#You gotta do a lot of coming up with stuff yourself
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Not my gif
Season 4 episode 10 spoilers (haven't finished this season)
this is Angst Angst Angst
| 3rd Person POV |
Y/n didn't even know what day it was, she been in her and jjs bed- well I guess just her bed now. Since they got back from Morocco, her mind couldn't wrap around the fact that her boyfriend since freshman year was gone. I mean he has to come back right? She thought everyone came back, Big John, ward, John b and Sarah they all came back.
She laid there for days just thinking about everything, thinking that when JJ looked to her on that island and asked "you wanna just stay here and never leave? Surf all day, catch fish, hook up whenever sounds good to me" with a big smile across his face she brushed him off but now she'd take it all back and say "yeah Jay let's stay here forever".
"she's been in there for 4 days we have to do something" John B said "what can we do?" Kie said "something" Sarah added "I'll make her food okay?" Pope said standing up. "Hey Y/n" he said softly peeking his head in the door, She wrapped up in JJs hoodie zoning out but reruns of they're favorite shows played. She slightly looked over at him "I brought you some food" he set it on her nightstand "you need anything else?" He added she shook her head, his hand went over the handle "thanks Pope" she whispered "yeah".
It turned dark out and it dead silent in the house now, she put her shoes on and grabbed her backpack. And slipped out the window of the room. She finally got to the liquor store "two 5th of you cheapest vodka please" she said and put a leader of Coke "ID" the woman asked Y/n pulled out her fake ID and handed it to her.
Now that was her thing crying and drinking the thought of him away. The times she would get up it would be to look at something else of jjs. This time she looked out her window, John B stood in front of a tree out front JJ Maybank craved into it she took her bottle and went outside. "hey y/n" she stood next to him "hey.." he looked down to see that bottle in her hand and the smell coming off her breath "how many have you gone through?" she shrugged he took the bottle from her softly "you shouldn't be doing that its a waste" "it makes me feel okay" "does it make you forget he's dead?" her eyes opened "no but I think I should punish myself a little for leaving him there alone" "JJ would understand why we left him okay? he wouldn't want you to punish yourself you gotta stop" he wrapped his arm around her "yeah I know I just- I don't know".
Y/n thought instead of dying for herself she was gonna live for JJ. The next day they took notice that Y/n was moving around cleaning her room, they went in not saying anything just helping her. they'd find things of JJs and set it aside slowly building a corner of all his stuff for her to look at through the day.
Y/n found herself every morning on the water surf for him, swimming for him and boating for him.
| 6 Years Later |
"this was your Uncle JJs board when he was you age" Y/n said pulling the board of of the surf shed her God son standing next to her "I don't know if I can use it, it's a lot bigger than mine" "you'll do great! grab the towels bubba" he hopped in the truck while Y/n loaded they're boards.
Y/n was sat straight on her board he was laying on his board "okay Jay this one coming is yours" she helped turn his board around, he went and stood up "YES JJ!" she yelled and clapped. she rode in "good job!" she smiled and gave him a high five "thanks" he smiled back.
"Uncle JJ surf like all the time?" he asked strawberries covered his face "yeah even one time him and your dad went surfing in a hurricane it was dumb but they loved it" "sounds fun" "no JJ never do that" "I think I like the beach as much as Uncle J" she smiled and felt tears raise in her eyes "I think you do to" she ruffled his hair making him giggle.
#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank x reader#jj mayback imagine#jj maybank angst#jj angst#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x reader fluff#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#outer banks fic#jj maybank fic#jj maybank
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Oh my actual Lord, the dream’s come true. O_O
*Kicks down door* OH THUNDERCRACKEEER~
BUSTER’S ‘BOUT TO GETTA NEW FRIEEEND~ (´∀`)//🐱
He’s got a pet human now too, I guess—
Why my dumb human ass, with my crappy art, could almost wish upon an evil shootin’ star, that it was me instead “What?” What—? 😶
Alright. Now we just need Skywarp to get one. Or two. Or a few. Someday. Maybe.
Um—
*Whispers* Psst, hey, Megs, I don’t wanna be that betch—I make unintentional mistakes I gotta edit for my sanity all the time—but, it’s “What do you say”. That’s probably why they’re givin’ ya looks.
I mean, that’s pretty accurate Megatron dialogue ngl. Like this is the same guy that said in G1 “Power flows to the one who knows how”, as if that was an actual full sentence.
