner phone. He was confused, because the only person he gave the phone number to was Stella, maybe a few other clients but…

While Stella kept yapping her mouth, he accepted the call then sighed, scratching his temple before saying-

“Bad time Rogue, I ain’t got-“

“Striker, I’m so sorry I called I just missed you, and it’s been such a while since I heard from you and I didn’t know if you died or anythin-“

His eyes widened, it was you- how did you get his number? Most importantly, why did you go against his one request to not call him during a job? But he couldn’t blame you because he had been away for a long time.

He tried calming you down as you sounded genuinely upset on the phone, like you were breaking down.

“Darlin’, Darlin’, listen to me- breath in- breath out- “ he said in a calming voice, trying to be as comforting as possible.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“ you kept going sobbing on the phone.

“It’s okay darlin’, just calm down- I’ll be home soon..” he spent the next few minutes trying to calm you down, and reassure you- he admittedly was mad at you for it but that’s for a different time. Even though, if only this was at a different time too.

Stella stopped yelling and listened in, she panted then kept quiet to hear.

She looked around, then had an idea brew in her head, a smirk formed on her mouth.

“Striker,” she started, “I’ll give you one last chance, ONE LAST CHANCE! If you fail this time I’ll make sure to get someone who can do what you can’t, finish the job! But not on Stolas on your pathetic little bitch whining like a damn child!” She hung up and left it like that, feeling more than too proud of herself.

Striker paused, stopping himself from even speaking a single word.

A ringing was in his ears, as the only color he saw was red.

He grabbed the phone Stella was on and tossed it to the wall, it smashing into pieces. He had a angry rattle in his tail and the sound of a snake warning it’s prey; hissed throughout the room.

In a fit of rage he tore off the window’s covering and ripped the sheets of the bed into shreds.

Before panting and tuning back in to hear you calling out for him, concerned and scared with all the noises he created.

“…Striker?”

“Darlin’ pack your shit’ and meet me at our hangout, now,” he tried to seem softer but it came off much more aggressive and serious.

“Wh-what?”

“Pack your shit and go now,” he hung up on you.

He was serious, you could tell, without hesitation you got up and started packing your bags and things from your shared home.

He needed to cool down during this time, he was angry mostly at Stella but he couldn’t help but feel angry at you. Even if you had good intentions, he never lets you call him to protect you and only you.

Now you’re in danger, and there’s probably nothing he could about it- besides killing off two birds with one stone…

#striker #striker helluva boss #helluva boss #striker x reader #striker x reader helluva boss #helluva boss striker #striker / reader #striker and reader #striker x y/n #striker x oc

[melodygatesauthor]

The Best Barista in the First Order

Kylo Ren X f!Reader

Part 8 of 28 in the February Fluff and Fuck 2023 Challenge

Day 8 Prompt - Coffee Shop AU (not an AU, takes place in SW universe)

Summary: The Supreme Leader is very particular about many things, and his morning coffee is no exception. Even more, he is very particular about the barista who brings him his coffee every morning, and isn't happy when he hears she is transferred to a different position on his ship.

Tags/Warnings: SFW, soft!Kylo, no smut, fluff, Kylo is protective, Kylo Ren in love, cute, sweet, coffee shop is more like a kitchen on the Finalizer and Reader works in it making coffee in the morning.

Word Count: 2.7k

You were standing in front of the doors to the command center. No matter how many times you’d brought the breakfast orders to the First Order elites, including Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, your nerves never ceased to force your body to tremble.

You walked in through the double doors when they opened, rolling your cart containing drink orders along with various pastries and muffins. You moved slowly, careful not to spill anything, and parked your cart to the side. You picked up the tray containing mugs filled with specific and preferred morning beverages. General Enrich Pryde was there, awaiting his tea. You brought it over and handed it to him. Most of the time they all pretended that you didn’t exist, and that was the way you liked it. You were a lowly kitchen worker, only there to deliver their food and drink, and then be on your way.

You walked over to your cart once again, grabbing the Supreme Leader’s cup. You’d already made a mistake, not bringing his order to him first, but that didn’t seem to be a problem. At least, no one said anything. As long as you didn’t bring attention to yourself, you would remain invisible.

You wouldn’t be invisible today though, today you were going to make a scene. Today you were going to be noticed, and grab the attention of everyone in the room. There was no telling what you tripped over. It wasn’t a shoelace, your shoe didn’t even have laces. It wasn’t your pant leg, and the floor was flat as could be. It was simply the wonderful grace of the Maker, forcing you to fall forward, flinging the Supreme Leader’s coffee hurdling at the floor in front of his feet.

The one thing you could be grateful for, was that it didn’t land anywhere on him. If it had burned him, you knew he would’ve removed your head where you lay on the floor. Panic ran through you. The only thing you could think to do was rush over on all fours and beg for forgiveness. You scurried, slamming your palms into the ground and nearly bruising your knees with how quickly you moved to him.

“Supreme Leader, sir, I am so sorry.” You said, keeping your eyes on the floor at the coffee you’d spilled there. “It was an accident I-”

“Look at me.” He demanded, surprising you.

