#Safe and cared for and looked after and loved | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thedanishcatgirl · 2 days ago

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The idea that their timid, little, shy, book loving, wizard had a wife was weird enough, but that wasn't the most surprising part. No, that was the fact, that the massive woman stepping through the selfmade entrance, whom presumably must be the aforementioned wife, was a tall fearsome looking fey. Her antlers where sharp, her body looked to be made of blackened branches covered in deadly looking thorns and her furious eyes glowed a fiery red like her hair.

Through the ringing in his ear the bard could faintly hear their wizard calling out to her wife.

"Careful darling we don't want the cage to fall down into the acid!"

The fay woman's only answer was a terrifying growl, but there was no more explosions. Not like that was needed anyway, since the floor was torn up, and massive thorny vines where rapidly growing out from the floor choking any still alive. She quickly walked over to them, took a hold of their cage, and swiftly yanked it free from the chain, then stomped out of the castle with their cage dangling from her hand. As they where carried away he saw the castle was quickly being overgrown with the vines, and he knew for certain that soon all that would be left was a crumbling ruin. This was gonna make one epic song.

Too terrified to speak he decided to shift his focus onto his party. Their wizard was looking concered up at her wife. Their sorcerer had passed out from either his injuries, or their terrifying rescurer. Their rouge was looking a bit too impressed, but then again, she was always addicted to danger. And their ever confident paladin, looked to be locked in a state of shock. He tried to get her to snap out of it, but she was completely unresponsive, so he tried his best to hum a little tune and heal their sorcerer. It wasn’t much, he was afterall not their main healer and not on his a game, but it was enough to get their sorcerer up. He was groggy and clearly still rough, but as soon as he noticed their surroundings, and who held their cage he panicked. Luckily he was out of spells, which rendered him pretty harmless, and a quick calm emotions stopped the worst of it.

"What is happening, where are we and who is THAT?!"

"Calm down she rescued us. Remember wizard said she messaged her wife to come save us? Well here she is I think she decided easiest way to get us all to a safer place was keeping us in the cage."

But their sorcerer just looked confused at him. Perhaps he hadn't fully registered the conversation before, which was certainly a possibility considering he was very hurt. That would mean he had no idea the woman who attacked the castle, and now held their cage was an ally, making this terrifying experience all the more scary. Worst of all their sorcerer was practically a teenager, and the easiest scared of their group, and this had been bad enough to leave their fearless paladin shocked. So he did what he had done so many nights and comforted their sorcerer.

"Shh it's all right we are safe she won't hurt us"

"It doesn't make sense, this isn't right, what are you talking about, wizard can't be married to an archfey, why would someone so powerful care about small insignificant mortals"

Archfey? Fuck he knew she was clearly powerful, but he hadn't realised just how much. But at soon as sorcerer said it, he knew it was true. Maybe paladin knew and at that was why she was so terrified. He didn't know much about archfey other than legends and songs, and those where always about how dangerous and fickle they where. How in all the hells did wizard get to call one her wife?

After a little bit they entered an ancient looking forest, and finally their wizard decided to speak.

"Sweetie, don't you think it's about time you put us down? We are in our forest now, nothing can hurt us here. We would all really love to get out of this stupid cage, and I definitely owe my friends some explanations. They can't really appreciate the beauty of our home like this, and I would hate their first impressions of it being bad."

Gently she sets the cage down, and shrinks to a still tall, but slightly more manageable, size.

"HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I WARNED YOU NOT TO GET OVER YOUR HEAD! You know I love you and support your little adventuring hobby, but you are so fragile, and I wish I could follow you, but my duties prevent that which means I can't protect you, and I hate that!"

Slowly their wizard limped over to her wife, seemingly not concerned at all about the thorns. Unfortunately that exposed just how badly injured she was, which her wife clearly only noticed now.

"HOW DARE THEY HURT YOU LIKE THAT! They did not deserve to die so mercifully!" It was followed by more curses in a language he didn't understand, but the intent was clear as day. The party was too preoccupied with trying not to think about what she considered doing, if that, was merciful in her eyes. It didn't matter what they had done to them, he was pretty sure those screams would haunt all their dreams, as long as they lived.

The wizard didn't look to be the least bit fazed, instead she gently caressed her furious wife, deftly avoiding the thorns.

"Shh it's all right darling, I'm safe now." She said followed by more reassurances, in what he suspected was the same language her wife had cursed in.

As the woman calmed down, they saw her body literally transform along with her mood. Slowly the fire in her hair diminished until it looked more like branches, her eyes changed into a piercing green, her wooden body became brown, the thorns receded and now she was just slightly taller than them. But while it was clear she was calmer now, that fire seemed to be just under the surface, like a forest that had just been ravaged by fire, and only needed a little spark to send it ablaze again.

"Why didn't you message me sooner?" She almost pleaded.

"I'm sorry, I thought we could escape on our own, and didn't want to worry you unless absolutely necessary." He can't help but notice the tears in her eyes. "Also kinda hoped that when I did introduce them to you, it would be a bit less terrifying." She adds with a tiny sliver of humour in her voice.

"Hmm I forgive you my foolish little flower." She says, as she touches her forehead to their wizard's. Apprapo flowers, he noticed that her hair has sprouted leaves and even a few flowers, and her body was being covered by moss and lichen. Hopefully that meant her mood has approved significantly.

Looking at their party he concluded that their sorcerer was hiding behind their rouge, who was trying their best to make him feel protected, and their paladin was still completely out of it, which it seemed their wizard had finally registered, but then again it was probably fair, that she had been to preoccupied with her wife.

"Darling do you think you could help her?" She asked to which her wife responded by gently touching her finger to their paladin and casting, what he recognised as a much stronger calm emotions than his. She wisely took a few steps back letting wizard stand in front as paladin slowly became more aware of her surroundings.

"Hey look at me we are safe now, there is nothing to worry about. There is no danger anymore I promise you."

"But but, that's, they they, danger I can't, I can't protect, I'm, I'm not even, He, you don't"

It was clear that while she was definitely calmer now, she was still very scared, which surprised him, because with the power of an archfey, she could easily have completely overpowered her fear. But perhaps she wasn't gonna just completely charm her wife's friend, which surely was a good sign.

"Shh shh it's alright, I know you're scared, I know you're all scared and we understand that. What just happened was very scary, and I know the reputation archfey have, but please just trust me when I say, that none of us are in any danger."

"You just say that because she has charmed you!" Sorcerer bravely answers.

"I don't think so," you counter. "Why not just charm all of us, or at least charm paladin, which she clearly didn't, since she is still scared. Why be so concerned with wizards safety, and so quick to forgive? I must admit I have no clue how in the hells it happened, but they clearly love each other very much, and she has been nothing but helpful, so I believe wizard when she says we are safe."

At that wizard smiles, clearly pleased she managed to convince someone.

"Maybe we could at least give them a chance. It's not like we have any way of escaping if she is messing with us," rouge tentatively says.

Sorcerer doesn't say anything, but at least he wasn't complaining or actively freaking out, witch admittedly was a pretty low bar, but considering the day they have had, was gonna have to be good enough.

Paladin looked to be very unsure, but maybe it was the calm emotions, maybe her desire to believe her friend, or maybe she was just too exhausted to do anything but listen.

"Well this is my wife Sevanonna. We have been together for almost 20 years, and I love her with all my heart, but despite all my books and her amazing company, I started to go a little stir crazy a while ago, and really missed adventuring, so after a lot of convincing and safety measures, like this ring I used to communicate with her, I left our home and soon found you guys." As soon as she stopped her nervous rant, her wife took over.

"Like you mortals say, if you love someone you let it go, and if they love you they will come back. Not that I ever worried that was the reason she wouldn't return."

"How in the hells did a shy timid little bookworm like you, snag someone so fiercely powerful?" asked rouge, voicing the question he had been too scared to ask.

"Oh she stumbled into my domain on accident in her ever growing search for knowledge, and she was just so sweet and kind and adorable, I couldn't find it within myself to punish her. I was curious and lonely, so we made a very simple deal. I would help her with gaining knowledge, if she would keep me company. As fun as messing with mortals can be, it doesn't keep me entertained for very long, and I don't particularly care for the company of my fellow archfey. We couldn't help but fall for each other, and by now that deal has been null and void for a very long time."

As she spoke, she looked at their wizard with such strong fondness it was impossible not to believe, and he already knew once he had pressed wizard for some more details, he was gonna create the most beautiful love ballad the world had ever seen out of this.

It seemed sorcerer and paladin had decided to very tentatively trust their story as well, or maybe just given up. Afterall they knew rouge was right. They didn't really have a choice.

"Well then show us to your home then. I'm dying to see what kind of fantastical place you live in, if this forest is anything to go by!" He decided to say as a way of lightning their spirits. Rouge ended up carrying sorcerer, who was too weak to do anything but curl up in her, thankfully deceptively strong, arms. And he supported paladin as they walked, to the best of his abilities. Sevanonna seemed to understand, that although she could definitely simply carry them all, it was better to not intervene.

Later that night, or perhaps it was technically the next day, he wasn't sure and didn't really care, he found himself alone with paladin. For while he wasn't the least bit surprised by sorcerer and rouge, palsdin's actions seemed wholly out of character, and he was determined to find out why.

"Hey you all right there?" Paladin turned to look at him with a panicked look for half a second, until it seemed like she remembered who he was. She must have been lost in her mind again.

"I'm, I'm fine." She said with a hint of her usual confidence, although it was clear she definitely wasn't.

"I know you are usually the one who does this, but if you wanna talk about it, I promise to lend an ear and not tell anyone." She looked like she was considering it. "Everyone needs someone to lean on, once in a while. You don't have to be our strong confident leader all the time. I'm pretty sure you would say something like that, if you where me." That last part at least managed to produce a tiny snort.

"I... my mother she, she made a deal with an archfey a long time ago. But she was tricked and understemated the price. She ... it took my youngest sister and when she tried to stop that she," at this point paladin broke down sobbing. He tried his best not to loose it at the sound that felt so wrong coming from her, and decided to rub circles on her back like she usually did. When that didn't help, he decided to stop being her and just do what he was best at, which was performing. So he summoned his dulcimer and started playing a comforting tune, and trying to do his best to put some sort of bardic magic into it.

"I was about the age of sorcerer, and suddenly I was the oldest in our little family. I had to be the responsible one, I had to protect us. That is why I devoted myself to my god, to make sure no chaotic or evil forces would ever mess with those I loved ever again. But not even the gods could stop them from deciding to start their own lives, once they got older. They moved on, and I didn't really fit into their lives anymore. I tried to devote myself even more, and create my own life too. And when I found you it felt like I had a family I could protect again. But I failed." And with that she collapsed and starting sobbing even harder than before. What she said made sense. She definitely was the mother of their group, not just because of her age, and a fiercely protective one at that. That was clearly something she had in common with their wizard's wife. And with that kind of tragic backstory, who could blame her. He could also see why she must have panicked like that when a threatening archfey suddenly appeared, and why she felt like she had failed in protecting them. She couldn't risk trusting that this wasn't some elaborate trick. He probably couldn't do anything about that, but he couldn't let her believe they saw her as a failure.

"No. You have not failed us. We are all still together, surely that counts for something? I can promise you if it wasn't for you, we would have all destroyed each other, or at the very least left. You have always been our glue, whether it was settling differences, or patching us up. You protected us all during that fight, and is the only reason sorcerer isn't dead now. But we are all adults here, or mostly, and you don't have to protect us all the time. Let us protect you too. We are a team, and that means we all have each other's backs. We are all here, we are safe, or at the very least not in active danger, we can rest and recover now, and afterwards we can talk about ensuring it doesn't get so bad again. But we are all alive, and if you hadn't been here, things would have gone so much worse, so cut yourself some slack alright?

"Hmm" was all he got from her before she fell asleep. It was good that she had relaxed enough to get some rest, he just had to hope she had heard his words, and taken them to heart.

An adventuring party is in a cage suspended over acid the wizard clears his throat "I just sent a message to my wife she should be here to save us soon." "Wait your married?" Said the rouge "more importantly what is she gonna." The paladin is interrupted by a massive explosion.

#This got long #Probably would be smoother with names but I liked the idea of referring them by class #Also figuring out names suck #my writing #writing prompt #creative writing #dnd

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sitepathos · 1 day ago

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From Gold to Mold

Chapter 12: The Fight (Warning: this chapter will feature blood and violence. Proceed at your own risk)

“Look at all this,” you whisper as you take in the sights of the Strip, all the various casinos and hotels lighting up the night sky. “I returned to Nevada four years ago and I’ve never been here before. What the hell was I thinking?”

(You were trying to set up your new life, which was the responsible thing to do back then. But, we agree, coming here sooner would not have been unwelcome. This city seems to be a source of endless entertainment.)

You had finished the DLC for Salvage Rights earlier today and to celebrate both its release and its positive reception, you decided to treat yourself by going to Sin City and indulging in its various casinos and restaurants; you have the knowledge and experience of countless gamblers from Gotham, so you should be able to play blackjack and poker with the best of them.

You thought you were prepared to handle and glitz and glamor Vegas has to offer, but seeing it with your own eyes has left you speechless. The lights have you mesmerized and you’re loving it! Everywhere you look, there’s something beckoning you, like a moth to a flame and right now, you don’t care if you get burned.

“Hey, look over there,” you say, stopping to look at something above you in the distance.

The sight is a towering building proudly bearing the name “Caesar’s Palace” in lights. During your brief research for your trip to the Strip, you read Caesar’s Palace is one of the most popular casinos in the city and is also a popular destination for dining.

(You did say you wanted the “full Vegas experience.” Going to one of the largest establishments in the city would be a step in the right direction.)

When you first thought of this little excursion, you wanted to have fun, but didn’t want to get trapped in the larger ones and lose all the money you brought in with you, instead opting to stay in the smaller casinos. “Keep it simple, keep it safe,” you said a few hours ago.

Now, the lights of the massive casino before you has ensnared you and is luring you towards it like an angler fish does with its prey.

“Ave, true to Caesar,” you say as you begin the trek towards the towering monolith.

If the outside was mesmerizing, then the inside is absolutely enthralling! As expected of a place named after a Greek emperor, the interior looks like a palace plucked from the Greek Empire, complete with marble and gold, making you feel like royalty.

(We take it we are going to play here?)

“Damn right,” you say as you enter the casino part of the resort, taking in the seemingly endless rows to slot machines, card tables, and other various gambling set ups.

As you look at each slot machine and table, you’re flooded with information from the Megamycete’s archives on what you want to see when playing slot machines and when is the best time to stand when playing blackjack. While Gotham doesn’t have shit on Vegas, it did have a passable gambling scene, which attracted many expert gamblers to that City of the Damned.

With your newfound knowledge in hand, you exchange the thousand bucks you brought with you for chips and make your way to a roulette table with only one other person.

“Good evening, sir,” the dealer greets you as you situate yourself of the other side of the table, away from the other player. “Will you be joining us?”

“Deal me in,” you respond, pushing a few chips on the table to test the waters. You may know the basics from playing Fallout New Vegas, but this is real life with real money being risked and this time you don’t have a maxed out Luck stat to cheat the system with.

A few hands in and you can say for sure you love gambling. Sure, you’ve lost a few rounds, ruining a couple hot streaks, but right now, you have more money than you came in with.

“Fifteen, odd, black,” the dealer says when the ball finally stops spinning before giving you the pot, much to your delight.

“Goddamn it,” the other man exclaims, shoving himself away from the table and storming off, hopefully towards the exit as tonight has not been his night.

“I apologize for that display,” the deal says as he readies the spinner for the next round. “Will you be playing another round?”

“Definitely,” you respond, sliding three-hundred dollars worth of chips onto red.

“Have room for one more,” a masculine voice rings out next to you.

You tense up when the voice registers in your head and you look to your right to see Bruce fucking Wayne, looking down at you with that fake ass smile he gives the idiots of Gotham. Your anger only intensifies when he places a thousand dollars worth of chips into the pot.

What the hell is he doing here?

(How dare he,) the Megamycete practically growls. (This is a night meant for you to enjoy yourself and he intrudes upon it, and in your city no less.)

“Welcome, Mr. Wayne,” the dealer says as he spins the spinner after the bastard places his bet.

“Hello, Y/N,” he says to you, his focus on you and not the spinner. “I have to say, I don’t peg you as the gambling type.”

You say nothing, not wanting to give him any sort of satisfaction, and focus on the game.

“It’s a very dangerous habit if you’re not careful,” he chides you as the baller begins to slow down. “And coming to a place like Vegas? It’s not safe for someone like you. You should be back home, where you belong.”

You know the “home” he’s referring to isn’t your house in Goodsprings, but Wayne Manor in Gotham and it’s taking all your willpower not to pimp smack the shit out of him right now. This was meant to be a night for you to have fun in Vegas and you’re not gonna let him ruin that like he did the night you won your award.

“Gotham has plenty of high-end casinos where you can play all the games you want. I could take you to each of them and make sure you get the VIP treatment.”

“Vegas is far safer than Gotham,” you retort. “Here, the biggest threat you face is losing your money when you don’t know when to quit. In Gotham, you have nut jobs running around killing people on a nightly basis and the biggest nut job of them all beating the crap out of them.” You give him a mocking look, knowing something that would get under his skin. “No one in their right mind would live in that cesspit of a city. If you ask me, that place should be nuked to hell.”

While he manages to hide it well, you can see just the faintest of winces and you let your smirk show. For whatever reason, he thinks Gotham is the best place on the planet and is worth protecting. You learned about Gotham’s seedy history from its early days as a colony established in 1635 and you can say for certain that area is cursed. If you had your way, a giant wall would be built around Gotham and everyone inside would be left to kill each other and rot in that cursed city, especially the Waynes.

“Gotham has its flaws, sure,” he responds. “But I’m able to look past its dark side and see a bright future for both the city and everyone that calls it home. As you know, Wayne Enterprises has been the vanguard of breathing new life into the city.”

“Oh, that reminds me, I heard WE’s stock has practically become worthless in the last few days. Rumor has it all major stockholders are demanding for you to step down as CEO.”

“I’ve been in tight spots before and I’ve always come out on top. This will be no different. I’m sure things will turn back around in no time.”

“Six, even, black,” the dealer announces, bringing you back to the game. “Congratulations, Mister Wayne.”

You roll your eyes as the pot goes to the son of a bitch. You mentally shake your head and place your chips on the table for the next round.

“Maybe you should step down,” you say as the dealer begins the round. “I was stuck in that manor of yours for over a decade and I know it’s a mess. You should really get your house in order before you go around ‘fixing’ Gotham.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my family,” he growls. “It’s perfect the way it is.”