Ik, that’s beside the point of what the frag’s goin’ on, so, “respectfully” (with heavy emphasis on the quotation marks)—
Can ya just…rip out your own chain-smoker soundin’ aft voice box, and shove it? Pretty please? Mr. Geneva Suggestions?
“YoU kNoW tHe LiMiTs Of My PoWeR! i NeEd SoMeOnE tO wIElD mE!”
“But my leader, you have your fusion cannon—”
“Do NoT qUeStIoN mE sTaRsCrEaM!”
Unless Skybound’s gonna give us a “good” aft explanation for this, like some Cybertronian gunformer curse we dunno about yet (given the serious corruption goin’ on, from the looks of it, with Star and Op)—
I would say more about Megs’ gun mode as an effective concept, but I’ll save all that for another post.
Instead I’ll just spout out this scrap to review:
Most explanations are welcome for why villains do what they do, even if it’s just “Cuz I’m evil”. 😈
(TF One Sentinel tho…yeah. Gotta make a post regarding him as well)
Here, they wanna save their home planet as energy sources dwindle.
Ok, so resources. Got it. Yes. #1 reason why wars are fought, and wars need soldiers to fuel ‘em. Enemies turned potential recruits who are prisoners don’t comply? Well, logically speaking then— 🤡
Or maybe, just maybe—this might sound crazy, but—how about not start a whole goddamn war that will worsen this crisis, Megs?
How about not turn fellow Cybertronians into the worst versions of themselves, and delete their innocence? Cuz great, now ya created a monster that will betray ya!
Ask yourself: What the frag are you fighting for?
Cuz you’re just makin’ the problem worse, mate.
At least Jetfire tried to look beyond Cybertron peacefully for a solution, which despite how well that went, sounded a helluva lot better than exhaustive in-fighting, but no, frag exploration.
Frag trading with “filthy” organic alien species.
Frag experimenting for new sources of energy (lookin’ at you, Shockwave. Now I know your aft was enabled).
Frag examining Cybertron’s history for answers.
Frag speaking with Optimus like a civilized individual.
Population control’s where it’s at, apparently. ಠ_ಠ)
Jesus, so many questions NOT ENOUGH DEETS.(╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻
WE NEED MORE FLASHBACKS STAT.
Skybound Megs so far, is coming off as a guy who, when the worst happens, will just use the situation/impending apocalypse to his advantage to do terrible stuff, and get away with it through all the chaos.
Furthermore, it’s like we’re watching him live out some sick fantasy of his while he’s all “This is for the greater good of Cybertron!”. Like no bitch! There’s other options! You have no excuse!
You wanna be a pred, who kills for pleasure and power, while demanding to share that experience with others with or without their consent.
There. That’s what kept me up last issue.
Well, this is one moral of this ongoing story, and life advice I guess:
BEWARE THE F*CKIN’ NICE ONES!
For they may be the worst of all. Great…
*Proceeds to pollute my sketchbook with more Megatron art cuz I am indeed that betch*
#frag this comic’s so good#i actually can’t fraggin’ believe that star was a cat lover all along#*jumps for fraggin’ joy*#what a twist#it’s canon now#i thought that was out of the question after what happened with rav 😭#dwj be like: say no more ✏️#gotta come up with a name quick star#so i can tag it dammit!#maccadam#transformers#my art#tf skybound#tf skybound spoilers#energon universe#energon universe spoilers#starscream#megatron#skybound megatron#skybound starscream#tf jetfire#tf skyfire#skybound optimus prime#skybound optimus#tfeu#tfeu spoilers#maccadams
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Of course I’ve become attached to skinny ferret 19 and his fellow (literally) tortured souls of Echo. In order these are:
Daniel Gallegos - Skinny ferret: 19, chronic bad taste in men (wanted to fuck the smelly meth bear. I mean, his 2020 Arches version? I get it, but man it was 2014, you know he was in his nasty Echo era), nearly shared a grave with the Chunt Timothy Esposito - The buff breath play Skunk, really like his design, pity what happened to him (seen with Daniel and Benjamin by Cameron in the trailer) Benjamin Kowalski - The straight guy after some weed Keith - Brian’s only real ex Allen - The rat that drowned in his own vomit that Cameron saw at the end of Arches Rachel - Duke’s wife who died paying off a debt to Brian Unnamed Freshman - The cold open victim of Arches. I showed the picture of his paw to my vet friend and he guessed “Black-Tailed Jackrabbit” so I went with it I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone draw these characters, so I took it upon myself. Tried to make them unique to eachother and give them their own personalities, even when all I have to work with is “rat named Allen, ate bar food once”
#echo vn#echo arches#my art#daniel Gallegos#Benjamin Kowalski#Timothy Esposito#Echo Keith#echo spoilers#arches spoilers#when drawing such increadibly minor characters#at some point they become your own#You gotta do a lot of coming up with stuff yourself#I just want them to be okay (task impossible)
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as a writer how do you stop thinking about like getting kudos/comments? I've just started writing fanfic, and when I start a writing something -- it goes well and then eventually I get to point where I'm like "ahh but what the readers don't like that? or what if I don't get as many kudos or comments" and it makes it difficult to continue because then it becomes stressful -- I guess how do you deal with "wanting to write stuff for yourself" and "wanting validation" thanks!