You raised your head, meeting your gaze to the void of the mask where you knew his eyes were. He tilted his head to the side slightly. His shoulders rose and fell with each breath. He was much bigger from the floor than he seemed normally. You felt your breathing stop, and the entire room seemed to go silent. You were sure they were all waiting for you to lose your head right there in the command center.

“What is your name?” He asked.

“...” You told him.

He stood up, increasing his height over you tenfold. He held out a hand and Forced you to your feet. You clasped your fingers together nervously when he released you. You let out a breath you’d been holding in for a while. A stray tear found its way down your cheek and you felt frustrated by it. You weren’t brave in the slightest, and you wished you could be.

“Someone get the cleaners in here. You…” He pointed at you, “bring me another cup.”

You nodded, grateful to be walking away with your life, “yes, Supreme Leader.”

You didn’t waste any time rushing out of the room to comply with his demand. A very small part of you considered leaving the First Order, afraid that maybe Kylo Ren would reconsider letting you live and behead you when he next saw you, but you knew that would be a mistake in itself. The entire trip down in the elevator was spent focusing on normalizing your breathing. You’d never been that close to death before.

It wasn’t the first slip up you’d made, but it was the first time you’d done it right in front of Kylo Ren, and so noticeably. After the long trip back to the kitchen, your boss was busy working on prepping lunch already.

Being a kitchen worker on board the Finalizer was difficult. You were busy from the moment you woke, to the moment you turned in for bed, and there was little time for leisure. Everything was on a strict schedule. Coffees went up in the morning, along with a cart with food. Then you prepped for lunch, and later you would bring the lunch orders and clean up the breakfast. Spilling the coffee really hindered the schedule, and you hoped your boss wouldn’t be too angry to see you making the Supreme Leader’s order once again.

Your hope fell flat as he approached you, stern-faced, “what are you doing?”

“Um, I spilled the Supreme Leader’s coffee.” You explained, starting to brew a new cup.

“You what?” He asked harshly.

You felt your cheeks heat from embarrassment.

“It was an accident.” You explained through your shaking voice.

“Enough.” He said, pulling the bag of coffee beans from your hands. “You’re done.”

“Excuse me?” You asked, feeling yourself becoming emotional. “I can’t be done, this is my job!” You shouldn’t have been raising your voice, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“This is not your first time slipping up like that, and this time you spilled the Supreme Leader’s coffee?” He scoffed, “you’re lucky to still be alive! No, we can’t have that. Maybe you can polish helmets or iron clothes.” He waved you off, “best of luck.”

Your mouth was stuck agape while you looked at him. You couldn’t believe that you were losing the position you’d had over the last three years on the Finalizer, all for spilling a single coffee. What was worse, was that it wasn’t even up for debate. You couldn’t try and negotiate, or say anything that would change his mind, you were just done.

“Fine.” You pulled your apron over your head, threw it on the floor and walked out.

Crying was pointless, it wasn’t going to get you your job back, but you did it anyway. You knew you could find something else to do. Your friend was head of one of the cleaning departments and she would, no doubt, be able to find you a job there, they were always looking for new people. It didn’t change the fact that you would rather work in the kitchen though.

There was something about waking up every morning, brewing coffee to the exact specifications of each person, and then having the honor of delivering their drinks. Even if they didn’t always show their appreciation, you knew even the most stern elites, like General Pryde, felt a little bit better when he had a nice, warm cup of tea in his hands, and it was all thanks to you.

You waited outside of your friend’s room for her shift to be over and for her to come back and see you. She was surprised to find you standing there, but when she saw your clearly distraught face, she wasted no time hugging you tightly.

“Hey Kass.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What happened?” She asked, furrowing her brow.

You shrugged, “spilled a little coffee next to Kylo Ren and my boss wasn’t a fan I guess. I mean, it’s not like I did it on purpose.” You sighed. “It just sucks, I liked working in the kitchen.”

“Well, you can always come work for me, you know that.” She patted your back.

“Yeah, I mean, if I don’t find something to do they’ll deem me worthless, which…” Your eyes went wide, “I don’t want to know what happens to those people.”

The people deemed worthless in the First Order often disappeared. If you stopped working, then you couldn’t contribute to the greater good, and therefore you needed to be disposed of. You couldn’t let that happen.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, I’ll set you up tomorrow.” She hugged you again. “Why don’t you get some rest, meet at the utility room 0101-B, first thing and I’ll get you started.”

“Alright, thanks Kass.” You said, leaving her and heading to your own room.

Sleep didn’t come easily. You kept thinking about how mad the Supreme Leader must’ve been. You were glad he always wore a mask, afraid to think about what his face must’ve looked like when you spilled the coffee. One thing about the interaction with him stood out to you though…he’d asked you for your name. The more you considered it, the more you realized how strange it was that he would even ask you that. He had never asked you before, and he didn’t seem to care about most of the lowly employees of the Finalizer.

Those thoughts, and the nerves surrounding what your new job would be like in the morning, filled your mind and made it hard to finally doze off.

When you woke up, you felt as uneasy as you had when you’d gone to bed the night before. Already you were thinking about how lucky you were to escape death the day before, and how little you knew about being a cleaner.

After washing yourself and getting dressed, you finally left your room. When you made it to utility room 0101-B, Kass was already there, smiling when you walked through the door.

“Hey girlfriend, ready for your first day?” She asked, all too bubbly for your taste.

