#I just really wanted to get this queued on time
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As Good as Good Gets (DP X DC Snippet)
Richard "Dick" Grayson is the golden child. In the eyes of the public, and in the eyes of the league. Dick is a sweet, caring son, a man who went from being a sidekick to being a hero. The pipeline from Robin to Nightwing had many people applauding his dedication to keeping Gotham safe.
No one knew the full story, not truly. No one but Bruce Wayne himself. And maybe a certain butler. Many don't know that Dick only became Robin to stop him from hunting down and killing the man who killed his parents.
No one really knows about the harsh fights and arguments he has had with Bruce. The times when Dick would find himself cut off from the Wayne name for a week or so. No one knows that the first person Dick warmed up to was Alfred. Having been bribed with cookies.
Things weren't always this good, trusting, happy relationship between Bruce and Dick. It had been a rough ride, a complicated one. But that was okay, because it got better.
Dick stopped being so moody and angsty. He grew up, he learned, and he changed. He became an older brother, found people that needed him. Needed him in a way that the citizens of Gotham didn't need him.
His brothers like to call him annoying. A goody two shoes who Bruce trusted more than everyone else. They couldn't fathom how someone like Dick could be so stupid and bubbly at all times.
All times, except when shit hits the fans. Despite the name calling, despite coining Dick as the stupid Wayne. They all knew better. They knew that when it mattered, Dick Grayson always pulled through. He was a force to be reckoned with when needed.
The whole Wayne family was a force to be reckoned with when called for. It didn't have to be under the guise of costumes and vigilante acts. Whether he was Officer Grayson or Nightwing, Dick was a man with his morals and values.
One night on patrol as Officer Grayson, Dick found someone who needed that force. A force willing to protect and care for the innocent. The hurt. The damaged, yet still good.
It started like any other night. A call of shots fired by an empty warehouse. There was no sighting or knowledge of any rouges being there, so Dick took the call. Told the team he'll contact them if it seems more than just a civilian incident.
The warehouse was dark, reeked of copper and oil. It didn't take long for Dick to find the trail. The liquid he found looked like the person had been dragged before walking. There was a clear struggle, even with the mess and emptiness that was the warehouse.
That wasn't Dick's biggest concern. The concern lay in just how much blood there was. Too much for any normal person to lose and still manage to stumble through the warehouse.
It wasn't just blood. It wasn't that much, but Dick could spot the strangeness in the liquid. The mixed in green that had an eerily similar color and glow as a certain pit.
Without thinking, Dick followed the trail. Barely remembering to make contact with his family. Give them an update on what he found. Words telling him to stay put for backup went in one ear and out the other.
Something in Dick's gut was telling him he couldn't wait. He needed to find the source. Whoever was currently bleeding out in this warehouse. He silenced the comm, moving further through the dimly lit building.
Then Dick found it. Or more so, he found him. It was just a boy. A boy that reminded Dick too much of the youngest Wayne. A boy sat against a wall, looking pale and weak.
Red and green coated the front of the boy's shirt, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. An attempt to stem the bleeding. A puddle had already started to form beneath the boy, and Dick moved without thinking once again.
He quickly found himself kneeling beside the boy, hands carefully reaching out. Before Dick even touched him, the boy flinched. Eyelids suddenly opened, wide and terrified blue eyes landed on Dick's.
In just that one look, Dick knew what he had to do. The haunting, terrified, and pained look in the boy's eyes told Dick everything he needed to know. The boy was in danger. Someone had hurt this kid, and it was clear it wasn't the first time.
The boy struggled weakly against Dick's touch, terrified whimpers, and barely coherent pleas spilled from the kid's lips. It had Dick's heart aching, clear as day the poor kid has been through hell and back.
It took a lot of reassurance, gentle touches, and promises of help before the kid let Dick take a look at the bleeding wound. A promise on Dick's soul had been the final thing that earned him any semblance of trust. A strange promise, but Dick was willing to make it.
That concern turned to pure anger the moment Dick managed to pull the sticky shirt away from the wound. The sight of a Y-incision cut perfectly into the skin, stitches tight on the skin, but blood still leaking heavily from the wound.
It didn't take long for Dick to realize why. Despite the perfect surgical care of the wound, a good couple of stitches had broken. Leaving gaping spots for that red and green liquid to pour out of.
The boy was deathly silent, tears streaking down his cheek as wide blue eyes stayed trained on Dick. In that moment, Dick knew he had to help. Had to get the kid to safety, patch him up, and find out what kind of monster would do this.
It didn't matter if the kid was human or not. It didn't matter if the kid had special abilities or not. No one, absolutely no one, deserved to be vivisected.
The kid was shrouded in mystery, but that mystery only seemed to grow and become clearer when Bruce had entered the scene. The boy had tensed, eyes flashing a bright glowing green.
Lazarus pit green.
It set a pit of dread in Dick's gut. His mind brings forward memories of Jason. Jason, after his revival, after his dip in that cursed pit. The same flash that his brother would get if he got too angry. Too emotional.
As much as Dick wanted to focus on finding who did this, if it had any connection to Ra's al Ghul. He couldn't. Not when the kid tried to get up, to pull away as Bruce and the others made their way closer.
Right now, Dick only cared about making sure the boy was okay. Fixing those stitches, getting him a meal, and a warm bed.
He needed to get this kid someplace where he felt safe and secure. Comfortable and protected. Dick wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the promise he had made, but he wasn't letting anyone get to the kid.
That included his family. As strange as it seemed, Dick put himself between the others and the kid. Shooting them all a glare that they had only ever seen a handful of times.
Dick lifted the poor boy up in his arms, cradling the crying child close as he led the way out of the warehouse. Ignoring the questions or confusion coming from Bruce and the others. As Dick walked, feeling the trembling boy clinging to him, he made a rather obvious realization.
Maybe the eldest son really was more like Bruce than he expected. Just a few short moments the the boy, a boy that Dick didn't know his name, and he was ready to pull out adoption papers. To give the boy a safety he so desperately needs.
Give him the chance that Bruce had given him all those years ago.
#danny phantom#danny fenton#phandom#dc x dp#batman#dick grayson#nightwing#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc#dp x dc prompt#Dick really saw Danny and pulled a B99#“I've only known this boy for 10 minutes and if anything happens to him I'm killing everyone in this room and then myself”#bruce wayne#could easily mix in Ellie and Dan#after all Dick Grayson's gaggle of adopted kids is bound to grow#the others think they're free from the adoption impulse since Dick is picking up the mantel#not exactly for this idea; but I have these little idea of what the batfam adopts from the DP universe#like Damian latches onto the more animalistic characters; immediately falls in love with Cujo#wants to get to know everything about Wulf and Frostbite#meanwhile Jason latches onto Skulker because holy shit look at that arsenal; the two just sharing their best tips and weaponry choices#No explainations for the next onces cause I don't feel like typing em all out but...#Barbs with Technus and Ghost Writer#Tim with Johnny 13 and Nocturne#Alfred with Lunch Lady and Overgrowth#I could seriously go on and on and no I will not explain myself#(maybe)#queued post#every time I post one of these I'm always wondering where and how tf I picked the name#like I've got a draft right now called “Bullets & Babies” smh#picking out names are so hard but I got tired of just putting “DpxDc random snippet/prompt” as the titles lmao
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hello; i just wanted to say i respect you immensely for the resources you publish on a daily basis. i'm sure you have your own motivations for doing so, but if it ever becomes hard for you to manage, please take some time to care for yourself and your health. you are far more important than i feel you give yourself credit for.
You are so sweet, dear Anon. No worries, though! About +90% of my posts on this blog are now queued. It seems like I'm always on here, but I'm not. Usually you can tell I'm here when I answer replies on posts, or messages like this. But sometimes these are queued too. Or is it.
#anonymous#yup this one's queued too i'm actually not here (maybe) when this posts#sometimes i log on here in between “life” & im just here for a split sec to answer a few qs then im gone again (like rn)#& the queue does the heavy lifting#like i can leave this blog alone for days & uh there WILL be posts (did this a few times alr & so sry if it seemed i was ignoring messages)#& bc i need to space out my posts bc i used to get messages that i post too much like someone said im the only one they see on their dash#& my “motivations” for this is that a lot of this has been in my drafts and old files too long - just wanted to organise them initially#but uh yeah theyre still a mess --- work in progress for me !#& was more of a mess when i accidentally clicked the “shuffle” queue --- that one time#so at first i q'd 1 post a day but then the queue ran til like 2027 & i was like i need to q more per day#so im soooo sry for littering ur dash -- i have the sideblogs for those who want a less chaotic posting sched#no but seriously thank you for this lovely message#i hope you're taking care of yourself too & i really appreciate you taking the time to message me#ok i talk too much be back again soon ---- bye#<3
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#one piece#sanji#black leg sanji#everysanji#thriller bark#ch462#theres been someone whose been slowly reblogging some of my like. really old posts#and doing some absolutely fantastic character analysis in the tags#but oh my god you're reminding me of the cringe captions i used to leave on every post#i did that FOR LIKE. IM PRETTY SURE OVER A YEAR.#IF IT WASNT SO LONG I'D GO BACK AND EDIT ALL OF THEM BUT EUGH#all but one i think the birthday post was funny okay that one was funny and i had to consolidate so much to get it to post on the right day#god. i cant believe this will probably post after the blog anniversary#4 years of every sanji. how do we feel guys#as of queuing this i have uh. 2302 followers and i'll probably have a few more by the time you actually see this#absolutely insane that people still follow this silly gimmick blog i've been running since i was 19#ik i have said it before but this little project got so big and i dont even particularly care for op anymore#i just keep this blog running for the bit of finding every sanji and watching people be amazed at the really really small ones#that i manage to find in the background. its a special skill you gain by running a blog like this#anyway no more tag rambles i want to try and finish this volume tonight if i can
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was playing the new TF2 halloween event, and someone noticed that my avatar was a flamingo and complimented me on it. things are perhaps good, i think.
#been playing for like... 8+ hours? i like a lot of the maps#freaky fair is probably the map i spent the most time on today. like god damn#dynamite. i only played one/two rounds of. it's a neat concept. ive played a map similar to it before#toxic seemed neat. only time i played was with like 6 people max. haven't queued for it again yet#circus is fine. player destruction isn't usually my thing. due to my ability to die constantly#outburst. its versus saxton hale. i can't really say much more than that. it's fine#blazehatten. really really messy. brushes you can stand inside. invisible clipping where railing use to be. missing textures.#iirc it was like that before zombie infection was added. like all of those problems (if not most). im sure they'll get sorted out soon.#dont really have much thought on it's gameplay though#darkmarsh. havent played yet. it looks neat from the screenshots ive seen.#happy to be doing contracts again. freaky fair has been really distracting me from doing more of them.#MVM upgrades in a normal match is weirdly addicting. i kinda wish the map was 5cp instead of 3cp.#mostly due to how sometimes we'll get steamrolled to the middle point and have to struggle getting currency if they have it locked down#since the only ways you make money are: killing enemies and capturing mid#wanted to play with a friend to do the contracts but they were busy all night and i got kinda lonely just playing on my own#normally its not something i think about#but yeah. updates good. messy in places. but not unplayable.
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it makes sense of course that you would not be able to then have a down payment if he doesn't agree to it (since it's a mutual expense too) but don't you have your own money to buy stuff that you want?
Yes and no. All of my money is his money and all of his money is my money. IE we share everything, even if we have it in our 'own' accounts, it's expected that it I need something (like gas in my car) and I don't get paid for 2 days, he pays for it. Or if we need groceries and he doesn't get paid until the end of the week, I buy them. If I want to buy something not in our budget, I generally ask him for permission to do so. He usually doesn't say no unless it would be an exorbitant espense (more than $50 or so). If I want something but can only be purchased online, I ask him to purchase it for me.
This works best for us because I work part time and sometimes don't get hours at all on days I'm scheduled to come in. For example I was scheduled yesterday, but since there was only one appointment, I didn't go in. We would have a slightly different arrangement if I was working full time, but I'd still ask permission to buy things. We also are not well off by any stretch of the imagination, as the only thing that keeps us above the poverty line is his works generous bonus system. So our budgeted monthly 'fun' money that doesn't go to savings is about $30.