You're going to hate this answer, because I hated it too, but TIME. When you first start writing and you get kudos and comments and people love what you're doing, it's a huge validation of your effort and talent, and it's natural that you want MORE of it. When I first started putting up fics I already had been writing for 15+ years, knew I was good at it, and still for a good few years found myself really glued to the hit counter, and the kudos, and wondering how I'd be able to get people to comment the same way they did on things like Seven Suitors.
But the thing is that commenting comes and goes in waves, and unless a fandom has a big comment culture, or is large enough that you're guaranteed a good glut of them every time you post...you're going to hit a point where you write exactly what everyone wants and get crickets. And at that point you'll get ANNOYED, because LOOK, I MADE THIS, i made it for YOU GUYS, and now y'all don't have anything to say? It'll get to you. It'll make you doubt that you know what anyone wants at all. It'll happen and it'll suck the whole time.
Lots of advice will say "write for yourself," which is an excellent sentiment. You should always write what YOU want. Put into your fic what you want to see, write the nitpicky poetic metaphors and craft the most screwball twists your heart desires. Pour yourself into the most niche AUs and most tin-hat canon theories. At the end of the day, you want the IDEAS you put down to be for you, because comments and kudos are nice, but if they don't come...you have to be proud of what you put out, even when it feels like an echo chamber.
But also...we don't POST things for ourselves. We post things to share. Fic are a conversation with canon and it is perfectly natural to want to create something that creates conversation among other fans. So you're never going to fully get the need for validation out of your head, you're not. You can hide hit counts and ignore your inbox all you like, but the want to have someone interact with your work, to inspire someone to reach out to you will ALWAYS be there. You just have to create a healthier relationship with it.
Be confident in what you write. Think less about whether people will like it, and more about how you WANT them to react. The reader is the most important character in any novel, but it's the one most authors forget to manage. When you come to a point where you go "oh man, I hope this is good for them!" stop and go, "what do I *want* them to be feeling here?" Focus on where you're putting their attention and whether you WANT it there. There's so much you can do when you visualize your relationship with the reader as PART of the work, and it takes off a lot of the pressure of "is this good? is it disappointing? will this get me validation?" and brings it back into the realm of storytelling. You are taking your reader on a journey, and when you do it well people will think less about "did I like that?" and more about "what comes next?"
#asks#writing advice#writing#please understand nonnie that what you are feeling is completely natural and part of the process#and shades of that will stick with you no matter how good you get#but the thing you want to keep in the center of your mind when it comes to that#is that you can only get kudos once on a fic and you are lucky to get a 1:100 comment vs hits ratio#so the instant validation WILL dry up and you'll have to have something about your story#that makes you push through. because people will come back and comment!#people will blow through 50+ chapter and leave you the most emotionally hungover review promising you their first borns#but sometimes you will have written a good third of them with NO feedback whatsoever#and you just have to trust in yourself that it's good. it's FINE#i used to obsessively check hits and be really put out to see how many people were coming and not commenting#especially when i wrote really emotionally driven stuff and really tore myself up to get those feelings through#but i also would have been miserable only writing fluffy 1 or 2 shots with no plot just to get the flush of comments those fics get#you just gotta do what you gotta do and let your audience find you. recontextualizing the relationship helps a LOT#i already was big on focusing on the meta plot of my works because as i said. 15+ years. had a lot of time to experiment and get good#but i still had to like. give myself the same pep talk 2 years in about how to view that relationship#everyone goes through it and if they say they don't they're a liar and i mean that seriously 🤣
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❝ TIL’ YOU DROP ! ❞
ᥫ᭡. featuring : gojo s. , geto s. , choso k. , toji f.
synopsis : classic overstimulation with jjk men.
tags : smut, p in v, fingering, squirting ( geto’s ), size kink, dacryphilla, hair pulling, dirty talk, cream pie, unprotected sex, cursing, all lowercase intended !
