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keelywolfe · 2 days

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Around when did Charlie give Alastor the shovel talk? And did she figure it out before the story even began?

Mmmm, I think she suspected from almost the beginning. She grew up in Hell, she can note the difference between arguing and arguing with intense sexual tension, and also the sudden decrease in public arguments.

I can see her talking it out with Vaggie in their room at night. Vaggie, being a former angel, is horrified to think Lucifer, also a former angel, is letting that nasty radio demon put his hands on him, but Charlie insists it makes sense, sure compatible are drawn together (her and Vaggie) but opposites also attract!

And sure, it's a little...uh...weird...to think of her dad being with Alastor of all people, but Charlie can't help but notice her dad seems a little calmer, easier in his own skin. When he first got to the hotel he was all manic energy, desperate to be helpful, and as much as she understood the reason behind it, she didn't know how to reassure him it was okay. The only thing that would make him believe he wasn't going to lose her again if he said or did the wrong thing was time.

(Cutting because this got long)

So she started family dinner nights to give her dad a chance to be around her little found family, and she warned everyone else off of drinking the last of Alastor's coffee before her dad got a cup, and she watched her dad lose some of that 'King of Hell' protective shell and become more just...him. Her dad, who told her stories she'd never heard before about her childhood and showed her his sketchbook--

(and dad, really, trying to hide your relationship with Alastor and you had THAT sketch right there? Crying out loud, he might as well have drawn little hearts around it! She even tried to give him an out by asking if he sketched anyone else and he so obviously didn't. She still wasn't sure if she was relieved or irritated that Angel interrupted him, she was morbidly curious what her dad would come up with.)

--and her dad seems to be settling into the hotel better. And sure, he has a few moments, (finding him obviously fresh from the bar if not drunk was a little surprising but not a daily event) but all and all, Alastor seems to have been good for him. Something for him to push against that had no qualms about pushing back and if that was something her dad needed? She was glad Alastor could give it to him. But yeah, she also totally gave him the shovel talk, probably right after Alastor's little tantrum in the city where he ate the guy having the nasty fantasies about Charlie, and (she didn't know the details, Husk only told her quietly Alastor was protecting the hotel and she believed him) she walked in on her dad and Alastor standing suspiciously far apart in the parlor. Lucifer looked about as innocent as a kitten standing over a container of spilled cream and Alastor never looks innocent. She would have stalked right up to Alastor later that day and told him, "I know you and my dad are sleeping together!" Because asking Alastor questions when you want answers is always a mistake, he is a slippery little bastard and managed to slither his way out of answering with a laugh and a 'Oh, my dear, you and your ideas!' all too often.

Ask him directly, interrupt him before he can prevaricate, and you'll eventually dig a path to the truth. Especially since Lucifer never specifically told him to lie about it when directly asked. "What of it?"

And hey, stories about her dad were highly exaggerated, that's pretty obvious to anyone who ever meets him. Stories about her mother? Not so much and Charlie knows things Alastor would never dream she might, not even in his deepest, darkest nightmares, and if he hurts her dad, he'll learn about each and every one of them. But...if you just want to be with him, that's okay, Just don't tell him I know, not yet, I want to give him the chance to tell me! "It is such a joy to have the opportunity to see the more diabolical side of your mind in action, my dear. Rumor leads me to believe your mother would be proud."

"Thanks a lot. Just don't tell him I know, okay?"

"Agreed. The entertainment value promises to increase by the day!"

"What did I just say about hurting him?"

"Ah, ah, this wouldn't be me hurting him, now would it?"

"No, no, no, not another word, I know you, you'll get me thinking this is a bad idea! Just don't be doing any weird plotting or deals or voodoo magic to him, all right??"

"I assure you, Charlie, dear, when I am with your father, such things are the last on my mind. In fact--"

"No details!!!"

"As you wish." So yeah, I think it went something like that. 😂

#radioapple asks #asks #Lucifer and his THNGVBR #RadioApple #Spoilers

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takes1 · 10 hours

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bratty tsukishima x manager!reader enemies to lovers p.2

warnings. m!masturbation at the end. midterms mentioned. minors DNI content. misinterpretation of emotions. tsukki not knowing how to handle a crush. enemies to lovers. or maybe enemies with benefits, i haven't decided yet. manager!reader. tsukki being so incredibly horny. tsukki not understanding facial expressions. sexual frustration. male masturbation + implied previous. kiyoko being a friend. yachi being a friend. 1.7k words notes. 3 more parts planned! ask to be added to the taglist if you don't want to miss one! links. PART ONE HERE. masterlist for mha. my ao3.

Despite your iced latte being mostly just water by now, you still sucked it down in desperation to get every ounce of caffeine you could. Midterms were just around the corner and one of your most difficult classes involved writing a 10-page scientific paper.

You had the whole semester to do it, so the dread you felt now was the amalgamation of months' worth of opportunity that you could've and should've used to work on it.

Thankfully, you didn't have to churn the majority of this thing out alone.

"What the hell does ameliorate mean." Kiyoko asked, though her soft frustration was starting to sound more like a statement now.

Yachi took every opportunity she could to stop doing her work, including this one. For her, there was less pressure to do perfectly on her finals since she had another two years to get those top marks.

She scanned her laptop screen for a moment, lips perched on the lid of her strawberry refresher: "Ameliorate means... To... make something bad or unsatisfactory better."

Kiyoko muttered something about how it still didn't make sense. Of course it wouldn't- she was taking an organic chemistry course.

The plan as it stood now was to rot in this spot all day until hunger moved you, so you all made an event out of it by putting on something cute, grabbing some coffees and pastries from a cafe nearby, and settling into this local library.

It wasn't planned, but you all simultaneously chose to wear skirts and cute summer tops. The mutual reaction of humor helped ease the pain of having to study all day. Suffering together was preferable to suffering alone.

The chance finally came again to stretch your legs and find another vaguely relevant reference to add to your bibliography.

With a rewarding, careful stretch, you rose out of your chair and took your time walking up and down the aisles to find something to support the fifth theory you'd written about so far.

Midterms were one stressor, but you weren't afforded the privilege of having tunnel vision over it.

Qualifiers were just around the corner, and you had the Tokyo training camp to prepare a load of equipment and personnel logs for.

As you selected a thick novel from a shelf above your head, you let out a small sigh.

The front matter described a concept you could start to look into and fluff up to your liking for the paper. Your mind fell back to the team, and how you wanted to do well on these exams so you'd have less to worry about going to Tokyo.

The side of your face was growing warm, probably from the East-facing window to your left, so you raised the back of a cold hand to cool yourself down.

You were just deciding to take this book back when, in the process of dropping your hand, you caught a blur of blond hair and glasses in the corner of your eye.

Your stomach jolted, heart starting to race, and an uncontrollable surprise took over your features.

Tsukishima was sitting, leaned over a table on his elbows, his head twisted all the way to the side to look at you over his shoulder.

You quickly looked back to the shelf and sucked in a breath. God, that must've looked so lame- you regretted every millisecond of that reaction and prayed he wouldn't ever bring it up.

He hated you. You didn't want anything to do with him. There was no pleasant exchange to get out of saying hello, or even acknowledging each other. It's not like you were friends.

Why was he even here? You started to get worried, but realized that he did ride the same train back with you after practice in the evenings.

Now you were really remembering. He got off one stop before yours and always moved to create the most space possible between you. You usually didn't see him again until he got off. Even then, you didn't care enough to look for him anymore.

You glanced back to him, expecting to now have to speak to him after you'd exchanged a mutual acknowledgment of each other's presence.

He was staring. But... that wasn't exactly the right word for it.

He was distracted. You wondered if he knew who you were, because you'd never seen him stare at you for more than a few seconds.

His brow wasn't pinched like usual. It was relaxed- in fact, everything about him was relaxed. The way his head was held in his hand, the loose grasp on his pencil, the subtle part of his lips. The lazy, yet measured scan of his eyes.

There was a reddish tint at the tips of his ears and highest points of his cheeks. It was astoundingly easy to notice, since he was so fair-skinned.

A strong chill ran up your spine when he finally made eye contact with you. Even then, it took a glance down to the book clasped against your chest, then back up for him to really notice your gaze and stiffen right up.

That new side of him vanished in an instant. It was replaced with a brief, stone-cold glower before he turned back to his own midterm work.

On the stiff walk back to your table, you smoothed your skirt out and pulled on the edge a bit before sitting back down.

It took a minute of silent sitting to even begin to unpack what you felt.

"Do I look stupid?"

Yachi instantly piped up, "Of course not! You're very pretty!"

"You really shouldn't waste your breath asking," Kiyoko glanced up at you.

It was brief but it rested your immediate insecurities.

"Why?" Yachi, once again, wanted nothing more than to just hang out and talk.

Another surge of chills. It was sickening.

You put your head in your hands, elbows on the table. "Mm-mm, it's just-..." You thought to tell them, but held back at the last second, "I dunno."

Another big sigh and you were back to typing to take your mind off of it. You'd have plenty of time to see what this spun into once you were free from this academic prison. It was too confusing right now.

Kiyoko didn't read into it, but Yachi lingered until 1) it was obvious you simply didn't want to disclose and 2) an abnormally tall boy from school walked past your table. She watched him watch you on his way towards the exit.

Her eyes narrowed with keen intuition.

the keen intuition in question:

Kei felt himself practically melt against the closed door of his bedroom. Breathless from a difficult and quick walk home, he fumbled with the tie of his sweatpants and the lock on the door concurrently.

"Finally," He sighed with a desperate laugh, "Fuck..."

His bag hit the floor with a sharp and careless thump. He stepped over it and fell onto his back on his mattress, a long arm stretched toward his side table for some lotion.

It was useless trying to study after that. Library or home, it didn't matter unless he could fuck this one out.

This time he didn't have to stalk your Instagram to spark his imagination; it was already running rampant with filthy ideas of what he'd do to you in that short skirt.

An ignored, aching erection sprang out of his waistband as he pushed it down and out of the way.

Light grey sweatpants had (for the first time in his life) ended up being a shit idea. All he could worry about on the 20 minute walk back was if anyone could see the tip of his cock tucked up just under his shirt.

Every shirt was too short. Every pair of pants was too big in the middle.

His slippery hand was beautiful relief. He was quick to get himself lubricated, and quicker to pump in slow, twisting motions to the image of you reaching, reaching, reaching up to that book on your tippy toes.

All the worry in his tight brow washed away in crashing waves of steady-growing pleasure.

Soon he didn't care about the harrowing journey home, the threat of midterms, nor the growing dread of that training camp.

It was just you.

It felt like fate that he got the only chance anyone might ever have to see the curve of your ass just under the hem of your skirt. You were able to get that book all too quickly.

If everything were different, he would've gotten it for you. You would've thanked him, kissed him on the cheek- he would've pulled you in for a heated, raunchy kiss with a hand palming you closer. He would've savored the view of you spread on the table for him -homework long forgotten- and his massive hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. It was a library, after all.

He seethed and stalled for a moment--, "a-ahh- Mm..."

His cock twitched hard with the need to cum, but he stopped just soon enough.

An oversized hand was holding the base; he looked at his other dry one, then closed his eyes in an eager but fruitless attempt to visualize just how they'd look on your thighs. Fuck, anywhere at this point.

Just one touch, that's all he wanted. He never let himself get close enough to even consider it, but my god, the internal struggle he made to stay away was commendable.

His tight, lightly sweaty stomach flexed with effort as he slowed down again.

You were so quick to switch up when it came to him. He could tell he had a special place in your heart, the way your lips pursed into a small frown and your eyes narrowed when he tested you.

It was out-of-this-world cute from his vantage point. A smile might just kill him.

"Mmm, fu-ck," He croaked, mind circling back to today.

His chest swelled with a shaky inhale- he smirked at the thought of you finding out about his terrible secret, how you would punish him for his unprofessional behavior. You were so pretty when you got mad.

The breath caught in his throat. He wasn't even thinking about the skirt when he finally came all over his stomach. Just that pretty face of yours did it for him.

taglist:

@hotvinimon @cyzvx @aloveablechaos @kozumesphone

thanks for the support!!

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jtl-fics · 1 year

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I met a dog named Riko at work today. Lil guy wanted a pup cup. It took every ounce of restraint in me not to look him in his sweet ole eyes and go “you know what, I get it.” As I fed him his delectable treat.

Riko would have been a lot better behaved if he knew HE could get a pup cup.

#AFTG #Ask #You know he was in college #with a super controlled diet #they probably didn't ever let him have coffee #Imagine being in college without slamming some coffee #I'm not excusing Riko's absolute dog shit insane behavior #but #You know what #I get it.

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amuseoffyre · 30 days

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I've been rolling around in Good Omens thoughts again and a gifset made something jump out at me.

This is where the Metatron is going to come undone. He's got the same binary thinking as Heaven. Good or bad. Heaven or hell. Coffee or death. So predictable.

It reminded me of the scene in S1 when Aziraphale is confronted by the angels and they tell him "it's time to choose a side" and this is where it gets chewy and delicious.

Aziraphale points out "there obviously has to be two sides. That's the whole point, so people can make choices. That's what being human means - choices, but that's for them. Our job as angels should be to keep all this working so they can make choices".

He's already arguing for humanity all the way through S1, which is a problem, but it's something he's done consistently. Not questioning. Very much, not questioning. Just... offering suggestions. So this isn't news. He's even made these kind of suggestions to the Metatron before, so not new.

At the end of S1, Crowley points out that he thinks the real 'big one' is coming "Heaven and Hell against humanity". Aziraphale has been sitting with that knowledge for years. He and Crowley have been dancing on the edge of disaster with Heaven and Hell turning up whenever they wanted, invading their space, demanding their time and compliance even though they are seen as rogue agents.

Everything in S2 is Aziraphale trying to maintain the veneer of everything is fine while still dealing with the terror of it all falling apart. The "or death" has been hanging over them the whole time. He saw the attempted execution. He's been told by Heaven that Crowley is under threat.

But the thing about Aziraphale is that he never ever does the predictable thing. Yes, he agreed to go back to Heaven. Yes, the Metatron leveraged Crowley's safety against him to guarantee it. The statement of "I don't want to go back to Heaven" turning around as soon as Crowley's safety is brought into it. Yes, he'll be the Archangel.

But this is the angel who gave away his flaming sword and lied to God's face. This is the angel who interfered in a bet between God and Satan to save the lives of three children. This is the angel who collaborated with a demon so they could have more down time. This is the angel who was swayed towards saving the world because he loves his life there and all his favourite foods and music and indulgences. This is the angel who flipped the bird and dive-bombed out of Heaven to possess a medium and fly a scooter to the end of the world.

Whatever the Metatron thinks he's done by separating Crowley and Aziraphale, he has no idea what he's unleashed. Crowley's bee metaphor comes to mind here. Angels are fiercely protective of Heaven but once you're inside? Well, that's another story. Aziraphale may look like a bee, but he hasn't been a bee for a long, long time. They knew it at his trial.

And Aziraphale can't say he didn't warn them:

"So you're probably thinking if he can do this, I wonder what else he can do and very, very soon, you're all going to get the chance to find out"

Heaven's got a big storm coming and they let it right in through the front door.

#good omens #good omens meta #Aziraphale

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sanguineterrain · 9 months

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window pains | jason todd

Summary: He's got a habit of coming in through the window. You want him to start staying... and using the door.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings/tags: injured Jason Todd (he's okay dw), angst, pining, mentions of Jason's death.