Kass had always been such a peppy type of person, and while you tried to be that way, it didn’t come easy to you. You often had to try hard to put on an excited face around others. Social situations weren’t your strong suit.

“Yeah, ready as I’ll ever be.” You sighed.

“So, you’re not going to like this, but apparently the Supreme Leader is in a…well he’s in a mood, and he broke something in the command center and you gotta go clean it up.” She motioned to the cart by the door. “That’s your cart.”

“What? Shouldn’t someone who’s been doing this longer be the one cleaning up after him?” You asked, feeling suddenly even more anxious than before.

You really might die now. You were certain that he never would want to see you again, not after you spilled his coffee the day prior.

“Part of being new is getting to do the jobs that no one else wants to do, I’m sorry.” She shrugged.

“No one’s going to show me what to do? No training?” You asked, trudging over to your cart.

“For cleaning? I know for a fact they teach you how to clean in the kitchens. Go on, you’ll be fine!” She insisted, ushering you out the door. “You get a one hour break at noon, and then you’re finished at five.”

You groaned and thanked her again for at least giving you a job. There was a chance you wouldn’t even run into the Supreme Leader. He was a busy man and couldn’t possibly spend his entire day in the command center. Surely he might be doing something else at that time. Afterall, you’d brought him his coffee on several occasions and in several different rooms. One time you even were summoned to his bedroom to put some food and drink by his bedside.

You wouldn’t be so lucky today though, he was there, and his back was to you while he spoke to the crew, voice booming through the room. He didn’t even turn while you started cleaning up the broken bits of electrical equipment scattered on the floor. You imagined that cleaning up after Kylo Ren’s tantrums must get exhausting to do day in and day out. The person who was new before you must’ve been relieved when they heard they were getting a break today.

“Sir, we will be approaching Jakku soon.” One of the pilots said at the control panel.

“Good. Ready my-”

You were so focused on cleaning you didn’t realize that the room had gone silent right away. Eventually you looked up, meeting the void of the black mask that had the Supreme Leader behind it. You gulped, feeling uneasy and wondering if he was going to kill you this time. You wondered if he had regretted not doing it yesterday while you were kneeling at his feet.

“You.” He pointed at you.

There were peering eyes all through the room, and they were all on you. Not a single breath was made from anyone. You wondered if someone would be thrusting your dead body into space in a few short moments.

“M-me, sir?” You said, damning your bottom lip for quaking.

“If the rest of you have no further work to do then I can see to it that replacements are found.” He looked around the room and immediately the prying eyes went back to their jobs.

One heavy stomp at a time, he stalked over to you. Not knowing what else to do, you once again found yourself kneeling at his feet. You would’ve kissed his boot if he had commanded you to. You were so afraid of what he was going to do next. You heard the signature hiss of his mask coming undone, and you were more confused than ever. Of all the things you’d expected him to do, that was next to last on the list.

“Look at me.” He demanded softly.

Slowly, you trailed your eyes up from his boot, over his leather pants, across his coat and finally met with his brilliant eyes. Your breath hitched in your throat. You felt your palms beginning to sweat and the heat was boiling in your cheeks.

“Pretty.” He said, an undeniable smirk played at his lips, meanwhile you were dumbfounded and completely confused.

“I-I’m sorry?” You felt like you were suffocating.

“Where were you yesterday?” He asked, moving on from his previous statement. “I am positive I asked for you specifically to bring me a new cup.”

“I, um, I was told I couldn’t work in the kitchen after I spilled your coffee Supreme Leader, sir.” You gulped, looking back down at the floor.

“Keep your eyes on me.” He demanded once again.

You did as you were told, still not sure why he was playing with you that way. If he was going to kill you, you wished he would just do it already.

“I’m not going to kill you.” You sometimes forgot that he could see into people’s minds. “Your prior boss on the other hand…will be taken care of immediately.”

You knew what that meant. There was no stopping him, so you didn’t even try, but you wondered what you’d done to receive that type of treatment. You wondered why Kylo Ren, the Supreme Leader of the galaxy, was interested in murdering your boss for dismissing you from your post.

“You are clumsy, foolish, and downright unfit to work even in a kitchen.” He said insultingly.

If he wasn’t your Supreme Leader, and your life wasn’t at risk in that very moment, you would’ve slapped him for saying such a thing. It was unbelievably rude, and hurtful.

“You make the best cup of coffee I’ve ever tasted, despite your inability to serve it to me properly.” His fingers moved, beckoning you to stand, and so you did.

He was so tall, so frightening to stand next to.

“Thank you, sir.” You said finally, remembering that you should speak when spoken to.

“Since you’re so unfit to work in the kitchen, I think it’s best I am the one to find the position that would suit you best.” He put a gloved finger under your chin and tipped your face up to meet his eyes once again. “Don’t you?”