#he generally also asks me as well even if its just for my opinion#unless its a surprise gift for me#like he recently bought me a magic the gathering card i really wanted as an update to a deck i have#but he didnt tell me he was buying it#although we had discussed/joked about getting it i didnt think he actually would#because its just an alternate art card for a card i already have/own/use#not queued#he wouldnt do something like that on something worth a lot of money tho#the card was like 7$ and he has a TCG account so i think he got free shipping on it as well.#i also generally dont want for much#like as an example i do my own nails because i dont want them getting messed up at a salon#the only reason i get frivolous things like a massage or my lashes done is because i get it 50% off at my place of work#and its not like thats once a week#ive never been one for buying new clothes or shoes all the time and in fact have too many already so i should get rid of some#we only buy video games during christmas or summer sales#and my main form of entertainment is practically free because only one of us need a subscription for us to play d&d
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ok thats enough being awake im gonna go lie down & think of sad &/or horny hildemet scenarios & hopefully sleep
#ffposting#that wasnt nearly enough sleep is the thing. i just woke up to do my two roulettes i hadnt done yet#im really liking ast so far. though im only lvl 60... excited to see where it goes#smn is a delight i love playing smn. genuinely. blm i just unlocked something so very scary but it seems... manageable.. not too bad...#i just suck at remembering rotations but ill get it right eventually. that one person from that one raid believes in me#& sch. i really need to actually learn it i feel like i have like four or five spells i never use bc they have names i mix up#& idk what they do really. bc i forget to read that outside of combat#i want to get good enough at sch thta i queue for it instead of smn so i can actually get faster pops#i queued as sch for some time but im a little scared now im lvl 70. what if i do badly & they kill me in front of everyone#oh well Um. !! hildemet are going on a trip to garlemald to check on hildes parents & likely kill them. click like if u agree
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Pls don’t tell me you can see a future with me unless you absolutely mean it. Don’t tell me unless you feel that shit in your chest.
#PLEASE#i will take it and RUN w it#to me thats a greenlight to go ahead w my feelings bc like. i want that future w you and you just confirmed you could want it too#and thats the difference#you *could* want it#i already did#im all in w someone as soon as i cant stop checking my phone for you#so PLS#for the love of fucking god dont tell me that gay shit unless you mean it#dont tell me you can see it until you DO#dont tell me you want it until you crave it#AND FUCKING OH MY GOD THE NEXT TIME I TRY SAY I CAN HANDLE SOMETHING CASUAL SOMEONE PLS RUN ME OVER W UR CAR#PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY THERE IS NOTHING IN MY BONES THAT CAN HANDLE CASUAL#i can be hot and say hot things and i will fucking MEAN them#but on the other side im gonna be thinking ab laying in bed w you in my arms and holding your hands and playing w your fingers 😫#i was so fucking downbad oh my god#i wanted to rub ur back when it hurt and keep you safe from the scaries. i wanted to feel safe for you ����#and like i still want that and i will be friends bc i really fucking like you and who you have shown me you are as a person#but just know if i was ever given the opportunity i’d absolutely try to sweet you off your feet and give you everything you deserve and more#🥺🫠🫠#i fucking hate it#this is queued#so if you see it ignore it. i just had to get it out bc goddamn. this hurts way more than it should. and i fucking hate that ab myself#dw im actively tryna switch my mindset 🤪 maybe im cured by the time this posts (i wont be)#idk if i’ll ever get over you man. you’re something special#:/#mine#thoughts and rambles
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dawnwhisper, by artfight user rxsselin!! yippee!
#art#peterofthedrakes#artfight#artfight attack#artfight 2024#i want to put more comments in the tags but im queuing all of these at once and i really just dont have that many thoughts#hey by the time this gets out of the queue i'll be moved out! cool!!
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dark chocolate cherry
i want to bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. i want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.
or; your boyfriend shows up when you just want some alone time [3.2k]
jason todd x fem!reader; reader gets her period and describes painful symptoms; just fluff; jason "words don't come easy so here's acts of service" todd this is earlier in the relationship which is why he's still a little shy but she knows he's red hood? idk man. i was just going with it; can you guess what inspired this? (everything is awful)
The day started at 2 AM when you woke to shooting pains in your abdomen and blood everywhere. It continued until 2:45 while you cleaned yourself, changed clothes, put on a fresh pad, took some painkillers, and changed the sheets. It paused for about an hour until you woke up again at 4:00, courtesy of Gotham’s patented night-life that had taught you to completely tune out the sound of police sirens. Tonight, however, they weren’t tuning out.
The sirens quieted at 4:10, by which angry tears collected in the corners of your eyes as you flopped around in bed in an attempt to get comfortable. No matter what you did, there was always something wrong; the pillow was too hard, the blanket was too scratchy, the position hurt your arm.
From 4:11 to 4:12, you screamed into your pillow.
By 4:15 you had settled in front of the TV with a bowl of dry cereal (it took everything in you not to cry over the lack of milk in your fridge), a heating pad, and your favorite comfort show queued up.
At 8 AM you managed to drag yourself to work, where you half-assed the day’s tasks, took a 15-minute break to cry in your car, then dipped out a half-hour early.
Now, at 5 PM on a Friday evening, you’re curled into the fetal position in front of your TV with your comfort show resumed and your trusty heating pad cranked to the highest setting. Prepared to spend the entire night here, you already changed into pajamas and kept a couple blankets within reach. Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, and you stretch to reach it, careful not to lose your comfortable position or roll off the couch.
Jason About to leave Be there in 20
You groan out loud. You want to throw your phone across the room, but decide against it because no amount of hormones from hell are worth six hundred dollars. You’re still angry, though, for being so stupid as to forget about the date you had planned for tonight. Scrolling up to earlier messages, you see another text from today wishing you a good morning and telling you he was excited to see you tonight. But, too down to bother checking any messages today, you had missed it.
You I can’t tonight anymore I’m sorry I don’t feel great
After hitting send, you place your phone on the ground, not even having the energy to reach for the coffee table again. Or the energy to lift your arm back up, apparently, given how it hangs limply over the edge of the couch. You feel guilty about cancelling, but you are in no state to go out tonight. You’re used to the symptoms of your period hitting so hard. As much as you and Jason care about each other, you’re not sure you’re ready for him to see you like this. You’ve managed to plan your relationship around your hormone cycle so far, but today it came early.
Your phone’s buzzing is muffled by the rug, and you almost don’t hear it. Jason’s photo is displayed on the screen.
Your hanging hand clicks ‘answer’ and puts it on speaker so you can take the call without moving from how you're curled up.
“Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m fine, I just don’t feel up for going out tonight. I’d rather stay home.”
“Did something happen?”
“No, I just got my period so I’m not really in the mood.”
“Okay, we can stay in tonight. What do you feel like eating? I can pick something up.”
“No, Jason…I want to stay home alone tonight.”
There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the line.
“Okay…did I do something?” His voice comes out a little smaller.
“No, you’re fine, I promise. I just don’t feel like seeing anyone right now.”
“…Not even me?”
Your hand presses against your temples to soothe the building tension headache. The self-doubt in his tone brings the anguish of the entire day bubbling up your throat. You feel like the worst person in the world. Exactly how you don’t want him to see you.
“Jason…it’s not you. I just…I feel like shit right now, honestly. Everything hurts, I’m miserable and sad and angry at everything, I’m breaking out all over.” You feel yourself welling up at all these little stresses coming out. “I’m craving everything but feel too sick to eat anything…I feel pretty disgusting right now, and frankly, I don’t want you to see me like this.” You finish your rant with a sniffle. You wipe your nose, trying to hold back the sob that’s threatening to break through. But at his silence, your worst, most improbable fears claw their way to the surface: he hates you now. You scared him away. You exhale heavily into your sleeve as more tears spill.
The phone is quiet for a long moment. Then; “I could never find you disgusting,” he says, gently. “But if that’s what you want, then we’ll reschedule.”
“Thank you. And sorry.”
He speaks with a tone you can’t quite parse. “Don’t apologize. Just feel better.”
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It’s one hour after your phone call, and at the first knock, you know who it is. Who else could it be? With that soft, somewhat hesitant, one-knuckle rap on the door. Only one person knocks on your door like that.
“Jason, I told you not to come here,” you say a little more cutting than you intend to, but your back and shoulders feel like they’re about to snap under a phantom pressure and the frustration of your request being outright ignored leaves a burning bitterness that channels itself into a violent wrenching open of the door.
He jumps a little at the abruptness of your greeting. One look at your face and he visibly deflates.
“I’m sorry…I know you said not to come, but…” his gaze casts downward to his hands. You follow; he’s clutching a reusable grocery bag. Peeking out of the top is a gallon of Neapolitan ice cream. The ice cream carton’s condensation seeped through a small patch of the cloth bag and dripped onto the other items; a bushel of greens, among some other fruits and vegetables, as well as a parcel of brown paper that was fastened closed with a twine string. You return your gaze to his face.
“I think—” he cuts himself off, free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Then he drops his hand and sighs. “I’m sorry. This was a bad idea. You told me not to come here and I ignored you, but I thought…” he trails off, probably hoping you’ll say something so he can gauge your reaction.
You just stare at him.
He shifts his weight back and forth. His hand twitches.
“Okay, yeah, I’ll—”
Then, you burst into tears.
Jason’s eyes widen. He reaches out to touch you, then stops himself. “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, this was stupid. Please stop crying, I’m so sorry—” He’s panicked, trying to calm you down with apologies and soothing assurances that he will leave immediately and never go against your wishes again. All the while you stand in the doorway, blubbering like a toddler with a skinned knee, new tears forming faster than you can wipe the old ones away.
He once again raises a hand towards you, before it stutters, then clenches into a fist as if it takes all his strength to fight against the instinct to be close to you, fighting against the string that tethers him to you. He drags his hand down his face, then it falls back to his side.
“Okay, I—I’m leaving now. I’m leaving. Do you…want this?” He holds the bag out to you.
With it now in front of you, its further contents are visible. You manage to tamp down your tears enough to get a few words out.
“Did you—hic—buy me groceries?”
“Yeah…” There’s a wince in his tone, as if he’s only now realizing that his gesture is not translating as he intended.
You look back up at him with pursed lips and knitted brows, sniffling. Sure, the ice cream you can understand, but…you have no idea what to make of the rest.
The bag drops back to his side. “I figured…it’s just— it’s the stuff that you’re supposed to—” He strokes his palm over his mouth, eyes screwing shut for a moment. He huffs at himself, then continues. “I mean I’m sure you already know all of this, so maybe you already have all these things, and now I’m realizing how unnecessary all this was, and I shouldn’t have assumed—”
“Jason,” you say. Your upset has since been overshadowed by something else, though you can’t tell what it is. And your crying has stopped, but its lingering effects have you feeling congested and a little foggy. You’re half expecting this to be a fever dream that you’re moments away from waking up from in a cold sweat.
“—because obviously you know what helps you feel better much more than I do—”
“Jason.”
“And you— yeah?” His eyes are a little harried when they find yours again. But off your tired and still-confused look, he gets the message and collects himself.
“Right, yeah, I just thought that…maybe I could bring you some of the stuff with all those minerals that are supposed to help women when they’re…menstruating.” He briefly breaks eye contact at the end of his sentence, red rouge creeping up his neck.
You can’t help it; you start to giggle. You can’t remember the last time you heard a man use the term ‘menstruating’ in a non-medical context. And the fact that he’s so shy about it— upset as you may be (though not at him), there’s no denying how adorable your boyfriend is. His head shoots back to you as your laughter intensifies. He blushes harder.
“It’s not that funny,” he mutters.
You step away from the door, finally closing the space between you, and wrap your arms around his torso. Your head nestles into his chest. He gently drops the grocery bag on the ground and reciprocates your hug. He rests his chin on your head, which fits perfectly under his. Like two puzzle pieces clicking into place. You breathe him in.
“Sorry I’m such a mess,” you murmur into his shirt.
He breathes into your hair. “You have nothing to apologize for. And you’re not a mess.”
You look up, chin resting in the space between his collarbones. He looks down at you with a small smile, but some wariness is still etched into his features. Fear of unwittingly upsetting you again. He brings up a hand to push some hair out of your face and tuck it behind your ear. His hand remains there, toying with the hair that falls below your shoulder.