☆ GOJO SATORU
“ a sight i���ll never get sick of…” gojo snickers to himself. taking in the sight of his sticky cum that he plastered on the display and dips of your back. some ropes of cum trickle from your spine to the crack of your ass.
his cerulean eyes then travel back to your small body; shaking from the aftershock of your orgasm. “ tsk tsk, hope yer’ not too fucked out for me…” his big hand made home on your hip, while his other tapped your swollen mound with his tip.
all senses came crashing back to you when he slowly, but surely stuffs himself back in the expanse of your cunt. “ satoru…” your kiss-bruised lips grunt out. every nerve of your body felt like it was alive and blazing on fire.
sticky fat globs of cum trickles down to the base of your plump ass to your thighs and everytime satoru’s sharp thrust align with your body; a loud sticky ‘ pap’ sound resonates loudly throughout the room and his ears. impossibly turning him on even more.
“ haah, t-turning me on even more. think you can handle five more rounds after tis’?” one of satoru’s legs are propped up, so he’s able to maintain his rhythm and dive into your pussy even further. creating more of an absolute mess out of you.
“ mmph— oh fuuuck! i—it’s too much, s-stop!” your body moves on its own and one of your legs fly up to slap satoru in the ass. but gojo’s firm hand slides down to still your ankle against the bed, while the rocks of his hips doesn’t stop even for a moment. grounding you completely on the bed so you won’t think to run away.
the feeling of him stirring your insides up and leaving your brain a mushy mess is enough to fill your clouded eyes with salty tears. a particularly wet sob catches the man’s attention, and he lets your ankle go to tug at your hair.
“ you crying on me, princess?” his cocky voice booms above you, and through your unintelligible sounds your mouth makes, you beg him to shut up. the bed jostles and creaks with every mind shattering thrust he gives you.
you couldn’t contain yourself any longer, a particular thrust of his has your vision brightening and you cumming on all ten inches of him with a loud scream followed by you collapsing on the bed. despite your body tapping out on him, satoru’s pace didn’t rest for second, but his lips curled down into a faux frown.
“ we gotta fix that stamina of yours, princess.” he pouts at your body twitching from the overstimulation and rocking under him with every push of his hips. despite his expression, he fucking adores the sight of you helped underneath him, and at his will.
his nails dig deep into the fat of your ass, before he rocks you and the headboard forward with a loud moan. satoru comes a lot. if you weren’t on the pill, it would be no doubt that you’d be pregnant with a good handful of his children by now.
“ hey, yer’ not sleep yet? guess we can do another round.”
☆ GETO SUGURU
“ s-stop! suguru, stop. it’s— ’s too much!” you’re words are punctured from your throat with deep gasps and moans. a tight pressure builds in your lower stomach with every electrifying thrust suguru gives with his fingers.
your nerves feels as if they’re on fire and your body desperately screams for a break. but his arm shows no signs of stopping or slowing down; muscles flexing, hair messily sprawled around him, his bottom lip caught in between his teeth.
“ gonna squirt f’me yet?” suguru asks, the evident of your past orgasms trickling down his forearm. every movement of his fingers feels more alive than the last, and every touch against your g-spot has your vision brightening and the coil in your stomach tightening.
his fingers curling and thrusting are the only thing that your mushed brain can comprehend. “ h-haaah, it’s dirty… m’ gonna- gonna piss!” your hips tremble, but suguru’s hand is braced firmly on your waist. his pace doesn’t relent.
his fingers easily glides in and out of your wet, gummy warmth easily. your moans and the uncontrollable actions of your legs increases; still so sensitive of the last orgasms suguru gave you and the ones to come yet.
“ we’ll take a bath and clean the bedsheets. hmm?” he sprinkles the dips of your collarbone in lighthearted kisses. that damned unhinged grin still plastered on his face. you grab desperately onto his hair, eyes fluttering back into your head and mouth hung open.
“ fuh— fuck!” your hips still along with your legs when you feel your pussy spray like an open faucet.