A/N: sooo.... i guess i'm a dc girlie now. just a reminder that every character i write will always be 18+!!! this is probably canon divergent but we make our own canon.

If you like this fic and want to see more, please let me know through reblogs ♡

the divider

"Can't you enter my apartment like a normal person?"

"You know who you're talking to, right?"

"You're getting blood on my carpet, Todd."

It doesn't really matter. He'll come back and scrub it out as soon as his ribs are whole. And fuck if he's not good at getting blood out of surfaces. Jason Todd ought to start a housekeeping column.

You catch his limp as he climbs over the windowsill. It almost topples him, but he gets to the couch before it does. He doesn't make a sound.

That had freaked you out the first few times he'd stumbled through your window. Once, he came with part of a windshield wiper impaled in his shoulder. He'd lain on your couch so still and so quiet, you'd thought Red Hood had croaked in your apartment. Which would not have been a good look for you. Or maybe it would. Depends on who you ask.

Sometimes you want to tell him to make sounds. To hiss and grunt and complain. To grab your wrist so you'll slow down as you pull thread through flesh.

But it's not your place to request such a thing. You don't know where you reside in Jason Todd's life, but it's not somewhere where you can request to hear him hurt.

Outwardly, his injuries aren't bad-looking. He takes off his helmet and tosses it somewhere under the coffee table. You offer a hand to help him lie down on the couch—he doesn't take it.

"Jesus Christ, Jay." You suck in a sharp breath and peel back his bloody suit. "What'd you do?"

"Took a midnight stroll in the Botanical Gardens. Why, what'd you do?"

You frown, eyebrows pinching in the center of your forehead. Jason's stomach is mottled with purple and red bruises. There's a sticky gash right above his hip. A knife. Or a sword, maybe. Apparently, swords are commonplace in Gotham.

"How'd they get you?" you ask.

It's a rule-break. Jason's number one policy: don't ask questions.

You always do. Even when it was new, this… thing between you two, you'd ask. Who were they? Why did they hurt you? Did you hurt them back?

The last one, you always know the answer to.

"There were, like, ten of them," he says. "Cut me some slack, will ya?"

He has a cut across his lips. A ringed finger that caught on his skin, you guess. You wonder if he'd wince if you kissed him. If he'd wince at the pain or the kiss itself. If you'd know the difference.

Rage suddenly cuts through you. It makes your hands careless, cruel; you pull the bandage around his waist too tight. Jason coils up slightly.

"Jesus—ever heard of bedside manner?" he asks, looking at you through his lashes.

"Ever heard of not breaking into someone's apartment and making them patch you up?"

"I don't make you," Jason says easily. "You wouldn't do it if you didn't want to."

That only increases your rage. Because he's right. You wouldn't be here if you didn't want to be. You'd have kicked him out four first aid kits ago if you minded.

You yank down his shirt and pack up the kit. Jason shifts on the couch. A sliver of skin above his waistband is still exposed. You have to turn your head to force your gaze away.

"No bandaids?" he asks. "All my cuts'll be exposed to the elements."

"You can put them on yourself."

His cheek could use one. And his eyebrow. You're not in the mood.

Jason doesn't say anything in response to that. You get up to put the kit back under the sink.

"Can I crash here?"

"Do what you want," you say, suddenly exhausted. Like it's you who just went six rounds with Gotham's scumbags.

You peek over the kitchen counter when you hear rustling and the couch springs squeak. Jason leans heavily on the arm of the couch, reaching for the window. You walk over and stand in front of him.

"What're you doing?" you ask.

"You want me to go," he says flatly. "So I'm going."

"I didn't say that, I said—"

"I can read between the lines."

"If you could read between the lines as well as you think you can, we wouldn't be in this situation," you say.

"What situation?"

You turn your head. "Nothing."

Jason steps towards the window. You block him again.

"What is the matter with you?" you ask. "You're injured. Lie down."

"I'm not your responsibility," he says, glaring. "I'm leaving."

"No, you're not. And since you're allergic to using the door, you don't have a choice."

Jason's eyebrow rises. "Are you saying you'd physically prevent me from leaving?"

You lift your chin. "If that's what it takes."

"Hm. Can't tell if your confidence is stupid or brave."

"Lie the fuck down, Todd."

His lip curls. "I don't stay where I'm not welcome."

Sometimes you forget how young he is. Not that you're not also young, but, well… you don't feel your youth as acutely as other people your age might. It's something you two have in common.

Here, in the gritty glow of Gotham, you are reminded that Jason Todd died once. Before he finished school. Before he fell in love.

Your stomach churns every time you see that Y-shaped scar on his torso, strapped over him like a chain.

"I didn't say that you're not welcome," you say.

"Yeah, well, you didn't have to."

He sags against the couch and it occurs to you that he's as exhausted as you feel.

"Can you just—" You touch his bicep. He winces even though there's no injury there. "Can you just lie down?"

You stare at each other for another minute. Slowly, Jason lays down. His eyes are alert instead of heavy with sleep. Instantly, you feel guilty for making him think he has to be cautious around you. His hand curls protectively over his stomach.

"Do you want a blanket?" you ask.

He squints. "It's August."

"I know, I… I thought maybe the blood loss made you cold."

"'M fine. Perks of being risen from the dead."

You watch him get settled for a minute. He shifts his weight to his uninjured side and meets your gaze. His eyes are gray in the weak light.

"You're tired of me," he says.

Your head snaps up. "No, I'm not."

"You are."

"I'm not tired of you, Jay."

You see it. The fear. He thinks this is the last time you'll let him in. He doesn't know you can't lock him out. You won't.

You get up and go to get the kit from the sink again. Jason follows your movement the whole time. His face scrunches in confusion when you sit in front of the couch and unzip the kit.

You pull out the tiny red bandaids. You'd bought them as a joke, initially. It had made Jason laugh and that had been reason enough to keep buying them. And then he let you actually put them on.

You peel the adhesive off of one and gently stick it on his cheek. He blinks at you, thick, dark lashes kissing the corners of his eyes.

"I'm not tired of you," you say softly.

"I'd be tired of me."

"You keep this city safe. How could I be tired of Gotham's defender?"

Jason scowls and turns his head into the cushion before you can put the second bandaid.

"I'm not its defender. The others protect this city a hundred times better. Nightwing does it with a smile on his face."

"I like that you go out there even when it's hard, Jay," you say.

He doesn't respond. You lean in, so close that you can count the freckles on his neck.

"Can I finish putting the bandaids on?" you ask.

"I don't need 'em."

"You do. You need another on your forehead."

"It'll heal fine without it."

Your shoulders bunch like a cat on defense. You grab his cheek (gently, always gently) and his head whips to yours in surprise.

"Jason Todd, I am not tired of you. I'm tired of the fact that you only come by when you need fixing."

He scowls. "I never asked you to fix me. If you want me to leave, I'll leave."

"I don't want you to leave, I want you to stay!" you burst.

Jason scoffs. "No, you don’t. I'll overstay my welcome real fast."

"Maybe I care about you on purpose!" you say, voice rising. "Maybe I didn't stumble through a window; maybe I walked through the door and bought the bandaids and learned how to stitch wounds because I wanted to."

He suddenly looks overcome by grief. The agony in his face startles you.

"I don't know how to use the door anymore," he says quietly. "All I do is stumble through windows."

Your hand slips off of his cheek. Jason closes his eyes; they fly open when you stick the second bandaid above his eyebrow.

"You can come in any way you want to," you say, face an inch away from his. "As long as you come back to me."

His gaze darts to your mouth. You don't kiss him hard. He breaks anyway.

You avoid the right side of his mouth entirely, not wanting to pull at his cut. Jason shudders into your mouth. You cup his pulse through his neck and it quickens.

His eyes are wet when you pull away. His chest heaves like he's been swinging through the city.

"I wanna try to use the door," he says.

You touch the bandaid on his cheek, humming.

"Then I'll leave it unlocked."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x gender neutral reader #batman fanfiction #dc fanfic #batman imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n

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thevoidstaredback · 1 month

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Okay, so, crisis averted. Both of them, really. Red Robin had not asked or attempted to get any more of Danny's drink and the World Ending Crisis was less World Ending and more World Threatening. Either way, no one is hyped up in lethal amounts of caffeine and the world is in no more pieces than it had been before.

That brings attention to a new problem, though. It's uniquely Danny's problem and Constantine and Zatanna and Deadman won't stop laughing at him. He's also pretty sure that Raven is laughing at him in the privacy of her mind, so that's making him feel worse.

The problem is that every single hero that had been at the meeting a week ago that was not a part of the JLD has been overly concerned about him.

So what if he half died when he was fourteen and therefore will never look over either fourteen or eighteen? So what if he consumes enough caffeine to kill an elephant within a few minutes? What is he gonna do, die? That's not a real threat as long as he only fights as Phantom.

Ignoring the fact that he can, in fact, get hurt to the point of near death as Phantom. It's not like anyone knows that, though! Besides, ghosts run on god rules. They can't die, only fade when forgotten. People aren't likely to forget about most ghosts, though, even if they can't remember their names.

He's not gonna share that, though. Let Batman keep his contingency that won't work because the only contingency that will work for Phantom is the one he made himself. Tried and tested! He's marked it off of his Bingo Card.

Anyway. Heros and their kids/proteges have been trying to track him down for the entire week. He can't risk even leaving the House of Mysteries because the Supers are all probably listening out for him and they can't hear him through magic. It sucks. He just wants to go get a cup of coffee as Danny. The second he leaves, though, the Supers will be on him like bloodhounds. He'd leave as Danny, but the rest of the JLD don't know what he looks like as Danny and he'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much. Being stuck as Phantom was going to start causing issues to his human half if he doesn't get to leave soon.

Should he risk it? Is coffee that won't kill him really worth risking the Supers finding out his civilian identity? Sure, they wouldn't tell anyone, but he didn't like the idea of someone being able to pick him out of a crowd when all he wanted to do was blend in. It's why he avoided Gotham and Bludhaven, actually, but that's both self explanatory and another story for another time.

"You're still here?" Zatanna sat on the couch beside him. "You're normally gone by now. You can't not be tired of us yet."

He sighed and sunk down into the couch slightly. "Believe me, I'm tired of being stuck here, but I can't leave. I can't leave as a human because you guys don't know what I look like and, no offense, but I'd like to keep it that way. I can't leave as I am now because Superman will be on my ass quicker than I can blink!" He whined this time, "I just want a cup of coffee."

"What about your special brew?" Raven asked, coming into the room.

"I want to drink coffee as a human. That stuff will kill me if I drink it as a human."

"At least you know your limits."

"That sounded like a dig at someone, Z."

"It was."

"Why don't you just go out under a protection spell?" Raven offered, "We could cast one over you and you could leave. Superman can't hear through magic, so he won't be able to tell. Neither will Superboy."

Danny thought for a second. "You're a genius, Raven! Has anyone ever told you that?"

"A few times," she blushed.

"Well, it needs to be said more!"

Zatanna laughed. "Alright, kid, let's get you outside before you drive yourself crazy."

Practically vibrating in place, Danny waited for the protection spell to settle over him. The second it did, he was out the door and wandering the streets of whatever city the House of Mysteries decided to drop him as Danny instead of Phantom.

"Who are you," was not the question or voice he wanted to hear the second he stepped into the open as himself.

"Danny," he squeaked out through his absolute panic. He didn't dare turn around.

The sound of fabric moving minutely clues him in to the second person behind him. What the hell were these two doing out? It's the middle of the day and there's no attacks going on anywhere in Gotham!

"Where did you come from?" Robin asked.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! This was really bad! Why did the House drop him *here* of all places? Does it *want* him to die again? It was very painful the first time, thank you very much! "Illinois?"

"Was that a question or an answer?" Why is Red Robin here now?!

"An-an answer?"

"Ah, you guys are scaring the little guy!" That was Nightwing. They're surrounding him! Why is Nightwing here? This is Gotham, not Bludhaven. "Give him some room to breathe."

They did not, in fact, give him room to breathe. Maybe coming outside was a bad idea. If he gets out of this no more dead than he already was, he was going to move to the middle of nowhere and become a hermit. Smallville is a town in the middle of nowhere, right? He'll retire as Phantom and move to Smallville until the people get suspicious and burn him as a witch-!

Maybe moving to a big city would be a better idea. Or locking himself in the basement of the House of Mysteries. Yeah, yeah that's a good idea.

"-even listening?"

Oh shit. They were still talking to him! Now is not the time to panic! "Gottagobye!" And then he was running.

Good job not panicking, Danny.

Part 1 Part 3

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luveline · 6 months

Note

I'm in an angsty mood.. and I love love love Spencer x bombshell!reader.

maybe she gets hurt somehow (maybe like an unsub or something) but refuses to get checked out

ty for requesting!! sry this isn't super angsty

cw criminal minds typical gun violence

Blood is a strange thing. It can run quickly or slow, feel tepid or burning hot. It's warm and uncomfortable as it slinks down the curve of your shoulder to the very tip of your index finger, dark as coal pitch in the poor lightning.

The gunfight is promptly ended, so quickly that no one even knows you've been hit. Morgan throws himself at one unsub and the other is shot in the thigh. Your ears ring, a gun firing too close to your head, clearly.

In all the hubbub, nobody notices you're hurt.

You'd like to keep it that way.

It's not that you believe you're infallible, nor that the others believe it either, but in the grand scheme of things it is a very small cut that you can attend to in your hotel room alone with a butterfly stitch or even a roll of bandages. There's no way it requires real stitches, and no way you're gonna sit in the back of an ambulance for the next hour.

Your jacket is black. The wound clots itself while you're in the SUV —you choose a window where your arm faces away from everyone and you manage it. And truthfully… you would like the others to think you're smarter than getting hit by a stray bullet. After everything that's happened lately, you've reason to build yourself up. Let the others hold you in some prestige again.

It works for a time. You get back to the hotel, and everyone says goodnight. Your room is clean and waiting for your return.

You'd collapse into bed if it didn't mean you'd leave a bloody line on the linens. You shed your ruined jacket and throw it in the trash. Your shirt is split where the bullet nicked you, and that comes off next. The wound begins bleeding sluggishly at the agitation but doesn't erupt, and stays strong as you wipe the skin clean around it. Your fingers mar with copper stain, the face cloth you've sacrificed turning an ugly brown, but eventually you've cleaned the skin enough to see the damage.

It's deep but small. A nick.

The issue is your lack of bandages. It's a hotel room, a small one. There's no first aid kit and your go bag is sorely lacking. Which means…

You have to go bat your eyelids at someone, and if you're being honest, you only ever want to do that to one Dr. Spencer Reid.

He's not expecting you, clearly. You weren't expecting it either. "Hey," he says, rubbing his eyes, his pyjama pants flush to the floor.

"You were sleeping? I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, are you kidding me?" He opens the door wider to encourage you in, turning away from you as he murmurs, "S'like my dream."

He must be very tired. You beam like a fool and follow him inside. "I had a dream like this once, too. Same kind of dream, do you think?"

"Knowing you, probably." He's growing more comfortable with you, but he's still clearly a little flustered to be this suddenly presented with you, wrapping himself up in a cardigan hanging over the single sad chair. "What's up?"

"I'm glad you asked." You take your uninjured arm out of your coat, and then the other. You know what you're doing, laughing softly as his eyes turn to dark dimes in an otherwise pale face. "I need your help with something, Spence."