“No one’s buying that story anymore, Mister Wayne. I take it you haven’t read Lois Lane’s latest article?”

“Of course I have,” he says, glaring at you and it makes you want to laugh knowing how you’re testing his limits. “How could you say those things about your family?”

“You’re not my family,” you snap. “You all made it quite clear I wasn’t a part of it over and over. The only family I’ve ever had was Momma and she was taken from me.”

The anger in his eyes fade and he was silent for a moment. “I know we made mistakes during your time with us and we’re sorry about that.”

“It’s too little, too late, Mister Wayne.”

“Twenty-four, even, black,” the dealer states, clearly more interested in your conversation than the game.

You can’t help but smile as the chips make their way back to you and you place a bet of five-hundred for the next round. Of course, Bruce doesn’t go way and instead places another bet.

“Please, Y/N, come home,” he pleads as the spinner is spun. “We all miss you. Especially Alfred.”

“He’s welcome to visit me whenever he wants. The rest of you can go to hell.”

“Like it or not, they’re your siblings, Y/N,” he growls, getting closer to you. “And I’m your father. You will show them, and me, the respect that entails.”

“Respect is earned, not given,” you retort, getting close and looking up at him. He may terrify Gotham’s criminally insane, but you know you’re better than him in every way, so you’re not scared. “And don’t get it mixed up, you’re a sperm donor, not my father. God knows you never acted like it.” You lean close so that your face is mere inches away from his. “If you want, we can take this outside, Mister Wayne. Just remember what happened last time things got physical between us.”

“Now, now, gentlemen,” the dealer says. “Let’s keep this friendly. We’re all here to have fun, right?”

(Listen to him, Y/N. Do not let him ruin your first trip to Vegas. There will be plenty of time to put him in his place after we have had our fun.)

You continue to stare at him and direct all your anger and hatred towards him until he finally concedes and backs off and you do the same, just in time for the ball to finally stop.

“Nineteen, odd, red,” the dealer says as he slides the chips to you.

“I just want to make things right,” he says as he places his bet. “I know I treated you wrong and I want to fix that. So we can be father and son.”

You roll your eyes at the pathetic words and even more pathetic look as you place your bet and the deal begins the round. “You’re not sorry, Mister Wayne, you just feel guilty. Whatever conscious you have in your twisted little soul is making you feel bad and you can’t stand it, so that’s why you’re humiliating yourself trying to earn something I can never and will never give you: my forgiveness.”

He winces enough for both you and the dealer to see, but you find yourself taking no joy in fracturing his mask. This was supposed to be a night of fun and games, but he had to come all the way from Gotham and ruin it. It’s actually made you despise him even more, a task you thought impossible until now.

“Twelve, even, red,” the dealer states as he slides the chips towards Bruce.

It’s then you notice that you and him have almost the same amount of chips and the sight of it ignites an inferno of competition, which fuels your desire to assert your superiority over this pathetic creature before you.

(We are with you,) the Megamycete states firmly. (Show this interloper his place!)

“Tell me what you want, Y/N,” he says as you place all your chips on red, your mother’s favorite color, glaring at him as you do. It’s then he does the same thing, but places his chips on black, the color of the Bat.

How predictable.

With both your bets placed, the dealer spins the roulette, signaling the final round between you two. When that little ball stops spinning, one of you will take all and the other will lose all.

“Please, there must be something I can give you to show you I’m sincere. And you of all people should price is no object for me. Just name it and it’s yours.”

(How pathetic! He thinks all those years of abuse and neglect can be erased by buying you some insignificant trinket? Does he think you some whore that can be bought? Show him how wrong he is, Y/N!)

“You want to know what I want, Mister Wayne,” you ask, malice dripping with your every word, as the ball begins to slow down and clatter around. “I want you to know that I hate you more than anything else on this world; I want it to rattle around in your head for the rest of your life, from when you’re around your collection of misfits to when you lay your head down at night, that there’s no word or phrase in any language that has ever existed or ever will exist on this planet that can fully express how much animosity and hatred I have for you.”

It’s then that you get in his personal space has he had done with you earlier and use the mold so you can stretch your body ever so slightly so your face is almost touching him and stare into those eyes you’ve come to despise so much and they stare back at you, full of hurt and shock.

In the background, you can hear the ball beginning to slow down, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the game. Right now, all that matters is conveying just how much you hate Bruce Wayne.

“I want you to grow old and die knowing that, in the end, I was the one that rejected you.”

His response? Nothing but the widening of his eyes and stepping back, as if you had struck him.

“Seven, odd, red,” the dealer says, obviously shocked at what you just said.

You say nothing as you gather your chips and walk away, leaving Bruce Wayne behind to reflect on your words.

As you walk, you notice your heart is beating enough to burst out for your chest and your face is molten hot, even without touching it. In the moment, you had no idea how your words affected you as much as they apparently did that bastard.

(Perhaps we should return home,) the Megamycete suggests. (The night has been ruined and you need to rest after that interaction. We can always return another night for entertainment.)

As much as you hate to admit it, it’s right; after that display, you’re not in the mood to see what else you can get up to in your first night in Vegas. Being around him has brought back much of the anger you thought you had finally buried after moving back to Goodsprings and getting your life together and it’s killed any desire for gambling, dining, and everything in between.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice sounding weak even to you. “Let’s go home.”

You quickly cash in your chips and pocket the check the cashier gives you before making your way towards the exit. From there, you walk around until you find an alleyway tucked into an isolated and desolate part of the city to sprout mold armor and wings before taking off into the night sky.

“You know, the city looks even more breathtaking from up here,” you remark as you enter the vast expanse of the Mojave.

(Indeed. Maybe when we return, we will earn enough money from playing games that we can stay in the highest level of the tallest hotel of the city and see it again.)

“Yeah,” you respond with a throaty chuckle. “That’d be nice.”

You look down at the desert beneath you when you feel something hit your wings, slicing through and severing them, leaving you to fall to the ground. You shout as you harden your armor just in time as you impact with the sand, creating a deep crater.

(Are you alright,) it asks as you climb your way out.

“Yeah,” you respond with a groan. “What the hell happened?”

You get your answer once you make your way to the top and see Bruce, donned in his Batman gear, looking down at you.

“Are you alright,” he asks, as if he wasn’t the cause of the incident.

You dismiss your mold helm and look at him square in his eye slits, taking a deep breath and exhaling before saying, ever so calmly, “I’m going to kill you now.”

And with your intentions declared, you summon a new pair of wings and launch yourself towards the bastard and before he can react, you grab him by the face with one hand and propel the both of you backwards, using to wings to fly as you forcibly shove his head into the sand and push him forward, creating a trail in your wake.

His hands fly to yours and attempt to free himself from your grasp, but you don’t give him the chance and throw him towards a nearby rock formation as hard as you can.

He can only flail around like a rag doll as he flies through the air and lands on the rock formation with a satisfying crash, sending debris and sand flying in all directions.

Unfortunately, it’s not enough to keep him down as he’s quickly back on his feet. He reaches into his utility belt and throws a batarang at you and you respond by creating a similar object out of mold and send it flying towards it, the two of them hitting each other and falling to the ground.

Of course, he’s quick to act and before you can see it, he’s thrown something at you and you’re trapped in some kind of cable.

“What the hell,” you exclaim as you try to break free of the wire, but find yourself unable to.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he says as he closes the gap between the two of you. “But you’re coming home and I’m gonna find a way to get rid of this thing inside you.”

You’re already pissed, but the way he says something so batshit crazy with a tone similar to one that you’d use to calm a startled animal enrages you even more.

How he can still be so determined to drag you back to Gotham when you’ve made it abundantly clear that you hate him and his family after everything they’ve done to you is nothing short of astounding.

(He seeks to separate us,) the Megamycete practically hisses. (Do not let him! Kill him, Y/N! Kill him!)

Your rage towards the man before you explodes like a blast furnace and you reduce your body to a murder of crows and fly towards Bruce at top speed.

He raises his arms to protect his face and you use your mold hardened beaks and talons to slice into his suit, leaving at least two dozen bloody cuts all over his body.

(Good! Hurt him even more! Bleed him dry!)

Your murder of crows fly around him, forcing him into a defensive posture, and you gather them all so you can reform into your armored form right behind him. He realizes what’s happened, but he can only turn around to face you when you grab his wrist as hard as you can, and wave him around in the air and slam him into the rock below you over and over, taking pleasure in the sounds of rock breaking with every hit.

It’s then you slam him into the rock and summon a mold sword. When he looks up at you and realizes what’s about to happen, he raises his hand just in time for your sword to go through his hand and the tip of your sword pierce the hardened Bat symbol on his chest; you know the symbol is the strongest part of his suit so it can protect whatever he has beating in his chest, but you’re determined, so it begins to crack and crumble as you drive the sword deeper in.

He tries to say something, but the damage you’ve done to him takes its toll as he can only gurgle something as blood begins to seep from the corner of his mouth.

You dismiss your helm as you lean down towards him, a vicious, bloodthirsty grin etched across your face, and the sword goes down just a little more.

“Let’s get rid of this, shall we,” you mock, grabbing his cowl, ignoring the shock the suit gives you in response. “I want to see the life fade from your eyes!”

And with that declaration, you rip the cowl off him, exposing his face, marred with bloody cuts and bruises, before you.

When you look into his eyes, you can see past the look of struggle is fear and terror.

(He knows this is the end! Finish him! Put an end to the Bat!)

“Goodbye, Mister Wayne!”

Just then, you see something fly past you and it’s then you realize the arm holding your sword has been sliced through. Bruce takes advantage of the situation and kicks you a few feet away from him and he backflips so he can put even more distance between the two of you.

You quickly collect yourself to see the source of the disruption: Dick and Cass, donned in their vigilante gear.

“You ok, B,” Dick asks as Bruce joins them.

“I’m fine,” he grunts out. “What are you doing here?”

“Alfred told us you were coming here and we knew something like this was going to happen. We all wanted to come, but we knew we couldn’t all leave Gotham, so we drew straws.”

The way he sounds so joyful pisses you off even more. How dare he! You were so close to putting an end to him and Dick had to come and ruin it!

(You should rip his limbs off! Strip him of his wings and cast him into the dam!)

Cass looks at you and you instantly know she’s analyzing you, determining possible strengths and weaknesses. When she sees that you’re missing a limb, her eyes widen.

“Oh,” Dick exclaims when he follows her gaze. “I’m so sorry, baby bird! I didn’t mean to do that! I just wanted to get you off of Bruce!”

You look down to find the severed appendage lying near your foot and go to pick it pick it up. While Dick is spouting endless apologies and pleas for you to stay calm, you merely place the limb where it once was and it begins to stitch itself back together. Once your arm is reattached, you fix your gaze back to them to find that they’re starring at you in shock at what just happened.

“Oh,” Dick manages to spit out after a few seconds of silence.

“This is between me and him,” you say as you take a few steps towards them. “Fuck off.”

“You need to stop this, baby bird,” Dick retorts. “We’re family, you shouldn’t be doing this!”

“You’re kidding, right,” you say with a mocking chuckle. “You people are constantly fighting with one another! If you’re not giving each other black eyes, you’re either breaking bones or slitting throats! You’re all a bunch of emotionally constipated psychopaths who belong in padded cells with the rest of Arkham’s lunatics! And I want nothing to do with any of you! So, for the last time, leave me the fuck alone!”

The only answer you get is the three of them getting into combat postures, indicating they’re ready to go on the attack.

“I give you the chance to walk away, and this is the thanks I get,” you sigh.

From the bottom of your feet, you command two mold tendrils to burrow into the sand below and snake their way over to them and once in place, you order them to burst out from beneath them; such a tactic would spell the end for normal people, but the Waynes are anything but normal, so they somehow knew you were up to something and scatter just as the tendrils emerge.

Still, you put them on the defense by ordering the tendrils to lash out at them, separating them from one another and forcing them to put all their focus on the tendrils while Bruce and Dick are dodging the lashing tendrils, you make your way to the nearest vigilante: Cass.

Just as you near her, she turns around and counters the slash of your mold sword with a blade of her own. You quickly realize that the few dozen people that possess any type of sword fighting prowess pale in comparison to Cass’ and decide to swap to hand-to-hand combat by punching her in gut when your blades were clashed together, sending her flying several feet.

She quickly recovers by the time you close the gap and she not only evades most of your punches, but she manages to give you a few.

What the hell, she shouldn’t be winning.

(Her fighting style is more advanced than anything we possess in our archives,) the Megamycete responds, sounding shameful. (We are unable to find a successful counter to her assault.)

Of course, it makes sense now! While Gotham may have attracted a few dozen experts in fighting over the centuries, Bruce has been trained by masters in every form of combat, including Ra’s Al Ghul, whose lifespan makes the Megamycete seem infantile in comparison. And he’s no doubt taught all of them his fighting style.

Just then, you feel something hit your back and explode, sending you flying. When you recover, you see Bruce and Dick have cut your tendrils and are now heading towards Cass to reinforce her.

(Their armories also seem to be more than we can handle,) it says as it repairs the damage done to your armor. (We have hardened your armor as much as we can, but it seems their tools will be able to penetrate our defenses.)

Shit, so that leaves you vulnerable to their fighting styles and their gadgets.

“Alright,” you mutter to yourself as you ready yourself. “We’ll just have to rely on the one thing none of them have ever had: powers.”

You repeat what you had done before and disperse your body into a murder of crows and send them flying around the Bats, causing them to huddle together and raise their arms in an attempt to protect themselves. You have enough crows continue to fly around them to keep them distracted while the rest of them form together to form your body, but with the addition of four, oversized spider-like legs extruding from your back.

You allow yourself to fall to the ground, the legs pointed down to form four very sharp stabbing implements. They look up just in time to see what’s about to happen, so they force their way through the swarm just as you land where they once stood. The remaining crows reintegrate into your body as you make your way towards them, jabbing your spider limbs in an attempt to stab any of them.

Dick and Cass have narrow frames, so they’re harder to hit, but Bruce’s more bulkier body makes him a more feasible target, so you shift your focus to him. After a few failed slashes, you manage to land a decent hit that causes him to fail onto his back. He tries to reach for his utility belt, but you use two of your limbs to pierce his shoulders and he lets out a pained yell s he struggles in vain to free himself from beneath you.

He looks up at you, a painful expression etched on his face, while you summon two small tendrils from your back, ready to deal the final blow.

“If I can’t rip out your non-existent heart, I’ll just have to settle for your head!”

But, just as you’re about to make good on your declaration, you feel something attach itself onto your back, throwing you off balance.

“Y/N, don’t,” a voice says from behind and it’s then you realize it’s not something on your back, but someone.

Specifically, Dick.

“Get off me, circus freak,” you snarl as you begin to struggle with him.

Deeming Dick the bigger threat, you shift your focus from Bruce to shaking off the acrobat any way you can, flailing around and reaching out to grab him so you can finally finish him off; while you want to kill Bruce more than anything right now, you want him to suffer before you shed his blood.

Making him watch as you rip his golden child’s head off while he’s powerless to stop it? Yes, that’ll do the trick.

It’s then you feel something at your spider feet and when you manage to look down while holding Dick at bay to see Cass, batarang in hand, cutting the feet pinning Bruce to the desert floor in an attempt to free him.

(She attempts to free the bastard,) the Megamycete hisses. (Kill her! Kill her now!)

But in typical fashion, Dick butts in where he’s not wanted and hurls himself towards you, latching onto your upper body, forcing you to brace your back spider legs to prevent you from tumbling down.

You watch in pure frustration as Cass slices off the parts of your legs pinning Bruce down and before you can react, the two of them hurl themselves onto you, joining Dick in trying to wrestle you to the ground.

You grab Dick with one hand and Cass with the other and just as you ready to summon a tendril to deal with Bruce and stabs you with some type of syringe, making you howl in pain at the sensation; instead of injecting you with something, you feel your blood being drained from you.

“Enough,” you hiss, hurling the two smaller vigilantes as far as you can before grabbing Bruce by both his shoulders and pulling him up so that the two of you are eye-to-eye.

It’s at this point your rage reaches its apex; this was suppose to be a night of fun out on the Strip, but the man before you not only had to ruin it by showing up, but now he’s come full circle on his batshit craziness by blasting you out of the sky and try to apprehend you like you’re one of the crazies from Arkham.

And to make matters worse, he had to bring two of his children, Dick being one of them! While you will always hate Bruce with every fiber of your being and Damian being an extremely close second, you’ve always had a strong resentment towards the eldest Wayne son. While the bastard will always say he loves all his children equally (minus you, of course), you know Dick will always be number one in Bruce’s heart due to him being the first child and being a capable Gotham socialite and vigilante.

And to add insult to injury, everyone always says Dick is everything an eldest brother should be: reliable, responsible, and doting. For years, you could nothing but cry as you saw him going out of his way to help and hang out with the other Wayne children, no matter how loudly they tried to reject it. Watching such the love and affection you craved be handed out so willingly and carefree to anyone but you made you think you would never be loved by anyone other than your deceased Momma.

You let out an inhuman howl in Bruce’s face as you shove your head into his right shoulder and latch onto it with your teeth with enough force to rival a hydraulic press. He lets out a pained yell and attempts to pull you off by your hair, but you apply more force until you eventually pierce through the armor, followed by the skin, then the muscle, and finally bone.

You pull your head back, bits of bone and flesh dangling from your teeth. You look to see his right arm practically dangling from just the barest of flesh and blood oozing from it like a waterfall. You shift your gaze from your handiwork to Bruce’s face to see the most delicious expression of pain etched on it and his complexion is pale and clammy.

At this point, you’re a crazed animal, chomping at the bit to go in for the kill on the wounded prey before you and rip it apart until it’s unrecognizable.

(Yes,) the Megamycete roars, its voice a symphony of bloodthirsty cheers. (Do it! Exact your vengeance upon him!)

Before you do anything, you feel something hit your back and explode, but unlike the first one, this one sends some sort of freezing gases scattering across your body, sending feelings of burning as your armor and spider legs rapidly freeze.

You howl in pain as you drop Bruce so you can slap at the affected areas, trying to find some way to relieve yourself of the freezing feeling.

(Hurts,) the Megamycete hisses. (Hurts!)

You rid yourself of your armor and spider legs by ripping it off your body, the frozen mold constructs shattering upon impact with the ground.

It’s then you realize you’re exposed and quickly turn around, ready to defend yourself when you see the three of them flying away on the Batwing at top speed. You could go after them, but after the fight with the Bats and their freezing grenade, you can only fall to your knees, trying to catch your breath.