"Thank you for the food,” you whisper. The moment feels too intimate to speak any other way.
“I’m sorry for not listening to you. I just…” He imitates your quietness, like his admission is also too vulnerable to say loudly. “I really wanted to see you. And I hated the idea of you feeling bad about yourself, or being in pain. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Your eyes feel wet again. The first instinct is to hide your face, maybe press it to his chest once more. But, for some reason, you don’t. You want him to see you like this, messy and emotional and upset. You want him to see every part of you, and you want to see every part of him, the good and the bad.
“You didn’t.” A tear slips past the effort to keep it at bay. He shows no reaction to it, eyes never leaving yours, other than a quick swiping away with his thumb. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before. That’s why I was crying. Not because you showed up.”
“That doesn’t seem right. This is nothing. You deserve even more.”
With no words to fully, adequately communicate the blooming in your chest, you stand on your toes, reaching up to him for a kiss. But given his stature, your lips only reach his chin and brush over its underside.
At your quiet whine, he chuckles and leans down to meet you in the middle. The kiss is soft; filled with the innocence of fresh blossoms in the spring, and the sweetness of its borne fruit.
You pull away when a vicious cramp roots you back to the present. Your limps tighten around Jason with a groan.
“I need to go back inside. I’ve been away from my heating pad for too long.”
His shoulders sag when you step away from him. “Oh, um…do you still…want me to leave?”
With a simple exhale of humorous disbelief, you grasp his hand in yours and tug him to your front door. He’s like an excited puppy, eyes brightened and perking up as he grabs the grocery bag and happily trails after you.
He goes straight to the kitchen, pulling out a chair at the counter for you to settle into, then sets the bag on the counter. The ice cream carton has dampened most of the cloth by now, and likely the rest of its contents, but rather than attending to the groceries, his first action is retrieving your heating pad from where it rests on the couch. He unplugs it from the wall outlet and brings it to you. You curl up on the chair with it pressed flat against your lower stomach. It only takes a minute for the pressure in your hips to abate.
Then he moves to the groceries. The ice cream immediately goes in the freezer, and he unloads what’s remaining onto the counter, one by one, and you take note of each item. There’s spinach, carrots, apples, oranges, dark chocolate, some kind of meat wrapped in brown paper, and, strangely enough, an entire block of cheese.
You give him a quizzical look, picking it up to read the label. “You got me…cheddar cheese?”
He retrieves a cutting board and knife from its spot next to the sink, then takes the cheese from you. “Good for certain symptoms.” He slices open the plastic wrapping and cuts out some cubes with skilled efficiency. He does the same with an apple. “They all are,” he says, referring to his entire haul. He completes the makeshift charcuterie board with a couple squares of dark chocolate and slides it across the counter.
You look down at the cutting board, thinking about everything he’s done for you; everything you never even had to ask for. The words sit on your tongue, encaged by your clenched teeth; an admission that coils itself around your spine and squeezes tight, restricts your breathing and pumps your heart at thrice its speed. But you feel yourself welling up again, and the first bout of tears already exhausted you so much that all you can manage is, “I don’t know what to do with all this. I don’t have the energy to make anything good.”
But he just smiles and says, “That’s what I’m here for, honey. Can I make you something?”
You nod. He gets to work. The immediacy of his actions, how he takes no time to decide on a dish or find a recipe, makes you think his previously stated intentions of ‘just dropping this off’ were less genuine than he lead you to believe. Nevertheless, you munch on the snacks he laid out for you and watch him work. The cheese and apples are a surprisingly cohesive combination, the meshing of sweet crispiness and savory creaminess eliciting a contented sigh from you. You try to ignore the way Jason smirks in the corner of your periphery. The chocolate is incredible, yet unfamiliar. You read the label on the packaging: 80% Dark Chocolate with Cherry and Almond Filling. Even if you hadn’t tasted it yet, the quality of the packaging itself would have been enough to let you know that this chocolate is extremely high-quality. Like, special-order-from-Europe quality. Not stop-at-the-grocery-store-on-the-way-home quality.
“Where is this from? Did you buy this today?” You ask him through a mouthful of the rich, melting chocolate.
He doesn’t look up from the carrots he’s dicing. “Uh…no.”
Anyone else would attribute his avoidance of eye-contact to standard kitchen-knife caution. You are not anyone else. You could blindfold him, spin him around ten times, put a sharp knife in his hand, and he could still pull off a perfect julienne. You look closer. His cheeks are dusted with pink.
You let out a laugh. “Jason, you’re not embarrassed about liking fancy chocolate, are you?”
“No! Not at all,” he says, ceasing his chopping. He looks up, but not quite at you.
“Then?”
“‘Then’ what?” He asks.
“Then why are you being so shifty right now?” You try to catch his gaze.
“I’m not!” He defends. “It’s just chocolate! Do you like it? I’ll bring you more.” He’s stealthy with the way he avoids your eyes; you almost can’t notice how hard he’s trying not to make eye contact.
“Jason!” You reach across the counter, having to rise off the chair slightly, and take his face in your hands, making him look at you. When he does, he wears a sheepish smile.
“It’s…” His removes your hands from his face, holding them in his. He mumbles something, turning his head to the side. But you catch the tail end of it, a goading grin already creeping up your face.
“What was that?” You tilt your ear towards him, exaggerating the action.
“It’s Bruce’s.” He, in turn, exaggerates the enunciation, rolling his eyes at your simpering. “I…found it. In his pantry one day. And I liked it, so I took it. And then I…kept taking it. Every time I visited.”
You pout teasingly. “And you’re ashamed to admit that you think he has good taste in something?”
He doesn’t say anything, only hiding his face in his shoulder. You pull on your intertwined hands and he gets the message, skirting around the kitchen counter to come closer.
“You are so adorable, you know that?” You say. You reach up and pinch his cheeks. He swats your hands away, but there’s no mistaking his broad, childish grin for anything but affection.
He breaks off another square from the chocolate bar and holds it to your lips. You bite off a small portion, then push it back to him. He takes the remaining piece in his mouth and his eyes close for a brief moment as he savors the sweet, tart, and nutty flavors. You simply watch, entranced by him. Then, he kisses you. You lean into it, hands sliding up his shirt to grip the fabric and bring him even closer. His hold finds your waist.
He tastes like cherries and dark chocolate.
He breaks the kiss to rest his forehead on yours, and you want to tell him that. That, and so much more. But from the look on his face, the way his eyes find yours and the tips of his ears have a similar heat to the one in your chest, you can tell he already knows.
when it comes to jason's post-pit-repressed-teenager characterization (aka despite being older he's still as inexperienced and confused and insecure about the world outside of vigilantism and w/ women as a 15 y/o would be) (aka my favorite characterization tee hee), i think that he's mature about periods, knows they're normal and not gross or shameful etc, but still gets shy about saying the actual word, for no other reason than the 'shy around women' part always makes me giggle
also bruce is keeping the chocolate stocked specifically because he knows jason likes it and will keep taking it because he loves his son even if his son doesn't love him (he does he's just in his angsty teen 'i hate this family you don't understand me' phase rn)
divider is from here
quote at the beginning is pablo neruda <3
#more of my jason todd domesticity agenda#batman#red hood#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#batfamily#dc universe#dc comics#dcu#dc robin#robin#dick grayson#bruce wayne#damian wayne#tim drake#nightwing#red robin#red hood x reader#batfam#robin jason todd
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Of course, Vivian waits for him to finish speaking first before blinking, rather dumbfounded. Ah... were her words somehow lost in translation, she wonders? No sooner does she realize this, she'll then subsequently grimace before letting out a weak chuckle, because when it came down to it, she had completely forgotten Mizumachi happened to be quite the himbo... for better or for worse. Why, if it weren't for the fact Vivian already knew English wasn't his first language, she may find herself growing flustered over having the compliment redirected back at her, but coming from his lips, it did not sound the very least bit sexy.
"Er... listen, when I say 'treat', I meant I'll be the one footing the entire bill; in other words, your burgers will be paid for by me," Vivian finally clarifies while resisting the urge to add 'Capiche?' at the end. Honestly, the whole entire time, she felt stupid for even having to explain it, but considering this was Mizumachi she's talking about... well, perhaps further simplification was necessary. Regardless, she'll soon turn once she figures out the perfect place to take him.
"Now, come! We have a food truck to go to," Vivian announces, and upon giving Mizumachi one final peek peek over her shoulder, makes a beckoning motion with her hand before setting off. Naturally, she planned on taking him to Wakwak Burger, a food truck in Vancouver that was known to sell Japanese burgers for the very affordable price of $2.85. Granted, after recently selling off her old Miku figurine on eBay, she could afford to take him someplace fancier, but seeing as though Wakwak Burger was way closer to where they were, Vivian concluded Mizumachi would appreciate her choosing a place within walking distance.
"Oh yeah, that reminds me! How many burgers can your black hole of a stomach manage, Kenny? 5? 10?" came her eventual query, because sure enough, it finally dawned on her she has no idea how much Mizumachi could actually eat.
[水]
Mizumachi laughs in tandem, as he was always the sort to laugh along with others, even if he didn’t always know what they were laughing at. Just a team player who wants to join in on the fun!
“I guess so! Thinking uses up a lot of calories.”
Brain food, or whatever they call it, yeah? His body needed a lot of calories for his active lifestyle for one, but it also had to work extra hard in thinking a bunch for classes! There was that extra layer of difficulty because he had to attend classes being taught in another language.
“Hmmm… what am I craving…burgers? I’m good with anything though!”
He thinks about it and feels his mouth watering. He can’t help but crave his go-to convenient meal for whenever you’re super hungry. Burgers. A ton of burgers and fries! It’s a technique he learned a while back, but dipping fries into a shake is a God-tier combination!
“I eat a lot you know? Since you’ve been a good girl, that means it’ll be my treat too! Haha!”
Being the simple sort he was, and some nuances not translating over quite as nicely, he didn’t think much of it, being called a ‘good boy.’ As such, he didn’t see an issue with returning the favor by calling her a ‘good girl’ either. Well, even if he did understand, he wouldn’t have been bothered by it anyways. Guys have perverted conversations with each other from time to time, so it wouldn’t have upset him in any way- but he might have been surprised? That would’ve been the extent of it.
#fightingthetides#║▌ ⧼ ⸢ ʚɞ ⸣︳m̲o̲d̲e̲r̲n̲. ⧽ ― ENTER THE MANLY HEROINE OF JUSTICE.#⸾ ❖︎ ⸾ ( SOCIALIZING / o3: vivian and mizumachi ) ⤹ •• 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕤.#⸾ ❖︎ ⸾ ( QUEUED ) ⤹ •• 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕣𝕪.#[ EXACTLY... tbh i was really tempted to cap my last starter call but ultimately decided against it because i figured it wouldn't have ]#[ many notes anyways ONLY TO BE PROVEN WRONG. granted i did end up hardblocking (1) former mutual who liked it ]#[ just because they had a history of letting our threads together collect dust and i didn't want to write them any more starters knowing ]#[ this... but i did manage to write everyone else a starter (which really burnt me out). it also didn't help i started receiving replies ]#[ every day afterwards to the point where replies began feeling like homework assignments i had to do ]#[ when it comes to this blog though i'd be lucky enough to receive even (1) ask when i reblog a meme; in fact people would more often ]#[ reply back to threads i have with them than spam my inbox or reply to my opens ]#[ i'd also usually have to rabagel my edit/headcanon posts more than once in order to get my moots to notice them ]#[ but yeah i don't really expect you to be here all the time because i know this blog is not your top priority ]
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chirp
(long and silly rant in tags so maybe don't open them if you're scrolling at a leisurely pace)
#chirp#the photos aren't enough...#i say with 25 queued...#inane and sudden desire to become a gifmaker has overtaken me :0#would probably take a lot more time + effort than what i already do but i imagine most of these photos have been posted before...#so even if i've never seen them around i sometimes feel bad in posting them#i don't really watch many concerts though#whereas i read the interviews just to try and see what inspired the songs. good album recs from the band. so on so forth.#its worth it bc every few years they'll get an interviewer who's a total music theory nut#still love the guy who confronted thom about his use of pedal tones.... and geeked out about the creep progression. he gets me.#not to mention seeing all the people who interviewed them in their early days bring up stuff like pop is dead ten years later just because#and then there's the fun facts like nigel telling them they couldn't eat until they were done with 2 + 2 = 5. mad dog selway.#thom insisting 5 or 6 times so far that hail to the thief is a sexy record... why... but you get the idea#not sure why i'm saying any of this or what the Point of this set of tag ramblings is supposed to be uhh.#maybe i'll make gifs in the future but there are a lot more interviews to go... and lots of old ones i want to look at again...#and even more to chase down if they're not up on citizeninsane. so i might be all rh'd out (impossible) by then.#i'm also not reading the interviews For the photos or ''clout''... it's for the anecdotes. my doc for notes on them is literally the size o#a middle grade novel... Oops ! but yeah the photos are pretty recent. i've been at this since like december on and off.#and who knows maybe i will grow tired of the pictures or they will somehow cease to be entertaining!#or i will get a life and not spend hours a day reading interviews... it's not too bad an addiction. cause i'll be done soon.