"Uh–" He stammers, looking you up and down with shock. "Um, I–" He licks his lips quickly. "Okay."

You kind of hate that you aren't there to seduce him for a split second. Too bad your arm has started to throb. "I need a bandaid," you say, turning your arm into his line of sight. "Help me out?"

—

"I know something you don't know," Morgan sing-songs. Emily sips her coffee, mildly interested by her friend's taunting. She doesn't give him any feeding, waiting, and sure enough he cracks. "What, you don't want to know?"

"You want to tell me, right?"

"Mm, no. I'll tell Penelope."

"Fine! Alright, what is it?" She breaks, putting her coffee down on the little table in front of her. They're sitting in the hotel lobby waiting for Hotch and the others to collect their things. The jet awaits, as do a few hours in the air before she gets to sleep in her own bed again.

"I saw–" Morgan laughs. "This is too good. I saw a certain bombshell visiting Reid last night. After hours."

Emily's heart kicks in. "No way!" she gasps. "I mean, I know there's something between them, we all know that, but– his room, seriously?"

"He didn't even question her. She knocked, he answered, she went inside."

"What were you doing up?"

"That's my business," Morgan says.

Emily leans forward to gossip. This is insane. Sure, you flirt with Spencer relentlessly, and sure, he blushes like he loves it the majority of the time, he even manages to get you back, but you're sleeping together? "This is so scandalous," she whispers.

Her job is hard, but God does Emily love her team. She's genuinely happy for you both, but seriously! She giggles to herself at the drama of it all, and Morgan looks like he might say more, but then he looks behind her and stops.

Emily turns. You and Spencer are walking out of the elevator together, and while you aren't looking more coupled than usual, Spencer's acting unusually. "You're sure you're okay?" he asks, hushed but carrying in the relatively quiet lobby.

"I promise I'm okay, Spence." Your voice drops. "It's our secret, okay?"

"Sure, but–" He takes your hand, there, where everyone can see, the love in the line of his shoulders clear to anyone who might be watching, which Emily and Morgan very much are. "Can I look at it again?"

Morgan laughs into his hand, hiding it with a cough too late. Emily kicks his leg and he looks admonished, but it doesn't convince you where you look up from your conversation, the same surprise written in your features as Emily herself feels while Spencer continues, "You need to let me take care of you," he says, practically pleading.

"Spencer," you say, looking Emily straight in the eye, "you took care of me just fine last night."

She gawps.

Spencer whispers in response to your lowered tone, making his answer partially inaudible, "It was my first…" He shakes his head. "I've never… and I know you said it didn't hurt that much but… go see a doctor–"

You stop him with an affectionate smile. "You could never hurt me, handsome. Do I look like I'm in pain?"

"No." Spencer drops your hand. "If you're sure. Let me go get you a drink, okay? Go sit down."

"Yes sir."

Nothing about you says anything different to usual as you sit on the lobby chair next to Morgan's, beside your worn hoodie. You fiddle with a fraying sleeve as you kick one leg over the other, giving your friends a pleased smile. "Morning," you say lightly.

Emily genuinely doesn't know what to say. Her mouth hangs slightly ajar. "I…"

"You're shameless," Morgan says with a laugh.

"Look," you say, shrugging though the action makes you wince, "I could tell you the truth and you wouldn't believe me."

"Sure we wouldn't. Reid looks like a lost puppy right now."

Spencer stands anxiously by the coffee machine across the way, his gaze locked solidly on you where you sit. You throw him a smile and he looks away.

"I don't deserve him," you say softly.

Spencer carries your bag for you all the way to the BAU. Emily doesn't think it's a question of deserving, though you do, only an example of Spencer's big heart. And, you know, post hookup appreciation, or something.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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stevieschrodinger · 1 month

Text

Everything is going slowly foggy. The fear is fading. Eddie's vaguely aware that it's probably because he's dying. What was terrifying a couple of minutes ago, is only vaguely of interest now. An ephemeral pressure on the back of his brain. Present, yet easy to ignore.

All he can taste is his own blood, but it's not so bad. At least he can tell Dustin how much he loves him. And Steve's there. Steve Harrington. Who knew he would turn out to be such a great guy? So, yeah. It all feels alright.

Eddie feels sleepy, vaguely aware that he's, actually, probably dying.

He closes his eyes.

There's a strange sense of vertigo, strange enough that Eddie notices he's standing up before he notices that someone's kissing him. It's a soft press of lips. It's wonderful.

Eddie blinks his eyes open, and from an inch away, he's looking at Steve Harrington.

He's standing in a kitchen. it's nice. Eddie's clean; he's wearing sweats and a tee. Barefoot. The kitchen smells like coffee, and sun is shining in through the window.

Somewhere in the house, a child sequels; Eddie startles. "Steve?" He asks, carefully. "I mean...not that it isn't-"

The child comes barreling into the room. It's a little girl. She's wearing the smallest Dio shirt Eddie's ever seen. She throws herself at Eddie's legs, screaming "Papa!"

Eddie has no idea what his face is doing as he looks down at this little girl, but Steve is taking his hand, tugging it, Eddie looks up, "it happened again, didn't it? You forgot again?"

"I...what?"

Steve scoops up the little girl, throwing her over his shoulder, she squeals again, laughing like this is the best thing ever, "come on pumpkin patch, Papa's not feeling so hot today and auntie Robin's going to be here in two whole minutes."

He looks back to Eddie, mouthing 'just wait, okay?'

Eddie, at a loss, just nods.

He creeps to the doorway, watching, fascinated, as Steve Harrington fixes the little girls hair into pig tails. Helps her get her socks straight. Helps her tie the laces on her sneakers. Gets her back pack on her, "eat your carrot sticks today, okay Ronnie?"

'Ronnie,' Eddie mouths to himself.

Watches as Steve puts her little hand into Robin's, standing on the front porch. Robin looks different. Older. She's smartly dressed.

Steve whispers something to her, and she looks at Eddie. Smiles a sad smile. They leave.

Steve stands there for a moment, waves them off, then closes the door. He seems to steal himself, and then he turns and comes back to Eddie, "I have to go to work, but, come on, let me show you something."

Eddie follows Steve into an office, there's shit everywhere, "I don't come in here often, your mess drives me fucking batshit," Steve digs into a desk drawer, brings out a notebook. "I have no idea what's in here, I've never read it. Something about...what happened. You did die. You were oxygen deprived long enough to cause a brain injury, so sometimes you...forget everything. After the second time it happened, you started writing letters to yourself. So, yeah...you call it your instruction manual, I get it for you when this happens."

It takes Eddie what feels like a really fucking long time to process this, and he can't help but notice that Steve's eyes are wet, Eddie feels crushingly guilty about it.

"Okay so what do I...do?"

Steve shrugs, "read it, I guess. You add to it whenever anything important happens...Eddie...just, the bats, they did a number on you...when you, when you look at the scars, the first time, just, brace yourself, okay and...don't forget that I love you, no matter what, I love you."

And Steve just...leaves the house. Leaves Eddie in this absolute disaster of an office. Leaves him holding a notebook that's ratty and untidy and feels like it's bursting at the seams.

Eddie reads.

So, I'm going to try and keep this simple, but I'm you, from the past, and our dumb ass has fucking brain damage...

You're not going to fucking believe this...we bagged Steve Harrington...

Hold on to your hat big boy, but we got fucking published! And if you're reading this, then you are in for a treat, because it means you get to read our genius for the first time all over again...

Okay, so this one was a bad one, we initially, didn't react so well, so, here's what I was worried about, and I'll talk you through it...

So, I need you to not fuck this up for us, okay? So, this is the Steve Harrington play book. The man is romantic, buy flowers, do nice shit. I cannot stress this enough - just pick up your crap man, he hates it when the place is messy. Now, we have to get it right so here's everything I know, I'll start at the top and work down. He loves having his hair played with, and tugged, but not too hard, gentle but firm, there's a sweet spot. The neck, the whole thing is an erogenous zone, I really can't downplay the importance of the neck...

We bought a fucking house! Look at it! Just look at it! And Eddie does, because there's a Polaroid stuck to the page.

So, this might sound dumb, and I probably should have written to you sooner, but...Steve jizzed in a cup for Robs, and Nancy turkey basted it, you know. Anyway, the point is...Rob's pregnant. With our baby. And then me and Nance got drunk, like, to celebrate, and she got all sad that her and Robin weren't having a baby, stay with me, I know this is mad as shit, but Nancy wanted our kid and their kid to grow up together....

Look, I don't know if it's the stress of like, imminent fatherhood, but we've been forgetting a lot lately, so, here's the plan for when Rob's in labor, and everything you've talked to Steve about when it comes to being the stay at home parent, okay...

The next page is just a Polaroid, a little scrunched up face. A little pink potato swaddled in blankets, and underneath it says 'Ronnie Jamie Harrington'...

And the next page, another Polaroid, another scrunched up face, another little pink potato swaddled in blankets, and underneath it says 'Stephanie Edwina Wheeler'...

Steve comes home. He looks exhausted. Like, drained. And, worried and scared and pale and lots of other things Eddie can't even begin to imagine. Eddie holds his arms out and Steve practically throws himself into them, "how long does it take, for me to get back to normal?"

Steve shrugs, "it's different every time, but it's a good sign you're still here, sometimes you run. Those times are the worst ones."

Six weeks later, Eddie writes to himself, "do not, under any circumstances, run away..."

Eddie thinks he's seeing things. Thinks maybe he's going senile. But he hasn't forgotten for...well, it's been years now. At least seven or eight. And yeah, Ronnie might be about to finish high school and Steve might be stressed to fuck over her college applications, but...Eddie's glad. He's glad she's spreading her wings. He's glad they managed to produce a stand up human being.

He's really glad her and Steph are trying for the same colleges, they're always going to have each other.

But yea...he's worried his mind is kind of...slipping. Hasn't told Steve. Doesn't want to worry him. They're both sprouting a few gray hairs, no need to add to those.

But sometimes. Sometimes when Eddie looks out of the window, he thinks, for a moment, that the sky is dark and...it looks like snow?

And sometimes, Eddie catches himself in the mirror, and he's sure he's dirty. A mess. Covered in blood but...no. He walks back a step, checks again. Everything is fine.

Sometimes he's sees movement out of the corner of his eye.

Sometimes, in the beat of the music or the rumble of the car engine, he swears he hears things. Sometimes a voice. Sometimes it sounds like they're yelling.

Sometimes it sounds like Steve.

And once, he blinked awake, Steve bringing him a coffee. But it wasn't Steve, for the time between startled, half asleep blinks, it was Vecna.

It gets worse.

Something isn't right. The house is empty, and it shouldn't be.

He can hear Steve, but he can't find him. And that's silly because the house isn't that big. He searches and searches, growing more frantic. He calls back to Steve, but Steve...doesn't seem to hear him.

There's something dim about the light, but the light has always been that way, hasn't it? Something...dusty, in the air. Eddie feels like he's dreaming. He has to be dreaming; there's a crack in the living room wall. A crack that spreads and lengthens until the whole house is crumbling and Eddie can see clearly now that the sky here flashes red.

That it's always been flashing red.

How did he not see before? The dust on every surface? The pages of his notebook are blank. Eddie knows. He's always known.

Steve.

Steve is here. He's hanging from Eddie's fist, bruised and bloodied and begging Eddie. Begging Eddie to stop this, to hear him, to see him. It's Steve.

It's Eddie's Steve.

Next to him, Vecna says, "finish it."

Eddie has something in his hand, the hilt of something he's sure of, long and sharp and dependable.

Eddie doesn't think, he just moves.

He drops Steve.

He doesn't need to look. Eddie turns, and he swings.

Part Two

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #pre getting together #sort of #my writing #robin buckly #ronance #nancy wheeler #kas eddie munson #vecna #steddie dreamed life

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007reid · 7 months

Note

sub spence returning from prison :( hasn’t been inside for way too long and he’s extra whiny and sensitive </3 and reader is usually more teasing but after being so long she’s just soft and giving to everything he desires

FERAAALLLL!!! enjoy hun🤍

dreams. spencer reid (18+)

spencer reid x fem!reader, 3k (it got a bit out of control...)

summary: exactly what the prompt says😻 tiny bit of angst cuz it’s post prison spencer, cmon

warnings: sub spencer x dom fem!reader, masturbating (fem), unprotected sex, p in v, handjob, fingering, riding, creampie, cum play kinda. just spencer being a pathetic lil boy. tell me if i missed anything!

spencer’s been more closed off, and you get it. you do. you had expected more excitement, more of the banter and things to go back like normal like it was before it happened but you know it’s all wishful thinking. it hurts, to accept that your spencer isn’t really your spencer anymore, it’s that damned prison’s spencer; not your sweet spencer who wears scarves and has christmas lights in his eyes all year long but the prison’s spencer who looks half dead and trudging through everyday miserable.

you know he’s trying his best too, and that part hurts the most. he tries to smile for you, tries to replace all the pieces and put it back but no piece fits. you keep reassuring yourself. baby steps. you’ll make it work. you’ll have to.

today has been your favorite day yet, and the day has barely even started. instead of being on the other side of the bed, curling up into himself and staying as far away from you as possible, you wake up to find his head buried in your neck with his arm thrown over your stomach, curls tickling your jaw.

“im afraid to touch you, y/n,” spencer had admitted, his first week back. he looked guilty and ashamed. “you’re too clean for me to touch. my hands are dirty. they’re always dirty.”

still sleepy, you reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers, tracing the skin of his wrist. at the touch, spencer immediately jolts awake and backs himself up before the sleepiness even clears from his face. your boy used to be able to sleep through turbulence on the plane and your heart breaks at the anxiety in his eyes.

his breathing is rushed as he settles down, unconsciously scooting further away from you as you try latching onto the sleeve of his shirt. "sorry, i'm sorry," you whisper over and over. "i'm sorry honey, i didn't mean to--"

"i know you didn't," spencer snaps and you backtrack. his face crumbles and he hides his head in his hands. the table turns and sorry's falls out his mouth like rain drops during a storm. "i don't mean to snap, i just got scared, in the cell i..." he trails off, frowning at himself. ever since he's got back he refuses to tell you about anything that's happened in there, stopping and cutting himself off whenever he accidentally does and you guess it's for the better. "'m sorry." he brush away the sheets and gets off the bed. "i'll be right back."

you know better than to follow as he heads to the bathroom, door closing shut and locked behind him. you stare at the dent in the mattress that's finally there after sleeping alone for three months and hops off the bed yourself, going to make coffee.

***

spencer starts relaxing as the day goes on, not by much but you notice it. he probably feels bad for what happened in the morning and just wants to make it up to you by being what you want him to be; soft and affectionate like he used to and finally letting himself to touch you, linger his fingers over your arm as he passes you while you make breakfast and sitting close enough to where you both touch.

it's night, and you're in a simple tank, ready for bed. spencer's head is in your lap and the tv plays a random show but your attention is on smoothing out the spencer's curls, tugging and pulling until you get a purring spencer reid in your lap, eyes closed and humming contently to himself.

"you tired yet?" you ask, eyes on the tv. spencer nuzzles his head closer to your stomach.

"mhm. no."

"kay," you dip your head down, sparing a kiss on the pouting boy's lips, aiming for a light, sweet peck because spencer's not really ready for anything else otherwise but you're surprised when he starts to deepen it, teeth nagging at your bottom lip, asking. out of breath, you pull back and he sits up from your lap, crashing into you again and he's insistent, needy as little pants fall from his lips as you press him against the couch, climbing on top of him.