(We had no idea we possessed such a vulnerability to the cold,) the Megamycete says, its voice sounding weak. (The winters of Gotham drove us to a state of near hibernation, but this is the first time we have ever had a reaction like that.)

“And now you know,” you manage to gasp out. “And so do they.”

You can only watch as the vehicle flies away as fast as it can, carrying three of the Bats away where they will no doubt share what’s happened here with the others, which will no doubt lead to even more encounters like this in the future.

“Shit.”

In the Batwing, Bruce knows Dick is talking to hi, his words quick and high pitched as he tries to dress his wound, but right now, he can’t bring himself to take his focus off the syringe filled with your blood.

When he set out for Vegas, he was determined to find a way to provoke you into showing him your powers and obtain a blood sample so he could perform more tests, but he didn’t think he’d discover a major weakness in your defenses.

While he hated to see the cryo grenade caused you so much pain, he can’t help but rejoice at the knowledge that there’s a crack in your armor and if he approaches it at the right angle, he can have you home far sooner than he anticipated.

And when you’re back home, he can find a way to get that damn thing out of you and return you to normal. And when that’s done, he can begin to make things right with you.

He grips the syringe harder, seeing the key to making his daily whole once again within your blood.

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#from gold to mold #yandere batfamily #male reader #batfamily #batfamily x male reader #batman #dc x male reader #yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere dc #yandere barbara gordon #yandere cassandra cain #yandere damian wayne #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere stephanie brown

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meadowfics · 3 days ago

Text

blood on your hands

kang dae ho x f!reader

in which you commit an act so unforgivable, yet reasonable

warnings: murder, death, nsfw!! 18+, minors please dni. smut with plot. oral (dh receiving). switch!daeho. switch!reader. praise. no PinV. VERY long chapter. dark chapter. original plot changes. y/n is used. reader is player 099. reader is the murderer. established relationship with dae-ho before the games. this takes place after the mingle games. the original character in this fic is player 123. I am not responsible for the content you choose to read after you hit, "keep reading"

4.6k words

the bathroom is a mess of bodies and tension.

the air thick with sweat, fear, disgusting body waste, and the sharp buzz of the overhead fluorescent lights. the guards stand at the entrance, their rifles slung carelessly over their shoulders, barely paying attention.

they know no one is dumb enough to try anything here, not after the mingle game.

a game in which you barely survived too.

anyways, you should be focusing on keeping jun-hee safe, making sure she gets in and out of here without trouble, but your mind keeps circling back to dae-ho.

your man.

the love of your life.

the marine’s voice is still fresh in your ears.

"stay safe, no heroics."

all of the women were assigned to all go to the bathroom before lights out. you had smiled at him, something small, something just for him.

"i’ll be okay,"

you had promised, squeezing his hand.

"i'll stay with jun-hee the whole time."

he hadn't liked it. you could tell by the way his jaw clenched, by the flicker of hesitation in his eyes, like he wanted to argue but knew it would only make things harder. he is super protective about you, even before the games back at home.

in the end, he let you go, but not before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering like he was trying to memorize you.

"come back to me."

you had nodded. you always would.

the two of you had been together for years. your relationship wasn’t new, wasn’t fragile. it was something built, something strong, something that had withstood everything life had thrown at you before the games.

this?

this was different.

this was a nightmare neither of you had ever prepared for.

when you first locked eyes after red light, green light, it felt like the world had cracked open. neither of you had known the other would be here.

neither of you had imagined, in your worst nightmares, that this was how you’d meet again after not seeing each other for days.

after meeting the salesman, the both of you had a plan to pay off each other's debts. unaware that the other had the same exact plan too.

the first game, dae-ho had stormed across the bloodstained ground, past the trembling bodies of the survivors, past the bodies that would never move again, and grabbed you like you were slipping through his fingers.

“why are you here?"

his voice had been raw, panicked.

"how…why…"

"why are you here?"

you had shot back, just as desperate, just as lost.

you both had kept your struggles quieter than you should have, thinking you could handle them alone. thinking you didn’t have to drag each other down.

it didn’t matter now.

now, all that mattered was surviving. together.

which was what led you here…standing in a sea of exhausted, wary women, pushing into the bathroom with jun-hee behind you and hyun-ju in front, keeping them close, like a shield.

you aren’t the only one on edge. hyun-ju’s beautiful eyes are scanning, assessing. she turns around and catches the way your fingers twitch at your sides, the way your shoulders stay stiff.

"you okay?" her voice is low, careful.

you force a small nod.

"just need to pee badly."

it’s a lie.

hyun-ju knows. she reads people too well…probably from whatever special forces training she’s had.

she doesn’t press, just gives you a look before shifting her attention elsewhere.

it’s not the bathroom that has you tense.

it’s her.

player 123.

she’s already ahead, pushing through the group like she owns the place along with her goon’s, loud and grating. she hasn’t stopped talking since mingle. hasn’t stopped running her mouth.

"you see that one triangle guard earlier?"

she crows to no one in particular, shoving her elbow into the woman next to her.

"dude was practically asleep. i bet i could’ve grabbed his gun…boom, game over."

the woman beside her gives a nervous laugh, stepping away. no one outside of her dickriding goons wants to be near her…she’s too reckless, too unpredictable.

your fingers curl into a fist at your side.

you don’t trust her. not after what happened in the six-legged penalathon.

you and player 123 had almost killed each other.

it had been an accident, but that didn’t matter. the two of you had made a mistake, a single misstep, a moment of hesitation that had nearly sent both of you crashing to your deaths. and she blamed you.

the audacity.

when jun-hee came to your group, asking to join. you gave up your spot for the woman. dae-ho protested, but you told him that the pregnant woman needs to live, so being with men will help her.

dae-ho intensely watched you as you approached 123 and her group of 4. player 123 said you could join, since she needed another woman who looked, “as fit as you.”

however, that was a mistake.. since you both nearly tripped when you were running to the finish line.

since then, she hated you..

you weren’t exactly fond of her either.

you keep jun-hee behind you as the crowd shifts into the cramped bathroom. it’s a tight space, bodies pressing in on all sides. no privacy, no safety.

you aren’t the only one feeling it…jun-hee shifts uncomfortably, pressing a protective hand over her stomach. you glance at her, lowering your voice.

"we’ll be quick. i won’t let anything happen."

she nods, trusting.

too trusting.

you can feel player 123's presence, her laughter cutting through the thick air like a blade. she’s talking again, louder now, complaining about everything.

"this is ridiculous," she groans, kicking the bottom of a stall.

"they’re treating us like animals. like we’re not even people."

you bite back the urge to snap.

because that’s the thing...she’s not wrong.

that doesn’t make you hate her any less.

hyun-ju watches you carefully from the side, tracking the way your body tenses, the way your fingers tap against your leg like you’re holding yourself back from something.

"she’s not worth it," hyun-ju mutters under her breath.

you exhale sharply, steadying yourself.

"i know."

that doesn’t stop you from keeping an eye on player 123. doesn’t stop the weight of her presence from pressing into you.

because in a place like this, grudges can get you killed.

the guards stand lazily outside of the entrance, their rifles hanging at their sides, not paying attention.

they don’t care about the many players inside one hot room.

but you do.

you keep jun-hee close, guiding her toward the stalls. she looks miserable, her hand resting over the curve of her belly, shoulders tight with exhaustion.

"y/n, i just need to sit for a second."

jun-hee pulls you towards the first stall.

she goes into one of the stalls, locking it behind her, and you let out a slow breath. your heart is still racing. not because of the guards, not because of the way the other women keep their eyes peeled for weakness…but because of player 123.

you hear her voice somewhere off to the side, barking out a laugh, too loud, too confident.

"these stalls are disgusting, i swear to god. like what do they want us to do? piss outside?"

she’s talking to no one in particular, but the woman next to her lets out a forced chuckle, clearly too nervous to ignore her.

“she is so fucking annoying!”

you think.

your jaw clenches, fingers twitching at your side.

you don’t trust her. you never have.

so when jun-hee comes out of her stall, you decide to go in after her. not because you need to pee, but because you don’t want to have to go later, when things could be worse.

“i’ll be quick," you murmur, passing by hyun-ju, who is by the sinks, watching everything like a hawk.

"stay alert," she tells you.

you nod, stepping inside the stall, locking it behind you.

you sit, but your mind is elsewhere, lost in the horrors of the game.

everything blurs together…the blood, the screams, the crack of bones snapping under pressure. you squeeze your eyes shut, pressing your palms into your thighs, trying to push the thoughts away, trying to remind yourself that you're still here. still breathing. still alive.

BANG.

your entire body jolts at the sudden impact against the stall door.

"can you hurry the fuck up?"

that voice.

your blood runs cold.

player 123.

you don’t say anything, don’t react, hoping she’ll just move on, but then

she crawls under the stall.

your breath catches in your throat, horror spiking through your veins as her hands and knees scrape against the filthy tile, her face appearing under the gap before she pulls herself inside, into your space.

"are you fucking stupid?"

you snap, scrambling to pull your joggers up as you stagger to your feet.

she just laughs.

loud, grating, obnoxious.

"oh? oh, look at that." she grins, rocking back on her heels.

"it’s the stupid bitch who almost got us killed!"

your fists clench.

"get the fuck out,"

you hiss, pushing past her to unlock the door.

she follows you.

you storm toward the sinks, your entire body thrumming with rage. she’s right on your heels, her voice sharp and mocking as she keeps egging you on.

"what’s wrong, 099? mad i called you out? mad that you’re such a weak bitch who made it this far? "

you ignore her, stepping toward the sinks where hyun-ju and jun-hee are.

she doesn’t stop.

"you think you’re some big hero? sticking with your little group like you’re different from the rest of us? newsflash, sweetheart…nobody here is safe."

your hands shake. you grip the edge of the sink, trying to steady yourself.

then she says it.

"you know... i started to notice how close you and player 388 are. are you guys together?"

123’s tone shifts, turning cruel, taunting.

you stare at her through the mirror, hoping she shuts the fuck up.

"wait, awee you guys are together! you know.. he’s such a charm. i cannot wait to steal him when you die during the next game!"

that’s it.

before you can even think, your body moves on its own.

you turn, your fist flying through the air, and the impact is satisfying to your mind and knuckles.

CRACK.

your knuckles collide with her face, sending her stumbling backward, her body hitting the ground with a hard thud.

someone gasps.

her goons rush forward, helping her up.

hyun-ju steps toward you, eyes sharp, but before she can say anything—

all hell breaks loose.

somewhere in the room, another fight erupts.

two randome women claw at each other, snarling like wild animals, hair being pulled, screams echoing off the tile.

and then, like a chain reaction, everyone starts fighting.

jun-hee stumbles back against the wall, hiding, pressing her hands over her stomach, panic flashing across her face. she knows she doesn’t stand a chance in this chaos.

hyun-ju moves quickly, diving into the mess, trying to break up fights before they get worse.

you…you don’t get the chance.

because player 123 tackles you.

you slam into the sink counter, pain exploding through your ribs.

"you wanna fucking hit me, huh?"

she seethes, grabbing onto your shirt.

"you bitch! you think you’re tough?"

you fight back, gripping her by the shoulders, trying to throw her off. but she’s strong, fueled by anger, by adrenaline.

you both go crashing to the ground.

she’s on top of you, fists flying.

one punch.

two.

three.

your face is bruised, bloodied.

your vision goes blurry, the taste of iron thick in your mouth as blood pools around your molar teeth.

you gasp, hands scrambling for anything.

you grip 123’s neck, trying to choke her, trying to stop her punches, but she just snarls, yanking at your hair, slamming your head back against the tile.

someone—se-mi—tries to pull her off.

but it’s not working.

you’re losing.

then

something presses against your thigh.

your metal fork.

the one from earlier’s meal. the one you saved, just in case something like this happened

your fingers close around it inside of your pocket.

without thinking..without hesitating..

you move your right hand quickly and plunge it into her neck.

she freezes.

123’s brown eyes go wide.

her hands, her fists, stop.

she limps, her body crumbling.

however, that was not enough.

something inside you snaps.

you stab.

again.

over and over and over until..

"STOP!"

arms pull you back… hyun-ju.

your breath is ragged, your chest heaving.

player 123 is dead.

her body is still.

her blood is everywhere.

you don’t realize what you’ve done…not really…until hyun-ju drags you into the hallway, pushing you against the wall beside a guard.

you’re hyperventilating. those pink lungs of yours cannot seem to catch a breath.

hyun-ju doesn’t yell at you. doesn’t scold you for murder since that would be hypocritical of her. she just takes the bloody fork from your hands, wipes at the blood on your face…though your 099 shirt is already soaked in red.

"breathe," she orders.

you can’t.

"what did i do?"

jun-hee stands nearby, eyes wide, face pale.

she looks at you, then at the bodies inside.

"nothing. since nothing will be mentioned to the others,"

she says quietly.

you nod.

silent.

back to the dorms.. you can barely walk.

your legs feel like they don’t belong to you, and the weight of what you just did claws at your chest, sinking deep into your ribs, making it hard to breathe.

hyun-ju keeps her arm wrapped tightly around you, holding you up, making sure you don’t collapse under your own exhaustion. your shirt is soaked in blood..

some yours, most of it hers.

player 123 is dead.

you did that.

you killed her.

yet, in this moment, all you can focus on is putting one foot in front of the other as you and the remaining women shuffle back into the dorms.

the second the doors open, the tension inside the dorm shifts.

the men had heard everything.

the screams.

the fighting.

the pounding of bodies slamming against the walls, the stalls, the sinks.

the killings.

it was a nightmare.

and dae-ho almost ran after you.

he had almost lost his mind when the first screams from multiple women echoed through the halls, his entire body lurching forward, ready to run, to fight, to protect you, before jung bae grabbed him.

"don’t." jung bae had hissed, forcing him to stay put.

"we don’t know what’s happening yet."

"it’s a fucking massacre, that’s what," young-il had muttered under his breath, his face pale as they all listened.

dae-ho couldn’t stay calm.

he was barely breathing, his hands clenching and unclenching, his mind running a thousand miles a minute.

you had told him you’d be okay.

you had promised.

but then why did the screaming keep going?

why did it sound like hell itself had broken loose in there?

at one point, it sounded like you were screaming.

it was, it was when you were repeatedly stabbing 123 over and over again.

back in the dorms, dae-ho kept trying to reason with himself.

you don’t start fights.

you aren’t reckless.

then he remembered the way you and 123 had argued after your group barely survived the six-legged penalathon…by four fucking seconds.

he remembered 123 cursing you out, yelling about how you should’ve died instead of her almost falling.

he remembered the way you just flicked her off, walking away.

she was a loose cannon.

123 was like thanos and namgyu smashed into one woman.

what if—

the doors open.

the women return.

and it’s worse than he imagined.

the ones who come back look horrible.

some are bloody. some have fresh bruises. some have torn shirts, missing shoes, swollen faces.

but not as many women return as there were when they left.

dae-ho’s stomach drops.

he scans the group frantically.

the marine’s heart hammers.

his eyes land on hyun-ju and jun-hee first…both fine, exhausted but fine.

then he sees you and his blood runs cold.

his baby. his love.

you look destroyed. your face is bloodied. your right eye is swollen. there’s a deep cut above your eyebrow, blood trailing down your cheek, dripping onto your already soaked shirt.

your lips are busted.

your knuckles are bruised and your hands are shaking.

"what the fuck happened?"

dae-ho’s voice is sharp, broken.

hyun-ju doesn’t answer right away.

instead, she tightens her grip on you, like she’s trying to shield you from his panic.

it’s too late.

he pushes forward, prying you out of hyun-ju’s arms, cradling you in his own.

his hands hover over your face, your wounds, your bruises, like he doesn’t know where to touch, where to fix, where to start.

"baby, oh my god, what did they do to you?" his voice breaks.

he lifts you into his arms, carrying you straight to his bed, settling you down gently, as if you might shatter if he moves too fast.

you don’t say anything.

you can’t.

because if you open your mouth, if you speak,you might just say what you did.

so instead, you stare at the ceiling, your breath shallow, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you.

hyun-ju and jun-hee exchange a look.

they don’t tell him.

they don’t say what really happened.

that is your place, not theirs.

they don’t tell him that you killed player 123 in a fit of survival and rage, stabbing her over and over again until her body was lifeless.

instead, hyun-ju lies.

"a fight broke out. everyone was attacking each other."

dae-ho’s jaw tightens, his eyes flicking over every bruise, every wound, every drop of blood.

"and she was attacked?"

jun-hee nods.

"we barely made it out."

dae-ho exhales sharply, his hands trembling as he tears a piece of his 388 shirt, dipping it into some cup of water (belonging to gi-hun) before gently pressing it against your wounds.

"fuck, i should’ve been there," he mutters.

"i should’ve protected you."

you swallow.

dae-ho’s words make your chest ache in a way you can’t explain.

he doesn’t know.

he doesn’t know what you did.

he doesn’t know that you aren’t just hurt.

you are a killer now.

across the room, young-il/001/the frontman undercover watches you carefully as he sits beside a worried gi-hun and jung-bae.

his eyes linger.

he knows.

he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make a scene, but you catch the way he scans the room, the way he takes note of who came back..and who didn’t.

123 isn’t here

he knows.

you don’t look at dae-ho.

you can’t

because then you’d have to acknowledge it. and right now, you just want to pretend.

pretend you didn’t just take a life.

pretend you’re still you.

the speaker comes on and the room freezes as everyone listens. suddenly, the names of the eliminated players in the women’s bathroom echo through the dorms.

"player 037. eliminated."

"player 272. eliminated."

"player 081. eliminated."

"player 410. eliminated."

"player 008. eliminated."

"player 072. eliminated."

and then..

"player 123. eliminated."

the second her number is called, the room shifts in your perspective.

your stomach twists.

dae-ho’s eyes snap to you.

then to hyun-ju.

hyun-ju turns away.

you tense.

but he doesn’t know.

not yet. not yet.

because lights out is coming.

during lights out, you wake up to dae-ho who is looking up at the ceiling. the ceiling where the gold pig sits with all of the money. the money from the dead players.

“baby, is everything alright?”

you ask lightly, putting your hand on his upper thigh as he looks over at you.

the man smiles lightly, brushing a piece of hair off of your forehead as you close your eyes.. taking in his touch.