AO3 LINK

Tag List: (please let me know if you would like to be added or removed): @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction, @my-secret-shame, @thatmomwitchfriend, @alexxavicry

#kylo ren #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren x reader #one shot #kylo ren one shot #kylo #ren #star wars #star wars fanfic #kylo ren headcanon #star wars headcanon #kylo fanfic #kylo x you #kylo x reader #kylo ren fluff #fluff #fluff no smut #kylo fluff #star wars fluff

[spacecowboyhotch]

By Chance: Jonathan

summary: jonathan makes it clear that whatever this is between you two isn’t just physical.

pairing: newly research!assistant!fem!reader x jonathan levy

content: 18+/nsfw/MINORS DNI, pining, mentions of divorce, kissing, unprotected sex, spit kink, feelings, fluff, get together

an: we’ve made it to the end of this series! thank you so much for reading and for your patience, this one really kicked my ass! thank you to my dear @hotchs-bitch for helping with the smut <333. gif credits @pyramidmoon.

word count: 4.1k

series masterlist | misc. masterlist | requests are open

You’re successful in your efforts to avoid alone time with Jonathan. One of the other graduate assistants, Logan, has never shut up about how hot he thinks Professor Levy is, so when you offer to give up your paper drop-offs to give him a chance to flirt, he takes it. To your surprise, he doesn’t ask a lot of questions but you’re grateful because you haven’t come up with a good reason.

The weeks pass with fleeting glances and pleading eyes. By the end of March, he has news for you, good news but you avoid him at all costs. These days, you’re the last one to arrive at meetings and the first one out. The only means he has to contact you is your university email and it would feel wrong to abuse his power to get any personal contact information from the registrar's office. So he continues his failing efforts, waiting for you by the door at meetings or trying to race after you once they’ve ended. He has no luck, you’ll either murmur that the meeting’s about to start or find an escape to the women’s restroom.

Eventually, he starts to go stir crazy and shows up at your office. If he didn’t look closely he would’ve assumed your door was closed but it’s cracked a fraction of an inch. He knocks and calls your name softly before entering. He’s surprised by what’s in front of him; you’re on your couch, asleep, you and the floor littered with folders and paperwork. You’ve never looked so endearing and he wishes that he could sit beside you and wake you up with a kiss. Instead, he studies your features until he feels like a creep, organizes all the paper on the floor into neat stacks, and locks your door from the inside on his way out.

You aren’t much better emotionally. Though you scoffed when he said he missed you, you get it now. You miss returning his glances and engaging in conversation with him. You miss the coarse feel of his beard as he kisses you, the intense gaze he regards you with, the feeling of his warm hands on your skin. Most of all you miss his smile, his laugh. Since you broke things off you haven’t seen them, not genuinely. Even as you avoid him you can tell he’s off. When you do steal glances, sad eyes look back at you. There’s something off about his smile and his usual deep belly laugh. It makes you miss him on an even deeper level.

When you wake up that day he’s in your office it just makes things worse. There’s only one person you know wouldn’t wake you, one person that would leave your office cleaner than how he found it. The thought of him standing in your office, walking around softly as he organizes and tidies is the last straw. You sit up on your couch, your face falling into your hands as you succumb to the tears that have been building in you since you walked out of his office that day.

His gesture that day almost makes you give in but you continue to do what you think is right, what’s honorable. It’s what’s best for you and him and his family. Things stay this way, empty and estranged until a few days after your graduation. You’re in your office, not only purging but decorating it a little more now that you’re here for the foreseeable future. There’s a knock on your door, and you wonder if it’s Santi, the building’s janitor, making sure that you’re okay in here. It has been hours. But when you open the door it’s none other but Professor Levy.

Your eyes go wide, blinking rapidly, at the sight of him. It’s clear that he came from home, he’s in a comfy sweatsuit and his hair’s a little wild, looking like the dad that he is. He’s holding a bouquet of peonies and an envelope, and you finally remember that you haven't said anything, “Hi.”

“Hi. Happy graduation,” His lips turn up into a smile as he holds the flowers out to you.

“Thank you, Professor. I have the perfect vase for these at home. They’re beautiful,” As you take the flowers into your hand, you move out the way allowing him in.

You glance at the door, making the firm decision with yourself to leave the door open.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

It’s sweet and pulls at your heart, but it was probably best he wasn’t there, especially if he was to bring his wife and daughter, “It's alright, I didn’t expect you to be. Plus now I have these.”

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip before he smirks, though he can’t maintain eye contact which you immediately notice, “Mmm, that’s true.”

“Everything okay?” You tilt your head, studying him as his eyes flicker back and forth.

He’s much more nervous than he expected to be. It takes him a moment to figure out why. He’s been busting at the seams with this information, ready to tell you and start whatever will be between you. But now that he’s here, that what he’s wanted since he first saw you a year ago is a possibility, the words are almost stuck in his throat, his mind buzzing with questions that have been brewing in his subconscious.

What if you don’t want him? What if you’ve moved on? What if it was just sex?

“I have something to tell you, I didn’t realize that I would be nervous.”

“I think with our past we don’t have a lot to be nervous about,” You tease but your concern grows when he doesn’t even give you the ghost of a smile.

What could he be nervous to tell you? He’s seen you vulnerable, heard of your shitty past, and even tasted you. There’s not much more between you that can be exposed. Other than how deeply you feel for him.

He looks at you again, almost in surprise, as if he’s forgotten you were there, “Right…I, uh. It’s good news. Great news actually, if things work out the way I want them to.”

“Hey, Levy, it’s just me,” You reassure him, reaching out to run your hand down his arm as you step closer.