"missed you so much," spencer breathe, hands closing around your hips and tugging you closer. legs positioned outwards from either side of his torso, he moans into your mouth when the heat of your clothed pussy rub gently against his hardening cock and you miss this almost as much as you miss him, spending all three months either too depressed to do anything or cumming from your fingers and then hugging his pillow later.

you run your thumb over the spit on his lip, crooning. "look so pretty," you whisper, rutting against his hips. spencer whines, soft and desperate, a hand hesitantly coming up to grope at your breast, sandwiching your hardening nipple between his fingers. "been so long, spence, you forgot how to touch me?" you tease at the unsureness and awkwardness in the way he moves to touch you. spencer shakes his head frantically.

"dreamt about you," he says eagerly, pressing his lips on the side of your mouth and then all over your face. "every night. missed you so so bad. fuck, y/n," he gasps as you start grinding on him, impatient.

you kiss him hard, pussy clenching and unclenching around nothing as you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, just having him like this, pliant and here and not away. "what," you say, between kisses, each one messier and rushed than the last. "what did you dream about?" spencer whines. "hm?"

he falters, face getting visibly red under the dim lighting. he mumbles something under his breath, and you sneak a hand between your pressed bodies, palming him through his navy owl pajamas. "speak up, honey," you say, and spencer squirms, bucking his hips forward into your palm.

"i dreamed a lot of dreams," he says in a rush, breathing heavily, cheeks rosy. it's not the answer you're looking for. you tut.

"you know that's not what i asked, spence," you say, hand on his jaw as you push his face up to look at you. his eyes are blown wide, pupils dilated and lips red and parted, looking the spitting image of what you've been fingerfucking yourself to for months.

he whimpers, words stuck to his throat, embarrassed. you press your hand harder against his dick and his head knocks into your shoulder, burying his face in your neck, too humiliated to look at you in the eyes. "i dreamed you touched yourself and rode me and said i couldn't touch and couldn't cum but i did anyway 'cause i'm fucking pathetic," he confesses against your skin. "woke up and couldn't even touch myself cause of my cellmates and i--" your hands slip under his shirt and spencer does a full body shiver, your fingers hot against his skin.

"does that mean you haven't cum since you've been in there baby?" spencer ignores you, too distracted as you sway your hips against his rock hard cock. "spencer,"

he whines, and that's enough of an answer for you. "my poor baby," you coo, digging your fingers into his hair. "so wind up."

"need you," he whimpers, hands frantically clawing at your side, trying to touch as much of you as possible. "needa be in you, please. please,"

"in bed baby," you kiss him sweetly, wrapping your legs around his waist as he stands, supporting you with only one arm. you leave hickies on his neck while you wait for him to reach the bedroom, running your tongue over his skin to soothe them.

he lays you on the bed gently, tall frame towering over you as he sets you down but spencer still cowers under you despite it all. you remove your shirt and shorts as he settles down and when you turn around, he's staring, unabashedly, cock making an obvious dent in his thin pajamas, and the opportunity basically presented itself.

you start to slowly spread your legs, propping yourself up with your elbows and trailing a hand between your legs to rest at your lace panties. a devilish smirk on your face as spencer’s adam’s apple bobs visibly, brown eyes hungry and waiting as you press slight pressure on your clothed clit, knocking your head back.

spencer scrambles up to a sitting position, anxiously looking at you. “y/n,” he says, voice unusually high, flustered. “don’t—“ his voice breaks off as you start moving your fingers in circle-eights, sighing to yourself. “don’t—come here.”

you shoot him a warning look when he starts coming closer. spencer freezes. “thought this was what you wanted, pretty boy,” you purr. there is already a patch of wetness in your panties, and you linger your fingers at the waistband.

“not now,” spencer whines, insistent. “i’m so hard, wanna be in you so bad, please,” and despite how much prison had hardened him up, turned him into an entirely different person, spencer is still luckily the same in bed; easy to wind up and begs to get what he wants. too often it doesn’t work in his favor. tonight it might.

“you know what to do, baby boy,” you tell him, nudging your underwear off and tossing it somewhere in the room. spencer backs off, curling up into himself as his eyes remain pasted on you, watching. staring. you’re soaked, rubbing slowly at your clit, the air cool against your pussy. you keep an eye open, watching spencer for his ticks and reactions and it turns you on even more, seeing how desperate and needy he is, trying to rut against the sheets as you dip a finger inside yourself.

“none of that spence,” you tut. “you know that’s not the rules.”

he sighs frustratedly, stopping in his tracks, ever the good and obedient boy for you. you continue to play with yourself, slowly working up to two fingers and pressing down on your clit with your thumb, hearing spencer’s indiscreet panting from the other side of the bed as he watches, puppy eyes in full effect as he silently begs to have you closer. you whine as you curl your fingers inside yourself, and spencer’s just about had it.

“y/n,” he pleas, sounding like he’s about to cry. “i—it’s hurts, i wanna…”

you take pity on him. you’re all stripped naked and he’s still fully clothed, down to the halloween themed socks. “what do you want honey?”

“i—“ spencer gasps, squirming on the sheets. “uuhhgg…gonna cum i—“

“you gonna cum just from watching me touch myself?” you ask, amused. fair enough, he hasn’t cum in three months and you’re surprised he’s not permanently hard at this point. “gonna cum in your pants like a teenager spence? how pathetic are you?”

“y/n!” his voice trembles and he sounds so sweet, so needy for you and you give in. it’s hard not to, and you keep up at the act but at the end of the day spencer always gets what he wants. the begging strategy does do him some good.

you crawl over to him, placing yourself on his lap and he’s extremely hard beneath you, cock curving up from the thinness of his pajamas, getting a real good look at him. his eyes are rimmed red and tears are threatening to spill out and you lift his shirt over his head. “god youre so fucking beautiful,” you throw his shirt off the bed, tilting his head up to look at you. spencer groans at your words, hands immediately going to touch you, roaming your bare skin and nails digging into your waist.

“missed you,” he whimpers, lips at your neck as you get his bottoms off. “want this everyday, think of you everyday, fuck—“

“so hard for me honey,” you coo, stroking him through his underwear and then getting that off too. his cock, finally naked presses against his stomach, is a raging red, beads of precum leaking at the tip. “prettiest boy,” you whisper in his ear, taking his cock in your hand, smearing the precum over his cock as soft whimpers falls out of his mouth, inching closer to your touch.

“y/n,” he says, and it seems like it’s the only thing he can say. “y/n, y/n—“ you start to grind on him, sliding your pussy against his cock and spencer turns delirious, squeezing at your hips and wanton sounds coming out of his mouth, begging and cursing for nothing at all. the head of his cock rubs against the entrance of your pussy and the both of you moan, hips collapsing into each other.

his fingers finds their way to your entrance and begins prodding, and you whine as his middle finger slides in, thick and just right and it’s the feeling you’ve been trying to replicate but can’t get. “you’re so tight yn, fuck,”

“add another finger, spence,” you demand. spencer does, and the stretch burns only temporarily and you whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and reeling yourself in so you can be as close to him as possible. lifting your hips, you start to fuck yourself on his fingers, impatient and horny and spencer is looking at you with fucking stars in his eyes, awed.

you never get too emotional or whiny during sex, that’s mostly all spencer but you can’t help bury your face in the dip of his shoulder blades and muffle your high moans against his skin, just glad that your spencer is back and this isn’t a cruel dream. spencer pulls his fingers out and you let out a displeased sigh. reaching down, you take spencer’s cock in your hands, smeared all over the tip with his precum and your wetness and spencer’s breath hitches in this throat, nearly jumping away at your touch.

you slowly guide his dick to your entrance, lifting your hips and all spencer does is watch, getting special treatment as you do all the work, slapping his dick against your pussy, eliciting a filthy sound from the both of you before rubbing the head of his cock against your open pussy. before he’s even in, spencer is already making these ridiculous noises, begging and panting and whimpering, hair falling into his eyes and sweat beading on his nose.

you quickly swoop down in a brave motion, bottoming out and it hurts, only temporarily before the stretch eases into pleasure and you miss it, miss him, so damn much and spencer’s already in another fucking world, nails digging at your hips.

“fuck, fuck, y/n—“ he whimpers weakly, chanting your name like a mantra as you start to move your hips, riding yourself on his cock. you know he can’t last any longer and you’re surprised he’s even managed to last this long so far, pulling out until your pussy is clenching at the tip of his cock and slamming yourself into his hips, and everytime time you do this spencer makes the prettiest noises, coughing up the moans struggling to come out of his mouth and tear tracks staining his cheeks, begging to cum.

“please, please yn don’t do that,” you do it again. “i…i—pull off, i’m gonna cum i’m not gonna last!” he cries, cock pulsing inside you and you know he’s not lying. you can read spencer’s body in the dark or light like it’s your own and you can feel your orgasm steadfastly approaching too, the heat building gradually at the pit of your stomach.

you start going faster, dropping yourself down to his cock and bottoming out at every thrust, his cock finding the tip of your spot every time. “yn,” spencer repeats. “gonna cum, stop please i—hnnnggg—“

“cum in me, sweet boy,” you press a kiss on his jaw, locking your fingers on his curls to pull his head back by his hair, making him look at you in the eye. spencer arguably looks the prettiest when he cums, and you never miss the show.

“i…what?” debaunched and fucked-dumb, it takes a second for spencer to understand what you mean. “you sure?”

“shut the hell up spence,” you groan, bringing him closer, chests flat against each other. you keep going at your thrusts, slipping a hand to rub at your soaked, swollen clit as spencer’s moans get higher and higher until his entire body is trembling, his eyes squeezed shut. “fucking—cum in me, honey.”

you know the exact moment when he cums because you did too, his face scrunching up in what almost looks like pain as you start to feel something warm bleed inside you and it feels like fucking heaven. your walls spasm around his cock, milking him as you orgasm, squeezing your intertwined fingers for dear life.

when you’ve both gained back your breaths, spencer lightly stroking the skin of your stomach where he can press and feel himself beneath of and you pressing more hickies on his chest and neck, you speak. “was that as good as your dream?”

your voice comes out more distorted than you thought, raspy and your throat is slightly sore. spencer laughs quietly.

“a hundred times better,” he’s quick to respond, earnest. “no brainer.” when you pull off of him and collapses by his side, he leaks out of you, wetting and trailing down your inner thighs.

spencer slides a hand there and slowly starts to finger his cum back into you lazily and you open up your legs for him, loose and wet from the orgasm. “you’re so full of me,” he says, sounding pleased with himself. his fingers scissors you open wider, patiently fucking you with them. you hold his other hand as spencer kisses you. “mine. all mine.” he presses down on your clit and you shake, your second orgasm hitting you like a soft wave. he keeps the pressure there despite you trying to close your legs, shivering all over, nipples hard and stomach rising. “all mine.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #sub spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #sub!spencer #dr spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #my works

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inmaki · 1 month

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as an apology for my constant disappearing here is a preview for my virgin nanami fic, hopefully done by the end of this month <3

hurt (comfort in full fic), making out, nanami being dumb

nanami kento was an orderly man.

not a single strand of his golden hair ever strayed from its place. his tie was never too far to the right or the left — only smack dab in the middle against his built chest.

his crisp, navy shirt didn't dare have a wrinkle on it, much like his allen edmond shoes that were free from any creases despite being worn every day for years.

it made you want to ruin him. ruin such perfection in all his towering glory.

and you did - at least, at much as nanami would let you.

intense makeout sessions happened every so often: during impromptu movie nights on the couch, in the morning under the warmth of your shared blankets, and especially after extra-hard days at work.

yet it never went further, no matter how hard you tried to initiate anything — whether it be a hand sliding down too low, or a soft moan into his mouth, nanami would be fumbling up an excuse to leave immediately. just like now.

"mmph.. 'missed you," you mumble against his swollen lips, sucking the bottom one greedily. the man had only just walked into the kitchen when you'd practically pounced on him in hunger.

despite his surprise, kento gives you the privilege of running your nails through his once-perfectly-slicked-back hair, grunting as you yank him even closer with his tie, loosening it in the process.

"missed you too, honey." even the simplicity of his giant hands caressing your waist sends a rush of arousal through your body, humming as you rub a hand down the solid ridges of his abs. he tasted like the coffee he'd probably been sipping languidly throughout the day, mixed in with the natural flavor of him.

memories of the sorcerer slipping in and out of the shower shirtless — toned torso on display and all — were some of the hardest in your book. occasionally, you would joke to him about dropping your panties then and there. you never actually dropped them (that could easily change if he so asked), but you were pretty much hanging on to them for dear life every afternoon.

and in response to your compliment, nanami would only chuckle nervously before shutting the door behind him to change in the closet. an ugly feeling would blossom in your chest every time at his lack of enthusiam or reciprocation to your desire, though you never let the thought spiral.

a few minutes later, your lips remained glued to his, passionately making out against the counter while continuing your adventure around his body, never straying below his belt.

nanami felt dizzy as he finally pushed away to take a breath. usually he was quite good at keeping up with your ineffable needs — he placed the blame on his depletion from work.

a groan involuntarily escapes him as you lower your lips to suck beneath his jawline, bound to leave a mark. "my love, what's got you so worked up?" he inquires with closed eyes, tilting his head up to give you further access.

you hum in approval of the action, sucking even harder. "told you, i missed you."

before you could stop to think, your hand that was once on his abs instinctively moved lower to rest just above his bulge, and then everything stopped.

with a shaky clear of his throat, nanami pushes off the counter, forcing you to back away while his hands drop to his beige dress pants.

your brows furrow. "what-"

"i'm gonna take a shower." his eyes avert, adam’s apple bobbing smoothly.

not another word follows as your boyfriend paces to the apartment's shared bedroom, leaving you to drown in your cynical thoughts.

if u wanna be tagged comment/send an ask! srry this is short but the full fic is much longer!!! i am like 3/4 done! i js procrastinate writing the smut (also the reason part 2 of my gojo fic is taking forever) T-T

read virgin gojo while u wait <3

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bloomries · 1 year

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AREN'T YOU FORGETTING SOMETHING?

﹙ ✿ ﹚── includes : the seven demon brothers (lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor).

﹙ ✿ ﹚── synopsis : uh-oh, you've forgotten to say you're good morning 'i love you'/kisses!

﹙ ✿ ﹚── warnings : 2nd person pov. gn! reader.

LUCIFER

whether you've forgotten earnestly, or were doing it to tease him, it would be in your best interest to never do that again.

Lucifer's mornings always start the same way; With him waking much earlier than you. He'll stay in bed longer than he lets on, simply to feel your warmth for an extra minute or two. Then he'll proceed to get up, get dressed, brush his teeth, drink some coffee, and eventually begin on paperwork. After a little while, you'll wake up and give him a kiss and tell him 'good morning' or something of the sort— and it's just about that time you'll be waking up.

As the minutes begin to pass, his brow begins to furrow. Where are you? He cannot continue on with his morning without this essential part of his routine! Well, he can, but he doesn't want to. Perhaps you've overslept?

Lucifer finds himself standing in front of his plush bed, but your body isn't there anymore. Where in the world were you? Lucifer's frown deepens, and he turns around at the sound of a door opening.

"Oh-!" You're shocked to see him standing there, pouting. He'd usually be in his office by now, what was he doing scolding at the side of the bed? You give him a glance over, looking at him as if he's grown two heads— which proves to irritate his already foul mood. "Is everything okay?"