“i should be asking you that.”

dae-ho responds.

of course you are still thinking about the murder you committed. however, you know that there will not be any legal consequences. the guards and this whole game is illegal itself!

however, you wonder how dae-ho will look at you.

he used to talk to you about a murder that he committed while he was in the marines. the one thing that started his PTSD while serving. however, he was forced to do that.

you were not forced.

well, that is debatable.

since you were acting in self-defense.

you brought your sore lips over dae-ho’s and started kissing him soflty, moving his hands to your ass while you sat your clothed core on top of his bulge.

“y/n.”

he groans through your lips.

“hm.”

you smirk.

“is this alright? i don’t want you to feel uncom–”

“we need a distraction, dae-ho.”

two minutes later, your lips around around his fat tip. the marine’s head laid back against the hard wall, his pants pulled down to his ankles as you took his whole length inside of your throat.

you were distracting yourself. your focus is fully on your lover’s scent, his big dick in your throat, your hands massaging his balls, and the way your lashes batted up at his eyes while you sucked his dick.

this is the only way you can distract yourself from earlier. the murder. the murder you commited.

dae-ho wrapped your hair in a ponytail with his hands while you continued to do your work. you concentrated your tongue on a particular vein on his shaft while arching your back in the process.

"fuck, you're sucking me off so perfectly."

your boyfriend of five years reaches over to massage your clothed ass, groaning softly as you deepthroated his cock.

obviously, sucking his cock during lights out, where a player can easily see you, was not ideal for most people. however, you refused to pull dae-ho into a bathroom and do it. not where you killed 123.

dae-ho’s cock twitched inside of your throat and you hummed, feeling his white load spill inside of your mouth and throat.

the man puts a pillow over his head, so the pillow can block out his loud pornographic moan he spoke out.

you were always so good at sucking his dick, oh how much he missed it while the games were happening.

you helped your boyfriend pull his boxers and pants back on. the man flipped you over and kissed all over your neck, but you cringed.

not because of dae-ho, not at all. you were so desperate for his tongue on your clit but somehow.. you started smelling the metallic blood from earlier.

123’s blood.

tears fill your eyes almost immediately.

when dae-ho realized that you were crying out of fear instead of pleasure, he stopped instantly. he pulled you into his arms as you stained his shirt with your tears.

you started to hyperventilate again.

dae-ho keeps you in his arms, but pulls your head off of his chest in order to help yourself breathe.

“baby, please breathe.”

dae-ho panics, nearly having tears in his eyes too.

“dae-ho, i-i-ca-can’t. i’m ah-a monster.”

you coughed out.

dae-ho frowns.

“no you’re not!”

he mumbles confidently, truthfully.

“you’re my angel.”

you cry more, shaking your head with a frown.

“angels don't kill people, dae-ho.”

you sob, wiping your nose with your blood stained jacket.

“what?”

dae-ho’s eyes widened.

“sh-sh-she was so close to killing me i-in there!”

you start shaking, dae-ho holds your hands as you try to recall the memory.

your lips turn pale. dae-ho holds the back of your head with his large hands as more tears fall down your face.

“dae-ho, i killed 123!!! the fork i-i ha-had when we ate the bibimbap to-together! she almost beat me to death so i stabbed her.”

your hands started shaking to the point where dae-ho had to hold them.

not only was the memory so traumatic, but you were started to think that dae-ho would leave you.

scared that he would not want someone who is a murderer.

dae-ho’s eyes are widened, he cannot say anything.

“puh-pl-please say something! i swear it was in self-defense!! she did this to me-”

you pointed at the bruises and cuts on your face.

“i-i couldn’t breathe before i felt the fork in my pocket. i had to, i am so sorry! please forgive me for being a monster!”

you forced your hands out of dae-ho’s and covered your face, ashamed of yourself.

dae-ho is everything good in this world. even here, in this twisted, merciless game, he treats you like you’re made of glass…like you’re still the same person he fell in love with before all of this.

you’re scared.. now you believe that he knows that the girl he’s holding, the girl he’s protecting so fiercely, is not the girl he fell in love with.

you’re a monster. a murderer.

the blood on your hands isn’t just yours…it’s 123s.

dae-ho holds you again.. and doesn’t let go of you. not even for a second.

the marine’s arms stay firmly around you, grounding you as your entire body shakes, as your chest heaves, struggling to pull in air. your lungs burn, your throat closes, and your vision blurs with the overwhelming flood of emotions crashing down on you all at once.

you can’t stop crying.

you can’t stop the guilt, the fear, the shame from clawing at your insides, making you feel like you’re being ripped apart from the inside out.

"i'm a monster,"

you choke out between uneven breaths.

"i don’t deserve you, dae-ho. i don’t.."

"stop."

dae-ho’s voice is gentle, but firm. the man’s hands cup your face, thumbs wiping away the hot tears streaming down your cheeks, even though they just keep coming.

"baby, listen to me. i understand."

dae-ho’s voice is steady, warm, full of something so deep and unwavering.. it only makes you cry harder.

"i know. it was self-defense."

you shake your head, gripping onto his wrists like he’s the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely in this hellhole.

"but i still did it," you whisper, voice breaking.

"i still killed her."

dae-ho doesn’t flinch.

his grip doesn’t loosen.

his expression doesn’t change.

"and it would have been you killed if you hadn’t."

his words hit hard, slicing through the noise in your head.

you inhale sharply, shuddering.

"this game… it’s bringing out the worst in all of us." his voice softens, his forehead pressing against yours.

"this isn’t your fault, baby. you were protecting yourself."

you sob, shaking your head violently.

"no–"

"yes." he pulls back just enough to look at you, really look at you, his dark eyes full of nothing but love.

"you’re not a monster. you’re still my girl… my angel."

dae-ho’svoice breaks on those last words, but he keeps going.

he wants to cry with you.

"when we get out of here, i’ll get us help." he promises.

"therapy, whatever you need, i’ll be right there with you. we’ll get through this. together."

your face crumples, your hands tightening in the fabric of his 388 shirt.

"how can you still love me after this?"

dae-ho lets out a soft, shaky breath, like he can’t believe you’d even ask that.

"how can i not? you’re the love of my life. bad or good."

your chest shakes as another sob wracks through you, but this time, it’s different.

it’s not just grief, it’s relief.

because he’s not leaving.

he’s not disgusted.

he’s not giving up on you.

"i’m not mad, baby. i’m not mad at you." his lips press against your temple, lingering.

"and we’re okay. i’m still with you. i’m still going to protect you."

"we’re okay?" you whisper, almost afraid to believe it.

he nods, pulling you closer, holding you like he never wants to let go.

"we’re okay."

masterlist

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partiallysame · 16 hours ago

Note

I'm sorry if this is a weird request, I love your writing a lot and you bring me great comfort, and I've been binging ur stories after my ex cracked me in the face (enjoy jail Ryan)

how do you think poly 141 with a civilian s/o who comes home from work, not expecting them to be home from deployment, with a bloodied lip and black eye, a tear across her forehead that slowly oozes blood. Maybe her own knuckles are bruised and split from where she had fought off the two men who jumped her. Her pants were torn at the knees from where she grappled on the ground. Johnny's jean jacket he let her borrow was nowhere in sight left in dust as she ran for her life.

I love your writing again, I hope ur safe and please eat well and rest ❤️❤️ don't let anyone get away with putting their hands on you.

First and foremost fuck you Ryan rot in jail and hell bitch

The adrenaline had finally started to wear off as you pulled your car into the driveway, only to start to panic again when you realized your husband and your boys were home early. Like two weeks early. You sat in your car for a few moments trying to wipe the blood from your face, your hands, your knees, trying anything to look like what just happened didn’t actually happen. But the second your car pulled in they all made their way out, too excited to see their Missus to wait for her to come inside. Johnny was the first to reach the car, always so eager to see you. You sat still in your car. He tried to open the door but it was still locked. Crouching down to motion for you to open the door, maybe you were on the phone or something and that's why you hadn’t gotten out yet. But as he lowered himself to see you, only to be met with a nightmare sight.

“Sweet’art open the door.” Voice serious in a way you had never heard before. His hand reached behind him to wave the rest of the men over, not wanting to yell for them and scare you more than you already seemed. You shook your head no. They weren’t supposed to see you like this. You were fine. You made it home, you were safe now, you were gonna fix up all your wounds and be healed before they got home. But here they were trying to coax you out of the car as tears streamed down your face. Fingers slowly pressing the unlock button, both the drivers and passenger side doors were swung open. Johnny reached over you to unbuckle your seatbelt and scooping you up out of the car.

“Bring me my wife.” It was an order that MacTavish was not going to follow until you were pulled from his arms. “M’sorry’s” poured from your mouth between sobs as you clung to your husband and were brought into the house and set so gently on the kitchen counter, allowing the four men to get a full view of your beaten body. You sat, body shaking slightly from the adrenaline and pain that was starting to set in as they stared. Stared and the dark purple forming around your eye. Staring at the gash across your cheek and your split lip. Drops of blood on your torn shirt, jeans shredded at the knees, wet bloodied fabric stuck to the scrapes on your knees. They were all looking at you so differently. You thought your husband was going to cry, Johnny too. Kyle looked so broken. You had been working so hard for Simon to soften to open up to you and he was, but the look on his face scared you.

Working in perfect unison the men started to undress you, removing your bloodied clothes. A first aid kit was set next to you as they each took a portion of you to care for. Apologizing when you’d wince at the pain of being cleaned up. Johnny was holding an ice pack up to your eye as Kyle took off his shirt for you to wear. None of them were willing to leave your side long enough to just grab new clothes from down the hall. Another “I’m sorry” fell from you and your husband felt like he was going to snap.

“My Love, please stop apologizing. It’s not yer fault honey. Can ya tell us what happened?” You nodded and recounted how two men had cornered you after work, wanting your purse. How they thought you weren’t handing it over fast enough.

“But I’m a captain’s wife you know? Not just gonna take it lying down now am I? You should see the other guys.” You tried to joke and motioned to your split knuckles that Simon had so carefully wrapped up for you.

“Where?” Simon’s voice came out harsh and the men snapped their heads toward him, a warning to calm down. (They’d find who did it later but rn the focus is on their Missus)

“I’m sorry Johnny.” You turned toward the large scot still holding the ice pack. He lowered it because he wanted you to see his face when he told you there was no reason to apologize.

“But I was wearing your jacket. You know the jean one you left for me. The one that smells like you. The one you look so handsome in. It came off and I left it there.” Your breathing picked up again, tears threatening to spill at losing his favorite jacket. You barely finished your confession when he was pulling you into his chest, strong arms feeling so warm and gentle around you.

“Don’ care about a fuckin’ jacket. You came home lovie. That's what I care about.”

#prices lil wife #tf 141 #poly!141 #comfort #cod x reader #cod modern warfare #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #cod x you #soap x reader

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venuslarkspur · 17 hours ago

Note

Can I please request a teen female reader (15-17?) who’s entered the games to help her family, like all the responsibilities have fallen to her after her dads death 🥺💕(ANY CHARACTERS WILL DO) ILY UR PINK HAIR FIC AS WELL)

Playtime’s Over.

Pairing(s): Squid Game Characters meet Fem!Teen!Reader, (ALL PLATONIC). Contains: Thanos, Se-Mi, Kang Dae Ho, Seong Gi Hun, Cho Hyun Ju, Park Gyeong Seok.

Summary: Them just doting on Teen Reader and wanting to protect her!

Note: This can be read as gender neutral as well! I didn’t really go out of the way to make it female looking back. NOT PROOFREAD I COULD NOT BE ARSED

Warning(s): ANGST, mentions of eating, VIOLENCE, family problems.

Thanos

- He immediately takes a liking to you and can straight away tell you’re not actually 18. (I’m with the firm belief this man would have a soft spot for kids)

- Forces the rest of the group to refer to you as “yeodongsaeng” (or little just sister) and it makes you feel loved, even though you know he’s full of shit , kids see everything.

- You swear that sometimes he thinks you’re his actual sister, with the way he acts towards you; others in the game constantly think you’re actual siblings.

- Nearly gives you some of his drugs before he remembers your age and tells you to scram and do your homework.

- Doesn’t let Nam-Gyu shit talk you, would sooner slap him on the head than let him do that, and firmly reminds him you’re his younger sister now as well. That thought of being his sister made you want to vomit, but you wouldn’t mind Thanos being your brother though.

- Bonding over your father’s not being around anymore! Even though your circumstances are very different.

- When 2 players are called In mingle. He hesitates, despite the drugs running through his system; he shouts at Nam-Gyu to go with Min-Su while he drags you into a nearby room. Dumbfounded you still were, as he picked you first.

- You had found someone, despite his countless flaws and bullshit. There was still someone, until there wasn’t anymore. And you were left alone again.

Se-Mi

- You’re the only one she’s letting call her ‘unnie’, very protective of you even before knowing your true age.

- If you need a distraction she will let you play with one of her rings while she asks you how school is and how you are doing.

- Very torn when she hears you’re providing for a whole family by yourself, wants to be there for you. Since you’re a kid with no parents to guide you here.

- Would give you her milk carton and egg. She doesn’t want it anyway just take it!

- Lets you trail after her like a duckling.

- Isn’t afraid to tell anyone to leave you alone if you’re getting picked on.

- Has an epiphany when she realised the reason your so good at the games is because it probably hasn’t bee long since you played them on the school courtyard :(

- Protects you in mingle, even though she knows she won’t always be able to keep you safe. But it ended up being her you failed to save.

Kang Dae-Ho

- Was the first person to jump in and help you when you were getting abused by one of the other players, an older man that you had pickpocketed quite recently; naturally, he longed for his revenge, firmly punching your stomach, you fell to the ground immediately; he grabbed your hair and before he could land a blow on your face another player stepped in.

- “Leave the kid alone.” Another man, younger this time whose number read “388” had jumped in to defend you. The older man backed off slightly, but still felt the need to verbally attack you. “You know this little bitch?” He spat out, locking eyes with you. “This kid stole cash from me!” He screamed pointing an accusatory finger at you. You weren’t denying, you hanged your head in guilt; even if you explained your circumstances, he wouldn’t care. “Maybe she did, but shes just a defenceless kid,, lay off.” and with that the stingy man trotted away, maintaining eye contact with you.

- Player 388 had checked up on you after that, since that day you were overly attached to him. Trailing after him, he didn’t mind at all not one bit. He told you he actually had several older sisters and it was nice to have a younger one for a change.

- He respects your strength and perseverance more than anyone, having to provide for an entire family when you’re just a kid yourself is TIRING work and unimaginable for him.

- Encourages you to make your own choices, like don’t pick “O” or “X” just because he did.

- Makes sure you are one of the first prioritised during mingle, he saw what happened to Young-Mi and couldn’t live with himself if the same happened to you. You do a lot of hand holding after what happened to Young Mi; he’s scared to let go.

- He hates seeing how little hope there is in your eyes for someone so young, it’s his personal mission to make you feel hope again.

Seong Gi-Hun

- Even though he’s kind of in his depressed era rn, all he sees when he looks at you is his daughter staring back at him. Acknowledges straight away that you’re only a bit older than her.

- It takes you a while to catch on, but you eventually realise why he’s protective of you. His own daughter wasn’t around anymore is the conclusion you came to, where she is or if she is you don’t know. Only that he must not see her anymore.

- scolds you quite a lot, telling you that you shouldn’t even be here anyway. That instead you should be doing your homework or studying for your next exam.

- When the cameras watch he has to distance himself from you, he doesn’t want the Frontman to know of his now emotional connection with you.

- You remind him of Sae-Byeok in an odd way.

- Would never forgive yourself if you died, you’d constantly be on his mind.

Cho Hyun Ju

- I can’t lie she initially tries to stay clear of you, she knows if she gets too attached and you die, she won’t be able to live with herself.

- But she can’t seem to get rid of you, you follow her around like a baby duck.

- You, Her and Young-Mi become like a sisterhood, she’s the oldest and you’re the baby of the group. You both call her ‘unnie’

- Young Mi gives you her food and Hyun Ju follows along and passes you some milk. Because you need it to be “big and strong”

- She has so many questions about how you ended up in here. Where are your parents? What are your family doing if you’re here? Shouldn’t you be in school?

- When Young Mi dies she gets very protective of you, she’s not losing you as well.

Park Gyeong-Seok

- Projection!!! He’s missing his daughter, you’re missing your dad! The perfect duo.

- On a serious note he hates how attached he is to you.

- You joined his group in the 2nd game and you played Flying Stone. He knows something was off about you, even putting on a tough exterior you seemed so childlike. When you confess your actual age he’s horrified, he didn’t want to believe it. How on earth are you in debt?

- He can’t believe you’re providing for a whole family. He struggles just providing for his daughter.

- Encourages you to hit “X”, trust me you don’t want to die here, you can’t help your family from your grave.

- If you seem a little hungry he offers you his food.

- You’re attached by the hip during mingle, you never left his side.

- He comforts you during the riot in lights out. Cradling your body, and running his hands through your hair to calm you down; wondering if this is how he’d hold his own daughter if she were here.

- You beg him not to go with the others in the revolt, he almost doesn’t. And later he’d wish he didn’t.

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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 2 days ago

Text

Hawks x Y/N | A Friday Night Between Your Thighs 💋

I recently ran a poll asking "How're We Fuckin' Hawks Tonight?" And most of y'all voted for "He's eating you out," so here's a fic about it. Enjoyyyy <3 A18+ MDNI

Here's something important that absolutely needs to be known by all - getting eaten out by Hawks is always a fuckin' pleasure.

He gets home late Friday night after a long day, long week, long month. He's absolutely exhausted as he slumps through your apartment door and drops his jacket to the ground. He barely makes it over to the couch, falling face first into the plush navy cushions.

You coo and fuss over him, quickly pushing your laptop onto the coffee table and pulling his head into your lap. You card your fingers through his hair and within seconds his eyes droop closed. He's so, so tired, and laying on your lap feels like absolute heaven. He wishes he had more energy to spend hanging out with you or taking you out on his nights off - but right now all he can focus on is the gentle way your fingertips scratch against his scalp and down his sore neck.

You let him doze for a half hour - just enough to recharge but not too much to get him hooked into REM sleep. As he rests, you slowly extract yourself out from under him, laying his head on a soft pillow and covering him with a thick knit blanket. You take care to tuck him in, smoothing the crimson feathers of his wings down lightly as you go. He lets out the tiniest of groans in reply. His wings are sensitive, after all.

You move quietly to the kitchen to get some dinner going - a thick chicken noodle soup to drive the chill from his aching bones. When Keigo's head pokes up from the couch a half an hour later, you're already ladling a generous portion into his favorite bowl. His tired eyes crinkle at the corners as you stride towards him, two heavy soup bowls in hand.