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JJK Men When They Get Jealous
Angst, fluff
Request from Wattpad
JJK Men x gn!reader
Warnings: slight cussing
A/N: some scenarios you're already dating, others you aren't!
Yuji:
“2 for Human Earthworm please!”
Yuji’s voice rang out as he bought tickets for your movie date. Your eyes gazed at his friendly face, standing close enough to his side to smell his cologne but not too close to impede his ability to pull out his wallet. Were you excited to see this movie for the umpteenth time? Not really, but it was a special anniversary release and Yuji was so pumped to watch it on the big screen again and you weren't going to ruin his fun. Besides, you couldn't say no to his adorable pouty face.
"Yuji! They have the special popcorn buckets here!" you exclaimed, catching a glimpse of the snack bar's offerings from your spot at the ticket counter. His eyes widened in shock.
"No way! They aren't sold out yet?" he asked incredulously. You moved from your place next to him and began speed walking over to the snack bar; there was no way he could miss out on this rare opportunity. Thankfully you had gotten in line when you did because there were hoards of people now queuing behind you, all eager to get their hands on the limited merchandise. When it was finally your turn, you were greeted by the worker, a boy who looked to be your age.
"Hello! What can I get for you today?"
"One earthworm bucket, please," you requested. He nodded, digging behind the counter. After what seemed like much too long, the employee finally procured what you were after.
"You're in luck! This is the last one," he said, handing it to you and giving you a smile. "Do you think I could be lucky enough to go on a date with you sometime?"
Surprised at his boldness, you let out a chuckle. "I don't think my boyfriend would like that very much."
"Your... oh."
You felt an arm land on your shoulders and knew it was Yuji.
"Awesome! You got the bucket!" he exclaimed to you, a huge grin on his face. "You're the best partner ever!" He then turned to the worker who busied himself with getting your popcorn. "I think I'm the lucky one here."
You internally laughed at Yuji's jealousy shining through. It was rare for him to feel that way, but when he did, he immediately made it clear to everyone that you two were happily exclusive.
When you eventually got to your seats in the theater, Yuji's arm never leaving you, you leaned over and gave his cheek a kiss. "You're cute when you're jealous."
"Me? Jealous? I wasn't..." He stopped when he noticed you eyeing him. "You're right. I'm sorry, that was dumb of me."
"No it wasn't. But there's no need to worry, you're the only guy I would ever willingly sit through the same movie a million and one times for."
Now it was Yuji's turn to give your cheek a kiss. "Like I said before, I'm the lucky one to be able to call you mine."
Megumi:
Your headphones were blaring your favorite song, drowning out the noise of the world around you. You were waiting for your boyfriend, Megumi, to meet you so you could explore Tokyo together. Swaying your head to the beat of the music, you didn’t register anyone standing near you until you felt someone tap your shoulder.
“It’s about time you got here,” you joked, taking your headphones off and turning to greet a familiar face. You weren’t expecting to see a stranger behind you and you slightly jumped from the shock.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the boy apologized, smiling gently. “I just wanted to ask you for some directions.”
“Oh, of course. I’m happy to help,” you responded.
“Great! I’m trying to get to this shrine.” The boy pulled out his phone and handed it to you, the screen displaying where he was trying to go. “Are you familiar with it?”
“Actually, yes. So what you want to do is go down this street…”
You told him the directions and typed it in his phone for him just in case he didn’t catch everything you said.
“I hope that helped,” you said, giving him his phone back. He glanced down and you could tell he gave the directions a once over.
“Everything alright?” you asked, seeing as he was hesitant to leave your side.
“I was hoping you had written your phone number in the notes too,” he told you. “I think you’re really cute.”
“Oh! I’m flattered, really, but I actually have a boyfriend.”
The boy was about to respond but all of a sudden his entire vibe changed; he was calm just a few moments earlier which was now replaced with nervousness.
“Right, right! Yeah, that makes sense. Um, thanks for the directions. I’m just gonna…”
The boy practically ran off, leaving you extremely confused. It wasn’t until you felt a menacing aura surround you that you realized the reason for the boy’s abrupt departure.
“That dumbass can’t find a shrine that’s not even a mile away and he wastes his time flirting?” grumbled Megumi, obviously irritated at your previous interaction.
“Jealous Fushiguro has made an appearance,” you teased, earning a glare from your dark haired boyfriend.
“I’m not jealous of a guy like that,” he argued, his defensive body language telling a whole other story from his words. You just shook your head and gave Megumi a quick kiss on his cheek.
“You’re the only one I could ever want. I promise.”
Megumi’s cheeks blossomed pink as he turned his focus away from you, looking into the distance.
“I know,” he mumbled, taking your hand in his. Now he was determined to make this the best date you’d ever been on—so much so that you wouldn’t remember giving that guy directions in the first place.
Yuta:
You and your friend Yuta decided to go ice skating together, wanting to have some stereotypical winter fun at the local rink. You two were deep in conversation until someone else’s voice and a tug at your scarf pulled you back into paying attention to your surroundings.
“I like your scarf,” a boy around your age said, smiling widely at you. “It’s almost as cute as you are.”
“Thank you,” you replied, a bit flustered, “that’s very kind of you.”
He chuckled and skated away, leaving you and Yuta alone again.
“Sorry about that, Yuta, what were you saying?”
He dove right back into where he left off, but his vibe was slightly off; he seemed upset for some reason. You didn’t mention it, figuring he might just be cold or something.
The boy who flirted with you kept skating by the entire session, shooting you winks or smiling at you. You didn’t notice Yuta glaring daggers at him from beside you.
Your time on the ice was about to expire so you and Yuta made one last circle, laughing at a joke you had made. You didn’t notice a dip in the ice and you stumbled backward. You hit the ground with a thud, slightly dazed from your fall.
“Are you alright?” Yuta asked, concern evident in his voice as he turned around to help you up. Unfortunately for him, the other boy was skating right behind you and was about to offer you his hand.
“Do you need-”
“Y/n! Let me help you up,” Yuta said, out of breath from skating as fast as he possibly could over to your position, grabbing onto your arm and hoisting you off the ice before the boy could even finish his sentence. He kept a protective grip on your body, scowling at the boy, until you were out of your skates and back into your normal shoes. Afterwards, you and Yuta walked to a local cafe for a much needed warm drink.
“Did you know that guy from somewhere? You didn’t seem to like him,” you observed.
“I don’t. He just… seemed like a jerk, that’s all,” he responded quickly, his voice higher than usual.
“Were you jealous?” you asked suddenly. Yuta’s face was now bright red and you didn’t think it was because of the cold.
“Me? I, uh… maybe?” he answered, unsure of the right thing to say. You looked at him expectantly, wanting him to elaborate.
“Well, you see, I…” Yuta sighed, defeated. “I really like you and I hated watching him flirt with you so brazenly. I know it was wrong of me to be so rude but I couldn’t stand the thought of you with him. I’m sorry.”
He kicked at a few rocks at his feet, not wanting to make eye contact with you.
“You don’t have to be sorry, Yuta,” you answered softly, catching his attention, “I really like you too.”
His eyes went wide. “You do?”
You nodded in affirmation as he let out a breath of relief, his shy smile shining brighter than the reflection of the sun on ice.
Inumaki:
It was a warm spring day and you were in the school’s garden, basking in the sun. You opened an eye to see who it was disturbing your peace with their footsteps, but it was Inumaki; you smiled kindly at him and made room for him on the bench. You two loved to sit together, often in silence, and observe the beauty of nature.
“Kelp,” he greeted softly, a small wave sent your way as he sat next to you.
“It’s always nice to see you, Toge,” you said back, closing your eyes once more as you breathed in the scent of flowers.
Like usual, his presence was a comfort to you and you felt like you could fall asleep at any moment, wanting nothing more than to rest your head on his shoulder in a display of your affection for him. Before you could let that happen, though, you heard another pair of footsteps approach and you quickly brought yourself out of your daydream.
“Hey Inumaki! Y/n!” Yuta called out, joining you in the garden.
“Yuta! Hello!” you greeted back while Inumaki waved at him.
“I can’t stay too long because I have to study but I brought something for you, y/n,” he said, smiling sweetly as he procured a tiny bag from his pocket, handing it to you. “They’re seeds. The owner of a shop I was at today was giving them out and supposedly the flowers are your favorite color so I figured you could plant them somewhere here in the garden.”
“Yuta! Oh my gosh, thank you!” you replied, giving him a hug in your excitement.
“It’s really nothing,” he said, a tiny blush appearing on his cheeks. “Well, I have to go, but I hope to see you both soon!”
You both bid him goodbye as you pocketed the seeds, eager to get the okay from the school to plant the flowers. You weren’t sure what had gotten into him but Inumkai seemed to have some sort of inner turmoil brewing after the short meeting; you could sense the hurt emanating from him.
“What’s wrong?” you wondered, curious as to what brought those feelings on all of a sudden.
“Cheesy,” was all he said, turning away from you.
“Aww, is someone jealous?” you asked with a chuckle.
“Bonito flakes,” Toge quickly grumbled, not meeting your gaze.
“You’re a horrible liar, you know,” you teased, pushing against his shoulder. “You shouldn’t be. Yuta’s not the one I have feelings for. You are, remember? Or do I have to confess all over again?”
You leaned over and tugged his collar down the slightest bit, planting a kiss on his cheek. Inumkai’s gaze landed on you once more as he gripped one of your hands tightly and typed on his phone with his other hand, saying:
I’m sorry, that was super lame of me. Yuta’s cool and that was nice of him to bring those for you. But TRUST it will be ME helping you plant those flowers.
And I’ll pick one to bring to you every morning when they’ve bloomed🙂↕️😌
“You really are my dream man,” you said, resting your head in his lap as you finally fell asleep in the comfort of the sun and Toge.
Noritoshi:
It was lunchtime at the Kyoto school and you found yourself in the shared kitchen with your classmate Noritoshi.
“Whatcha making?” you wondered, peering over his shoulder.
“Ramen,” came his answer, short and to the point as always. You watched him closely, taking in his every move.
“Do you not know how to cook and that’s why you’re staring me down?” he asked with a slightly annoyed expression.
“I do know how to cook, thank you very much. You’re just interesting to observe.”
Before he could ask what you meant by that, Todo came waltzing in.
“Todo! Just the person I wanted to see,” you greeted. “Do you want to make lunch with me?”
He heartily agreed and you two got to work, pulling out various pots and pans as Noritoshi finished making his own dish and sat down to eat. You and Todo were having the time of your lives, joking around and laughing while creating your meal. Noritoshi, on the other hand, was trying his best not to frown any more than he did on a usual day.
Or puke.
Noritoshi watched the way you lit up with Todo, having the time of your life doing something so mundane, and he desperately wished he wasn’t unnecessarily cold to you minutes earlier.
When your lunch was finally cooked, Todo took his food outside while you stayed in with Noritoshi, taking up the spot next to him. Normally he made some sort of remark about how loud or dirty you were in the kitchen, but today he was quiet.
“You seem bothered by something. Did I upset you?” you asked. His hair made a swishing noise as he turned to you.
“Why would you have upset me?”
“I don’t know. I always seem to, anyway,” you said with a tiny chuckle, taking a bite of your food.
“Not today, you didn’t. I’m dealing with something personal.”
“You can tell me if you want. I’m a person, you know.”
He fought the urge to roll his eyes at your playful demeanor. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Because it’s about you, okay?”