"Where were you?"

"Using the bathroom." You state, thinking it was obvious since you just came out of the master bathroom that was connected to his room. "What's wrong?" You ask, but Lucifer refuses to tell you, embarrassed perhaps? He just sighs, looking off in the other direction.

"Well, if you don't tell me, I can't fix it." You state matter-of-factly, making your way towards him. He grumbles that you 'forgot something important' and you begin to wrack your brain for what you could be forgetting. It's not an anniversary or a birthday, nor a date. It's not your turn to make breakfast or do the laundry either.

"Nevermind." Lucifer exhales, "It was childish anyways." Beginning to recognize his silly behavior, he decides to just end the ordeal before he make a fool of himself— that is, until you catch his hand and pull him towards you, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"I didn't forget, I literally just woke up. Moping around because you thought I forgot to give you a 'good morning' kiss. You're becoming a softie, Lucifer." An annoyed breath leaves his lips, arms crossed over his chest as you continue to coo and tease him. He just hopes his cheeks aren't growing red from how hot they feel.

MAMMON

he will never, ever, ever let you forget— whether that be because of his incessant whining or not, who knows?

Mammon swears he's never seen someone look so good in the mornings, yet there you are. He rolls on to his side, watching as you get ready for the day. Surprisingly, he stays quiet, waiting patiently for his gift to arrive before you leave— and finally you take notice of his awakened form.

"Oh, good, you're awake." You smile, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He closes his eyes, tilting his head towards you in a familiar fashion. "I promised Asmo I'd help him with something, it'll probably take us a while." You inform him, but he isn't really listening, he just wants his kisses and 'i love you.'

But it doesn't come, instead a "I'll be leaving now," is what he hears and Mammon won't have it.

"Hold on- Wait- Ya really just gonna leave like that?" He whines, managing to push himself upwards to sit on the bed. "You can't leave yet." He's giving a mix of a glare and a sad pout that makes your stomach swirl with guilt.

"Well, I did promise Asmo... But I'll try and come back soon-"

"No, not that!" Mammon huffs, "I'm talkin' about- Wait, can you do that too?" You nod, chuckling at his excitement at the prospects of you coming back early- but don't think he's forgotten his original train of thought. "A- Anyways, I mean, aren't ya forgettin' somethin'?"

"Hm?" And even though you originally seemed to have genuinely forgotten, the way you hummed makes it seem as though you're teasing him. "Am I? Whatever could I be forgetting? No, I'll just be leaving now~"

"Noooo," Mammon groans, nearly falling off the bed in an attempt to get to you. "C'mon, don't make me say it." You simply wait, just staring at him with such a playful look that he knows he'll have to say it if he wants to get what he wants. He sighs, burying his face into your side.

"Damn it... Say ya love me 'n shit..."

Stifling a laugh, not wanting to push your luck, you run your fingers through his hair. "I love you." You lean down and press a kiss to his forehead. "I'll be back as soon as I can be." Mammon's grip tightens on you, not wanting to let you go, but ultimately letting go, grumbling how you better not keep him waiting for his good morning kiss next time.

LEVIATHAN

don't- don't do this to him— hasn't he been through enough? he'll be thinking about it all throughout the day, and at the end, he'll be a sniveling mess.

Levi is waiting... and waiting... and waiting... And then he watches you wake up and anticipation and excitement swirl around in his stomach (nearly making him nauseous) as he thinks about the lovely kiss you'll bestow upon him, and your kind words that'll fill him up with energy. But he's still waiting, watching as you get ready in a groggy manner... and still waiting... and still waiting right up until you say you'll make sure to take notes for him in class today.

And then you're gone. Levi feels his heart drop to his stomach, his grip on the arms of his gaming chair tightening and nails nearly breaking the leather. Why... Why didn't you say it? Where is the warmth of your kiss?

As if he isn't already in his head enough, he begins to overthink his actions. Did he do something to upset you? Or did you think he smelt so bad that you didn't want to kiss him? Did he forget something important? Or did you finally grow disgusted by the mere presences of him?

Trying to take his mind off of it, he tries gaming, but it's useless. He's losing everything because he's not in the right flow- not without your kisses. And losing his games makes him angry and envious of others. And soon enough he's in his demon form, wearing down the keycaps on his keyboard and nearly breaking his computer mouse.

And then sorrow kicks in and he's just staring at the ground, pondering his life. Geez, had he truly become some normie so obsessed with affection? Is he truly the same man who used to be just fine with some love meter gaining points on a game? Now he needs to hear 'i love you' and get kisses and be held and- Ew, he begins to loathe himself even more.

"I'm back, can I come in?" You ask on the other side of the door. He doesn't respond- not even to ask for a password- so you open the door and peek in to see him hugging himself, sniffling.

"L- Levi?" You enter, shutting the door behind you before rushing over to him. "What's wrong?"

"D- Do you hate me? Do I repulse you now?" He whimpers, and when you say a solemn 'no!' he just gives you a pout. "T- Then why... Why did you say you love me?"

"I'm sorry, I was in such a rush I-" You sigh, holding him close to you, rubbing circles into his back as his tail wraps around you protectively. "I love you very much." You give him a kiss, and then another, and another, and another until he's begging you to stop and to let him breathe- he's not used to so much affection at once yet!

You'll most certainly never forget again, but he promises to (try to) take the initiative to remind you, if you do.

SATAN

oh? two can play this game! what? oh, the cup of coffee/tea he usually makes you? no, no, that's reserved for people who say 'i love you' to their partner in the morning.

Satan is a patient man, but upon you about to leave for breakfast without saying it once irks him enough to voice his demands. "Say, aren't you forgetting something?" You look over him, and a sly smile forms on your lips.

"Am I? Hmm, I don't think so, no."

Oh. Oh you know, and he knows you know. His eye twitches, annoyance coursing through his veins. A small staring contest ensues, one that neither of you win as Asmodeus jumps in front of you and whisks you away to the dining room to eat some breakfast. Satan huffs, fine, he can play this game too!

When you return Satan is reading a book, almost too calmly, until you notice it's the book you've been reading!

"Hey, isn't that my book? Where's my bookmark?"

"Hm? Is it? I must've forgotten— oh, so that random piece of paper was your bookmark? I threw it away, thought it was trash." Satan says, flipping to the next page as nonchalant as he could, not sparring you a glance as he began to read it's contents.

"You-"

"You," Satan cuts you off, "Started it." You blink. Well, yeah, that was true, but you didn't think he'd take it so seriously- You just wanted to hear him say he wanted a kiss, to hear you say 'i love you', to tease him a little. You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. But you're certainly not going to back down.

"Fine. Be that way."

Your day continues on, both you and Satan being petty towards one another and growing in spiteful actions until finally you give— because no one can outdo Satan in pettiness. "Alright, I'm sorry." You groan, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and then his nose, and then his lips. "I love you, good morning- er, well, good night?"

"Hah, took you long enough..." A pause, before he's got a smile on his lips. "I love you too... Now don't forget to say it tomorrow."

Everyone is thankful you two finally figured it out because you really did switch the sugar with salt and Satan did curse a lot of doorknobs.

ASMODEUS

do you wish him dead? because it certainly seems that way! you're depriving him of what he wants, and nobody does that to the lovely Asmodeus~

"Oh, good morning, darling." Asmodeus says as he watches you pass by him through the mirror. He's doing his skincare whilst you begin on splashing water on to your face. He glances at you— weird, you didn't give him a sweet little kiss. "Hmm..."

And as he fixes his hair, you pass by him again with yet another opportunity to kiss him gone! He gasps, setting the curling iron down and turning around to point an accusatory finger at you.

"You- I know you're usually impervious to my charm but missing the chance to kiss me twice?" He clutches his heart, "Say it isn't so! Do you- Do you no longer love me? Is that it? Is that why you-"

You walk over to him, your tired eyes peering into his. His words die in his throat, nervously meeting your eyes. Had he gone too far? He knew he was being a little dramatic, but it was mostly that, dramatics- flare- he was only joking, teasing, why did you look so serious? Wait- did you actually... no longer love-

"Asmo," You gently take his wrists, grabbing his attention.

"Hm?" He squeaks it out, his heart skipping a beat. If it weren't for the fact you could possibly tell him you didn't love him anymore, he would find this whole situation totally hot! Something out of one of those silly romance games Levi plays!

"I love you, but last time I kissed you without brushing my teeth you scolded me for three hours." You hold up a bottle of toothpaste. "I was just getting some more toothpaste."

"O- Oh! Oh, haha, of course..." He faintly touches his hot, rosy cheeks. "So... You do love me?"

"More than anything." You say, "Now will you let me brush my teeth so I can kiss you?" Asmo didn't bother to hide the grin that grew as he stepped to the side, letting you past him to brush you teeth.

And of course you followed through with your words, giving him plenty of good morning kisses with minty fresh breath.

BEELZEBUB

*cue kicked puppy face* now he won't outright say what's wrong, but its pretty obvious somethings upsetting him- fix it soon, his sad face isn't good for anyone's heart!

Beelzebub just got back from his morning jog when he spotted your figure sitting up, finally have woken from your peaceful slumber. "Good morning!" He chirped, in quite the chipper mood now that you're awake. You just grumble something under your breath, rubbing the sleepiness out of your eyes with the heel of your palm.

Waiting for you to wake up, he tells you about what he saw on his jog, recounting many interesting tales of what happens before 10 in the morning. "Really?" You chuckle at a few stories, stretching out your body. "Ha, I've got some work to do today..." You mumble, "I'll probably be home late."

"I'll wait for you." He says, giving you that charming smile that sends your stomach fluttering. "Or maybe I'll visit, you just started the job at the new café, right? They have burgers?"

"Mmhm," You get up, getting ready... You still haven't done it yet, Beelzebub notices, upon the silence the settles over the two of you. Usually the silence is nice, comfortable, but you can tell something is wrong— especially when you peek at Beelzebub through the mirror. He looks like a kicked puppy.

Heart clenching in your chest, you turn around and tilt your head. "What's wrong, bub?"

"It's nothing..." He says, but you can tell somethings bothering him. You walk over to him, giving him a pointed look. "Really, it's nothi-" Gently taking his face in your hands, you pull him down to press a kiss to his forehead. The change in his mood could be record changing.

"Tell me what's wrong," Beel wraps his arms around you, pulling you tightly against him.

"It's all better now," He chuckles, nuzzling into you. Still a bit confused, you can sense the difference in his attitude.

"Well, if you say so." You pat his back, pressing another kiss to his cheek that has his mood lifting even more. Hm, but what could've caused that sour mood just moments ago? Oh well, at least he's happy now!

BELPHEGOR

fine. he didn't even want a kiss or an 'i love you' so just go do whatever is more important— wait, no, he was just kidding come back~~~

All your moving around is disturbing his slumber. Frowning, he shifts around so he can watch as you move around the room, getting ready for your day. Why? Can't you just lay in bed with him and peppering him in love and affection? Speaking of...

"Hey," He calls out, and although he didn't necessarily mean to, he glares at you. "Where are you going?" He doesn't let you talk though, instead cutting you off before you had the chance, "'nd were you just gonna leave without wakin' me? Hm?"

"You're awake, aren't you?" You quirk a brow, pulling on your shoes. He snorts, rolling his eyes. Smartass.

"Yeah, but not the way I like waking up." You glance over at him, thinking back on how you usually wake him up (lots of kisses and sweet nothings). You hum, tapping your chin in thought.

"And how is that, hm?" Belphegor grumbles under his breath— you're pretty sure he called you some not so kind words. You wait, almost smugly, for him to tell you just how much he wants your affection. Instead he just scoffs and rolls over.

"Whatever. Leave, you're disturbing me." Sighing, you stand off of the bed and start to walk towards the door. Your steps loud and slow, signaling just how far away you're getting, symbolizing his time to beg for your love running out.

You don't even see him stir from his spot, not until your hand makes contact with the doorknob. "Wow, you're really gonna leave just like that? Tch, what a mean partner you are." He sits up, glaring at you even more intensely. "Seriously, I-!" His words die in his throat as you run to him and tackle him to the bed, peppering his face in kisses.

"Uggghhh, st- stop it!" He cries, weakly pushing your face away whilst actively pushing his face closer to your lips. But soon his attempts to deny your affection dies out and he just melts into you. "You're so clingy," He mumbles, wrapped around you like a koala.

"Mmhm, I'm the clingy one." You mutter sarcastically. "Alright, I really do have to go though- Hey, Belphie! Let go!" You squeal as he rolls over with you, surprisingly strong grip.

"Just a few more minutes- and who said you could stop kissing me?"

﹙ ✿ ﹚thank you for reading. have a wonderful day, darling!

#obey me x reader #om x reader #omswd x reader #obey me imagines #om imagines #omswd imagines #obey me headcanons #om headcanons #omswd headcanons #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #obey me fluff #om fluff #omswd fluff

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msjaeger · 1 year

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Whipped Like A Motherfu- (Older!Damian Wayne x Reader)

Description: The boys never thought it was possible for their youngest brother to have a soft spot for a woman. Or a soft spot in general. So how will they react when they witness their brother being lovey-dovey first-hand?

This was requested by @beatriceshadowmarvel2 so enjoy!!!

The only warning I got for this is that it has explicit language.

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

Damian could be hot-headed. And very irritable. Also not to mention annoying at times. Overall he was a complete dick to almost everyone around him. Keyword: Almost. There was one person he would never and could never show any harsh emotions towards. The love of his life, the one he'd die for, the one he'd kill for. You.

The two of you had met during an attempted robbery. But not in the way one would probably assume. It was Damian who was getting robbed, not you. For obvious reasons, Damian could handle himself in these situations. But also for obvious reasons, Damian is the one who usually initiates the attack. It's been a while since he's been jumped out of nowhere. So he was a bit rusty on his reflexes.

You, on the other, had grown up on the rough side of Gotham so you had gotten a headstart on having your reflexes in tip-top shape. At the time of the incident, you had a fresh can of mace. You were walking past when you noticed the man get struck on the back of the head and were taken aback by surprise. On instinct, you reached into your purse and whipped out the black can. Then the rest was history.

That was approximately two years, six months, five weeks, and twenty-two days ago. It was that long ago since Damian realized that he could never love and long someone as much as he did you. But somehow, after all this time, you're finally meeting the infamous Wayne. His family.

And he was not excited.

"Of course, I'm not going to be excited, sweetheart. You didn't have to live with them for eight years of your life and for another two, having to meet up with them for every fucking holiday to exist." Damian scowled as you flipped his eggs onto a plate. He had just entered the kitchen and sat down at the bar of your shared apartment.

You turned around, one hand on your hip and the other lying his plate in front of him.

"C'mon Dami. They can't be that bad if you didn't run away." You offered, running your hands through your boyfriend's messy hair. He picked up his black coffee and muttered:

"Trust me. I tried."

You sighed and kissed his cheek, his freshly shaved jaw still having shaving cream in random areas of his face. "Did your father ever teach you how to shave?" You chuckled, wiping a smidge of cream off his face. You walked out of the kitchen and stood next to him, silently urging him to eat.

He grumbled something Arabic before grabbing your hips and pulling you down to his level. He started rubbing his cheek against yours, which usually you would be fine with. If shaving cream still wasn't on Damian's face.

"Damian! I was finally ready to go and now my makeup is ruined! I think you got some on my sweater, too!" You whined as he let out a laugh. He pulled away and stared into your eyes, his hands on both sides of your face. His green eyes kept observing each little feature you had on your face. The confused posture on your lips. The twitch of your nose as words came out of your mouth but he could only focus on your face.