"What did I do to deserve all this?" He asks with wonder as you lay down the bowls on the coffee table and pull out your TV dinner trays so the two of you won't spill on the upholstery. You hand him his bowl of soup and he smiles up at you adoringly. He's still wrapped up in the blanket - covered with it like a cloak over his head and shoulders. He looks like a character from the hobbit, sans bushy beard or fuzzy feet.

"I guess you just got lucky." You plant a kiss on his scratchy cheek before pulling your own bowl towards you. You grab the remote and flick on a comfort movie. There's no room for stressful plots tonight.

You both dig into your soup happily. Keigo asks for seconds, and then thirds. You even manage to scrounge up a sleeve of Ritz crackers that he absolutely demolishes. You love seeing him relaxed and happy - it's a rare sight. But here he is - beautiful and curled up on your couch with a full belly. It makes your heart sing.

He's already falling back asleep. That's no surprise - after a meal Keigo is always out like a light. You know it stems from his childhood trauma - he spent the beginning of his life hungry and afraid. Having a full stomach is such a comfort to him now, and makes him feel so safe and at ease. He always knocks out for a little right after dinner. You watch his eyelids get heavy and you note that he's still wearing his street clothes.

"Kei...let me go get something comfier for you to wear, hm?" You say sweetly, placing the dirty soup pot in the sink.

"Huh?" He blinks awake. "Oh, yeah, babe. That would be great." He smiles at you again and you feel so bubbly and warm. You drag your fingertips lightly across his wings as you pass the couch and he glimmers under your touch. You hurry back to your room and open up the drawer you've dedicated to Keigo's things. He's stashed a few outfits - jeans, t-shirts and the like - in the space alongside some sweats, extra boxers, deodorant and a tiny bottle of his favorite cologne.

You scoop out a plain black t-shirt and his favorite pair of well-loved grey sweatpants. A few months ago, the back pocket tore clean off. Keito had been pretty bummed about it - this was one of the first clothing items he had bought himself after getting to leave the confines of the Commission. He knew it was silly to hold on to a pair of sweatpants of all things...but he struggled to throw them out and let them go.

In a fit of creative inspiration, you were able to spend some time after work watching sewing tutorials on YouTube. After an hour of content, you had managed to clumsily sew the pants back together. You'd also added a tiny addition - a small heart shaped patch that would be featured prominently on his right ass cheek. When you had unveiling your handy work to your boyfriend, he had gone absolutely mad with excitement. He had kissed your face all over and giggled at the tiny patch addition. He loved that you'd managed to make his favorite pair of pants even more special, and of course he loved the excuse to model his tight hero ass around the apartment for you.

You bring out the fresh outfit and toss it to him on the couch. He immediately gets up, untangling himself from the blanket, and starts to strip.

"Keigo! Dude! The window shades aren't closed!" You shriek at his indecency. He tosses you a wicked grin over his shoulder as he pulls off his shirt, shimmying it up and over his wings. If there's one thing you'll never get tired of - it's seeing your boyfriend naked. His chest is toned and his abs are well defined. His waist tapers down into a tight "v" shape that makes your mouth water. He unzips his jeans and then bends over to pull his foot out of one leg, then the other. He straightens up and turns so you can take him in fully - he's standing in the center of the apartment in nothing but his fitted black boxers. The thin material stretches across his thick thighs in a absolutely delicious way that makes you blush. And, oh, his goddamn package...you can't even begin to find the words to describe how good his cock looks half hard and cradled in that expensive underwear of his.

"I could just stay like this, babe. I don't need to put anything else on." He wiggles his eyebrows up at you suggestively. "Actually...I could lose the boxers, too, if that's what you'd want..."

"Kei..." You say breathlessly, looking him up and down. "I thought you'd want to go back to sleep."

He takes a step towards you, his deep golden eyes filled with a look of want. Suddenly he looks wide awake. Heat pools between your legs as his mouth pulls into a sly grin. He lets his gaze rake across your body, hovering across your breasts, your lips. He knows exactly what he's doing, the damn bird.

"How could I go to sleep when my amazing girlfriend needs to be taken care of?" He walks over to you, folding you into his warm embrace. His biceps flex impressively around you and once again you're in awe of how hot and fit your goddamn pro hero boyfriend is. He nuzzles his face into your neck and sits there for a moment, breathing in your familiar scent before placing a wet kiss on your flushed skin.

"My girl is so good to me...feeding me, making sure I'm cozy and well cared for." He starts to place a trail of hot kisses up your neck and behind your ear. When he reaches your hairline, he groans. "I want to return the favor before we go to bed. Gotta show you I can take care of you, too. Let me eat you out, baby?"

"Mmm, Kei." You can't help but moan at the offer. You shift your weight from foot to foot as arousal blooms in your panties.

"Yeah, baby?" He lets a hand drift lightly down your stomach and over your clothed pussy. He swirls his fingertips in a light figure eight motion around your clit - over and over until you let out a breathy moan. "You gonna let me take care of my pretty birdy?"

"Please."

It's all he needs to hear. A second later he's thrown you down on the couch and he's stripping you down. Your shirt, bra and jeans are instantly on the floor. He leaves your panties, throwing your legs haphazardly over his shoulders as he gets himself into a good position. You're already so turned on that there's a growing damp spot on the gusset of your white laced panties. Keigo breathes in sharply at the sight, biting his lip as he surveys your beautiful body. It's as if he's not quite sure where he wants to start.

"Keigo...I need you, baby." You moan out, bringing your hands up to cup his beautiful sharp face. He leans into the touch, eyes sliding shut for a moment as he just enjoys the way your fingertips feel against his jawline.

"I know, hun. I'm gonna make you feel so goddamn good with my tongue." He promises, reaching down to awkwardly push his boxers off and towards his thighs. His pretty thick cock spring free, kissing his toned stomach and leaving a messy smear of pre-cum on his abs. He takes his dick in one hand, stroking it slowly as he leans forward to kiss the soft plane of your stomach.

You inhale a sharp breath at the contact. His lips are hot and soft as they move across your belly, across your navel, and down towards the waistband of your panties. He takes his time, lavishing every inch of exposed skin he can find with his lips, tongue and teeth. He rolls the edges of his bite across the swell of your hips, and the sensation causes goosebumps to swell across your skin. When he runs his hot tongue flat under the waistband of your panties, you know you're done for.

He releases his cock from his grasp so that he can use both hands. It springs back into position, twitching lightly against his abs. You can't help but envision the snug fit of his cock deep in your cunt. It's one of your favorite feelings - the way he fits inside of you so well. The gentle lovemaking Keigo excels at that allows you to feel every glorious inch of his cock as he flexes and thrusts into you with steady rhythm.

"Time to take these off, I think." He says, hooking his thumbs under the lacy waistband of your panties and pulling swiftly down. The cool apartment air hits your pussy and you suck in a tiny breath at the change in temperature. "Don't worry, babe. I'll warm you up in a minute." He says knowingly, chuckling under his breath at your vague discomfort. He spreads your legs out a bit, staring down at your perfect pussy with an expression of awe.

"I'll never get tired of this view." He says, tracing a fingertip lightly around your folds. You bite your lip as you watch him play with you, zigzagging his fingers across your pussy without touching you in the spots that ache the most. He bends his head forward so he can start kissing up your leg, up your thigh, and into the crease between your leg and your pussy. You're dripping wet, now. Shit, you're so wet you'll need to clean off the couch later with carpet cleaner or something stupid like that.

"Keigo...Keigo please." You beg, staring up into his bright golden eyes with want. You're desperate for him - always have been, always will be.

He smiles down at you and the look is so open and genuine it makes you want to squeal. Keigo is such a damn romantic sometimes - when he fucks you, 90% of the time he wants to "make love." Rough sex is reserved for rare occasions - anniversaries, birthdays and needing to work through tension after hard missions. Keigo prefers to go slow and soft - he wants to make sure you feel his love in every thrust, every lick.

And so, when he finally brings his mouth down to your pussy to get to work, you're not surprised by the way that he takes his sweet time. He starts out at a glacial pace to let you acclimate to the overwhelming feeling of the flat of his tongue against your clit. He knows you're sensitive and get overwhelmed easily, so he likes to ease you into it as best he can. You're already overstimulated and don't think you can last too long - not when he's working at you so meticulously.

Keigo's tongue slowly swirls around your clit, trying to find the perfect rhythm to bring you to the brink of pleasure. You moan pathetically as he tries out a few different shapes - tracing the tip of his tongue back and forth across your clit and folds. After a few minutes, you relax into it, your butt sinking into the couch as he presses your legs further up over his shoulders.

He pulls his face away from your core and you moan at the loss of contact. He looks down at you with an intense expression, eyes smoky and filled with desire. For a moment, a thin string of saliva connects his face to your pussy, and you can't help but think it's the hottest goddamn thing you've ever seen.

"I'm gonna spell my name. Remind you who you belong to." He says in a low, husky voice. You stomach flips at that. He's never done anything like this before, and you wonder where he's taking inspiration from. He dives back in, and after a moment you start to decipher the "K" he's tracing over and over with his tongue across your pussy.

"Fuck!" You cry out when he licks an "E" and than an "I" across your poor, throbbing pussy. The "G" is no big deal, but the way he traces the "O" over and over and over across your clit has you bucking your hips into his face.

"Oh, you liked that last part?" He teases, repositioning himself a bit for better access. He leans back down and continues to trace the same delightful pattern across your clit until your legs start to shake.

"Kei...I'm so close." You say, trying desperately to get your limbs under control as they shake with pleasure. He doesn't stop what he's doing - he just keeps methodically swirling his tongue around you as the pressure inside builds.

He brings a hand down to grasp at the meat of your ass. He takes a cheek in hand and squeezes lightly, making you cry out again before slowly sliding a fingertip between your cheeks. He starts to circle your hole with a soft, wet fingertip as he eats you out. He's played a bit with your ass before - all just gentle touches and caresses up to this point. But now...now he's pushing and sliding and putting pressure on the spot in just the right way.

You feel your orgasm swelling inside of you, Keigo's fingers and mouth working in tandem to draw as much pleasure out of you as humanly possible. Your legs shake more than you thought was humanly possible, and Keigo's cock can be seen clearly twitching in response.

When you cum, you cry out his name (every form of it you know!). Keigo, Hawks, baby, wings, my love. You repeat each of these names with enthusiasm, worshiping the man who's head is between your thighs and taking no prisoners. The orgasm hits you hard and fast, ringing up from your quivering clit and deep into your core. You feel the release all over - in the twitch of your legs, the curl of your toes, in the way your eyes roll back.

"Keigo, babe, I love you." The orgasm rolls through you, making every square inch of you feel alive - you're practically pulsing with heat. Keigo licks you through it, keeping his face planted firmly in one spot as you rhythmically shift your hips to ride his tongue. You can't imagine a feeling better than cumming on Keigo Takami's pretty boy face. You groan out as you come down from your high. Keigo doesn't stop until you tell him to.

When you finally ask him to stop, it's because your clit is getting overly sensitive and needs a break. He nods and pulls his face away from you, grinning like an idiot. His cheeks and chin are damp with your slick, but he looks absolutely thrilled.

"Was that good, babe? Did you enjoy it?" He asks eagerly, shifting forward so he can join you down on the couch and wrap you in his arms.

"Kei, that was..." You don't have the words to describe the magic Keigo's just worked on your pussy. It was Transcendent. Magnificent. Life altering. All good terms and phrases to describe the way that you just ascended on the Number Two Hero's tongue. He nuzzles his face into your neck once more and pulls you close.

"Anytime you need, babe. I'll eat you out whenever. No questions asked."

"That's a big promise, Kei." You say, lifting a hand to his golden locks so you can scratch his scalp the way that he likes. "I might take advantage."

"Oh please." He practically begs, squeezing you lightly between his strong biceps. "I'd eat you out all day if I could. In bed when you wake up, in my office between patrols, in the bathroom at the bar when we're out with friends...babe, I wanna worship that pussy every second I can."

"You're crazy." You laugh, smushing a kiss onto his still damp cheek.

"Crazy for you." He sighs out, happy to feel your skin against his. The two of you are laying completely naked on the couch but it feels like the most natural thing in the world. He's still hard against you but doesn't put up a fuss about it.

"Want me to take care of that?" You ask letting your fingers skim across his half-hard cock. He shivers at the contact, his dick instantly pricking up at the feeling.

"Yes, please."

You smirk and bring your palm up to your mouth for him to see. You lock eyes with him - his golden irises shimmering as he watches you lick the palm of your hand up and down. You then lower the hand between the two of you and wrap it around his dick. His sharp intake of breath at the contact is music to your ears - you're going to absolutely tare him apart like this, you just know it.

"Does my babe like getting jerked off?" You ask softly, pumping slowly at his cock with your slick hand. He whimpers in reply. "Use your words, Keigo."

"Y-yes, Y/N. I fucking love it." He manages to get out between trembling lips. He slowly flexes his hips so he can thrust into your hand, but you cease your ministrations.

"No, Keigo. I call the shots with this." You say firmly, and his hips slow to a stop. Only when he's stopped moving do you resume jerking him off. After a minute, your hand starts to feel dry. You release his cock (much to his protesting) and bring it up to your mouth again. This time, you spit cleanly into the center of your palm. His eyes widen as he watches you spit twice more into your hand before bringing it back down to pleasure him. The saliva is exactly the lubrication needed, and he sighs gratefully as your small hand glides up and down his length.

"You know what this feels like?" You ask him, looking down at his hard cock admiringly.

"What?" He asks, breathless. He's unable to take his eyes away from your lovely face as you push and pull him through his pleasure.

"Feels like...Pro Hero material." You say, picking up your pace and spending a bit of extra time focusing around his tip. He cries out in appreciation - Keigo loves dirty talk. And praise. And essentially whatever you're willing to offer him in a sexy context like this.

It only takes another few good pumps to push him over the edge. You feel his whole body shiver in anticipation of his orgasm - his balls tighten, his cock is pulses. A moment later, he's splattering hot ropes of cum across your bare stomach. He's groaning out your name and giggling into the side of your neck as he spills his seed all over your soft skin.

"Fuck. You're perfect. So perfect, babe." He moans out as he finishes. He bats your hand away as his cock softens and everything gets a little too sensitive.

You lay there for a minute, wrapped up in each other on the couch as Keigo catches his breath.

"I wish you could come into work and do that for me between meetings." He sighs out, content. "That's exactly the kind of reset I need on tough days like this."

"Well your office door has a lock on it, right?" You grin - you love teasing this silly bird. "I don't see any reason why we can't just take a 'work break' together at your desk. And if I accidentally end up on my knees sucking and fucking you behind closed doors? That can't be the worst thing to happen at a Pro Hero agency." You say innocently, batting your eyes at him.

"Fuck. Stop being so hot Y/N. Now I've got an offfice kink or something." He chuckles, planting a wet kiss on your shoulder.

"Well, I'll break the illusion and be not-hot for a moment. I need to pee like a motherfucker." You try to say with a straight face, smirking as you curse.

"The mouth on you!" Keigo says, pretending to sound scandalized. But he releases you from his embrace, allowing your to scrabble to your feet and make your way to the tiny bathroom at the other end of the apartment.

You hurry off to pee and to grab a wet washcloth for yourself. You hastily wipe down your stomach - careful to smooth off all of the cum. After the quick wipe-down, you grab a fresh towel for Keigo and bustle back out into the living room. You toss him the towel and he uses a soft red feather to catch it mid-air. He cleans himself off and finally puts on the comfy outfit you had brought him earlier. The grey sweatpants hang comfortably off of his slim frame, the tiny red heart patch accentuating his juicy booty (or so you think, anyway).

"I think..." You say, surveying him with your hands on your hips. You're still completely naked, and the blinds are still completely open. But, fuck it. At this point if anyone has been watching you both through the window, they've already had a full fucking show. "I think that it's time for bed."

"I couldn't agree more, birdy." Keigo gets to his feet and plants a kiss on your forehead. "I'm gonna hop in the shower real quick and wash myself off, though. It was a long day at the agency and I think I could use a good scrub before I get in between those clean sheets of yours."

"Oh, good point. I appreciate that." You say, happy that you won't need to wash stickiness out of your sheets in the morning. You pad after him back into the bathroom where he flicks your shower to the perfect temperature with practiced skill. The room fills with steam and everything feels blissful. Your body feels loose and warm from your orgasm, and a long stream of hot water from your massage shower head sounds like heaven.

"Care to join me?" He throws you one of those devilish, flirty looks and you melt under his golden gaze. He throws all his clothes to the ground and steps into the shower, reaching out a hand to help you in behind him. He's so goddamn beautiful it makes you want to sing - you'll never tire of seeing Keigo naked. His toned body and honey gold skin shimmer in the low light of the bathroom.

You grin up at him, unable to picture a more perfect Friday night spent with your Pro Hero boyfriend. Soup, sex, shower, sleep. Honestly, what more could a girl want?

You step up behind him and into the hot, steamy shower.

"Always."

End.

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

This one was inspired by a poll I ran recently...

Y'all voted for "He's Eating You Out" so obviously I had to make that happen!

Hope you enjoyed this smutty little fun about our boy Hawks!

Want more fun, smutty fics? Feel free to check out my 🔥Master List🔥 - there's plenty of more where this came from!