His eyes grew wide when he realized he admitted that out loud. You chewed quietly, hoping he would continue.
“The way you and Todo effortlessly get along, I don’t understand it. I’m envious of your relationship with him. Sometimes I wish…” He stopped for a second. “All of the time I wish that was you and me. I want to be the one that makes your eyes light up like that.”
“Noritoshi, I never knew you felt that way,” you responded after a few seconds of silence.
“Yeah, that was sort of my goal,” he replied, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck.
“I’ve actually had a crush on you for a long time,” you said bashfully, surprising him further. “Would you maybe wanna go out sometime? Like, on a date?”
“If you still have feelings for me after my lame confession,” a small smile appearing on his lips, “then I’d be even more of a fool to turn you down.”
Todo:
Standing in line to meet your favorite idol, you and Aoi were brimming with excited energy. You loved that you could bond with your boyfriend over your mutual love for Takada, including doing all of the super fan activities like waiting in line for hours on end. You turned around to look at the buildings behind you, wanting a view different from the one you’d been staring at since early that morning.
“Woah, seeing your face for the first time was like a breath of the finest spring air. You’re stunning,” said the man directly behind you in line. You couldn’t believe he was hitting on you with your six-foot-something, muscly beast of a boyfriend standing next to you, but you took the comment in stride—it didn’t hurt to be complimented by others every once in awhile! Todo never cared either, nor were you bothered by the looks of admiration he received from men and women alike while you two strolled any given street.
“You’re very kind, thank you,” you responded. He asked what your favorite song of Takada’s was, and from there you two engaged in small talk. He was super nice and very interesting, telling you facts about the various buildings in the downtown area you were at, along with lesser known Takada trivia.
“Next time Takada is in town,” he started, “we should go to the event together. If I could get your number-”
All of a sudden, Aoi turned around and cracked his knuckles, an intimidating look present on his face.
“You better back off or I’ll make sure all your teeth are missing in your meet and greet photo with Takada-chan,” he told the man, who let out a scared squeal, gulping and nodding. Aoi put a protective arm around your shoulder as he spun you forward once more.
“I never thought I’d see the day of you being jealous,” you teased, leaning your head against him.
“Me neither, but I guess that’s the only con of having such an attractive partner,” he replied, a determined expression on his face. “No one can get between my love for you and Takada-chan.”
Ino:
You were standing in line at a cafe with Ino, eager to get your hands on a warm drink to ease the bite of the winter chill. Snuggling up to the man next to you, you leaned your head against his shoulder while waiting in the impossibly long line. Ino gave your forehead a chaste kiss but pulled away in an instant.
“Babe! Your skin is freezing!” he all but yelled.
“You’re being dramatic,” you said with an eye roll. Without a second thought, he reached for your hands and, upon feeling the cold skin there as well, let go immediately.
“Your hands are freezing, too! Lemme buy you some gloves.”
“Ino, that’s really not necessary, I’m fine-”
“Be right back! Order for me, would ya?” he called out, leaving you shaking your head in amusement. That man would steal the sun for you if he thought you needed the extra light to read.
As you predicted, the line was at a standstill for quite awhile. You twiddled your thumbs as you waited for either Ino to come back and entertain you or for you to finally occupy your cold mouth with a hot drink. After many minutes of boredom, the line started moving and it was your turn to order. You told the employee the two drinks you wanted and paid, thanking him.
“What’s the name for the drinks?” he asked, eyeing you in a manner you found a bit suspicious.
“Y/n.”
“I’ll let you know when those are ready, y/n,” he answered, putting an uncomfortable emphasis on your name.
“…Yeah. Thanks,” you said apprehensively.
As you waited for the drinks to be made, you anxiously glanced around but there was no sign of Ino. Maybe gloves weren’t easy to find around this neighborhood?
After what felt like another eternity, your name was called and you approached the drink counter. The employee handed you the drinks and you tried to ignore the glaringly obvious phone number.
“Call me sometime, yeah?” he suggested, a smirk resting on his lips.
You glanced at the cup with his phone number scrawled on it, raising your eyebrows. “Thanks so much for that. Since this is his drink, I’ll let my boyfriend know you’re interested in him.”
“Oh-that’s not-I didn’t-” the employee floundered with embarrassment as you left with a laugh, taking your drinks to Ino who must have made his way back into the cafe sometime during the whole ordeal.
“Here’s a pair of gloves,” Ino greeted you, his smile not at all reaching his eyes like it normally does. You thanked him profusely as you set his drink in front of him and put on the gloves, relishing in the warmth they brought you.
“What’s wrong? You seem sad. Did something happen while you were out?” you questioned, worried for him.
“No, no. It’s nothing. I’m being dumb.”
You furrowed your brows and took a sip of your drink. “No way it’s nothing. I can tell something’s bothering you. I wanna help.”
“Well, I…” Ino stopped and took in a deep breath. “You were laughing with that employee and I see that he gave you his phone number and now I’m feeling a type of way about it.”
Ino looked away, almost ashamed as he sipped from his drink as well. You quickly reached for his unoccupied hand.
“Oh, Ino, you have it all wrong. I was laughing at him for putting his number on your drink. I certainly wasn’t interested in him and you have nothing to be jealous over.” You gave his hand a squeeze as his big eyes looked into yours. “You’re the only man I could ever want. You’re the one who treats me like royalty. Who else would brave the cold like you did to buy me a pair of gloves when I have too many pairs that I left at home?”
“Probably not that guy,” Ino mumbled, his cheeks pink.
“Definitely not that guy,” you said with a smile, bringing his hand to your lips and giving it a kiss. “Now, enjoy your drink. I had to brave his idiocracy to get it to you.”
Gojo:
You didn’t know what kind of gods were listening to you or what kind of magic you possessed, but somehow you managed to have both Gojo and Nanami over at your place for dinner one night. You were close friends with both and loved to hang out with them any time you could.
You and Nanami were currently chopping up vegetables while Gojo watched from afar, playing games on his phone. You and Nanami worked quietly and efficiently while Gojo huffed.
“Am I going to be banished over here forever?” he wondered.
“Yes,” you and Nanami answered in tandem, moving around each other perfectly as you dumped the vegetables into a pan and he put the scraps in the compost bin.
“It’s not fair. I’m an adult too, you know,” he complained. Nanami gave you a look before raising an eyebrow at Gojo.
“Are we sure about that?” he said, earning another grumble from Gojo.
“Satoru, you can help me cook the meat if you’d like,” you offered, not wanting to ostracize the poor man. It’s not his fault he’s horrible at cooking! Maybe if you supervised, he’d learn something today.
He learned that fire alarms are loud and you should never pour water on a grease fire.
“That could’ve gone… worse,” you reasoned, looking at the charred pile of what once was food in your pan.
Nanami pulled his apron off and his phone out. “I’m getting us takeout. I’ll be back in a half hour or so.” He pointed at Gojo as he stood in the doorway. “You better not burn this place down.”
When the door clicked closed, Gojo let out a long sigh as he put his head in his hands.
“I can’t believe I messed that up. You guys make cooking look so easy, especially when you’re in the kitchen together.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Satoru,” you told him, trying to salvage your pan, “we’ve cooked together a lot over the years. It doesn’t happen overnight.”
“The way you two moved together in sync. When I saw that I just wished it was…”
He didn’t finish his sentence, opting to rest his head against the table he was sitting at. You felt a tug at your heartstrings seeing him so dejected.
“Wished it was what?” you questioned, walking over to him and resting your hand on his back.
“Us,” he said plainly, lifting his head and blindfold up, his blue eyes sparkling. “I wish it was you and I like that. A team. Watching you and Nanami made me realize how much I want to spend my time with you, y/n. Be with you.”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “Are you serious?”
“For one of the first times in my life, yes,” he replied, his lips upturned in a smile.
You moved your hand from his back to his hair, ruffling it. “I’d like to be with you too, Satoru. We can figure out the logistics of what that means for us after our first task as a couple, which is to clean the pan you obliterated.”
“Can’t I just buy you a new one?” he groaned, standing up to help you.
“Nope.”
“I really do hate cooking.”
Geto:
With dropping temperatures came the chance for you to show off your warmest jackets as you strolled around the cold city streets. Today, you were wearing one of your favorites, made out of cozy, teddy bear-like fabric. You and Suguru had been walking along the streets together but he had stepped inside a shop to buy you both a hot drink. You opted to stand outside in the brisk air, enjoying the winter season to its fullest.
“Excuse me,” a man said, coming up to you, “I hate to bother you but I wanted to tell you I liked your jacket.”
“Oh! Thank you,” you replied, caught off guard by his compliment. He asked you a question and you two fell into conversation, the man helping you pass the time before your boyfriend was by your side once more.
“This might sound strange, but can I touch your jacket? It looks really soft,” he wondered, looking bashful.
“Go ahead,” you nodded, totally unbothered. He cautiously brought his fingertips to your arm and felt the fabric. Unfortunately for him, it was really bad timing.
“Step aside or I’ll rip your dirty fingers off your shameful hands one by one and force feed them to you,” Suguru chimed in, appearing before the man with a disconcertingly calm smile. The stranger scurried off, a look of horror stuck to his facial features, but he luckily survived this encounter with your boyfriend so you figured he’d be fine.
“Are you alright, my dear?” asked Suguru, handing you the two drinks while he straightened your jacket.
“I am, thank you. You’re scary when you’re jealous,” you observed, your stomach fluttering with butterflies over his display of protectiveness.
“Oh? That’s good to know,” he hummed airily, taking his drink in one hand and your hand in his other one. “That filth was lucky to escape with his life today. I was hesitant to do anything that might have spilled our drinks.”
“Thank you for this, by the way,” you said, gesturing to the cup.
“Anything for my one and only. Now, where did you buy that jacket? I’m going to get you a new one that’s unsoiled.”
Nanami:
“Y/nnnnn! I’m boredddd. You and Nanami should come shopping with me!”
Gojo was practically whining at you through the cellphone speaker. You rolled your eyes as you looked over at Kento, your boyfriend shoving his nose deeper into the morning newspaper he was reading.
“I don’t think Kento’s in the mood to go out right now, Satoru.”
“Well, how about you? C’mon, please?”
“Hold on. I’ll check with Kento.”
“Aww, do you need his permission-”
You ignored the teasing from the white haired man as Kento gave you a nod.
“That’s fine by me if you’d like to go. I have work to finish anyway.”
“Thank you,” you mouthed to him before answering Gojo. “Meet me at the train station in 10?”
“I’ll get there in 8,” he replied, ending the call. You gave Kento a kiss and left your shared apartment.
Late that evening you returned home, your arms full of bags.
“I take it you had a good time?” questioned Kento, his arms folded and eyebrows slightly raised. “You were gone quite some time.”
“Oh my gosh we had such a great time! Satoru took me everywhere. We started…”
As you recounted your day excitedly, Nanami’s heart felt heavier and heavier. Noticing his quietness, you stopped in your tracks.
“Kento? Are you alright?”
He sighed. “It’s nothing, really. It’s… juvenile.”
Your eyes softened as you took a seat next to him. “You know you can tell me anything.”
Another sigh. “You had a lovely outing with Gojo but I can’t remember the last time we had that much fun together. I’m… jealous of the way he has you smiling so much.”
“Kento, honey,” you soothed, putting your hand on his, “there’s no need to be jealous. Yes, my time with Satoru was exhilarating, but it was extremely exhausting. I much prefer the fun you and I have together; the kind that’s comfortable and familiar. You make me smile first thing in the morning all the way to the time I sleep and even in my dreams. You’re my favorite person to be with in this whole world and I’m sorry if my actions led you to assume otherwise.”
“You’re right. I was being silly. I’m sorry, too,” he said, the tips of his ears turning red from embarrassment.
“Hey, I got you a little something when I was out,” you told him, reaching into one of your bags. You pulled out a box and gave him a gentle kiss.
“I love you so much,” he murmured against your lips, pulling you in close.
Choso:
After looking through the peephole, you answered your door with a warm smile.
“Please, come in!”
Your landlord had come to collect your rent. He was a good natured guy with a kind wife and new baby; his apartment complex was nice as well, as was the reasonable price he charged per month so you had no complaints. You always liked to make small talk with him while you procured the envelope of cash you had lying around since he made for good company. You two spoke for a little while before you opened the door and said goodbye, knowing your boyfriend Choso should be coming up your steps at any moment.