"You don't need makeup, my love. You don't need anything to change how you look. You're already the most beautiful thing to bless this Earth." Damian said mindlessly, staring into your eyes.

You chuckled, confused about what made Damian come to those words or thoughts. "I'm not too sure what you mean by that, Dami. But I love you as well.". You stood up to your full height and tried removing the shaving cream from your sweater. "But not as much as I love looking presentable for your family so they don't think I'm a South Side junkie." You announced while walking back to your bedroom.

After your little situation was fixed, the two of you left the penthouse and started your thirty-minute journey to Wayne Manor. The drive gave you time to publicise your concerns.

"Dami, what if they think I'm not good enough for you? Or what if they think I'm using you for money? It doesn't help that I'm from the poorest side of Gotham and possibly the entire fucking country. Should I swear in front of them? I know they're all guys and probably swear worse than me but they-" Your rambling was cut off when your boyfriend kissed you right on the lips.

"Damian! You're driving, from the last time I checked. That's how people crash and die from a cell stroke or something." You reprimanded. Damian only chuckled and removed his hand from the wheel of his favorite Corvette.

"One: This is the car that was partnered with Wayne Enterprises to create the first self-driving sports car. It was in Hands-Off mode, sweetheart. Two: You can't die from a cell stroke because there is no such thing. Three: They'll love you I promise. Because if they don't, I can guarantee they will die a slow and pai-".

"That's enough, love. I'll stick to them not liking me." You compromised, knowing it was the best option as you were aware of Damian's threats becoming a reality.

"That's the thing, Y/n. There shouldn't be a reason for them not to like you. You're beautiful, both book and street smart, and the kindest person to ever walk this Earth." Damian was about to continue his rant about how much you were worth when he noticed he was already parked outside the place he too wasn't sure how to feel about.

A part of him wanted to walk in and reminisce on the memories of his youth. The other part of him wanted to drive his car into the side of the house (without you in it, of course), put it in self-destruct mode, and blow the house into pieces.

"I'm gonna fucking kill myself." Damian groaned as he put the car in park. You glanced at him as his face contorted into one of horror as he stared at the now wide-open door.

Four grown men walked out of the door, a prideful aura radiating off them. Damian's eye twitched as he swung the car door open and flicked them off before they even got the chance to utter a word to him. He made his way to your side of the car and opened the door for you.

He reached his hand out to you and helped you out of the car. You readjusted your skirt and reassess your outfit choice.

'Does this make me look like a hooker?' You wondered to yourself as the group approached your boyfriend and yourself.

"Wow. Little demon managed to find a girl that will put up with his attitude. And he... opened the door for her?" The one who you knew was Dick Grayson and your boyfriend's oldest brother. Only because he was on the best terms with Damian that he actually talked about him. But not in the brotherly way people would consider.

"Fucking Grayson. He's always showing off."

"Dick? Just assume the name comes with the job"

"I will not talk to him. Just because he's my brother and helped me out when I was younger doesn't mean I forgot he threw up all over me when he got shitfaced the last time I saw him."

"Guys, don't tell me the spawn of Satan himself actually learned manners and pulled a good-looking chick. I think I'm gonna cry." The one next to Dick wiped fake tears from his eyes. Damian's scowl deepened.

"Here's an idea, Jason. Go fuck yourself." Damian retorted. The new speaker, Jason, rolled his eyes and chuckled. He was the first to approach you formally and stuck his hand out.

"Hey, I'm Jason, Damian's older, hotter, and smarter brother so if he fucks up, you know where to find me," Jason smirked while you shook his hand.

"I'm Y/n. I would gladly take your offer if I didn't know Damian would never fuck up." You replied back, silently wincing at your use of vulgar language.

But instead of sneering at you or commenting your foul language was 'unladylike', Jason howled in laughter and shrugged.

"Offer still stands. Your accent. You grow up on South Side?" He asked, crossing his arms after you dropped his hand. You nervously glanced at Damian, who nodded in affirmation.

"Yep. Born and raised. How'd you figure it out? I'm usually pretty good at hiding it. That and I don't go around at night, begging for a cigarette and three cents in change."

"I'm from there too. At least before Buck-for-Fuck here adopted me. Grew up on Crack row or whatever it's called by the rich." Jason shifted his gaze to his brother. "You got a good one, Demon. You already know how we turn out." He gestured to himself with up and down hand motions.

"It's a good thing she got out before you, then."

"Fuck you, man."

Jason whimpered in fake pain before being shoved out of the way by Dick and the other brother. Dick introduced himself to you in a very formal way, starting it off by kissing your hands.

Damian did not take it well. He pushed Dick's cheek away from your knuckles. "At least ask her first. Don't you have any self-dignity?" Dick frowned but backed off nonetheless. "My bad, little man. I-", the first thing you've picked up from this family is they don't seem to let each other finish as you watched Dick get shoved by his father, who was clearly embarrassed.

You didn't need an introduction from Bruce motherfucking Wayne. 1. He owns the biggest technology company in the world. 2: It's Bruce Wayne. He's probably the one person on the planet who doesn't need to introduce himself. And he knew that too.

But he introduced himself anyways.

"Hello, Y/n. I'm Damian's father, Bruce. I've heard a lot of things about you." Bruce held his hand out as you shook it respectfully. You glanced at Damian, who scoffed at his father.

"All good things I hope, Mr Wayne." Bruce grimaced when you spoke. "Please call me Bruce, dear. Mr Wayne makes me feel as if I was alive when the Civil War was still being considered." Jason snickered before saying, "You probably were. You'd think with the amount of money you earn, you could afford getting rid of those crow's feet." Damian rolled his eyes at his family's antics before pointing at the last brother that wasn't introduced.

"The emo one who hasn't said a word is Tim. He's a bit odd and stays in his room jacking off or playing with Father's computers." Damian wrapped an arm around you as he explained his brother's habits. Tim's face became stoic as Damian shrugged.

"I hope all your stocks drop completely," Tim grumbled, brushing the hair out of his eyes. Damian's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to send a comeback towards his brother before Bruce chuckled nervously.

"Why don't we all go inside and catch up? Also so we don't embarrass ourselves even more in front of Y/n." The boys seemed to all agree and Damian and yourself followed the rest of the family inside.

After settling down inside the manor's living room, Bruce poured you a cup of tea and sat down in between Jason and Dick, Tim sat on the floor, and Damian and yourself sat on the couch.

"So Y/n. Tell us more about yourself. You didn't seem to have any time to do to certain people in the family. You said you were from South Side, right?" Jason clapped his hands and hollered. Bruce gave him a nasty side-eye while Dick slapped his chest.

"I think the more important question is... how the fuck someone like Damian ended up with a sweet little angel like yourself," Tim spoke while drinking something that obviously wasn't tea. Your boyfriend's frown deepened.

"I wouldn't call her a little angel, Timmy. We met because she maced a guy trying to rob me." Jason jumped out of his seat and started a handshake that was created for South Siders to identify each other with. Surprisingly, you still remember the whole thing.

"That's what I'm fucking talking about! You make everyone who still lives in Shitville proud!" Damian pushed Jason back into his seat before pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Please refrain from tainting her with your filthy hands." Damian had little spurts where he would switch from casually talking to someone to as if he was talking to the president. Of course, Jason had a knack for making fun of it.

"My dearest apologies, my lord. May I offer my condolences for my idiotic acts?" Jason bowed from his seat.

"Okay, we can try this again. Please don't fucking touch her with your nasty ass hands that we all know you 'forget' to wash. The next time any one of you touches her without her permission, I'll be sure the Lazarus pit can't bring you back to life." Damian snapped. It suddenly became quiet despite the conversation being between two people.

Although it was only two sentences, it was enough to leave the family of undercover heroes speechless. Not about the fact that the youngest member snapped at them. No, they've gotten used to that.

It's the fact he snapped at them over a girl, let alone anyone else in general.

Jason's jaw was slacked and his eyes were wide in surprise. Tim had lost all his secret stash of alcohol as he not only spit out the liquor in his mouth but his water bottle dropped onto the shiny floors. Dick's face was stoic as he processed the fact that his baby brother could actually care about someone as much as he cared about himself. Maybe more.

Bruce's expression was possibly the hardest not to laugh at. His eyes were wide, an eyebrow was arched, and overall just looked weirded out.

Damian groaned in irritation and his fingers twitched in annoyance. He tapped your thigh a few times and stood up with your hand in his. "We're gonna head to my room and sleep off the bullshit from today. Don't bother us." Damian dragged you along like a lost puppy up one of the many staircases throughout the mansion and disappeared behind the thick walls of the hall. Not before hearing:

"Use protection, please! We don't need any more demon spawns running around when we have Damian and Jason!" "Fuck you, Bruce!"

Bonus:

You laid on Damian's bare chest, his pecs acting like a pillow for your head. Your legs intertwined with his and your hands were in the pockets of his black sweatpants.

You were fast asleep, the warmth from his upper body acting as a sedative for comfort. But Damian wasn't asleep. He couldn't fall asleep. Not while admiring the beautiful soul on his chest.

He ran his calloused fingers through your hair, dismissing the tangles in your hair by prying his fingers apart at the ends of each strand. He knew you'd be pissed about the sudden frizziness when you woke up but he didn't care. Not when he'd at least hear your voice.

"Words cannot describe how much I love you, Y/n. You saved me more than the day we met with your can of mace. You changed me and I will always be grateful for your love and affection towards someone like me." He whispered into your ear. He kept whispering poetic words into your sleeping ears. He suddenly stopped when he heard a creak from the corner of the room.

His vision sharpened to see into the darkness of his old room and immediately reached over to his nightstand and switched his lamp on. It illuminated the room just enough to see his family in the corner of his room, recording the scene in front of them.

Damian wrapped his arms around your waist and gave the nastiest glare possible towards the boys. Tim was about to say something, maybe lighten up the approaching argument but Damian brought a finger up to his pursed lips.

"If you wake her up, I will play tic-tac-toe on your throats with my katana." He blankly threatened.

Dick realized there wasn't any bluffing behind his brother's threat, as he had doubted threats from Damian before and that's how he ended up with thumbtacks in his ass and tried to escape the impending doom.

Jason, on the other hand, wanted to see the world burn and tripped his older brother, causing him to trip and eat shit. A thud echoed throughout the room, causing you to stir in your sleep.

"Dami? What was that?" A dagger was whipped out of the nightstand and held by Damian in a way with the intent to throw it at an unsuspecting victim. "Nothing, sweetheart. Just go back to sleep, okay beautiful?" You drifted back to sleep as if under a spell, your hands now on his defined chest.

There was a brief moment of silence that gave Damian time to admire the love of his life. That was until Jason decided to open his mouth.

"Dude, you're whipped like a motherfu-"

A knife flew across the room and landed right next to Jason's head.

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

This is the first thing I've written in almost a year so lmk if it's ass or gas. BUT KEEP SENDING IN REQUESTS I LOVE HEARING OTHER PEOPLE'S IDEAS!!!

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #dick grayson #dc x reader #older!damian wayne x reader #damian fluff #protective damian wayne #im gonna bomb myself

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stevesbipanic · 1 year

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Steve's only 25 when it all catches up to him.

It starts off small, things people wouldn't even be able to tell is an early sign of something wrong. Misplacing keys, forgetting which day he has his shifts, what time he's supposed to get Robin. Robin notices though.

Robin knows Steve always keeps his keys on the hook next to Eddie's by the front door, that's where he always finds them, he's not misplacing the keys, he's forgetting the hook exists.

Robin knows Steve has the same shifts every week, they never change because they line up with Eddie's at the record store nearby. Robin knows Steve isn't forgetting what time he's supposed to pick Robin up, he's forgetting Robin moved away a few months ago after she graduated college.

Robin keeps noticing when the kids start calling her because the little things are becoming big things.

Robin notices when Dustin calls and tells her Steve thought he and Suzie were back together, "Like how crazy is that we broke up two years ago, I don't think I've even mentioned her lately."

Robin notices when Lucas calls and tells her Steve asked when his next game was, "The season ended months ago, he came to the finals."

Robin notices when Max calls and whispers softly, "He asked to take me to the skatepark, Robin, I told him I had to help mum. He's forgotten I'm blind Robin."

Robin wished she'd noticed sooner, maybe years ago when Steve was getting knocked around a lot. She wished she'd screamed in the face of those Russians to take her instead. She wished a lot of things when Eddie called her.

"He's in hospital, Birdie, he collapsed at work."

Robin is back in Chicago for the first time since she graduated. She wished she'd visited sooner.

"Do you think the feds are gonna let me go soon, Robbie? I mean it usually doesn't take this long for them to bring me the NDAs."

Robin hopes Steve doesn't notice her eyes going glossy as she runs her fingers through his hair, "Don't worry Stevie, I'm sure they'll be in soon, Dusty is probs just arguing over something in his."

"At least he isn't having to explain he raised a demodog. Did I ever tell you about that Robbie?"

Robin smiles softly, "Yeah but tell me again, don't want to forget any of it."

Eddie gives Robin the gist of what the doctors said, Eddie didn't understand much, a lot of technical words and shit. Too many concussions, more than they knew about most likely. They say it'll probably get worse with no timeframe of how quickly it'll happen, there might be good days, there will be a lot of bad days.

The first bad day comes a week later. Steve barely remembers Eddie, trapped in a time when Eddie was just the kids DM. Eddie sobs in the corridor in Robin's arms. The next day it's like nothing happened and Steve gets discharged. They tell Steve, this time Eddie is the one to comfort him.

"I don't want to forget you Eds."

"It's okay if you do, sweetheart, I'll still be here."

It's Robins idea to start writing everything down. Eddie, Nancy and the kids all help. Filling journals upon journals of stories and pictures of Steve's life to help on the bad days. Steve has to quit his job, Robin moves back to Chicago, they make it work.

On bad days depending on how far back Steve is Dustin or Robin or Eddie will read through the books with him, filling in the gaps of what he needs. On the worst days, Eddie leaves the pile of journals on the bed with a note and waits downstairs to see if Steve will join him later.

They make it work for a few years. Steve celebrates his 30th birthday with perfect clarity. He writes himself an entry in the journal next to a big group picture with Steve and Eddie's matching rings showing.

That July, over a decade since Starcourt, Steve is in hospital again. He'd collapsed at breakfast. Eddie had thought it was going to be one of their good days, Steve had woken up fine, all his memories in tact if a little fuzzy. He'd made them coffee and giggled at Eddie's singing while he made them eggs and just like that it all came crashing down.

Steve's brain is shutting down. They don't know if he'll make it past Christmas. There's more bad days after that. More days with books left on the bed. Most days Steve doesn't even come downstairs. On the good days, Eddie always calls off work. He'd rather be fired than miss a single second of Steve smiling at him like he does, so full of love.

They have Christmas, the whole family comes, they have to bring every chair from around the house and squish in around the table just to fit but it's perfect. Steve sits between Robin and Eddie, face bright and full of love and life. Everyone gives him the tightest hug as the night closes, all lingering, afraid of letting go.

"I love you, dingus."

"I love you too, Robbie."

Later, upstairs in their room, Steve and Eddie go through all the journals, laughing softly at each little note the kids have left. Steve writes his little journal entry, a tradition of good days, and curls into Eddie's arm whispering soft loving words to each other before falling asleep.

Steve never wakes up.