Stay safe and be good to each other <3

XOXO,

RedRiotUnbreakableHeart ❤️

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hoshifighting · 16 hours ago

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Olá Lyla Recently i saw a tweet saying that for us girls when reaching the climax the best is to take deep breathes instead of tensing up and then i saw someone say that the best thing that a man has ever told her was "breathe baby..." so... how would experienced seventeen members "teach" you this while in naughty time???? love you girllll <3

seventeen asking you to breath before an orgasm

A/N: hello my luv!! ❤️🧚🏼‍♀️ it may sound a bit repetitive, but i tried my best to give each one a nuance! 👍 AND YES!!! this is the sexiest thing a man can do, only after being being loyal 😩

seungcheol: "baby, slow down. breathe with me." voice so soft, but his grip on your hips is firm, making sure you stay in rhythm with him. he watches you, eyes dark, waiting for you to listen. when you finally let out that shaky exhale, body melting just the way he needs, he grins "yeah, that’s it. just like that." he’ll keep guiding you through it.

jeonghan: "shhh, there you go, breathe, my love." he smirks at first when he notices you tensing, then he’s softening, his thumb brushing over your lips, coaxing them open. "breathe for me, sweetheart." he hums in satisfaction, kissing the breath right from your lips like a reward. he’s soooooo patient.

joshua: "baby, take a deeeeep breath. i got you." he’s soooooo reassuring, holding you close, rocking into you at a pace that forces you to feel everything. "don’t rush it, just breathe." and when you finally do, when your body stops fighting the pleasure, he leans in, whispering, "that’s my good girl."

junhui: "you’re holding your breath, baby. relax, yeah?" he notices immediately, and his hands are everywhere, smoothing over your body, making sure you feel him, not just the overwhelming build-up. "trust me, just let go." and when you finally exhale, he smirks, feeling the way you melt beneath him. "mm, there she is."

hoshi: "breathe, baby. just feel me." the second he feels you start to lock up, his hands tighten on your thighs, keeping you wiiiide open for him. "don’t fight it, just breathe."

wonwoo: "baby, you’re shaking. slow breaths, okay?" he’s so gentle about it, barely pulling back to look at you, his hands guiding you through the pace he knows you need. " just relax, love." and when you finally exhale, unclenching, letting yourself have it, he murmurs, "there you go, that’s my girl."

woozi: "deep breaths, baby. i know it’s a lot." he’s actually teasing you tho!! but his voice is cooing and warm. he can feel the way you’re holding back, so he leans in "don’t hold out on me. just breathe, let me take care of you".

minghao: "no, no, baby, don’t run from it. just breathe." his hands LOCK you in place, not letting you escape what he’s giving you. his voice is so confident, like he knows what’s best for you. and when you finally obey, letting the pleasure fully wash over you, he smiles lazyly, satisfied. "good girl."

mingyu: "breathe, sweetheart, i got you." sweet, but there’s an edge to it, a knowing grin as he watches you struggle to keep up. he knows it’s too much, knows you’re about to cum, but he holds you steady, whispering soft reassurances until you finally let go.

seokmin: "don’t be shy, baby. deep breaths, you’re doing so good." he’s so tender, so encouraging, his kisses never stopping as he guides you through it. "told you it’d feel even better."

seungkwan: "you’re holding your breath again, love. breathe with me." he actually demonstrates, exaggerating a deep inhale, waiting for you to copy him. and when you do, when your body responds exactly how he knew it would, he groans, dropping his head to your shoulder. "fuck, that’s it."

vernon: "babe, don’t fight it. just breathe." he actually grounds you. his lips find yours, his hands roaming, making sure you feel safe, feel wanted. when you finally let yourself sink into it, he smirks, whispering, "knew you’d feel even better if you listened."

chan: "deep breaths, baby. lemme take care of you." his grip tightens just slightly, his pace slowing, forcing you to actually feel each thrust. he kisses you through it, holding you as you finally cum. "see? you just needed to relax."

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zealouswitchwerewolf · 9 hours ago

Text

Tim didn't know what had made him decide to give Damian another chance. If he had to guess, he'd say it was a collection of small moments instead of one big life-changing one. The way Damian was gentle with the animals at the farm, taking care of them in any way they needed without waiting to be asked or caring about dirtying his clothes. It was about the secret smiles Damian got when he thought no one was watching. How he helped the Kents around the house with excitement, delighted to learn new skills instead of annoyed at being put to work. He saw his need to be of use even when no one required it. He was so small. He had seen him struggle to reach things all around the kitchen while trying to help, too shy to ask for a stool, too stubborn to give up.

He was just a kid. A kid with assassin training and a lifetime of trauma but a kid nonetheless. Looking back to his early days at the manor, he could see the insecurity in his actions against Tim. The way he had acted out of fear instead of real aggression. Bruce hadn't helped. Too busy with Jason and the league and Batman to raise a child, or the last 4 for that matter. Damian had received no reassurances of his place in the family. No way to know if he would be allowed to stay without carving a place for himself. Tim understood it better now that he had seen the inner workings of the league. The realization had come gradually but it had stayed on the back of his mind, making him feel like he was missing something. It had gotten him to pay more attention to the kid.

That was how he had finally seen what was bothering him. It was in the small gestures. The minute flinches he displayed every time he was shown affection, the way he seemed to lean towards any kind of friendly touch for the first few seconds only to step away from it as soon as he realized what he was doing. Tim could see his walls were up almost all the time, even while knowing he was in a safe space. At first he had thought it was because of him. Eventually he realized it was another part of his training. That's when he realized Damian still felt like every single moment was a test of some kind. The uncertainty around his undefined position in the family still preventing him from relaxing, even now that he had Robin.

The kid was desperate for affection and clearly touch starved but couldn't let himself lower his guard enough to get what he needed. Hugs didn't help either. It opened him to too many attacks and he could not relax while knowing he was vulnerable in more ways than one. He could see the kid's anxiety skyrocket whenever the Kents initiated one. He hoped it was different with Dick, the two of them had formed a deep connection. Either way, it wasn't enough.

It got worse when the Waynes had their falling out. Tim knew the hero community had decided to shield him but it didn't stop him from keeping informed. He was well aware of the moment things blew up on their face after they realized Bruce's words were just that. Hollow and not backed by Bruce's beliefs. His love was very much conditional and his affection given sparsely.

It was something that wouldn't change unless Bruce put some serious effort into maturing his emotional intelligence and realigning his priorities. Tim didn't see it happening any time soon. He had finally accepted there was not much he could do about it. Not really. He had been trying for years at the expense of his health and sanity and the best he had accomplished was giving him a superficially happy family with such a fragile foundation that it had taken just one small blow to tear the illusion apart. He couldn't fix someone that didn't think there was anything wrong with his current way of life. Leaving was one of the hardest things he had done but he didn't regret it.

That said, he still felt partially responsible. He knew Bruce's mess was his own and Tim shouldn't have to be there to clean it. Dick and Jason were all grown up and perfectly capable of making their own choices. Cass, Steph, Barbara and Duke had all moved on and found communities where they fit in with people they cared about out of the family. They were thriving. Damian, however, was still a child. He didn't have as many options or enough experience in interpersonal relationships to know anything was wrong to begin with or how to go about changing it. Tim couldn't let his little brother suffer without at least trying to help. He had decided to intervene.

It had taken him a few days to determine the best approach. He wanted Damian to know he had options and to show him how healthy relationships worked. He wanted him to be able to relax and let down his walls when he was around people he trusted, even if Tim was not included in that list. He did not want to interact with the rest of the Waynes. With that in mind, he had settled on a plan and gotten to work.

He had started small. He had talked to the Kents. At first it was just Martha and Jonathan present. He had explained the situation and his theories on what would help Damian. He had told them to find a balance to provide affection to Damian through touch without making him feel vulnerable or exposed to an attack. He had then asked Jon, with Ma and Pa's blessing, to start inviting Damian to the farm more often and for shorter trips. He had then started working on his own relationship with Damian.

He approached it slowly, being nearby without being perceived as a threat. Sitting close enough to count as company but not to touch if either of them extended their arms. Working on his homework or his projects without putting on headphones or making himself unapproachable. Keeping his body language open and inviting. Letting Damian be the one to decide if he wanted to interact and do so on his terms. Eventually, the kid took him up on it. It started with small gestures, Damian sitting closer and working on his drawings while Tim kept doing homework. Bringing him snacks or drinks if he got up to get his own.

After a while, they started talking as well. Damian was hesitant at first. Tim had seen him try and talk and had decided it counted as the first move and asked about his pets. It was easier from then. They talked about the farm, the Kents, Tim's independent projects, his major, Damian's drawings, his upcoming events. Damian had told him Bruce demanded his attendance at a gala later that week and Tim had given him tips and tricks to survive Gotham's elite. They still tiptoed around the topic of their family. Damian didn't talk about them, even if he mentioned their name every once in a while. Tim didn't push.

Eventually, Damian had gathered the courage to apologize about his early interactions with Tim. Tim had accepted the apology and taken it as an invitation to start a bigger conversation about healthy relationships and family dynamics. Damian looked thoughtful and sad. Tim had taken it a step further and made him promise to come to him if he ever felt unsafe in his current situation. Damian had looked perplexed and ready to snap his walls back up. Tim had given him enough examples and details to show that he was being earnest and had managed to extract the promise.

Now, Damian was at his door with too many bags to only be visiting but too little to contain everything he owned. Tim couldn't say he didn't see it coming. He had still hoped to be wrong.

The next few months went by quickly. They settled into a routine and Tim made sure to establish clear expectations and well defined boundaries around their arrangement. He started looking for houses, taking Damian to see the more promising ones. He knew his little brother would want to have his animals back with him and they needed more space than the apartment could provide. He bought enough psychology books to fill up a small library. He showed most to Damian. Some he kept to himself. He talked to Ma constantly, trying to make sure he was giving Damian everything he needed to thrive and grow knowing that he was loved. That he mattered. It was nerve wracking. It was worth it when Damian led him to his room, proudly showing his decorations and waiting for Tim's approval. The trust in his eyes was the best compliment Tim had gotten in a long time.

As they got used to living together and relying on each other, Tim kept adding new things to their routine that he thought would benefit Damian. He bought him materials for his art, clothes meant for comfort more than usefulness, things for his pets. He offered to teach him photography, Damian agreed and offered to teach him different drawing techniques. He started introducing Damian to new people, partly to ensure he had more people in his corner if Tim wasn't available but also to expand his bubble of trust and work on de-isolating him after all the years he had spent mostly alone in the manor. He started with people Damian already knew and trusted. Cass, then Steph and Duke, then Kon and Bart, then J'onn, Diana, and Clark, then Zatanna, then some of his university friends, and so on.

He took note of who Damian seemed to click with and arranged more outings with them. He wasn't expecting Damian to connect with everyone but he wanted to give him the option to do so and enough people for Damian to interact without any expectations outside of getting to know them for a bit. Only a select few were allowed inside their house. Tim's priority was for it to be Damian's safe space and he wasn't going to jeopardize that for anything. Only people that had earned Damian's full trust got to visit them in their sanctuary. Everyone else met them outside. It was a good system.

He also enrolled Damian into school, silently transferring legal guardianship of the boy to himself after he had gotten his permission to do so. He didn't think the bats had noticed yet. Bruce was still trying to get to Tim in any way possible (Tim saw his repeated attempts on his security systems and kept an eye on the times he tried to get people to give away his information). Dick had gone back to Bludhaven after the latest screaming match and wasn't aware there was anything out of the ordinary happening. Alfred had contacted Ma Kent to inquire about Damian's safety (his words, not Tim's) then had continued with his duties as Bruce's butler without doing anything else. He cared in his own way, just not enough to take a stand against his ward.

Life kept going. Damian's 13th birthday came and went, they spent it with the Kents and visiting Damian's animals. They moved to a bigger house and Tim started looking at blueprints to build something to house Damian's pets closer to the boy. As they moved in, they decided to turn the living room into a shared study for them both. On one side Damian's painting materials and all his drawings, on the other a sturdy table with comfy seats and enough space for Tim to work on his latest project. They included a couch and a few other places to sit and spend time together. They turned a smaller room into a game room with a big TV, board games and different consoles. They turned the rest of the rooms that weren't their own into guest rooms for the Kents and the few others allowed to visit. Slowly they started filling the walls with their own decorations. Damian's drawings of Titus and Alfred, Tim's pictures of the city and Damian's pets, a few of the ones they had taken together on their excursions. Damian lamented leaving all his old art projects behind but when Tim offered to get them he decided to just start new ones.

Damian's first big drawing in the new house had been a surprise to Tim. He had insisted on covering it whenever he wasn't working on it, making Tim promise not to take a peek and being careful not to show it to him whenever he added to it. Tim was curious but he wanted to respect his little brother's privacy and let him do things on his own terms. It took almost a month to complete. Damian had finished it while Tim was out of the house. By the time he had come back, Damian had been waiting impatiently at the door and had led him to their study as soon as he was within reach. Once they were there, Damian had started fidgeting before hesitantly turning his finished painting so that Tim could finally see it.

Tim felt his heart fill with warmth. It was a painting of him and Damian standing at the Kent's farm. It was breathtaking. Damian had managed to capture the welcoming essence of the Kent's while keeping the focus on him and Tim and their closeness. It felt more like a candid picture of them than a portrait. Full of life and love. Tim felt a few tears escape his eyes as he pulled Damian close and hugged him. Later that day, he got it framed in a design both him and Damian approved of and hung it up in the center of their living room. Even as Damian's collection grew and the walls started filling with art from both of them depicting their adventures, it remained his favorite.

Bruce comes back from the dead and wants to make things better. Bruce comes back from the dead and Tim was the one who brought him back, so it's obviously Tim who'll know best how to help him reconnect with everyone.

It's Tim who should give him advice on how to bond with Dick. Dick has always been his idol, after all. Tim would know best how to bring him back, and he does. He gives good advice and the two of them begin to get closer.

So Bruce asks about Jason, too. Asks about how to bring his son back into the fold and Tim wished for a brief and brutal moment that it weren't so obvious who the favorite was.

Tim told Bruce to give Jason his space, to loosen his rules, and make it clear that no matter what the Red Hood did, no matter what the Batman believed in, Jason was always welcome. Bruce would always want him.

It worked. Bruce wasn't surprised. Tim was a special sort of bitter.

Bruce asked again for Damian and Tim had to push down his anger. "That boy tried to kill me," Tim wanted to say. "I hate him and I want you to hate him too so that I can remember a time when we had something in common," Tim didn't say, but he got close.

He instead told Bruce how Damian liked art and animals and loved hearing stories of the wonders of Batman.

He told Bruce just how much Damian loved being Robin. Told Bruce to tell Damian what a good Robin he was.

God bless or maybe damn him, but he did and it worked and Tim wanted to start screaming and clawing at something because that would have never worked if Tim tried it and it wouldn't have stopped Damian from cutting his line--something Bruce did not and would never know about.

Bruce asked about Babs. How should he make sure she knew that she was a part of the family? They they loved her and not just for the work she did?

He asked about Steph. How should he make sure she knew that she was more important than his rules and that, if something else should go wrong, she didn't need to run away?

He asked about Duke. He never got the chance to get to know him before leaving--not as well as he wanted to, at least. How should he let him know that he was just as much a son as everyone else? That, whether or not his parents woke up, he'd always be welcome?

He asked about Cass. How should he show her that he loves her even though he has nothing to teach her? How can he convey how much he cares about her, his first daughter?

Bruce gets brought back from time and he makes things better. He brings his family back together by following Tim's advice.

And Tim?

Tim brings his dad back from the dead and Bruce changes, becomes a better father.

Bruce changes, but not everything can.

That, Tim thinks, is why Bruce never calls Tim his son.

#this was supposed to be a fun little snippet to include Damian drawing the portrait of him and Tim #somewhere along the line it got so far away frome me I don't even know where it was supposed to go #anywho I'm not the best at describing but I gave it a try #kinda want to write a parallel on how the bats didn't notice Damian's absence for months either but I think I'm out of words for now #Tim and Damian bonding is one of my favorite things #anyway I loved your addition #Damian's pov always makes me want to wrap him in a blanket and give him hot chocolate or something #so i made Tim do it #kinda want Damian's take on the whole socializing thing and the efforts Tim does to make him feel cared for #hope someone writes it

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monimccoythings · 3 days ago

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A Little Break

Look, out of all the ways I expected my week to go, falling in love with the cocept of a sentient ball of Play-Doh that was made of three different children who were experimented on, that carries the weight of the world on his shoulders and has severe trauma and inferiority complex wasn't on my list. Doey was a great and tragic character, It's been very long since I've last seen some good and complex character. He deserved way better and we were robbed. Out of all the chapters to have different endings depending on your choices, this was the one that should have had that option. I really hope they bring him back if not for Chapter five, for the movie.

I just really had to write something for him, I couldn't get it out of my head. Reader is as gender neutral and as poc friendly as possible, can be interpreted as either platonic or romantic, whatever you wish.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦

It had all happened so fast. One moment Doey was there, right in front of you, being his cheery and goofy self, and the other he was groaning in pain as the freezing agents completely reduced his body to a giant block of ice.

Panic flowed through your mind. What had just happened!!??? Did he die??? What were going to tell to the inhabitants of Safe Haven?? Dread filled you at the thought of the Safe Heaven's protector having perished. Your brain went overdrive, brainstorming thousands of ideas to get yourselves out of this predictment.

And then you saw it. Old, heavy and metallic, a valve. Not thinking twice, you aimed your grabpack towards it.

The plastic hand attached itself to the valve with surprising ease, given that by that point it was a bit worse for the wear.

With great effort, the rusty valve, turned with a loud creak that resonated among the empty halls of that prison/laboratory.

"Hurts! HURTS HURTS HURTS!" The giant doughman lamented, panting heavily while doubling over. Your heart ached with sympathy. Slowly, you approached him as if the half a ton super strong and shapeshifting monster was some sort of scared little animal.

"Hey, are you okay?" You asked tentatively

"Yeah, yeah, just a nasty spook." It didn't sound very convincing, that freezing agent must had really done a number on him.

"Here, let's sit down for a bit, okay?." You encouraged, grabbing his massive hand with both of yours, ignoring his insistent reassurances that he was fine.

"I SAD I'M FINE." His free hand slammed against the brick wall, leaving a huge crater in the shape of his handprint, a harsh reminder that this creature in front of you wasn't really human, not anymore, and could easily tear you limb from limb with ease if he desired so. You thought you caught a glimpse of sharp red fangs in his usually empty mouth.

It felt like walking on eggshells, you had to measure very carefully your next words, as the usually goofy and kindhearted Doey seemed to be at his wits' end. Yet you couldn't just stand there and move to the next room as if nothing had happened and leave him to deal with his pain alone.

"No, you're not." You tried to keep yourself calm and composed, despite the persistent feeling of terror at his sudden outburst. "You're hurting, you can't keep going on like this. You need to rest."

"I. Can't. They are all depending on me, and time is not on our side. We need to end this now." His words were bitter, sharp, but they didn't have the dangerous edge they had before. That was good, you supposed.

"Please, I know that you carry a heavy burden on your shoulders, but I'd feel more at ease if we took a rest. Just a couple of minutes. Please." You knew it was wrong to take advantage of his Atlas complex and pathological need to take care of those at his charge to manipulate him into doing your bidding, but he needed to rest, no, he deserved to rest, and more so after that very painful experience.

He scrunched his eyes, having some sort of internal fight, before he finally relented with a long suffering sigh.

"Okay, but just a couple of minutes, nothing more."

Dragging his feet like a petulant child, he dropped to the floor, arms crossed, making the floor tremble slightly. You quietly followed and sat close to him, but still keeping some distance, just in case he decided to explode again. Even then, you could feel the coldness emanating from his skin as a result of the ice that had comoletely engulfed him merely seconds ago.