All Choso saw as he walked up your stairs was a handsome young man leaving your apartment, making you laugh on his way out.
He didn’t like it.
At all.
“Who might you be?” he questioned the man, his voice carrying an underlying tinge of displeasure.
Your landlord put his hand out for Choso to shake. “I’m-”
“I’m Choso, y/n’s boyfriend,” he said with a glare, putting an emphasis on the last word. “We’ve been together for a while. A long while. Just so you know.”
“Choso,” you interjected before things could get any more awkward, “this is my landlord.”
Like a light was switched on in his brain, Choso’s eyes widened and he grasped your landlord’s hand that was still stretched out.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” he told him sheepishly, obviously embarrassed.
“You as well, Choso. If you’ll both excuse me, I have to get home to my wife and child. Have a great rest of your morning.”
As your landlord left down the steps, Choso was already inside, slumped on the couch.
“I’m such an idiot,” he groaned. You let out a tiny giggle.
“You went in pretty strong there, but I can’t say I blame you. It must’ve looked weird seeing a guy come out of my apartment so early in the morning. I would’ve been jealous too if I were in your shoes.”
“I wasn’t jealous!” he replied.
You raised your eyebrows. “Really? The way you emphasized boyfriend? Saying we’ve been together a long while? I would’ve thought you were going to fight him if I didn’t intervene.”
“I would’ve,” Choso spoke without hesitation.
“If he ever raises the rent,” you said, kissing his cheek, “I’ll gladly support that.”
Toji:
You were on your way to have lunch with your friend Toji when an attractive man your age waltzed up to you and struck up conversation as you walked to the cafe. Since you were single and he was cute enough, you let him entertain you on your journey. You could tell he was turning on the charm as much as he could, making you laugh at his silly quips. That lasted all the way until you bid him farewell when Toji came into view. Looking dejected at the goodbye, your admirer sauntered away.
“I didn’t get his number,” you thought to yourself, “what a shame. Oh well.”
You greeted Toji with a hug, his strong arms wrapping around you.
“I’m starving! Let’s order,” you told him, already browsing the menu the restaurant had posted outside.
“After you then,” Toji replied, opening the door for you.
You both ordered your food at the counter and sat at a table, talking about what you both had been up to in the time you hadn’t seen each other. You noticed Toji’s gaze wander away from you every so often, but you thought nothing of it—he had a very protective nature so he was probably keeping an eye on people he deemed suspicious. You got your answer of who he was watching at the end of your meal when your story about dinner with your friends was interrupted by Toji’s booming voice.
“What the fuck are you lookin’ at, huh?” Toji asked aggressively to someone over your shoulder. You looked over to find the man that was flirting with you had taken up a seat in the booth diagonal to you and Toji, and must have been staring at you throughout your lunch.
“Oh, now you wanna act coy? You were a big man the past half hour, eyeing them up,” he snarled, jabbing a thumb your way. “We got a problem or not?”
“No! No problem, sir!” The man all but ran out of the restaurant, not even sparing you a second glance. You rolled your eyes at his cowardice; he’d never find a partner if he couldn’t find his backbone. Toji leaned back into his seat, crossing his arms in annoyance.
“Now I can finish my meal in peace. It was difficult to eat in the presence of that lovesick loser.”
“Hey,” you scolded, “is it that sickening to know someone has a crush on me?”
“Yeah, actually, it is,” he responded, leaning in. “I don’t want to see another man looking at you like that.”
You furrowed your brow. “Another man-? Toji, are you jealous or something?”
“What? No, no way. That’s ridiculous,” he said defensively, but you noticed the way he started shoveling food into his mouth to avoid further conversation.
“So if I said that guy flirted with me the entire walk over here? That wouldn’t make you feel anything?”
“I’d feel annoyed that he bothered you,” he said between bites of his meal.
“And if I wasn’t annoyed? If I liked him coming onto me strongly like that, if he gave me his phone number?”
Toji’s fists clenched at that. “He better not have.”
“What would it matter to you?” you challenged, not backing down.
“Fine! Maybe I do like you. So what?” he barked. “It makes me angry that guys approach you. If that’s jealousy, then yeah, I’m jealous. Now, will you stop your interrogation like I’m some sorta kid in trouble?”
A grin showed up on your face with this newfound knowledge. “Last question, Mr. Fushiguro: what would you do if I said I liked you too?”
He finally looked up from his bowl of noodles. “I’d ask if you were being serious.”
“I am.”
Toji put his chopsticks down and smirked. “In that case, I’d kiss you like I’ve been wanting to for a long time now and then chase down the dude that thought he could get away with flirting with my partner like that.”
#yuji x reader#megumi x reader#yuta x reader#yuta okkotsu x reader#noritoshi kamo x reader#inumaki toge x reader#aoi todo x reader#ino takuma x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#nanami x reader#choso x reader#toji x reader#jjk headcanons#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk fanfic#jjk angst#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk x reader fluff#jjk x reader angst#yuji itadori x reader#jjk x reader jealous
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Mama-in-Training.
Enji Todoroki X F! Reader (smut)
A/N: life has been whooping my ass, sorry for my inactivity!! i'm trying to post more often, so i might start queuing up some fics to keep posts kinda consistent :3 anyways, for today, i offer you a humble enji fic
Tags: age gap (early 20s — 50s), breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, use of "mommy" and "daddy", size kink/difference
Wordcount: 2.4k
After his divorce, it took Enji a few years to get back into dating. By the time he found you, all of his kids were well into adulthood and moved out. That was fine with you, it would have probably been awkward to play step-mom to his kids who were the same age as you.
However, that didn't mean that you didn't want children of your own. You never really brought it up with your now husband, seeing as he already had a bunch of them. You assumed he didn't want any more, that he was tired. That's the thing about age gaps— you're always in a different stage in life from your partner. It's hard to keep up.
You sat with him in the dining room, quietly eating breakfast together. He was shuffling through a newspaper, his stoic face in tact.
Well, no time like the present. You decided to bring it up.
You took a sip from your tea cup before placing it down gently on the table. You folded your hands on your lap and leaned forward a bit, trying to get his attention.
"Enji."
"Hm?" Enji hummed absentmindedly in response, not taking his eyes off the newspaper for a few more seconds. He reached over and grabbed his own cup to take a sip, his eyes skimming across something in the paper before finally putting it down and looking at you.
"What is it?" he asked, voice gruff and tired.
"I want a child." You kept your eyes trained on his face, watching as his expression changed.
His face slowly shifted from confusion to slight distaste. He wasn't expecting that, not exactly.
He sat up a little straighter and looked at you intently. He wanted to make sure he heard you correctly. "A child? Really?"
"Yes, and I want one soon," you said, picking your teacup up again. You pressed it to your lips, speaking quickly again before drinking. "I'd like more than one, you know."
That last part was news to him. He was already surprised to hear that you wanted one, but two? More?
He let out a deep sigh and leaned back in his chair, crossing one of his legs over the other.
"Why?" He asked bluntly.
Enji didn't want to say no right away, but his children were already adults. He didn't realize you wanted kids of your own. He always assumed you wanted a simple, quiet life with no little brats to deal with.
"You're getting older, you know," you said, voice teetering on teasing. "Don't you think we should strike while the iron is hot? Before you're too old?"
"Who are you calling old, woman?" He rolled his paper and shook it at you, pointing it at you with a small scowl. "I'm in better shape than most men decades younger than me, don't act like I'm on the verge of death."
"I don't know," you said with a shrug, leaning back in your chair with a smug, little grin.
You were trying to rile him up, and it was working. Enji was not a man who held up well to your incessant teasing. It was rather easy to get a rise out of him— a fact that you often exploited.
"You aren't exactly in your prime anymore, are you?"
Damn you, he thought. He stood up, hands splayed on the table, eyes narrowed.
"Who's not in their prime? I'm doing just fine. I'm not even that old, you know that," Enji said in an overly defensive way. It was adorable, watching him get so worked up over a little prodding.
"Then chasing around some kids should be a breeze for you," you retorted sharply, raising an eyebrow in a challenging way. "C'mon, don't you miss having kids in the house? It'll be fun!"
He let out another, more exasperated sigh. Your persistence was a trait he had become accustomed to. Whenever you wanted something from him, you didn't stop until you got it. It was cute, but god, he hated how weak he was for you.
Enji was quiet for a few moments, staring at you as he considered it. He knew that if he kept arguing, this conversation would go on forever. "Fine," he finally relented. "We can start trying."
You clapped a few times in celebration, childishly whooping and cheering over your little victory.
"I knew you'd agree!" You paused and looked over him, a mischievous smile forming. "So, theoretically, we could start right now?"
Enji raised an eyebrow at you as that little grin appeared. He knew that look. "Now?" he repeated, an almost imperceptible smirk of his own began to form. "Right this second?"
You nodded and he scoffed, patting his thigh, thick with muscle and strength.
"Come here, you eager thing."
You did so gleefully, footsteps speedy as you went to sit on his lap, legs hanging over his thighs as you face him head on. You wrapped your arms around his neck.
He watched as you practically rushed over to him, settling comfortably in his lap. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close to him. He leaned forward, lips ghosting against yours before he spoke.
"You really do want a kid, huh?" he asked, smirk fading ever so slightly as reality sunk in.
Enji was battling with himself mentally. He wanted to make you happy. His personal motto had become "anything for you, dear," but did he really want to start over with another plight of snot-nosed kids? He hated to face his own age, but he was getting up there. Could he—?
He thoughts were interrupted by you answering his question, a soft, needy look on your face.
"I do. I really do, Enji. Don't you think I'll make a good mommy?" You braced your hands against his chest, eyes wide with excitement. "I think I'd look good pregnant too, with a cute lil' bump, eh?"
Fuck. Fuck, he really liked that image. Any doubt that was lingering was replaced with you. Full and pregnant. Tits swollen and heavy, face glowing.
A shudder rolled down his body and a low rumble escaped his throat. He couldn't remember the last time he was this turned on. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, nearly pulling you against him completely. He began placing slow, purposeful kisses all over your neck and jawline.
"Yeah?"
He couldn't form any words outside of that, his head foggy with only his desire to fill you up present. The grip he had on you was a little harsher than usual, fingers digging into the fat of your ass through your pants.
You pressed your lips against his roughly, hands carding through his hair.
"I want you to fuck..."
You spoke only when you pulled away for gasps of air, sentences coming out breathless and choppy.
"...all of your cum into me. Want it all, gotta make sure it takes."
He shivered again, your dirty talk getting to him more than he'd like to admit. He let out a low growl as your hands moved through his hair, his grip on you only getting tighter.
He bit down on your lip, pulling you back into another rough kiss. His hands continued to move over your thighs, slowly going further and further up until he was palming your cunt through the layers of fabric covering you.
"Such a dirty mouth," he muttered against your lips. "You really want it, huh? I'll give it to you. I'll fill you up, baby. Whatever you want."
His hands began to slide over your body, caressing your skin gently. His touch continued to linger over you, slowly making its way down lower to where you wanted it most. His fingers began to rub and tease at your core through your underwear, his hand messily shoved down your pants. His tongue licked roughly at the sensitive flesh of your neck. He made a point to leave marks, wanting others to be able to see that you belonged to him.
Soon enough, your full belly would be a mark of his upon you. Hickies would suffice for now, though.
"You're all mine," he said gruffly, his tone possessive as ever. "I'm gonna give you everything you want, baby. Give you everything you need."
Normally, you enjoyed the chase, the teasing. Making out and heavy petting was all a part of the fun, on most days. But not now. Not when you knew exactly what you wanted— and what did you want now?
Non-stop loads.
You shimmied on his lap, kicking your pants off impatiently and staring up at him.
"I want you, and I want you now," you said, trying to sound authoritative only to come off as needy and whiny. "Stop playing around, Enji
He chuckled at your attempt to sound like you were in charge, his lips curling up into that smug, confident smirk.
"Bossy today, aren't we?" His other hand coming up to rest on your waist. His grip was still as harsh as before. "So eager to be knocked up, you've forgotten how to ask nicely."
You groan exasperatedly, resting your head against his chest. "Daddy, please. Don't tease."