The funeral happens shortly after, all of the family is still in town. Robin holds Eddie afterwards as they go through the journals together. When they get to the last page, they struggle not to smudge the ink with their tears.

Dear Eds and Robbie,

I don't know how many more good days I'm going to get so I'm leaving this here for you now. I love you both so much, you're equally my soulmates and I want you two to look after each other while I'm gone.

Robs, go travelling with Nancy, ok? Thank you for looking after me all these years but it's time for you to go look after yourself. Go see the world for me, tell me all about it wherever I am when you get back.

Eddie, I'm sorry we didn't get as much time as we hoped, I hope you know that even just a day with you has been worth a lifetime with anyone else. Go follow your dreams, write music, perform, show the world how amazing I know you are. I give you full permission to fall in love with whoever you meet along the way, I don't want either of you guys to be alone.

Thank you for giving me a life worth remembering.

Your Dingus,

Stevie

#omfg i sobbed writing this im sorry #stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things s4 #eddie munson #st4 #steddie #stobin #robin buckely #angst #poor steve #concussions #memory loss #fuck i actually cried so much omfg #ficlet #major character death #tw major character death #tw death

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i-cant-sing · 10 months

Text

Yandere Dabi accidentally made reader blind

*sighs* it's time for another fic idea:

Imagine Dabi terrorising the city and doing evil shenanigans, the usual stuff, and while he's welding his fire quirk, you- an innocent civilian gets hurt in the process. Now look, a lot of other civilians got hurt too, but what made you stand out was the fact that you locked eyes with him, saw his face right before your retinas were burned by the blast of fire aimed at a hero past you.

You were taken to the hospital, where you got the news that you'd be blind for the rest of your life now and Dabi had begun stalking you from the moment you woke up from surgery, only because he thought you'd spill his identity to the police or whatever. But you didn't, probably because you forgot his face, but "probably" isn't good enough for him. He needs to be sure you won't rat him out to the authorities, so he continues to stalk you and eventually develops yandere tendencies for you.

Of course, as he falls in love, he also begins to feel guilty as he sees you struggling with your daily chores because of your new disability. I mean, you worked at a school, volunteered at orphanages and nursing homes, fed strays, the perfect daughter, friend, employee.

You are the nicest human ever and Dabi made you blind😭

He sees that you can't continue working at the school, and he sees its harder to volunteer when you haven't learned how to deal with life without the ability to see. And his chest hurts when he sees you break down at nights, in your apartment alone because you don't know how you'll be able to take care of your aging parents as their only child, when you can't even walk in traffic without help.

That's when Dabi decides to step in. Sure, you may have seen his face, but you haven't heard his voice, right?

He makes the first meeting seem like a chance encounter, bumping into you and catching you before you fell. Faking concern when you apologise for being blind, he takes you to a nearby cafe and offers to buy you a coffee for the one he made you spill.

And eventually, he asks you out and now you're two dating. You think he's the sweetest guy, always helping you but never patronising. And sure, deep down Dabi's heart jumps whenever he catches you in a danger, but he knows he shouldn't be coddling you. How else will you navigate?

Then again, the deeper Dabi falls in love with you and the more yandere he becomes, the more he wants you to become dependent on him for everything. But he has to be smart; he doesn't want to drive you away just because he wants to wrap you up in bubble wrap.

He helps you use you walking stick, gets you Braille, and with your permission, he babyproofs the house a bit (mainly because he saw the bruises on your leg from the sharp corners you bumped into).

And since you two are not living together just yet, he worries what would happen to you if he's not there. So he stays a while longer, hiding in the background just until you fall asleep, making sure you have your mobile (with his number on speed dial) near you.

But Dabi can't always be there to watch you. He's still pursuing his successful career as a villain, so without your knowledge, he installs cameras in your house, purely out of concern and not because he's a creep. Yes, even the ones in your bathroom are just in case you slipped and hit your head.

After some time, you two do end up moving in together. He of course modifies his house so that its more safe for you, like rounding off sharp edges, installing devices that let you know when youre near stairs, etc. And Dabi just absolutely adores spending time with you. Be it cooking, he's right there with you as you tell him all the steps to your favourite recipes and taste test food (he blows on your hot food), dance slowly in the kitchen while the pizza bakes in the oven, straddle you and tickle you until youre near tears, or cuddling on the couch as you enjoy each others silence. You're so nice, so kind to him. He won't ever say it outloud but you being blind is a huge positive for him because he doesn't get insecure with the way he looks. Plus, he can smile as much as he wants without feeling like its tarnishing his "villain image" (he has absolutely melted when you said you adored the way he laughed. Stfu bitch, hes never laughing again😭💖🫶) And you're great at matching his vibe too. He can see the way he's rubbed off on you, how you joke about your disability, the two of you surprising people with your dark sense of humor.

He can be intimate with you, because you feel perfect against his charred skin. When you touched his staples and his burned skin, his breath hitching when you pulled your hand away, your brows frowning. Did you find him ugly now that you knew he didnt have smooth, pristine skin?

When you didn't say anything for a few seconds, he asked if you'd like to know what happened to him.

You shrugged. "Only if you want to tell me. I just want to know if it hurts when I touch your skin." Hes so glad you can't see because my man had tears falling down his face. Why are you so concerned for his well being??? Why are you so sweet? Why Why Why Why-

Not to mention the way your parents absolutely ADORE him???? Like, the first time he met them, they immediately welcomed him into their homes and into their hearts. Dabi is like so overwhelmed because he's never felt so accepted and loved. Your parents never once looked at him differently because of his scars, and Dabi knows he looks like a criminal for sure, but your parents???? They don't care. Hell, they've already begun telling him all your embarrassing childhood stories and are inviting him to family gatherings and have already decided what clothes he's gonna wear for the family Christmas picture. And Dabi has realised that both you and your parents are way too naive and trusting and so so so so precious, he's adopting all of yall😭😭😭 (like fr, your parents just saved themselves from being killed and/or thrown into a nursing home).

Anyways, years pass by, Dabi had left the crime life the day you got hurt in his house and he wasnt around to help you. Now he works from his home office and you work at the school for visually impaired. Your relationship has reached it peak and Dabi pops the marriage question and you say yes. But before you guys can get married, someone (maybe an ex, or a cousin or friend) reveals to you who he really is and how he's the reason you're blind, and Dabi is eavesdropping because he needs the prefect opportunity to both kill the guy who spilled his secret and catch you before you run off.

"I know."

"You know?"

"I know. Always have. And I'd appreciate it if you don't bring it up ever again. Also, you're not invited to the wedding." You said before having the guy leave the room.

"You can come out now, Dabi." You called him inside.

"How did you know I was here?" He asked standing in front of you.

"I'm smart like that." You chuckled.

"Y/n- you knew?" He asked quietly, wanting to confirm what he'd just heard. You nodded. "How? Why didn't you say anything?"

You sighed. "You're not the only one keeping secrets, Dabi." You sat down, patting the seat next to you for him. "I have a quirk like you do. I have a heightened sense of smell. So, I pretty much recognised you from the moment you bumped into me."

"Huh? How could you recognise me? We never met before that." You shook your head. "We didn't meet before, but I noticed you the day of my accident." Dabi's mind couldn't stop at how you chose to refer his attack as an "accident", which is exactly what it was. You were never his target. Honestly, you're the best human being, an actual angel-

"I only noticed you because you smelled like charred barbecue."

"WHAT?!"

"Hey, no yelling!" You scolded. "That day, I was walking home when I was suddenly hit with this intense smell of grilled barbecue and I was superrrr hungry that day, so I was like I gotta get me some of that and then I looked up and I saw you."

Dabi listened to your explanation, and he honestly wouldn't have believed you if he hadn't spent so much time with you to know how your brain works. "If you knew who I was, then you knew you lost your eyes because of me. So, why did you..." He couldn't complete his question, afraid of you admitting to leading him on just so that you could take revenge and hurt him by pretending to be in love.

You cupped cheek. "It wasn't your fault. You weren't aiming for me. Besides, you and I both know that I would've been dead that same day if you wanted me to."

"Still... I am a bad person-"

"No, Dabi. You're not." You cut him off, not wanting him to taint himsslf with such foul thoughts. "No one is born good or bad. People just do good things or bad things, as circumstances force them to. The world isn't so black and white, Dabi. Everyone's got a grey area."

A tear fell down his cheek, and Dabi pulled you in for a deep kiss. "God- You're just- perfect." He whispered against your lips. You smiled and pecked him once more before settling on the couch, your head on chest.

"So... I smell like charred barbecue?" Dabi asked, playing with your hair. You hummed. "And it doesn't bother you?"

"Nope!"

"Why not?"

"I love charred barbecue. They're the best pieces!"

Ah, if you keep saying things like that, Dabi will need to buy you bigger diamonds.

Fuck it, he thought pulling out his phone.

He's already ordering one online.

Now imagine someone hurts Dabi's baby, and she dies. That'd suck, huh?

#yandere dabi #yandere dabi x reader #yandere bnha #bnha headcanons #yandere mha #bnha imagines #dabi imagine #dabi todoroki #dabi bnha #dabi x reader #bnha dabi #dabi

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mickeyswhore · 6 months

Text

I'm Gonna Kill You

A/N: My first time posting a fic in this brand new side blog, if you enjoy it, please consider reblogging it and if you want more you can follow me.

Summary: Randy is your best friend in the entire world, Billy doesn't enjoy the power he has over you and decides to do something about it.

Billy Loomis x Reader

Warnings: toxicity all around, a splash of daddy kink, filming without consent, a little bit of degradation, death (I mean it's Scream) but nothing gory, let me know if I missed anything else.

Want me to make a Tag List? Here!

GIF by @coppoladelrey.

You and Randy were born on the same day, your mothers went to High School together so the two of you were bound to become best friends. Your friendship with Randy is great, the two of you spend most of the time together and you barely ever fought. There is one massive problem in your life and you weren’t even aware of, Randy loves you, he loved you since you stood up for him in kindergarten but you were obvious to his love, Randy was happy to be just your friend but that doesn’t mean he would allow you to have a love life.

You trust Randy with your life, if he says that someone is not good for you, you listen no questions asked. Randy takes full advantage of the power he has on your life, a sick power

play that you weren’t even aware of. If pressed on the issue, Randy would swear up and down that it is for your own good, but he knows the truth, he’s too scared to admit his true feelings but more than happy to cock block you without you being aware.

Being a virgin was one of your main concerns in your otherwise uneventful life, you had Randy as your best friend and a few acquiescences mainly Sidney, Tatum, Stu and Billy. You loved hanging out with them even if you weren’t as close, Stu made you laugh to the point of almost peeing your pants, Sidney and Tatum were extremely and the three of you went shopping at least once a fortnight. The only person you didn't spend time with was Billy, not because you didn't like him, quite the contrary he simply intimidated you too much to allow you to exchange pleasantries with him, his piercing chocolate brown eyes made you all warm and tingly inside.

You never said anything to Sid and Tatum because Sid and Billy used to be a couple in Elementary School and Tatum was her best friend, Stu was too much of a jokester to take anything seriously and he would run to Billy and the two of them would probably laugh, not because they were cruel but simply because Stu would never take this seriously. Then there was Randy, the only person that knew everything about your life except this major crush on Billy Loomis but life goes on.

Casey Becker and her boyfriend were murdered and the whole town was on edge, and Randy was going on and on about horror films and you thought it was in poor taste, this isn’t a film! People are dead! So you gave him the bullshit excuse of getting your period and you basically qucicked him out of your house.

You decided to go to a coffee shop and just be alone for a change, you said hi to the barista gave her your order and after getting your drink you were sitting down by the window. You weren’t thinking about anything in particular but Billy Loomis came to the forefront of your mind, as he usually does. His eyes, his lips, his hair. As if it was on queue, Stu Macher spots you from across the road and ran towards the coffee shop.

“Stu, how are you?” You smiled seeing him, maybe that meant Billy was nearby? Stu didn't miss your eyes wondering, looking for Billy.

“I’m good, you know? Hey, would you like to hang out? Tatum is busy right now and you’re super cool, so…” Before you could he was getting your bag and helping you get up, you simply laughed and followed him, you truly enjoyed his company.

You’ve to Stu’s house a couple of times but only with Randy, maybe this was a good opportunity to actually be friends with Stu. He opened the door for you and allowed you to get in, he was helping you remove your jumper when you heard Billy’s voice.

“Where the fuck were you? Did you bring the…” Billy stopped in his tracks when he finally saw you, and Stu couldn’t stop grinning. Billy wanted to get alone with you for ages but Randy was always there, Stu really did him a solid.

“Oh man, I totally forgot I ran into her and totally slipped my mind. I’ll be right back, you don’t mind being here with Billy, right?” You looked at Billy who was already looking at you and you looked down and shook your head. “Okay, bye.” And just like that Stu was out of the house.

You still kept your gaze down, playing with your shirt. It was so hard to keep eye contact with Billy Loomis.

“Hey, we can watch something on the TV.” You simply followed Billy but still keeping your gaze down, Billy thought you were the hottest girl at school and now he has you all to himself, he really needed to thank Stu later. The two of you sat down and Billy decided to break the silence. “You don’t like me very much, do you doll?” You finally looked at him with a frown on your face and Billy was smirking. “There she is.” He whispered with a hint of a smile on his face, his thumb went to your chin and goosebumps rose all over your body, Billy wasn’t blind to the effect he had on you.

Billy wanted you since the two of you were freshmen, but Randy was always hanging around you like a leach, in Billy’s eyes. He wanted to kill Randy as his and Stu’s first victim but Billy wanted Randy to suffer after hearing the two of you talking. Randy let it slip rather loudly that you and him were still virgins and Billy thought Christmas came early. He wanted you for the longest time and finding out he was going to be the first man in your life, to touch you, to make you cum? His cock got incredibly hard just thinking about you moaning underneath him, riding him and eating you out like you were his last meal.

“I like you, Billy…it’s just that…” You took a deep breath, how could you explain your predicament?

“You don’t want to hurt Randy’s feelings?” Billy almost believed his own tone, it felt so sincere and honest, he almost wanted to laugh at the relief on your face.

“Yes, we’re not dating or anything.” You wanted especify, and Billy smiled. “But he’s my best friend, literally since day one. And I have no idea why he doesn’t like you very much.” You started playing with your nails and Billy raised your chin to look in your eyes, his piercing gaze was giving you burtterfiles in your stomach.

“We can take this slow, yeah? I want to do this right and take you out for dates and you be my girl, yeah?” Billy looked at you expectantly, and you nodded biting your lip. After that, he kissed you. He couldn’t believe that he finally got the girl of his dreams.

----------------------

It has been months since you and Billy started dating, and you couldn’t be happier even with the killings getting progressively worse. You had Billy to protect you, so things weren’t as scary. The only problem was Randy, he comes to your house unannounced and Billy has to hide and it’s always when the two of are about to fuck, it seemed that Randy had this radar to find out when you were about to lose your virginity and it was driving you and Billy insane. You were more than ready for this and Billy had major blue balls for months.

The two of you were now at school, talking in the hallway. Billy wanted nothing more than to take you to the nearest bathroom and fuck you in the stall but he knew that you deserved much better than a quick and cheap fuck, you were his dream girl.

“I asked my parents for the lake house this weekend and they allowed. I can pick you up right after school, is that okay?” You nodded and smiled, you couldn’t believe how romantic and thoughtful your boyfriend was. The two of you were very good in not having PDA at school but you were so excited that you kissed him and Billy was more than happy to oblige.