That’s what you don’t understand. You’re more than just you, you’re a breath of fresh air or a fine spring morning. You’re everything he didn’t know he was missing until your eyes met his. There aren’t many things in this world that he thinks could beat spending time with you— in fact, as he thinks about it right now, his daughter is the only thing more important. Slowly but surely, his lens of the world has shifted, and now you’re in the frame.

He blows out a deep breath, running his hand over his beard before speaking, “Mira and I are getting a divorce. That’s what I was handling the day you graduated, it was our first negotiation.”

A gasp leaves your throat, so soft that he doesn’t hear it. Your heart feels like it’s in your stomach, subject to the acid as it burns with guilt. It pumps through your veins, clouding your mind. This is exactly what you didn’t want and the reason you walked away from him, and it happened anyway. You feel like a homewrecker.

“A divorce?” You squeak, your cheeks warming.

“We mutually agreed to get a divorce. She’s been seeing someone else for years apparently, and I…well I’m hoping to have you.”

“Me?” Your hand comes to rest on your chest, your heart beating rapidly. This isn’t how you expected this to go, not just this meeting but life in general. It’s hard to wrap your mind around what he’s saying; you get to….have him?

He frowns slightly, “Is that a surprise?”

You ignore his question, still trying to process the gravity of the decision he’s made, “You ended things with your wife…the mother of your child…for me?”

“For you, for me, for her and her potential partner. It’s for all of us.”

As you piece together his answers, they make you feel a little better. He didn’t do it selfishly, he didn’t just leave her. She was ready to go, she’d built a life outside of him. He wants you. He did this not only for himself, for her, for his daughter, but for you. You make his list.

“You chose me,” You say quietly, mostly to yourself in disbelief.

He wants to close the gap between you, cup your face and reassure you by pressing soft, loving kisses to your cheeks. But he can see how overwhelmed you are so he stays where he is, “Yeah baby, I chose you.” Doubt lances through him, nerves rolling through his stomach as the uncertainty of you wanting him returns in full force, “I hope that you’re happy about that?”

You’re not sure about the range of emotions you’re going through right now can just be simplified into happiness. There's some guilt, some fear, and unsureness so you change the subject to buy some time, “I have some good news of my own. Shelley offered me a full-time position on her research team.”

He closes the space between you, pulling you in for a hug, “That's incredible. Wait, are you taking it?”

“I’d be an idiot not to now, right?” It's a way to answer his earlier question that hangs in the air indirectly.

He pulls away, his eyes slowly tracing every feature of your face, “As in, you’ll stay to give this a real shot?”

“We can give us a real shot, yes,” You say tentatively, shivering in his arms from the intensity of his gaze.

As soon as the words are out of your mouth his eyes flash with need, and he’s pushing you back towards the couch, his lips hungrily crashing to yours. Your hands are in his hair immediately, to anchor his mouth to yours. He licks into your mouth, eager to taste you after months of being denied the privilege.

The two of you are like a tornado, frantic and leaving a flurry of clothing and mess in your wake. His hands fall from your waist and start on your button-down, his nimble fingers making quick work of it. It feels like a race, trying to get you out of your clothes so that he can see all of you.

As if you can hear his thoughts, it dawns on you that you’ve never seen any of him. That this will be the first time that any of him is bared to you, and it just makes your arousal burn brighter deep in your belly. You’re ripping at his clothing now, breaking away from the sloppy kisses he’s treating you to and pulling his shirt over his head. You can’t keep your hands off him, groping every part of his torso as you run your hands up and down his chest.

“You’re pretty,” You whisper, eyes flitting up to meet his.

His pupils are blown out with lust, cheeks tinted the softest of pinks from your compliment as he sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth, “You’re prettier.”

The back of your knees hit the couch, and you switch positions with him, pushing him down onto the couch and straddling him. His hands gather your hair into a makeshift ponytail, gently pulling you down into another kiss. He’s stealing your breath, licking into your mouth but you can’t find the wits to care as you run your hands up and down his body. Your body moves without thought, your warm, wet center begging for some friction. Your hips press down into him, and your eyes pop open at the sensation of feeling his erection against you there for the first time. Through the layers of clothing between you, you can feel him, hot and heavy.

“More,” He murmurs against your lips, his hands circling you to unclasp your bra, freeing your breasts. He blinks a few times, taking in your nearly naked frame before he starts to kiss them, rolling them delicately between his teeth.

You throw back your head as his tongue continues to switch between your nipples and you knot your hands into his curls, anchoring him to you. Your hips are still moving, grinding desperately against him as pleasure builds inside of you. You wouldn’t be surprised if he could get you to cum just from this. But you want more, and move one of your hands between you, groping at him through the material of his sweatpants causing him to his.

“Want you,” You breathe, running your hand up and down his length.

“Need you,” He counters, abruptly getting you on your back.

He starts to trail kisses down your neck, continuing to your breasts, treating them to love bites that make you arch into him. Your hands are his hair, not to guide him but just to feel. He runs his tongue down your stomach, dipping it into your belly button before peeling you out of your pants and panties. Running his hands down your thighs, he can’t take his eyes off of your completely naked body.

“Don’t make me wait, please?” You don’t care about how desperate you sound.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Are you?”

His eyes grow soft, filled with tenderness, “I’ve always been sure about you.”