"You're cold." You stated.

"It'll pass." He tried to act nonchalantly, to rest importance to his own suffering, but the wince he let out while changed positions betrayed him.

You quickly disposed of your grabpack, possibly the only protection you had in this place, and quickly made work of your jacket and outershirt.

"Wha- what are you doing-"

"Shhh" You shushed him, drapping your pieces of clothing over his large frame, they looked comically tiny on him, like a baby blanket on a full grown adult. Still, you hoped they'd do the trick. "You said we don't have time to waste, maybe this will help you warm up faster."

He stood silent for a moment, his oval beady eyes made it impossible for you to know what crossed his mind.

"Oh... thank you..." You could tell he wasn't used to this, not being the caregiver. Having been used for so long to put everybody else's needs over his own it now felt awkward to suddenly be offered some comfort. Doey wasn't sure how to properly react to that aside from the obvious words of appreciation.

The two of you just sat in silence for the rest of your 'pause', afraid that if any of you spoke it would break that peaceful moment and bring you back into the harsh reality.

Doey had to reluctantly agree with Poppy on something.

You were truly special.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime doey #doey the doughman #poppy playtime x reader #doey the doughman x reader #can be interpreted as either platonic or romantic

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tangerineastronaut · 16 hours ago

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hello can I get ateez members as doms? how they act with there subs in these relationship.

Dom!ATEEZ and Sub!Reader individual dynamics | ot8

Pairing: ot8 and their Dom!style Genre: ot8 reactions Requested: Yes w.c. 2.5k Warnings: BDSM dynamics, mentions of smut/sex/etc, discussion of punishments, dacryphilia A/N: what even is this I am so sorry this is so bad omg Please remember this is just my take. If you disagree, you're more than welcome to make your own! Don't take it personally 🫶🏽 Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

Hongjoong

Be afraid

^ When you’re bad (most of the time, u little shit)

Hard!Dom, strictest of the members

Brat tamer 100000% but doesn't want to be

Genuinely gets angry when you’re a brat, would prefer if you’d just listen to him

Punishments are meant to break you emotionally

Worst of all the members in that regard tbh

Will deny you things rather than physical discipline ~ praise, orgasms, affection

Wants you desperate and needy, it gives him control over you

Can forget to give you praise at times, does not get angry if you ask/remind him

“Ah, sorry. I’ve been busy, baby. Yes, I’m proud of you for going out today, I know you’ve been struggling recently. Did you eat at that cafe you liked? Did you remember to use my card? Why not? That's what it's for, love."

Blows money on you

Cannot stop buying you pretty things, especially clothes

Makes you try on the things he's purchased for you - usually ends with you getting fucked in whatever you had on last

Wants you to wear nice things when you go out to fancy dinners

Not very physically affectionate but will be if you need him to be

Will not punish you for being insecure, just wants to reassure you and make you feel beautiful

Sex is either quick and dirty or long and passionate

Fav positions are standing or missionary with your legs over his shoulders

Shower sex >>>

He's so damn busy there's not much other choice

Looks so fucking hot when he's got you pinned to the tile wall

Biting/marking - he loves to use his teeth on you

Don't you dare bite him back

Likes foreplay but prefers sex, is good at eating you out but would rather use his cock than his tongue

Is good at aftercare, though it's more of a standard, doesn't like pillow talk unless you need it

Will still make sure you're safe/comfy/loved and will do anything for you

Is rough, but can turn it off when he knows you need a softer side.

Seonghwa

Soft!dom

Gentle until he isn't

Strict, but not the strictest

Does not enjoy punishments as much as the others, but still wants to make sure you know your place

Does not understand the concept of being a brat, you're so good for him

"What do you mean no? Like no...what? I just asked you to come here, silly."

Rarely has to punish you anyway, he doesn’t have many rules

You break the rules on purpose sometimes

He’ll punish you harder if he thinks that’s the case vs you accidentally breaking a rule

Very snuggly

Will want you to just sit with him while he works with his legos

Loves to be held by you

Asks you for compliments

“Do you like this color on me?”

Will not scold you in public

Expect gentle touches and verbal correction

Hates seeing you cry, even if it's from an intense orgasm

Obsessed with aftercare

Will shower you with praise and tell you how well you did

"I'm sorry baby, I was rough today. Took me so well though, so pretty. Love it when you get on your back for me. Want me to wash your hair?"

Likes taking care of you in general, will mother you like his members (but worse)

"Why didn't you eat today?! C'mon, let's go to that noodle shop you like."

Sex is not super kinky but is almost always emotional

Pretty straightforward, wants you both to feel good and snuggle after

Likes getting head and giving head, but prefers sex over foreplay

Fav positions are spooning and intimate spaces like in a comfy chair with you in his lap

Soft kisses + him stroking your hair + thanking you for always being his good girl

Yunho

Cocky and playful

Neither soft nor hard, just likes to keep you guessing

Is silly unless he's in a bad mood

Likes to make you sit in his lap while he games

You like it too, he knows it

Will get pouty if you don't praise his efforts

Don't tease him while he plays

Fr don't

If you value your cervix, you will not tease this man when he's not in the mood for sex

"What's wrong, baby? You were whining for my attention, now you're whining that it doesn't fit? That's a fucking lie."

Size kink

Likes feeling bigger/taller/stronger than you

Expect to be teased over this, even if you're not that short

Loves taking selfies with you

A big puppy

Can be a big scary puppy

Doesn't scold you in public

Likes it when you know you're in trouble

Sweetheart but will do a 180

When he's stressed or in a bad mood he can be too rough

Sometimes it's hard to tell when it's okay to be silly and not

He will let you know

Breeding kink at its finest

Size kink + breeding kink = RIP ur ability to walk

"I know it's deep baby, shh...almost there..."

Likes making you beg

Loves to degrade you and then praise you in the same breath

Talks you through it

Very sweet, silly aftercare

Sex is not complete until you're a giggling, sleepy mess in his arms

Fav position is anything where he can manhandle you beneath him

Yeosang

Quiet dom

But not soft

Very strict but is not loud about it

Perfect brat tamer, but isn't one (you can't rile him up—most intuitive of the members and rarely rises to the occasion)

Most of his dominant side is only seen when you're alone

Does not scold you in public

Expects you to follow the rules and does not remind you

Goes straight to punishment

You cannot catch him off guard

Knows your moods before you do

Terrifyingly calm

"Is that how we're acting today? Okay."

Likes to edge you

Loves when you orgasm as soon as his cock goes in due to overstimulation

^ will continue fucking you anyway

Thinks you're prettiest when you're crying

"That good, huh? You're blushing baby...such pretty tears."

Fucks you sitting up, likes it when you cling to him and wants to feel your tears on his shoulders

Eye contact >>>

So fucking calm it's scary, truly

Like imagine you've fucked up in public and you know it, this mf just gives you the gentlest of smiles

He likes you anxious

Sex is deceptively rough

You would not expect it but he likes it to hurt

He wants you to fight back

That grip strength is not to be taken lightly

Fav position is missionary or in a car with you in his lap

Aftercare is pretty strict, he has a routine

Bathroom, water, bed, letting him hold you

Prioritizes you afterwards since he knows he can be rough

Wants you to tell him about your day as though he didn't just rail you into next tuesday

San

Very traditional dom vibes

Does not hold back on punishments like hwa

Expect an equal amount of praise and correction, heavily values both

Big on body worship, either you on him or vice versa

Will want you to kiss his chest and shoulders and remind him how safe he makes you feel

Protective, but not possessive

Best dom for daddy issues

Will tell you he's proud of you but fuck you into the mattress a few minutes later

^ while still telling you he's proud of you

Most fair punishments, typically physical but not cruel

Spankings, being made to take it on the floor, being tied down, etc etc

Loooooves tying you up

Huge on boundaries and safewords

All the members are but San prefers constant check ins

"How are we, baby? Can you still take it? Use your words, pretty girl."

Sex lasts a loooooong time from foreplay to aftercare

Like, expect to spend an entire evening in the bedroom

Only because he loves to warm you up beforehand with a few orgasms

Loves it when you orgasm

Edging is not necessary, he wants you to have as many as possible until you're overstimulated

Follows your lead during aftercare, whatever you need

"Did so good for me. What do you need from me, baby? A massage? I can do that. Love you so much. Did so well tonight."

Will let you sit in his lap while he works

Likes it when you tease him, but won't punish you right away

Makes you wait for it

"Hi baby. Remember what you did earlier? Let's figure out how to make you say sorry without words."

Fav positions are you in his lap or lying on the counter/table

Mingi

BRAT TAMER

and loves it

Will encourage you to act out just so he can punish you

Literally begging for a reason

"Please baby. Tell me no one more fucking time. The kitchen table is right there and I'm hard as fuck."

Mean and you love it

Is going to bend you over any surface when you give him the slightest inclination that you're about to act up

Effortlessly attractive, actually unfair

Genuinely does not know how wet you are simply because he's pinning you down

Lives for his own pleasure and you're along for the ride

DO NOT think he doesn't care about you getting off tho—

—and do not let that man's mouth near your pussy if you know what's good for your health

Addicted to eating you out

Mingi demands few things of you as his sub, but allowing him to ravish your pussy is a requirement

You WILL sit on his face and you WILL cry and he WILL hold your hips so you can't squirm away while he sucks your clit and makes you cum for the third time

Uses it as both a reward and punishment

That overstimulation will have you in tears

He does not care

Sex lasts a little longer than average simply because you have to pry him off of you

Impatient when it comes to you and your attitude

Punishment is always physical

Loves to spank you for misbehaving

Not the kinkiest but probably the most hypersexual of the members

LOUD sex

Aftercare is not really organized but still very involved. Expect kisses, a very clingy man, and cuddling

Loves you with your clothes on too

Can forget to give you praise, but shows you he's proud in his own ways

"You made this? Holy shit, it's amazing. My baby can cook??"

Kissing the top of your head, just because he can >>>>

Does not scold you in public—probably has not realized you've done something that warrants scolding

Is possessive and VERY jealous

Like Hongjoong, he knows when to turn it off if you need him to be gentle with you

Wooyoung

A fucking? brat dom?

Will ignore you for attention

You can't outbrat the brat

Big on silent treatment as long as he thinks you can emotionally handle it

Very touchy feely, likes grabbing you and holding you against him

Has a range of looks to give you to tell you when you've fucked up

Hates when other men stare at you, will absolutely stare back

Loves PDA the most out of the members

Does not care if you're in public, will scold you when needed

Will also tease you just to see you squirm

Is not above things like vibrating panties when you've been acting up

Loves to use his hands during punishment or praise

Expect handprints on your ass

May as well get them tattooed on there tbh

Whiny when he wants your attention

Can sometimes be too much

"Are you okay? Was that too hard?"

Likes to make you cry

Enjoys pissing you off since you can't do anything about it

Imagine getting fucked daily by your biggest opp

"Aww, are you mad? Huh? I can tell. Cry me a river while you take this cock, baby."

a menace, tbh

Sex is kinky af

DIRTY TALK mf won't shut up as it is and rambles when he's inside you

"Take it, baby. That's it, just like that. So fucking pretty. You just open those legs when I come near, huh? An obedient little slut when she expects cock."

Not super long sex but can happen multiple times a day

Possessive and jealous

Takes lots of pictures of you

^ Doing anything

"Hold still, I'm taking a pic. Can you tilt your head? Your toothbrush is in the way."

Aftercare is forehead kisses and praise, whining when you have to get up.

Big heart, loves giving you compliments and seeing you shine

Is infinitely proud of you and will not stop telling you so

Likes to do domestic things with you like cooking

Takes you on cute little dates rather than big fancy dinners

Do NOT let him hear you talking bad about yourself

Jongho

Loves being a dom the most

Similar to San, very straightforward, traditional dom

Unlike San, has a cruel streak

Basically a combination of Hongjoong and San

He feels the best when he spoils you

Wants you to buy anything you want

Obsessed with you fr

Wants to make love to you any time he can

Will pin you down but...romantically??

Master of seduction, likes you warm and ready for him

Takes you to fancy dinners and then fucks you in the car on the way home

Loves having his cock worshipped by you

Can eat pussy but prefers seeing your lips wrapped around him

Calls you good girl more than anything

"Did you take your medicine this morning? Good girl."

Isn't jealous at all

Doesn't have to be, he knows you're his

When he catches other men staring at you he feels proud like "yeah, she's mine."

Extremely physically affectionate but only in private

Gentlemanly in public, his hand is usually at the small of your back

In private he just wants to hold you

Loves picking you up

Will pet your hair and pull you in for kisses while he asks about your day

Loves your hair btw

Like, wrapped around his insane grip while he fucks you from behind

Dirty talk

"That's it, baby. Look so pretty like this. You've been wet all day, huh? Just waiting for me to get home and make it better? How many times did you touch that pussy thinking of me?"

Not super kinky, but sex is still intense

Does like to blindfold you occasionally

Likes it when he comes home from work to find you naked in bed, where you're supposed to be

"Is this for me?" he'll ask, sliding his hand over your bare ass.

Doesn't even get fully undressed before he's inside you, he's only impatient when it comes to you

Breeding kink but AUTHENTIC. Like, wants you pregnant (only when you're ready) will probably find you absolutely irresistible when pregnant

Aftercare is whatever you need but will always include water and cuddles

Very protective of you, scolds you for being clueless at times

"Why the hell did you take an uber? You should've just called me. Who knows what kind of people are out there!"

Will get angry with you but you're literally the gem of his life, he treasures you more than anything

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theoreticallybread · 2 days ago

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i genuinely believe that if not for bruce, dick and steph are the ONLY batkids that would have taken up crimefighting.

dick’s entire origin story is filled with rage and despair, he watched his parents fall to their deaths and learned that they had been brutally murdered because of something that wasn’t even their fault! his pure rage fueled his creation of robin. even if bruce hadn’t taken him in, i can tell you that he would have gone after his parents’ killer himself, and probably wouldn’t have stopped trying to rid gotham of crime even as he matured and grew a sense of empathy towards all victims. dick was already the angry robin, it only makes sense that he would have done something even without the cape.

no matter what anyone else says, jason was NOT violent. he loved being robin with all his heart because it gave him magic. it is clear to me that he hated the thought of harming innocent people especially through his time at ma gunn’s place because of his resistance to the thought of being turned into a hurting machine like the other boys. and yet as soon as bruce takes him in, he becomes just that: a child soldier. if bruce had not taken jason in, i think he would have been much happier. he knows that the deaths of his mother and father, while tragic, are not something he needs to avenge, and all he looks for afterwards is food and a roof over his head. he is not a character built on revenge, he is introduced to the concept by bruce when he is trained to defeat evil with his fist rather than his words. jason would have been an amazing teacher if he wasn’t red hood, and he would be able to help people in crime alley just the same, by providing support and a good foundation for them to accomplish things.

tim drake did not want to be robin. the only reason he ever became robin was because he needed to protect everyone who faced the wrath of an angry bruce. he is an observant person and he noticed how much harder bruce was hitting after jason’s death. he knew that bruce needed someone else out there with him to stabilize him and prevent him from doing something he’d regret. tim tried to get dick to fill that role, but when he refused tim took it upon himself instead. he’s responsible like that. tim drake most likely would’ve been a successful businessman if he wasn’t a cape because of his smarts and ability to read people.

steph is the only other robin i believe would have still worn a cape if not for bruce. she found out about her father’s wrongdoings and immediately her sense of justice told her that she needed to stop this from happening. she would be unable to stop herself from trying to protect innocent people with or without bruce, just because of her absolute need to do the right thing.

cassandra and damian are similar in the fact that they were raised as human weapons and weren’t allowed to be their own individual people. i firmly believe that they would have managed to break free of their oppressors even without bruce’s existence for talia to rely on in regards to damian. after so much time spent fighting and being used, i think they would have tried to find an identity outside of this. they probably would’ve have ended up as similar people to the ones they are with bruce in the picture, but i doubt that they would have continued to fight as much outside of absolute necessity because of the bad memories surrounding it. if they did fight, it would be in self defense and for themselves, not in accordance with what someone else wanted them to do.

duke is complicated, because while he does have a great sense of justice and is also a meta, i don’t think he would have continued to pursue the path of a vigilante for very long. i haven’t read a ton of stuff with duke, but i think i can safely say that he would have taken a step back from everything to support himself and take care of his parents after what the joker did to them. he probably would have taken up a career that involved aiding people in a more peaceful way, similar to jason.

anywho thanks for coming to my ted talk :)

#batman #bruce wayne #nightwing #dick grayson #red hood #jason todd #red robin #tim drake #robin #damian wayne #black bat #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #signal dc #spoiler dc #duke thomas

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whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst · 3 days ago

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I hate this but I LOVE it

Because all of these years have built up to this, the culmination of the “Adam style” problem between Leo and Adam.

First season, Leo is shocked by Adam’s way of doing things but is so happy to have him back, he pretty much lets him do whatever. Things are so tentative that Leo just goes along with things, especially since he’s still processing that his best friend is even alive as well as his own perceived failures as a cop.

In the second season he is exasperated and frustrated by Adam’s refusal to involve him in his father drama, but out of fear he still largely lets it all go and defers to Adam until the showdown in the forest, where Adam arguably hits his lowest point in terms of the Adam style—and it horrifies Leo. Adam looks horrified himself by what he’s almost done, by what he’s forced Leo to do. All the same, considering it’s Roland-related, we know he’ll forgive Adam.

In the third season, Leo strays into trying the Adam style himself a bit in the investigation, but is largely able to justify his actions to himself and Esther in the name of saving Adam, and even involves Pia; it’s still to do with Roland, so Leo simultaneously feels a lot of guilt and no guilt about doing things Adam’s way, but maybe he also feels here like he doesn’t have the right to criticize Adam’s choices.

In the fourth season, he’s back in denial about Adam doing things on his own even as he knows Adam’s doing it, even as he knows Adam is keeping things from him, because everything that happened to Adam has made him feel guilty and tired—but he’s also getting weary of being left out, and the sense that Adam doesn’t trust him and maybe doesn’t reciprocate his care is wearing Leo down.

So in the fifth season, it’s mixed—we start with a terrible break between them at the lake, but after the little old lady’s car crash, Leo tries to adopt Adam’s style impulsively in a fit of righteous anger, with mixed results. However, by the end, there’s been a little peace made, because he’s realized that even if Adam does things his way, he does care about Leo and wants to protect him, so there’s an understanding.