His hands went to your waist and yours went straight to his hair, Billy’s hnads were about to land on your ass when the two of you heard his voice.

“Unbelievable.” Randy yelled and you stopped kissing Billy, you had a guilty look on your face but Billy was angry. “You’re with him? Mr. I am clearly a serial killer.” Billy was about to beat Randy up when you stopped him.

“Look, Randy. I am so sorry for not telling you before but saying this shit about Billy is not cool. If you can’t accept him, don’t talk to me again.” You grabbed Billy’s hand and walked away while Billy had the biggest grin on his face. Once the two of you were outside, he hugged you.

“Are you alright? I know how important Randy is to you, I don’t want to get in the middle of your friendship.” Billy was selling this so well, and you just smiled and shook your head.

“You’re the best boyfriend ever! And no, don’t ever say that, Randy will come around eventually. I don’t want this to stop our little getaway.” You were going to handle Randy later after you spent time with your boyfriend.

------------

Billy’s car stopped right in front of the house, it was so pretty and quiet you loved it. Billy took both of your suitcases and guided you to the front of the house. The door was opened and everything inside was very rustic, it was perfect and apparently Billy’s parents had people come and clean in preparation of your stay there, they were always so thoughtful. Billy put your suitcases on the floor and looked at you.

“So, do you want a tour of the house?” He smiled at you.

“Start with the bedroom.” You jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist and Billy did exactly that.

He opened the door and dropped you on the bed, even though you were a virgin Billy could tell that you liked it rough. Every bite that was a little too rough, you had to stop yourself from moaning and rubbing your thighs together, every whispered ‘good girl’ on your ear made you sigh and bite your lip and one small ‘my little slut’ made you moan.

“I’m gonna fuck you right now, baby. Is that what you want? I wanna hear you beg.” Billy started kissing your neck and biting it and nodded your head fervently. You wondered if people could die of horniness for a second. “Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want from me?” Billy was taking off his shirt and still kissing you.

“I want you to fuck me, daddy.” You put your hand over your mouth, he wasn’t supposed to know but Billy had the biggest grin on his face.

“Yeah? You want daddy to destroy your little pussy even though is your first time? Is that what you want?” Billy finally started removing your clothes, leaving you in just your bra and panties.

“Please, daddy. Fuck me, I need it please.” You didn't care about sounding needy, Billy was your boyfriend and you loved him and he loved you.

Billy’s cock was so hard and you could see how big it was even through his underwear, your mouth was watering at the sight.

“Does my needy little slut wants me to fuck her throat?” Billy removed his underwear and you could see his cock leaking with pre cum, it has been so long since he fucked anyone.

“Yes, please daddy.” You got on your knees and looked at him with the biggest innocent eyes he has ever seen, fuck Billy could cum right now just by looking at you.

“Open your mouth, baby.” You did exactly that, you licked the head of his cock tasting his pre cum and you slowly started to take him in your mouth. Billy was very patient and you took his cock so well, Billy out his head back and groaned loudly. He also made sure that the camera was at the right angle.

Billy’s hands went to your hair, you were hollowing your cheeks and also playing with his balls. He held your head in place and started to fuck your throat, the noises you were making were pornographic and Billy loved every second of it.

“Oh, fuck I’m gonna cum.” Billy removed his hands from your head but you kept sucking his cock. “Fuck, baby.” Billy came, thick ropes of cum down your throat and you swallowed it all. You were still on your knees and you opened your mouth you to show Billy that you swallowed it all. “Fuck, how did I get so lucky?” He helped you get up and kissed you passionately, he finally removed your bra and took one nipple in his mouth, now it was your turn to get your hands on his hair, Billy carefully laid you on the bed and removed your panties.

Billy opened your legs started sucking on your clit, he was relentless and again your handd went to his hair. You were moaning and panting, the feeling of his hot, wet tongue on your pussy is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Billy was enjoying very much seeing you fall apart with only his tongue.

Your moans started getting louder, and the grip on his hair got stronger. Billy’s tongue was working faster to bring your orgasm quicker, he also inserted a finger to slowly start stretching you out. He was was observing all of your reactions, how your legs were shaking and how your moans were louder by him finger fucking you.

“Billy, I think I’m gonna…” You knew your body very well, but this was different.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me, cum all over my face.” Billy sped up his ministrations on your clit and you pulled his hair and you came hard, your eyes were shut and pleasure that you never felt before ran all over your body. When you finally came to it, you felt under the bed wet, quite wet. When you looked over, you started panicking.

“Oh my God, Billy I’m so sorry. I have no idea why this happened?” Billy shushed you and kissed your forehead.

“No, baby. You just squirted and it was hot as fuck.” He kissed you and he laid on the bed again.

Billy pinched your nipples and you moaned into his mouth, his hands were all over your body and vice versa. Billy was about to burst, he was painfully hard again and he couldn’t wait to fuck you.

“Are you ready, baby?” Billy put his hand on your cheek and his eyes were looking into yours and you’ve never felt more connected with him before.

“More than ever, Billy.”

“Okay, I’ll go slow. Let me know if it hurts, alright?” You nodded and Billy positioned his cock at your entrance, he was looking at it then at you.

You felt his thick and veiny cock on your pussy, Billy had to contain himself and not cum at that second. Your velvety walls milking him, Billy was groaning and moaning in your ear, inch by inch his cock was entering you. Billy was fully inside you now and stopped to compose himself, your pussy felt like heaven to him. You on the other hand was almost passing out from the overwhelming pleasure his cock was giving you and you wanted, no, needed more.

“Please move, Billy.” He obliged and started moving slowly, the last thing he wanted was to hirt you. He found a comfortable pace for him and you. “Harder, please.” You wrapped your legs around his waist and with that all of his self control was gone.

Billy started punding into your pussy with reckless abandon, your nails digging on his back the noises coming from felt like you were in a porno.

“Do you like that, baby? Is that what you wanted my dirty little slut, huh?” His filthy words were driving you insane. You started clenching around him and Billy started laughing condescendly. “You like that, huh? You like being my little slut?” You only nodded, the pleasure wouldn’t allow you to speak, the noises were louder and louder. “Are you cock drunk already, baby? You can’t even speak right, can you? I want you to cum on my cock, baby.” Billy’s thumb went to your clit and started making hard and small circles, he wanted to see you falling apart.

“Billy, I’m gonna…” You didn't finish your sentence, and you came on his cock and Billy helped you ride out your orgasm. Billy started chasing his own orgasm, you were sensitive but the line between pleasure and pain were blurred and that resulted in more pleasure for you.

“You’re gonna take my cum, aren’t you baby? You’re gonna let me cum deep inside your pussy, imagine if I got you pregnant?” You clenched around him and Billy laughed. “You want everyone to know that you’re my little slut? Walking around with a big belly and huge tits full of milk?” Billy stopped and came with a groan, he was breathless. He kissed you and removed his cock out of you. He laid down and pulled you over to him, he started kissing the top of your head and caressing your arm.

“Did you enjoy that?” You asked and Billy could sense the vulnerability in your voice.

“That was the best thing that ever happened to me, you were perfect baby. I love you.” He kissed your forehead and you mumbled ‘I love you too’ and you fell asleep rather quickly. After making sure you weren’t going to wake up, Billy got up and stopped recording, he couldn’t wait to put his plan into action.

------------------

Randy was pissed, your mom told him that you went on a trip with Billy. I mean what were your parents thinking? Allowing you to be alone with that serial killer? But you were about to come back and Randy was going to do everything in his power to break the two of you up. You never dated anyone before, you couldn’t! You belonged to Randy and he was going to make sure of that, no matter what.

Randy got in his bedroom, he found a tape that was odd he didn't recognise it. He put it in the VHS anyway, and he recognised you immediately, on your knees for Billy Loomis, Randy was about to take the tape and show it to you how Billy is gross and you should break up with him, but he got a call.

“Hello, Randy.” The modulated voice said.

“Billy, you sick fuck. I’m gonna fucking destroy you, she’ll never look at you again.” Randy was screaming, he couldn’t wait to destroy your relationship, that way you would fall for Randy and realise no one but him is good enough for you.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that Randy.” The voice was tauting him and Randy was furious.

“And why is that?” Ghostface opened his closet and was right behind Randy.

“Dead men tell no tales.” Randy turned around but only in time to be stabbed in the neck, after that Ghostface grabbed the tape and left Randy’s house.

Billy was with you when you heard that Randy was killed by Ghostface, he comforted you and said that everything was going to be okay.

“I was angry at him the last time we saw each other, I’ll never forgive myself.” Billy shused you and said that it wasn’t your fault and you couldn’t have known.

Billy held your hand through the funeral and made sure you didn't fall apart, you were so lucky to have in your life. Billy was overjoyed, he had his girlfriend all to himself and he didn't have to hide or worry about the nerd that hanging over her, everything was right in the world.

#billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x you #billy loomis x female reader #billy loomis x y/n #billy loomis smut #billy loomis imagine #scream 1996 #billy loomis

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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months

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HEYYYYYY i LOVE how you write vox! could i request vox x a reader who gets really flustered, like for example their after their first kiss theyre jumping and yelling “YESS” (if you havent done this before!) ignore this if you dont wanna write this, have a good day!! <3

Flustered Fanatics

Vox x Easily Flustered!Reader

A/N: This is so cute ajdoskdjalsb it reminds me of that one post I saw about Vox accidentally letting a soundboard audio play because he got caught off guard or was extremely flustered- I'll be patterning this similarly to that hahaha- sorry if it's got heavy shitpost energy.

A/N: Also, I just wanted to write a simpy/soft Vox for once- he and reader can both be flustered sweethearts ahdksjdkskshdks- Hope you enjoy this anon! Happy Reading!

It was just another busy day in the office for Vox.

Broadcasts, meetings, advertisements and promotions-

Just a regular cycle in a day of his life.

Though one look at his internal clock had him cringing.

It was just noon and he already felt done with the day.

His large signature grin easily slipped off his face at the realization.

Not that he cared enough to maintain it as he set foot into his monitor room.

Letting out a sigh, Vox sat down in his chair while glancing around the multitude of flashing screens.

Some of them were for surveillance, others were just broadcasting statistics.

He felt a genuinely fond smile work it's way onto his face seeing the remaining idle screens.

It was a picture of you and him during your valentines outing.

He didn't even have time to properly pose for the camera before you snapped the image.

Vox chuckled at the memory, his bewildered expression frozen in time with your lovely eager smile.

How it became his monitor idling background was probably your doing, but he had no complaints.

Seeing you at any point in the day made it immensely better, no matter how monotonous or stressful it was.

While he could probably always just pull up a camera or something to look for you, it was a sensitive topic you both bickered on from time to time.

You liked having some privacy, and pretty much hammered it into your lover's head that he really really shouldn't spy on you.

Even if it was for noble reasons-

Which you doubted-

You forced Vox to relent and only check up on you using his monitors after a quick text or memo.

He really only gave in because he couldn't say no to your puppy eyes.

You did placate him by wearing a watch he could track at all times.

Your vitals, your location, just the basic things to make sure you were safe and nothing more.

It actually reminded you of a pet collar but you brushed it off since was just a precaution.

Aside from that little issue, Vox couldn't help but miss you as he sat alone in his monitor room.

The overlord found you unabashedly cute, from all your mannerisms to your personality.

It was downright adorable in his eyes and he often found himself wanting to protect you.

With just the way your entire face lit up when he came into the room-

How your smile could immediately improve his mood-

Even the fact your hugs could recharge him better than any amount of coffee or energy drinks ever could.

Vox was absolutely enamored by you, and it often showed with his sweet gestures as well.

It also didn't really help that you were also just so easy to tease.

The overlord often found himself doing nearly anything just to get a reaction from you.

Sometimes a brief kiss to your knuckles-

Other times a surprise gift or cuddles-

Just anything from his end could leave you looking like a tomato.

Not that he minded of course, it just added more to the list of things he loved about you.

Your relationship together was just so... different compared to what Vox was used to.

No yelling, no fighting, and he definitely didn't need to be tense all the time.

Then again, the way you treated him was always so nice compared to everyone else.

He still couldn't believe you had fallen for someone with the likes of him.

Hell, he still couldn't really believe you were down here with him.

Actually no he could, he'd seen you kill before to protect Velvette and it was really freaking sexy.

You were so flustered to have been caught all bloody and disheveled though.

Vox once again just laughed at the memory, he was stuck buffering from the image you locked into his head for days.

To be fair, that happened only a week after you both started officially dating-

And it was pretty much going at a snail's pace the more Vox looked at it.

Not that he minded, whatever kept you happy.

Though... had he even been able to properly kiss you at all?

No, kisses on the cheek or forehead don't count.

Neither do the ones on your knuckles...

Vox immediately went through his memory banks trying to fish out any possible time he'd actually kissed you on the lips.

As the number of files dwindled and he kept drawing blanks, the overlord grew worried.

How could he have overlooked something so important?!

Before he could do anything about it though, he was immediately called to deal with another one of Valentino's tantrums.

Ugh... he'd definitely have to make it up to you somehow.

Fortunately though, he didn't need to go far, finding you waiting by the elevator doors like you were just about to go up.

Masking his pleasant surprise, he made his way over to you.

"(Y/N)? I thought you were going be busy today, what are you doing here?"

"Well, I wasn't exactly... busy? I really just wanted to make you something so I spent all morning making lunch for you!"

Vox genuinely wanted to melt on the spot.

You proudly showed him a neatly packed blue lunchbox decorated with the VoxTech logo and some heart stickers.

The happy smile on your face was so contagious even the TV overlord nearly returned it on reflex.

He couldn't be so publicly soft though, so he just kept up his signature telecaster grin despite the fact he was not to secretly overheating.

"You didn't have to dollface, really."

"Well I wanted to, I can and will dote on you as much as you dote on me!"

Vox couldn't help himself at that point but grab you by the waist and pull you into a kiss.

Yes, a proper on-the-lips kiss.

Your eyes widened and your face burned from the embarrassment but you eagerly returned your beloved's affection.

After the initial shock subsided of course-

Vox then took the lunchbox from your hands with a pleased smile before walking off.

Despite the fact he wanted your first kiss to be more special-

He really couldn't stop himself at the time when you were just being so adorably domestic.

It was way too soon to wife you up- hoooooh no-

His fans whirred loudly as he walked off, screen overheating and glitching ever so slightly from his overbearing embarrassment.

Meanwhile, you kind of just stood there with a rosy face processing everything that just happened.

But when it finally clicked, a shit-eating grin just erupted on your face.

"YESSSS!!!"

You excitedly jumped around and giddily swung your arms.

It earned you a bunch of odd looks from the other personnel and staff but you couldn't care less.

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest from happiness and excitement.

Really, if making him food was all it took for him to kiss you like that-

You would gladly do it all over again!

Vox had hid behind a nearby corner in the hallway to compose himself before he heard your scream of delight.

It had confused him at first, then he peeked out to check and nearly crashed his systems.

You were just engrossed in your own little celebration because he properly kissed you and it was the most adorable thing Vox had seen all day.

He really couldn't stop the dopey grin on his face from forming anymore.

You were really just too adorkable.

A/N: Lololol I probably enjoyed writing this more than I should've but it was just so cute hahahaha, I don't know if I'll write a pt. 2 for it or not but feel free to continue requesting or just dropping in ideas! Hope you guys enjoyed!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #vox x you

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