That confession makes your heart pound in your chest, it's unexpected and romantic, and your feelings start to bubble in your throat, though you’re not quite ready to go there. You don’t have to worry about responding because he’s getting himself naked in a rush, and soon every inch of his bare skin is pressed to yours. He’s so warm and heavy against you, and your hands make their way down his back, squeezing his as in a move that makes him chuckle.

He presses his forehead to yours, stealing a quick kiss. “Will you say it?” He asks hesitantly, and you immediately know what he means.

He wants you to say his name. To cross the last of the boundaries that lie between you.

You hesitate, sucking your lip between your teeth, “Levy…”

“No, say it. It’s just me and you now. I’m yours. Say it, please,” He practically begs, his gaze intense. “Please.”

“Jonathan,” It comes out of you rough and taboo, almost like a curse. Your voice is laced with need, and you have to admit to yourself that it feels good to finally call him that. You look up at him and his eyes are a little misty, filled with wonder as he starts to move his hips forward. And as he enters you inch by inch, you feel the breath leaving your lungs, your body turning to jello. This time when you say his name it’s a whimper, a soft desperate, “Jonathan.”

“I know, baby, I know,” He runs his hand over your hair affectionately, understanding how overwhelmed you feel. This feels right, him inside of you, it feels like home. “So fucking good.”

He snaps his hips forward again, and it’s almost as if you feel him in your lungs, “You’re so deep, I can’t…”

He stills, pulling his face out of your neck to look at you, eyebrows knit in concern, “Are you okay? Should I stop?”

“No, no, please don’t stop, you feel so good.”

“You’re sure?” His eyes scan your face for any hesitancy.

You nod, a bashful smile on your lips, “It’s just been a while for me, I’m okay.”

The gears turn in his head as he digests that information before his mouth turns up into a smirk, “Were you keeping this pussy safe? Just for me?”

Your eyes widen at his confidence. If you weren’t already so hot from the sex, your skin would flush from his gaze, “Yes.”

“It’s all mine, isn’t it? You’re all mine. You and this pussy?” He’s so deep inside you in this moment, proof of his words before you can even answer.

“Yes, all yours. And you’re mine?”

“Since the moment I saw you,” He says firmly, not a doubt in his mind.

You groan at that and bring him in for a kiss before whispering words of praise against his mouth. He smiles against your warm, sweet skin and takes your lip in between his teeth, reminiscent of the first time the two of you ever kissed. He’s got his hands on your thighs, spreading you open wide as he slowly ruts into you. You run your nails down his back, pivoting your hips up to meet his with every stroke. Words cease, and it’s nothing but the two of you, getting lost in the taste and feel of each other. It’s a little overwhelming, how much he means to you, and you pull him even closer, wanting to be completely consumed by him.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” He murmurs before capturing your lips in another sloppy kiss. Watching him collect the spit in his mouth you open wide, and he lets it fall slowly from his tongue onto yours. You swallow greedily before pulling him closer, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck. “I love how this pussy feels, I love you,” It all comes out of him in a rush, and his entire body freezes, tense with nerves. He hadn’t meant to say it this early though he’s been thinking about it for months now. He’s worried that he’s ruined this moment.

But then you whine, “Don’t stop, Jonathan,” tilting your hips up, focused on the feel of him and your impending orgasm, and he feels much better.

When he moves again, his pace is quicker, though he doesn’t sacrifice depth, pulling completely out of you just to fill you up over and over. It brings you to the brink of your orgasm, and you hold two fingers up to his lips, raising an eyebrow. He understands immediately, taking your fingers into his mouth, sucking them loudly. Once sufficiently wet you drop them to your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts.

You spiral into the most intense release you’ve ever had, pleasure lighting up every nerve in your body. He watches you moan and shudder under him, your eyes closed and mouth wide open as you let it overtake you. Your hands are roaming, finding their place in his hair as you come down, your breathing still harsh.

He can tell that this orgasm has taken a lot out of you, your eyes are still closed and you’re sinking into the cushions, “Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

“Can I make you cum one more time, baby?” He asks softly between chaste kisses to your lips.

The way he asks makes arousal bloom in your belly once more, and he feels your pussy tighten around his cock before you answer verbally. He grins at you, a knowing look on his face that somehow makes you feel shy, your cheeks warming. How you can feel this way he’s taken you apart and put you back together in multiple ways is lost on you.

“That’s my girl,” He gives you another kiss before pulling out of you and sitting up.

Your eyes drink in every inch of him still, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to having him like this. He’s soft and firm in all the right places, his chest dusted with hair in a way that makes you want to run your tongue over it.

“Baby?” His voice brings you out of your trance and your eyes meet his.

“Mmm?”

“I said bend over the couch for me,” He whispers, gripping your hips to help you up.

You feel exposed, and a little self-conscious once you’re in this position but his next words clear any of those thoughts from your mind.

“You’re so wet,” He marvels, his voice is so endearing that it doesn’t sound like he’s talking about something so obscene. “So beautiful,” He murmurs as he lines the head of his cock up with your entrance.

You wiggle your hips impatiently, throwing your hair over your shoulder to get a good look at him. His curls are stuck to his forehead, a sheen of sweat glistening on his entire body.