Finally, in EdN, during a case that eventually involves his own team, we see that Leo has accepted Adam’s style, albeit within limits; he won’t let Adam turn off the camera during interrogation, but tacitly allows Adam to follow the suspect afterwards, and warns him of danger but doesn’t try to stop him doing things.

So here at the end of this season, we have a full circle moment, because Leo thought his friend was dead at the beginning and here Adam clearly is terrified that Leo could be dead he’s not allowed to be, I say so and as everyone’s been commenting, it’s Adam’s reckoning with his whole approach to things. Also, the irony has to be hitting him that it’s really only after Leo finally comes to terms with Adam’s way of doing things that it ends up hurting him in a potentially life threatening way. I bet between the events of now and next season, Adam is going over that case obsessively from start to finish (and Pia too, probably) trying to figure out what he could have done differently, if doing things Leo-style would have changed this outcome.

Because as people are noting, he’s never dealt with the possibility that Leo could be dead—in danger, sure, in FdG, and that’s where we see Adam get the closest to regretting his own methods, because of how they’ve influenced Leo’s. But all the same, even when Leo’s made it clear that Adam’s style of doing things has hurt him emotionally, it’s never been like this. It’s never been something that they can’t come back from. Leo has been Adam’s constant, a safe harbor, and now he has to consider whether his actions, his stubbornness about doing things “his way” and keeping people at an arm’s length, have effectively cost him the person he loves the most.

I think any “Adam style” analysis links up really effectively with the brilliant “he loves me, he loves me not” analysis by @justanotherprofessionalfangirl be sure to check it out!!!

Tatort Saarbrücken: DAS ENDE DER NACHT (2025) Adam und seine Verstärkung

#tatort saarbrücken #spatort #adam schürk #leo hölzer #das ende der nacht

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wrtzia · 2 days ago

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Carl Grimes - headcanon

Bf!Carl Grimes x Reader

ஐ〰ฺ･::･✿ฺ ஐ〰･::･･::･✿ฺ ஐ〰･::･･::･✿ฺ ஐ〰･::･ஐ〰ฺ･::･✿ฺ ஐ〰･::･･::･

Bf!Carl who loves to cuddle you. In public he will simply hold your hand or put his arm around your shoulder. But when it’s just the two of you, you can be sure he won’t let go of you, even for a second.

Bf!Carl who lets you wear his flannel, since he knows how much you like to. And he loves the way they’re too big for you, or the way you style them by hanging it around your waist.

Bf!Carl who, everytime you come back from outside of Alexandria, makes sure to check your whole body to make sure there isn’t any bite or scratch. If he finds any blood anywhere, he makes sure to disinfect it and to bandage it, making sure it’s all taken care of, even if it’s nothing.

Bf!Carl who tries to break up with you after he lost his eyes because he hates the way he looks and doesn’t want you to see him like he sees himself. After a failed attempt to break up, the boy sobbed in your arms as you reassured him, telling him how he was still the prettiest in your eyes.

Bf!Carl who lets you change his bandage, even though he hates the thought of someone seeing his eye. And each time he reminds himself that it’s just you, you who loves him, you who always takes care of him.

Bf!Carl who makes you sleep in his room, not liking being alone or letting you alone. He wants to make sure you’re safe if something happens during the night, and if you two are sleeping together, he can protect you. (and he get to put his head on your chest and to hug you tight)

Bf!Carl who, during the lineup, was looking at you as much as possible, trying to be discreet, just to be sure you’re okay and to let you know he’s here. When Negan isn’t looking, he grabs your hand to let a little squeeze before letting go.

Bf!Carl who could die for you. He loves you more than anything, the only person he puts above you being Judith, and he makes sure you know it.

Bf!Carl who goes out when it’s soon your birthday or Valentine day to grab you a gift. And if he can’t find anything, he creates something himself, often a pearl bracelet or fake paper flowers.

Bf!Carl who always puts his head on your lap and pretend to sleep since he knows that you'll braid his hair, thinking he is deep asleep. And when he will 'wake up', the boy will pretend to be upset even though the feeling of your hands in his hair is his favorite. But he can't let you know that.

Bf!Carl who, when he gets bitten, makes sure to have you by his side but doesn’t let you put him down, even though you want to. He doesn’t want it to be your last image of him. So before leaving forever, he takes you in his arms, kisses your forehead, and tells you how much he loves you. “Remember I will always be with you. Take care of you, okay ? I’ll know if you don’t.” and with shaky hands, he wipes your tears away from your soft cheeks. “I love you.”

ஐ〰ฺ･::･✿ฺ ஐ〰･::･･::･✿ฺ ஐ〰･::･･::･✿ฺ ஐ〰･::･ஐ〰ฺ･::･✿ฺ ஐ〰･::･･::･✿ฺ ஐ〰･::･･::･✿ฺ ஐ〰･::･ஐ〰ฺ･::･✿ฺ ஐ〰･::･･::･✿ฺ ஐ〰･::･･::･✿ฺ ஐ〰･:

Main masterlist

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yara0546 · 2 days ago

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Hey can you do 7dream love languages? 🧡

Nct dream | Their Love Language with You

Pairing: nct dream x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, relationship.

Note : English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any grammatical errors, because I sometimes use a translator in some sentences.

Disclaimer : This is a work of fiction from our imagination. It is not intended that the plot, theme, original characters, idols, etc. portray any real-life events/people. Plagiarism is NOT tolerated on this blog. If you believe we have copied an existing authors’ work, please message us privately. thank you and enjoy :)

Masterlist

Mark

Mark isn’t the best with expressing emotions, but when he realizes how much words mean to you, he makes an effort.

You sigh, looking out the window of your shared apartment. “Sometimes… I just wonder if I’m enough.”

Mark’s eyes widen, setting down his guitar. “What? What are you talking about? Of course, you are.”

You hesitate. “You don’t say it often. I know you care, but I just—”

Mark gently grabs your hands. “Hey. Listen to me. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I mean it. You make my days better, you’re my safe place. I love you, and I’ll remind you as many times as you need, okay?”

Your heart flutters at his sincerity. “Okay.”

He chuckles, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’ll say it every day if it makes you feel secure. Because you’re more than enough for me.”

Renjun

Renjun doesn’t always say how much he loves you—he shows it.

One evening, you come home exhausted, barely able to keep your eyes open. “Renjun, I—”

Before you can finish, he gently pushes you toward the couch. “Shh, just sit. I got this.”

You blink as he brings over a tray of hot soup, tea, and your favorite snacks. “You cooked?”

He nods, his ears turning red. “You’ve been working too hard. I don’t like seeing you so tired.”

You smile, touched by his thoughtfulness. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

He huffs, but his lips twitch into a smile. “Just eat. And don’t think of anything else, okay? I’ll take care of everything.”

Jeno

Jeno isn’t overly affectionate in public, but with you, he’s all about physical touch.

You sigh, rubbing your temples after a long day. Jeno notices immediately, pulling you into his arms. “Rough day?”

You nod against his chest. “Yeah.”

Instead of saying anything, he just holds you, rubbing soothing circles on your back. His warmth melts away your stress.

“You always know what I need,” you mumble.

He chuckles, resting his chin on your head. “That’s ‘cause I know you better than anyone.”

You close your eyes, letting yourself relax in his embrace. With Jeno, actions speak louder than words.

Haechan

Haechan believes love is best shown through time spent together.

“Let’s go out!” he announces one evening.

You glance up from your book. “Haechan, it’s late.”

“So? We can go get late-night snacks. Just you and me.”

You hesitate, but the sparkle in his eyes convinces you. Soon, you’re walking down the quiet streets, hand in hand.

Haechan grins, swinging your arms. “I just wanna be with you, you know?”

You smile. “Even if it’s just for snacks?”

“Especially if it’s for snacks,” he teases before his expression softens. “Nah, I just… love spending time with you. Doesn’t matter what we’re doing.”

Your heart swells with warmth. “Me too.”

Jaemin

Jaemin’s love language is a mix of touch and words.

One evening, you’re sitting beside him, feeling insecure. “Do you think I’m… good enough?”

Jaemin frowns and immediately pulls you into his lap. “What? Who put that thought in your head?”

You shrug. “I just… feel that way sometimes.”

He cups your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re perfect to me. And if anyone ever makes you doubt that, tell me so I can fight them.”

You giggle, but your heart flutters at his sincerity. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Only for you,” he says, pressing kisses to your forehead. “I’ll keep reminding you until you believe it.”

Chenle

For Chenle, love is shown through thoughtful gifts.

“Open it,” he says, handing you a beautifully wrapped box.

You blink in surprise. “But… it’s not a special occasion.”

He shrugs. “Who cares? I saw it and thought of you.”

You open the box to find a necklace with a charm shaped like something meaningful between you two. Tears prick your eyes. “Chenle… this is perfect.”

He grins. “Well, duh. I have good taste.”

You hug him tightly. “Thank you.”

He laughs but hugs you back. “I just want you to have little things that remind you of me.”

Jisung

Jisung is shy about affection, but he shows his love through time spent together and subtle touches.

One afternoon, he drags you to the practice room. “I want to teach you a dance.”

You pout. “But I’m terrible at dancing.”

He grins. “I’ll help you.”

As he guides you through the steps, his hands linger on your waist, keeping you steady. “See? You’re doing great.”

You laugh. “Only because you won’t let me fall.”

“Of course not,” he says softly, holding your hand tighter. “I’d never let you fall.”

Your heart skips a beat. Maybe dancing with Jisung isn’t so bad after all.

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svnriseblvdd · 20 hours ago

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AND FOR ONCE, YOU LET GO OF YOUR FEARS AND YOUR GHOSTS — dick grayson

hurt/comfort, slight angst (he's okay in the end), love confession, big steps in a relationship. when dick grayson stumbles through his girlfriend's window in the early hours of the morning, she's there to patch him up and listen to all that troubles him.

It’s some time after four in the morning when Dick Grayson finally steps through the window into your apartment. He shouldn’t be here. It’s not fair on you. He knows it’s not, but he can’t help himself.

He’s silent as he moves across your living room floor, still silent as he opens your bedroom door. He hates that he has to be here. He hates even more the fact that you left your living room window open a crack so he could come in. He’s closed it now, locked it and made sure all the security measures he’d installed for you were in place how they should be.

He doesn’t want to wake you, doesn’t want to disturb you as you look so peaceful in the comfort of sleep. He doesn’t even need to touch you. Well, he does. But he won’t. Not if it’ll wake you up.

He just needs to see you. Needs to know you’re safe, alive, breathing, content. He needs to sit in the comfort of the sound of your breathing, the smell of everything that’s so unequivocally you. The detergent on fresh sheets, your shampoo, shower gel, the remnants of your perfume lingering. Even the underlying scent of your worn shoes that just barely creeps through everything else.

He knows where not to step. Where floor creaks and where there’s little things hellbent on stabbing him in the foot. Not that they’d do a good job through the suit, but he won’t risk it.

But through all his manoeuvring, he bends just slightly too far the wrong way, and he’s hissing in pain.

You stir, and hum. He thinks for a moment that maybe it’s okay. Maybe that’s it. Maybe he hasn’t woken you up and ruined your sleep because he’s an idiot.

But he’s wrong. “Dick?” You mumble. “You there?”

He winces. Not at the annoying pain in his side, but because now you’re awake. It’s nearly 5:00 AM and you’re awake because he didn’t think.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s okay, honey, go back to sleep.”

“What time is it?”

He looks at the clock on your nightstand. The numbers on it glow faintly, almost accusatory. Oh, he knows.

“4:47,” he replies. “I’m sorry for waking you, baby.”

You push yourself up, eyes opening properly and taking in the sight of him. Your eyes are soft as you evaluate him, the redness of his cheek as a bruise begins to form, the cut above his eyebrow, the faint glow of the lenses of his mask, which he has yet to take off. “Dick-”

“Don’t worry about me, baby. I’m okay.”

You shake your head. “Come here.”

“’m dirty. You just washed your sheets.”

“I don’t care.” You stand from the bed, patting it. “Sit. Wait while I get the first aid kit.”

He gives in, sitting on the edge of the bed and waiting for your return. It’s not a long wait, but every second without you feels like agony. It’s worse than anything that happened tonight.

When you return, you sink onto the bed next to him, setting the kit down next to you. “Let me see those pretty eyes,” you whisper, lifting the mask from him. His beautiful blue eyes meet yours, and it hurts to see the sadness in them.

You dab at the cut above his eyebrow with an alcohol-dipped cotton pad. You know that nights like these, he needs time before he can open up about it. So you treat the cut on his brow, the bruise on his cheek. Then you begin pushing his suit down his shoulders and torso.

“If you wanted me out of my clothes that badly, all you had to do was ask,” he jokes, but it lacks the same tone he usually has. Dick flirts with you all the time. Even now that you’ve been together for almost a year. And he still holds the same charm that he did when you first met, when he first realised his feelings and decided he was going to ‘make a move’. But tonight, he doesn’t hold the same charm or humour in his voice.

“Dick…” you murmur. He’d spent far too long being valued by Gotham’s social elite and their tabloids only for his looks. He was gorgeous, there was no denying that, he was the most wonderful person you’d ever laid eyes upon. But he was far too used to being a performer, even through his worst times, laying on the charm thick as possible when he had to attend a gala that fell during some of the bad days.

You get the suit down to his waist, where you let it rest as you evaluate the bruises, cuts and scrapes on his chest and abdomen.

You begin cleaning a cut on his chest, wondering whether or not it’ll need stitches. “What happened?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.” At your expression, he sighs. “I just- my head wasn’t in it.”

“Then where was your head?” You ask, threading the needle. “Hm? Tell me what’s going on, Dick.”

“I just… don’t know if I’m enough,” he whispers.

Your expression turns softer still. “What? Dick, of course you are. You’re more than enough. If you ask me, you’re more than most of this city deserves.” He sniffs, still trying to hold in the tears. “Do you want me to numb it before I start the stitches?”

He shakes his head. “No. No, I can take it. It’s okay.”

You begin to sew the cut shut, back and forth, back and forth. It’s muscle memory by now, the number of times you’d stitched him up after a rough night. Never like this, though. Usually, even when he’d taken worse beatings, he could still crack jokes easily and he’d still lay on that Dick Grayson charm. Not tonight.

When you’re done, you lean down, placing soft kisses along the edge. You cover over a graze on his side, the one he’d irritated earlier that had led to you waking up.

“I’m sorry for waking you,” he says, voice heavy with regret and despair.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. It’s not. You have work.”

You shake your head. “No, I don’t. I’m taking the day off. Want to spend time with you.”

“You don’t have to do that. You shouldn’t. I’m not worth it.”

“You’re more than worth it, honey. Besides, I’ve had it booked since last week, so I can’t just take it back.” You reach up with one hand to cup his face, tilting his head to look at you. His eyes are filled with tears. “Oh, Dick, sweetheart.”

He breaks then. The tears spill over, and he collapses into your hold, your arms wrapping around him. He smells of blood, sweat, dirt, and smoke, but you don’t care one bit. You’ll hold him forever if that’s what he needs.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, over and over again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He lets out a sob. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, my love,” you assure him. “I promise you, that you’re more than enough. Do you trust me?” He nods. “Then trust that I’m telling you the truth.”

“Sometimes, it feels like I’m falling and I won’t ever stop.”

“I know, honey. But I’m here to catch you. I’ll always be here. You do so much for this city, for your team, your family, me. You work so hard, honey, and I know that it’s difficult. And I know you don’t feel like it’s enough sometimes but it is. You’re so good, Dick. You bring hope, safety, happiness. I know it’s a lot of responsibility, but you shoulder it so well. I just wish you didn’t feel like you had to take on everything. Sometimes you need a break, and that’s okay.”

“But who else protects Bludhaven?”

“That’s the problem, Dick. You take care of this all by yourself.”

“Bruce protected Gotham by himself.”

“Bruce hadn’t been Batman for nearly as long before you came along. Besides, he’s had help for years now. You handle Bludhaven, you still help in Gotham, you run the Titans. Hell, you help the Justice League from time to time. Even Bruce has bad times too. Even Batman struggles with his responsibilities. Both of you have yourselves convinced that you have to take on all this responsibility and pressure because if you don’t, you’re not worthy of love. But even with all that, neither of you think you’re enough. And I love you for your heroism and your courage and your goodness. I really do, but you need days off. You need time to just be Dick Grayson. Not Nightwing, not the Wayne heir, not the socialite the tabloids love. Just Dick. The same one who I fell for.”

He stops sniffling for a few seconds, just breathing irregularly. “You love me?” He whispers then, breaking the silence. He pulls back, your arms falling loosely to his sides. You hadn’t realised you’d said it.

“Yes,” you whisper back. “Yeah, I love you.”

“I love you too,” he says, hands cupping your face. “So much.”

You smile, and it’s the first time tonight that he’s smiled and it’s felt genuine. He kisses you, softly, lovingly, every inch of his soul poured into you. It’s such a simple kiss. Neither of you dare deepen it - you both know it’s not the time. It’s just ordinary, small, wet with his tears, but it’s the most wonderful, caring action.

“Do you want something to drink?” You ask, pulling away from him.

“No.”

“How about a bath? Or a shower?”

“No, I just want to hold you.”

You smile softly, nodding. “Let me find something for you to wear. It’s colder tonight.” You stand, moving around your room to find any of his clothes that he’s left behind. You think you might’ve run out of clean things of his in his allocated drawer. “It’s getting really difficult, working with only one drawer of your clothes.”

“Especially when you use my shirts to sleep in,” he comments.

“True.” You hum as you find a pair of his sweatpants, folding them over your arm.

“Maybe it would be easier if we just lived together,” he says.

You turn to him, now holding one of your baby tees, mistaken for a shirt of his. The words “I’m too sexy for this shirt” stare at him, standing out against the white cotton. “Do you mean it?” You ask.

“I do. I want us to live together. I love seeing our shoes next to each other when we stay together. I love seeing your things at my place. I love cooking together. I want to stay up late talking to you. I want to dance in the kitchen in the middle of the night. I want to come home to you.”

You smile, practically attacking him with the way you hug him. “I want all of that too.” You kiss his cheeks, then his forehead, then peck him on the lips before you roll off the bed to look for a t-shirt. You throw the items at him when you’ve found them.

When he’s changed, the two of you lay in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. And you look up at him while the first hints of the sunrise filter through the crack in the curtains.

You look up at him, and he meets your eyes, a loving smile on his face. “I love you, Dick Grayson. And I can’t stand to see you destroy yourself.”

“I love you too. I’ll stay together for you.”

#dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #muse: dick

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