"Oh, fuck." He inhaled sharply, fingers rubbing small circles on your hipbones. "You know I love when you talk like that."
That one word was all it took.
You were always able to push the right buttons, to get him to do what you wanted. He pushed your head back, hand cupping your cheek, wanting to see your face.
"That's better," he said, his voice low and rough, almost a whisper. "Begging like that, baby."
Before you could respond, Enji had slung you over his shoulder, dragging you off to the bedroom.
He slowly repositioned himself until he was settled between your legs, his broad chest pressed to yours. He looked down at you, taking in just how needy you were. He knew you wanted this just as much as he did, if not more, and he was going to make sure he gave you what you needed.
His mouth was back on your neck, more marks being left on your skin. He spoke between sucks and bites, the words muffled. "You're still so eager, baby. All for me."
What round was it now? Three? Four? You couldn't tell. Your legs were cramping from being pushed to your chest for so long. Your greedy little hole was full of cum, dripping onto the silky sheets beneath you. Your mind— a mushy mess.
You felt Enji push his cock back into you, rubbing the head over the leaking mixture of slick and seed that was drooling out of your slit.
You winced a bit at the stretch. No amount of prep could ease the burning stretch of his girth. Your walls were snuggly closed around him.
It was always like this, he was huge, after all. A brief look at his sturdily built, tall figure would give anyone ideas. Obviously, a giant man like him had the cock to match. Every time felt like the first time with him, with the sharp pinch of him sliding in, but God, it was worth it.
He always felt a sense of pride when he took you like this. He was the only one who could make you feel like this, and he knew it. The only one who was allowed to satisfy the need inside you. His ego only grew the further he sunk in, watching your body swallow all of him yet again.
"Jus' one more, baby. Okay? Think you can take one more?"
His large body caged you under him, trapping you completely, strong hands keeping your legs firmly folded.
When you didn't answer, he huffed and brought his calloused thumb over your clit. He rubbed rough circles over the nub.
"You're such a sensitive thing," he mumbled, collecting some of the slick that dripped down the seam of your thighs, right next to your cunt. He smeared the wetness over your clit, smoothing his movements. "So little, too."
"S—shut up," you managed to spit, mouth hanging open as you felt him ram sharply against your cervix, kissing the tip of it with his cock head.
"But it's true."
Meaner than a snake, Enji was. The way he pushed one of his hands down on your lower stomach made you see stars. Every stroke felt deeper than the last— harder. More targeted. He was focused on hitting your deep, spongy weak spot with each of his thrusts.
"How are you going to handle carrying my child, huh? Tiny thing like you. My cock already spilts you in half, the hell are you gonna do with a child of mine?" He was looking down at you, stoic expression tinged with a hint of amusement. "You'll break right in half, baby. Y'aren't strong enough for it."
You huffed, a soft moan slipping through your mouth as he continued to fuck into your tight chasm like a crazed man, little regard for how rough he was being with you.
"I dunno," you mumbled, bottom lip bit tight enough to almost draw blood, "but I know I can handle it. Was made to be yours, daddy. I can take it. I gotta."
His grip on your thighs grew more intense, his hands digging into the soft, pillowy skin. He liked when you said that. He liked that you needed him, that you needed to mother his children.
Enji's teeth tugged at your neck rougher than before, his tongue licking the assaulted skin soothingly. It was a dance of sorts— sharp teeth marking you, marking you bruise and bleed, with a gentle tongue to clean you up right after.
"You really do want it, huh? You need it so bad," he said between rough kisses. "Well then, let's hope it takes."
With that, he braced one hand beside your head, tightly gripping a pillow, and the other leaving bruises on your thigh. He came for the final time, adding to the sopping, sloppy mess that previous rounds left in your hole.
"Ah, fuck. There you go, mama," he groaned, voice tight with satisfaction as he spoke the nickname. "Now, all there is to do is wait."
He kept his cock sheathed inside of you, plugging his cum up in your walls.
"...Unless you think another turn is needed. Fifth time's a charm, isn't it?"
#enji todoroki x reader#enji todoroki#endeavor x reader#enji x reader#smut#bnha x reader#bnha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#endeavor x you#todoroki enji#endeavor
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Misfortune Teller
tldr: An older Danny, apprentice to Clockwork, does a lot of field work across dimensions, resetting the timeline, queuing future events, and who knows what else. Occasionally, he warns people about such upcoming possibilities, to set them on the right path. How, you might ask? Well in this case... as a wandering fortune teller.
Crack-fic (oh god, it's getting long and my logic brain won't let it remain as crack) where Danny becomes Clockwork's apprentice after getting his GED. Living his infinite afterlife to the fullest. Inspired by this tumblr post.
Working for Clockwork had been... interesting so far. At first, Danny got frustrated by how vague and cryptic Clockwork was. He'd just shunt Danny off to some ancient time with a few words, his own time medallion (Danny carried it everywhere with him now), and then pop back into the portal, leaving Danny with only the faintest idea of where to go.
Eventually, after enough time (ha!) spent around Clockwork, Danny figured out that it just basically meant that he had free reign and to do whatever he wanted. Because if he went on the wrong path, (like that one time in Pompeii when he had almost caused the volcano to explode a few years too early), Clockwork would just pop on by, say another few cryptic words, and then it'd all be fine and dandy, or as he liked to say, "All is as it should be... Now stop practicing your wail by an active volcano."
After telling Jazz about that (it was supposed to be funny, not concerning), she just sighed and shook her head, with a forlorn "think before you act, Danny!" but hey, it'd turned out fine so far, so who cares how he does what Clockwork asks him to do, as long as it gets done, right? Even if it's with a liiiiitle more mischief than strictly required.
Besides. Danny was the one who had been doing time shenanigans across millennia, not Jazz. And he thought he'd been getting pretty good at it too! He'd actually started giving himself a different made-up background for each universe he visited. Sam and Tucker were helping him keep up with the identities on a spreadsheet, so if he had to go back to one he'd already visited, he'd remember who he'd said he was supposed to be.
---
He was on a call with them one evening while haunting Jazz's apartment, doing just that, when he felt a familiar tingle in the back of his throat, as well as a heightened awareness of the seconds passing by, that always accompanied his mentor's appearance.
Sam was talking about his past stint posing as a god of death when he cut in. "Hey- sorry to interrupt, Sam- Clocky's here, guys, I gotta dip."
"Aw, come on! We hardly talked any this past week since you passed your certifications, man," Tucker complained.
Danny rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, yeah. Partly on you too though, you've been caught up outside of class, and Sam's schedule is nearly the opposite of yours."
Sam hummed in agreement despiter Tucker's scoff.
Danny missed hanging out with them as much as they had in high school, but hey, life goes on. Or at least, theirs did, to college. After finally flunking out of Casper High, he'd taken some time to get used to his responsibilities in the ghost zone, and when he had, he realized that he didn't really have much enthusiasm or timeleft for his human life.
And he didn't really want to go back home either.
But Jazz had made him tie up any loose ends before he noped-off to god knows where, which frankly, he had to thank her for. Getting his GED took a few years, but it was an accomplishment that could be attributed to Danny Fenton, no ghostliness required. Then he was able to let that tether go free.
Pulled out of his musings by a few more grumbles from Tucker, Danny said his goodbyes, promising to call the next time they were all available.
After hanging up, Danny swiveled around, anticipation already lighting up his eyes an ethereal green.
Clockwork, for his part, had been waiting patiently through Danny's lengthy goodbyes. Although he supposed that it tracked for the watcher of time to be patient. With his job, it'd be a nightmare if he wasn't.
"Phantom," Clockwork spoke, calm as always. "I have some tasks I need you to complete as my apprentice."
And Danny, always ready for adventure, didn't need him to explain any further. "Sure! When do you need me to be?"
Clockwork smiled at that. "I am fortunate you are eager. Follow me."
---
Danny popped into existence in this universe with a burst of cold air and static electricity. He found himself hovering by a clocktower above a sprawling, gothic city. Smog and light pollution obscured the stars above him, to his disappointment. He comforted himself with the fact that he'd probably have all the time he wanted to fly someplace less populated to see them later.
He started off by familiarizing himself with the city. As he flew, he followed the trail of power and met the resident city-spirit, a spooky- but kind underneath- woman draped in black lace, who told him her name was Gotham. He spoke in length with her about this universe, its heroes, and her knights. On that, she was very enthusiastic... or at least Danny thought she was, her projected emotions belaying much more than her gloomy exterior. She told him how her knights had been through a lot and would need some guidance fighting the darkness that pooled in her deepest corners, smiling with too much glee, filling lungs with fear, and terrorizing with cold hard bullets.
Danny could sense that the dangers she spoke of were growing in power, ever slowly. The longer they shadowed people's minds and hearts, an intangible thing grew that lent them more otherworldly pull than their physical forms had right to hold.
That must be what he was sent here for.
But... they were weak, pitifully so for him, infinite king as he was. And besides, he wasn't here in that sense. He was a messenger, a simple apprentice. And he could do this however he wanted.
Cue his talk with Lady Gotham, and subsequent idea to arm her knights. With what? Well, he figured knowledge would be a start. Flying high above the city invisibly, Danny noticed a sea of colors and lights by what appeared to be the city's pier. He flew down, noting that it appeared to be the setup spot for a travelling circus or carnival of some kind.
He considered what to do. One of Lady Gotham's troubles was a madman clown, right? Well maybe he'd be attracted to his ilk here... and with the danger came the knights. Maybe he could catch one of them here?
Danny was floating around at the entrance and beginning to formulate a plan when a flyer caught his eye. Looking for a mystic to read fortunes. URGENT!
Hadn't Clockwork said something about fortunes? And he hadn't made an identity in this universe yet...
A mischievous smile crept across Danny's face, splitting it in two with far too many teeth.
---
Half a city away, a man in all black, perched on the very same clocktower that Phantom had Appeared by, shivered as he felt an ominous premonition about his sanity in the near future...
Said man quickly opened his comms to check in with his many, many kids. Yet even after hearing back from each, he still felt apprehensive.
Somewhere even further, Clockwork laughed.
---
And that's how Danny found himself seated at a fortune teller's booth at a pier in Gotham, two days later, for the Tricksy Traveling Circus's grand opening.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#mine#is-this-even-relatable writes#is-this-even-relatable prompt#writing prompt#i wanna write this#prompt#prompt for me#I welcome anyone who wants to add to it#this is the first time I consider to be actually writing something#I wrote this all in one sitting just now#it WILL be continued... ideally#I am just busy and would rather post a lot of short blurbs than wait and do one long post#reposting this as its own post and removing the other as a comment on the inspo.#I was planning for this to be crack but I can't just let sleeping dogs lie#man fml my dumb brain always wants an explanation for things and can't accept “just because” which would be wayyyy easier
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just finished topping up my queue from going through the gleeedit tag and omg there are so many glee edits
#we are truly spoiled folks#like I've been slacking on queuing things#and then it turned into 'well I don't want to queue this and then when I go to catch up end up queuing it again'#which like really isn't a problem because it just means the post gets a little extra appreciation#but anyway I was like nah I'll just find some time to go through the tag and queue everything at once to get caught up#BAD IDEA there are so many damn posts omg#like I LOVE that don't get me wrong#just hard to go through everything all at once and appreciate it the way I want to askdflj#mine#personal#glee#ty content creators <3
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Star In My Eyes
Best friend!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader
A Little More Savory tier commission from @porcelainseashore 💜 💜 thank you!! 😭
Word Count: 2658 🫣
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, bf!leon, next door neighbor!leon, pining, lots of feels happening, Leon POV, jealousy, possessiveness, “just friends” 🤭, kissing, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie
proofread ✍️
↺ ◁◁͏͏ ll ▷▷ ⋮≡
Things have settled back into their regular routine. Leon hasn’t brought up that illicit window scene—even if it has lived rent free in his head since—and you definitely haven’t brought it up. He kind of wishes you would; he wants to know if it meant anything or really was just the one-off it seems to be. But, you’re his best friend, the girl next door he’s had in his corner from the beginning. He’d be stupid to mess that up.