He loves the sight of you like this, desperation pooling in your eyes, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you silently beg him to enter you. He has to give in, not just because you’re looking at him like that but because he wants to be buried in your tight heat once more. He pushes into you until his hips are flush against yours, and you mewl beneath him, rolling your hips in hopes to take him deeper.

“Exquisite,” He grits out as he pulls out and snaps his hips forward with so much force it makes you yelp.

He’s rougher this way, chasing after both of your orgasms as he sets a fast pace. He fucks into you with bruising strength, though his hands that hold your hips steady hold you with so much tenderness. The sound of cock entering you over and over is indecent, both of you coated in your arousal.

“Fuck, yes, just like that,” You start to push back against him, feeling your second orgasm building steadily in your lower belly.

“You and this pretty little pussy gonna be the death of me. You take me so well,” His eyes lower to where he’s entering you, completely mesmerized by the sight.

“Jonathan,” His name rolls off your tongue easily now as if it’s meant to be. You knot harshly into the material of the couch, using the leverage to rock back even harder against him.

“I’m right here baby, I’m not going anywhere,” His lips are at your ear before he wraps his arms around to pull you close, continuing to pound into you.

He holds you flush against him this time as you meet your release a second time. Your body trembles in his arms, pleasure overwhelmingly coursing through your veins. He’s still kissing you, and thrusting inside of you, just on the precipice of his own orgasm. You’re completely fucked out but with the little energy, you have left you squeeze around him, pussy clenching so tightly that it hurls him over the edge.

His hips stutter as he cums, his strokes becoming slower as he fucks his seed further inside of you. The thought of what that looks like, your lips messy against each other’s, hips working together, moaning wantonly makes your pussy flutter around him once more. It makes him want to turn you over and fuck you all over again, but he’s spent, falling back into the couch cushions, taking you with him.

You focus on the warmth of him, against you and inside you as you try to return your breathing to normal. His hold on you loosens so he just got an arm around your waist, his harsh breathing slowly bobbing you up and down. After a few moments pass you carefully turn over, breath catching when he slips out of you.

Some of his curls are damp, sticking to his forehead and his eyes widen slightly as everything that’s just happened flickers through his mind. He’d said it, he’d told you that he loves you and while you hadn’t stopped everything, you certainly didn’t say it back. That anxiety that coursed through him when he’d first gotten here is back.

Jonathan looks anywhere but at you, “About what I said-”

You lean into him, grasping his chin so he has to look at you, “Did you mean it?”

His eyes are crystal clear, full of sincerity, “Of course, without a doubt in my mind.”

His certainty is all you need to say it back. You know in your heart it’s true, you haven’t thought about anything but him since you laid eyes on him. All of that has led to this moment.

“I…I love you too,” You push your fingers through his curls, before leaning in for a quick kiss.

“Yeah?” He smiles against your lips, and it’s infectious.

“Mhmm.”

“Maybe I could have you over for dinner tomorrow? I’ll cook.”

“I would really like that.”

“We can take this as slow as we both need. I want this to work. I need it to.”

“Jonathan, it's just me and you, like you said. It's us, okay? Don't worry about what's happened in the past.”

He didn’t realize how important it would be for you to call him his name until today. The way your mouth molds around it, makes it sound sacred and makes his heart flutter. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt like this, like a bright-eyed lover who feels safe and held. Understood. But the way you look at him, delicately and compassionate almost brings tears to his eyes.

“It's just us,” He agrees before tucking his head into the crook of your neck.

Just you. Just him. Together.

< prev |

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[eezeybreezy]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴜɴᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴀᴛ pt.3 ➜ʜᴏʙɪᴇ ʙʀᴏᴡɴ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

This is the result of Hobie brain rot. Was a lot longer than intended so now it's broken into multiple chapters.  Part 1 Part 2 Part 4🔞

(Sorry if this one is shorter than the others, it was a weird scene to break up)

warnings: tension👀 , not-so-accurate accent, recreational drug/alcohol use, , punk shit, eventual smut, implied black reader

Stepping into the cool night, you feel the urge to compliment the man you’ve been ogling all night. “I fuck with your wicks heavy btw, it was cool to see another black vigilante / super person.

“Black and proud, that’s the Punk way.”

You hear the ting of pride in his voice, and it makes him sound almost cocky. He smiles and offers you a hand to take. He has a mischievous grin on his face. You try to change the subject before embarrassing yourself further, “I’m up for anything, you wanna walk like normal people or take the rooftop? Is swinging while intoxicated considered a DUI?”

“Let’s take the rooftops.”

The words seem to leap out of his mouth as soon as they leave your lips. He smiles excitedly, obviously eager to have some fun. “I’ve had some practice swinging drunk, you’ll be fine love. Don’t worry.”

He reaches his hands up to the roof and lets out a quick laugh, not seeming fazed by the prospect of drinking and swinging at the same time.

You giggle, “I hope we don’t regret this.” clinging to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he scales the wall.

“I’m certain we won’t love. How could we ever regret spending such a beautiful night together?”

he flirts, giving you a wink and your ass a quick squeeze. “I promise I’ll make sure you stay safe.”

He waits for her to uncling to him before he starts running and they leaping onto the next roof, landing with a small roll and then immediately taking off again, faster than they would’ve been able to walk. You quickly run to catch up to the punk, jumping the gap between buildings. You’re both gaining momentum quickly, and soon enough you’ve matched his speed. As they gain speed, you feel the cold air fly by and it’s as liberating as ever. You fly through the air together, both laughing as you go. Hobie doesn’t slow down too much though, and you’re almost at the apartment building he lives in already. He looks at the building and turns to you, 

“Almost there mate, you ready for the finale?”

You chuckle, showing off the pearly whites he’s so enamored with, “And what would that be exactly?” The wind picks up around you, making it hard to hear and even harder to concentrate in your intoxicated state. This was fun.

You tease him back, matching him in pace and wit.

“You’ll see in a second, darling.”

He grins mischievously at you and turns back to face the apartment building. “Hold on tight love, we’re about to hit the big jump.”

He lets out a cackle right before jumping off of the roof, flying towards the window he lives in. To make the jump, he opts to go faster and faster by spinning in mid air. As he lands in his window, he makes sure to steer clear of the landing, and you pick up the pace as you approach the ledge. To play it safe (none of this is), you opt to drop to all fours, pushing yourself to make this jump. You push off the ledge, cracking the concrete as you push off. 

Hobie notices the cracking ledge, and is very impressed he’ll admit. He watches you the whole time and smiles when you make the jump. Your landing is cleaner than his and you look at him, grinning as you land. He smiles back, but deep down he’s wondering how much power is in those legs of yours, and just what else your thighs can do.

You’re the first to speak as we puts the drinks in the fridge. “It smells like you in here, which isn’t a bad thing btw, though I’d thought you’d be musty being punk and all.”

He chuckles at that, head still in the fridge. “Now that’s definitely one I’ve never heard before. You’ve got jokes.” he grabs them a couple beers. “Want one?”

He leans against the fridge and looks at you, trying to get a sense of what you think about his place. He hasn’t brought anyone back here before, and he’s a little nervous about your reaction. He’s also more than a little curious to see how this goes over.

You look around, getting a vibe of this living room when a vinyl player catches my eye. “I don’t really like beer, care to pour me sum Henney tho?” Your fingers brush against the surprising wide variety of albums he has stored. You lean in and check out the records sitting on the shelf. Some look familiar to you, while others seem new and almost otherworldly. There are a lot of different records, enough to fill the shelves and even a good handful sitting off to the side. 

“Sure thing!” He grabs a glass from one of the cabinets and pulls out the bottle of Henney. “Let me know when to stop adding it” he pours it out into the glass and waits for her to tell him when to stop. “So you like records? I’ve been putting the collection together my whole life.”

He sounds a little bit proud of it. And you’d be happy to indulge him. 

“I was just thinking to myself that despite coming from a different universe, most of these albums are the same ones I have back home. Didn’t picture you for an R&B type tho, that’s good to know.” You gaze at him with the same sultry look as before. “You can stop pouring now.”

He stops pouring and hands the glass off to you as he leans against the wall and smiles. “I’ve got some variety, for sure.”

 “You have a good taste in music, but you know that.” I smile goofily up at him, still so taken by how handsome he was. “So, do actually you get to spend any time here, this is a cute place you got/”

He grins and walks past you, sitting down on the couch. “Thank you. It’s not much, but for me it’s a very nice space where I can just unwind and be myself. I’m here every night actually.”

He pats his lap inconspicuously. “Do you want to sit? It’ll be better than standing and talking.” He grins at you, looking around for any spaces that you’d be comfortable going to, trying his best to be a gentleman. Despite the plenty of space on the couch he decided to sit on, you still opt to sit as close to him as possible, and put your drink on the table.

“I’ll roll for us this time, can I get sum more of that tree tho?” You ask sweetly, draping your legs over his lap, and grabbing the rolling tray he’d abandoned on his coffee table.

He chuckles a little and grins when you sit on his lap. “I was wondering when this was coming. Yeah go ahead, just try not to make a mess." He sits back a little, trying to give you as much room as he can while you sit on him and roll.

The way he’s sitting and tilts his head back has you practically drooling. The way his piercings sit on his face, the gaze that seems to bore into you, the plump lips you want to kiss again and again. You start rolling a little quicker, before he catches you starting you notice him open his eyes from the relaxed position you are on the couch. Eventually you’re wrapping up, and Hobie finds himself looking at you, taking in every single one of your features in the moment. You seem to be taking your time and he lets you work, just staring until he hears the sound of you wrapping up and looks back. 

“You got it rolled up already?”

You almost reply, but you instead make a show out of the finishing touches, licking your lips while peering up at Hobie, licking the paper to seal it up while looking between those big brown eyes and his full dark lips. 

Hobie watches you and enjoys the whole show being put on, smirking when you look up and makes eye contact with him, his eyes twinkling with some unknown emotion. 

“Looks good to me darling. You ready to smoke it?” He asks grinning, and reaches for it.

You pull the joint back from his prying hands. “I believe I deserve some compensation for my services first Punk.”

Hobie snorts when you pull the joint away, and settles on putting a hand on your thigh, gently squeezing it as you both sit on the couch. He waits for you to pass him the joint, “I guess I can’t argue with that. What do you want?”

#hobie x reader #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #atsv hobie #spider punk #spiderverse x reader