Meeting you for lunch isn’t anything new; it’s literally a muscle memory for him to walk over to the campus cafeteria and meet up with you for a bite to eat. Today, he catches you already seated at a table and waves to you. You smile brightly and wave back before pointing at the seat across from you. A warm, fluttery feeling trills in his stomach like a songbird. Queuing in line to grab something from the menu, he can’t help but think that ever since that afternoon, Leon hasn’t been out on any dates.
And he’s not upset about it either. You’ve been spending your free time with him too—talking about buying a new controller interface to produce better mixes for your beats. It all flies over his head, but you light up like the Fourth of July when chatting about it, and Leon’s happy enough to bask in that glow.
After paying for his food, he’s so lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t even realize someone has occupied the seat next to you until he’s sitting down across from you.
The guy has the audacity to smile at Leon. “Hey, man.”
“Hey.”
He flicks his eyes from this interloper over to you. You’re not even paying attention to Leon; your body’s angled towards this stranger with a smile on your face.
“Don’t lose my number now,” the guy winks.
Does he think that lame-ass pickup line will work? Leon scoffs mentally, but his eyes cut back to you, and you’re still smiling at that guy. There’s no way you would give that loser the time of day—right?
“Uh huh, I’ll think about it.” You wave him off with a laugh, and the idiot finally leaves.
Leon’s blood pressure skyrockets. That asshole gave you his number, and you took it? You don’t even know this guy; he could be a total douchebag.
“Who was that?” He pins you in place with his stare.
You shrug, like Leon’s not losing his mind right now.
“Some guy. I think we have a class together,” you pause before shaking your head. “Either way, he wanted to see if I was free this weekend.”
“For what?”
You laugh, “What do you think? He asked me out on a date.”
Leon’s stomach clenches uncomfortably. “And?”
“And I told him I had plans.” Your brows raise in concern. “Are you okay? I told you yesterday that I had to run some errands for my dad on Saturday, and we’re hanging on Sunday.”
He forces his shoulders to relax. “Yeah, I just thought—never mind. You coming over today?”
You smile, confusion hovering over your features. “Of course. You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Things were not fine. He enjoys the rest of lunch with you, talking about classes and upcoming assignments, but in the back of his mind, he can’t stop thinking about how casually that guy hit on you. How you just sat there, smiling, instead of telling him to piss off. Leon’s literally sitting right in front of you—your best friend—so there’s no need for some loser to come barging in.
After splitting up for different classes, Leon’s thoughts run in a constant loop. He gets why that guy hit on you; the why isn’t the issue. He just hates that you even entertained that Neanderthal. How many times have you complained to him about a terrible date? Countless times. Leon can’t even remember all the horrible details of each one—only that once it’s all said and done, you come to him for comfort.
And after all, why not? He’s your shoulder to cry on, the one person who’s been by you through thick and thin. Which, of course, goes both ways, but he can’t help but feel protective of you. You’re too sweet and trusting; a prime example being that dickweed at lunch. Leon is so in his thoughts that he doesn’t even take notes for any of his lectures, just sitting in his seat for each one and thinking about you.
How often does that kind of thing happen? Especially when he’s not even around. How many guys have hit on you, and you’ve never thought to even mention it to him? Glaring at random guys he sees around campus, Leon stews in his emotions—possessive jealousy and frustration coursing through him and sending his thoughts on a downward spiral.
By the time Leon leaves campus, he’s decided on a new course of action. He’s really going to show you he’s the only one for you. Running through ideas on the drive home, he thinks back on all the things he’s done that had you acting overly affectionate toward him. It’s guaranteed to happen when he helps you out with something—like the last time he changed the oil in your car without asking him to or fixing your old radio.
Not seeing your car parked out by your house, Leon decides to just hang around the garage, maybe tinker with some little projects he’s got on the side. You brought over a busted speaker the other day, and since he has the free time, he might as well work on it. Plus, it’ll help with his plans as well as take his mind off of things.
Losing track of time, he doesn’t lift his head away from his workbench until you’re clearing your throat behind him.
“Whatcha working on?”
He stands and stretches, rubbing his neck to work a kink out. “Think your speaker is almost fixed up. Wanna solder a few things before testing it.”
“Oh nice! Thanks, Leon!” You smile, peering around him to look at the mess on the tabletop. “That saves me so much money, you don’t even know. You’re the best.”
Pride suffuses his chest, your praise lighting up his brain.
“Eh, just glad to help.”
Leon watches you walk over to the couch and relax onto the cushions. After stretching a bit more, he walks over and rolls the garage door shut before joining you. He sinks down into the soft material, legs splayed out in front of him. Drumming his fingers on his thighs, his eyes shooting over to the pack of smokes on his workbench.
“You should cut back,” you tease, kicking your shoes off and tucking your feet under his thigh.
“I don’t even smoke that much.” He rolls his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips. “Besides, you’re not my boss.”
“You’re right. I’d fire you for insubordination.” You tease, and he shakes his head with a chuckle.
Lapsing into silence, Leon’s thoughts circle back to earlier at lunch. It can’t hurt anything to feel you out, see what you really think about that guy.
“You gonna call that dude who gave you his number?” His fingertips tap a nonsensical beat on the top of your foot.
You wiggle your toes against his thigh. “Eh, I don’t think so. Honestly, it’s been so long since I’ve even been on a date I’ve probably forgotten how,” you laugh.
Leon doesn’t know what possesses him, but he blurts out the first thought that crosses his mind.
“We could practice.”
He doesn’t know why he says it; it was just a word vomit moment. There’s no way—
“S-sure,” you look away shyly. “Just a friend helping a friend, right?”
He nods so fast his fringe moves with the motion. “Right! Nothing weird about wanting to help out a friend. And we’re best friends, so it only makes sense for me to help you.”
You finally look back over at him, plush bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Leon wants to sink his own teeth into that lip.
“Okay. Um, so where do we start?” You straighten up in your seat and smooth your hands down your shirt.
“Well, what’s making you nervous?” His own heart races in anticipation.
“Well, if things lead to more, I’m not sure what I’d do,” you pull your feet away to move closer to him.
“Yeah?” Arousal pools hot and fast in his gut. “Want me to take the lead?”
“Please,” you murmur, eyes drifting to his lips. Your hand reaches up to brush his fringe from his eyes.
“It’s just helping out a friend.” The words are quiet, like you’re trying to convince yourself. Leon, not wanting to lose this chance, rubs his palms down your sides.
“Of course.” He nods, helping you straddle his lap, brain buzzing with so many thoughts it’s all noise. “It’s just practice.”
“Uh-huh,” your eyes droop, sinking your weight against him, hands resting on his chest. “Just pretend.”
“Okay,” he murmurs, bringing one hand up to cup the back of your neck.
He pulls you down as he tilts his head, slotting your mouths together like puzzle pieces. His cock stiffens in his jeans when you gasp and melt against his body. Your kisses are soft and hesitant—your mouth parting immediately when Leon swipes his tongue across the seam of your lips.
It’s easy to get lost in this slow, sensual makeout. Leon’s hands grip onto your hips, thumbs pressing right into your hip bones. Your fingers are tangled in his hair, making his cock twitch every time your nails scratch against his scalp. He’s so lucky that you trust him with something like this—that you’re willing to be this vulnerable with him.
His feelings are all over the place, but the one thing that definitely stands out is the bone-deep satisfaction in knowing you're all his, at least for now. You rock your hips down against his bulge, and he groans against your mouth.
“It’s been a while since I’ve done anything like this.” You pull away, lips kiss swollen and dilated gaze locked onto his.
His fingers encircle your wrists where your hands rest on his chest, keeping his eyes on yours. “Oh?”
“Mm hmm,” you offer him a fond smile, his favorite kind; it reaches your eyes and makes them soft.
He drops kisses to your jaw, the apples of your cheeks, then your parted lips. A surge of want so heady it makes him dizzy has him kissing you deeply.
So that’s how one thing leads to another—hot, sloppy kisses to dirtily grinding your damp, panty-clad cunt against the bulge in his briefs—and now you’re both naked, with Leon pressing you down into the couch cushions while he drags his cock across your sensitive clit.
“We’re best friends, right?” He murmurs, taking your hands in his and pressing them above your head.
You nod, eyes glassy. “Of course, Leon. Best friends.”
He rubs his thumb over the pulse point in your wrist before reaching one hand down to grip the base of his dick. Slapping his cock down onto your wet cunt, he notches the tip at your drippy hole. His heartbeat’s in his throat.
“This okay?”
Whining, you cant your hips toward him. “Yes, please, wanna feel you.”
Groaning from deep in his chest, Leon rocks forward, sinking inch by inch into your snug cunt. He hopes to god he can hold out. You feel way too good. His eyes slip shut, and he pants heavily, one hand gripping your hip while the other still grips your wrists.
“Fucking hell,” he grunts, finally opening his eyes to stare down at you. “Such a tight cunt.”
He watches your lashes flutter as your pussy grips his cock like a vice. He groans, pulling out to fuck back in just as deep. Letting go of your wrists, he slides his other hand down across your body, groping your breasts before gripping your hip.
“God, you showing me these gorgeous tits the other night—can’t stop thinkin’ about ‘em,” he dips his head down and bites at your stiff peaks, tongue swiping across each hard nipple. “Teasing me in the window like that? Got me so hard.”
Your cunt squeezes down on his cock, and he groans.
“Leon,” your hands move to grab onto his broad shoulders, making his muscles flex under your hands. “Fuck, your mouth feels so good.”
“Yeah?” He grunts, pulling out halfway before rutting his cock back inside your snug pussy, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips.
“Your soft wet pussy feels good, too,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. “Your pretty perfect pussy, and it’s all mine.”
“All yours,” you whine, hole pulsing and sucking his cock in further.
You gasp out, lips brushing against his, “Have you ever felt this good with anyone else?”
“No, never. You’re so good, so good for me,” he pants, mouthing and biting at your breasts.
He raises up, grabbing for your hands until he can lace your fingers together, pressing your clasped hands down against the couch cushions. Now, Leon’s face to face with you, watching the pleasure twist your features erotically.
“You drive me crazy,” he tells you, voice gentle even as his hips thrust roughly against yours. “Just wanna keep you all to myself.”
“Leon,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I feel the same way.”
He presses your lips together, licking into your mouth with a moan. He can’t get enough of the way you taste, sucking on your tongue greedily. Thrusting faster, his cock pounds into your sopping wet cunt harder and harder—the sound of skin slapping together sounding loud in the garage. Letting go of your hand, he slips his fingers between your bodies and begins strumming against your puffy clit.
It’s like a live wire runs through your body, muscles tightening and twitching while your pussy walls flutter around his cock.
“Gonna cum,” you whimper against his lips, and he kisses you heatedly, swallowing your moans and whines to keep stowed away for when he’s alone in the dark of the night.
“Do it,” he murmurs, pulling back until he can lock eyes with you. “Cum for me, show me how good you feel, baby.”
Whining, your head arches back, legs clamping down around his waist as you cry out softly. Leon can feel the difference; your pussy milking his cock with your inner muscles until he’s groaning and burying himself balls deep. Belatedly he realizes he’s cumming inside you raw, a hot spike of arousal driving him to rut deeper into your cunt, hot ropes of cum spurting thick and sticky inside your hole.
Giving you a few minutes until your legs drop away from his body, Leon eases out of your pussy, eyes glued to your puffy cunt as you leak his cum onto the ugly green cushions. You stretch and raise up with a moan, reaching for your clothes strewn in the back of the couch.
Dressing quietly, Leon’s unsure what to do or say next. A line was crossed, whether or not either of you admits it out loud, and he only hopes you’re both crossing over into the same direction.
“Shit!”
Leon’s pulled from his musings at your urgent tone.
“I told mom I’d stop by the store on my way home and totally forgot. Fuck,” you mutter under your breath.
Tossing on your jacket, you stand up, patting your pockets until you find your keys.
“Talk later, okay?” You drop a quick kiss onto Leon’s lips before walking over to the garage door and rolling it open enough to slip under.
You shoot him a smile and a little wink before letting the door drop closed. Leon sits there dumbfounded, brain oddly quiet as he processes what just happened. Maybe you’re both more on the same page than he thought.
#kofi commission#commissions#fic request#ko fi#leon s kennedy#leon s kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x you#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#best friend!leon s kennedy x fem!reader#best friend!leon kennedy#next door neighbor!leon s kennedy x fem!reader#next door neighbor!leon kennedy#fem!reader
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