“ there she goes. told you, you could do it.” he eyes the beauty of your fluids going everywhere, your thighs contracting and twitching from your post-orgasm.
your slick arousal is everywhere. his arm, your legs, the bedsheets, everywhere.
he gives your wet cunt a soft spank before licking the rest coating his hand. through your weakened state, you watch him.
“ proud that you can keep up with me, baby.” he removes his now spit coated fingers with a loud wet pop sound. “ think you can still squirt on my cock?”
☆ CHOSO KAMO
“ h-haah. c-choso— baby, don’t think i can do it. ‘s too much!” you hiss out. you both fucked multiple times before, but to say you’re fully used to it, would be a stretch.
“ that’s it, baby. fuuuck, k-keep rocking your hips like that.” choso said, completely ignoring your desperate pleas to stop. his calloused hands traveled down to plant firmly on your hips, holding you in a way in which you can’t escape.
“ jus’ for you, cho.” you mutter out, before the action of you bouncing up and down on his lap increases viciously. the sinful sounds of your skin clashing down against his, all eight inches of him stirring up your insides, and both of your sweet moans combined together, sounded like a erotic song that choso would never get tired of hearing.
“ yea… that’s right,” he occupied his finger with the task of drawing tight circles on your twitching clit. he smiles in realization when you choke out a wet sob. “ just for m-me. all f’me.”
“ cho—mmph, choso!” your mouths hang ajar dumbly, nails planted firmly in his pecs; using him as the only thing holding you upright despite your weak knees. the way how your body trembled and shook, choso could tell you were close to passing out.
“ hm, that won’t do…” choso darkly mutters out before his hands resume their place on your hips. his grip boarding on painfully but your mushed brain can’t dwell on the pain. his feet planted securely on the bed, and his hips thrust up to meet your bounces.
the new depth of his dick molding your insides; kissing your cervix sweetly sent you on the brink of tears. “ ohh fuck! ‘s too much— i can’t, i can’t!” you babble out, salty tears rolling down your cheeks proving your pleading.
despite your desperate cries; you still bounce and down on his cock with his extra help. the wetness from pervious orgasms and his hips jerking up made the process easier yet still so unbearable. “ you can. like you said, it’s just for me.”
your eyes meet in deathly lock and from the way his pace increases you suspect that he’s close. “ squeezing me so tight… shit, ‘m so close, baby.” his hips growing sloppier by the minute. desperate to bring you to the high you deserve.
and with one more mouth watering thrust of his tip that he delivers against your g-spot; you come on him with a choked moan. your body goes slack against his but choso is not too far behind.
“ don’t tap out on me now— oh god.” you feel his dick twitching viscously in your warm walls. you feel a great warmth flood your insides and leak out onto your inner thighs and on his pelvis. your stuffed so silly of him.
☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO
“ toji— m-move! jus’ came!” you gradually panted out before swatting his hand away from your lower body. you feel his dick twitch eagerly inside you.
toji fingers tighten against your throat as a warning, before he manhandles you into a mating press.
you gasp at new feeling of him entering you even deeper. “ f—fuck you! damn… tyrant!” toji leisurely grins above you. and from the new angle; the lighting traces and enchants his sharp features even more. “ you already are,” he begins to snap his lower hips against your thighs.
“ ‘nd from the way this dirty cunt is clenching on me so tightly…” he dips his head down to where his scarred lip brushes against the shell of your ear. “ you fuckin’ love it, sweetheart.” his words sends hot pangs of pleasure to your heat, mostly accompanied by the sharp thrust of his hips.
toji can feel his own dick twitch inside of you. you’re so fucking tight— milking him tight and holding him snug deep inside. the lewd sound of him slamming inside of you resonates in the room, but the fucked out dumb look on your face is obscene.
“ tuh— toooji!” is the only thing your brain can comprehend. with your mouth hung open and eyes rolled so far in the back of your head. “ yer’ close already? tsk, barely broke the bed on this good pussy.” he says, deciding to completely ignore the evidence of your past fluids mixed together on the wrinkled sheets below.
toji’s broad body envelopes your smaller one completely. the sight of your feet on either side of his shoulder is the only sign of life underneath him.
your legs twitch, your wall spasms around toji, sucking him in and in and in. his sharp eye notices the bulge of your belly and with his calloused hand pressing down on it, is enough to come over the edge with a shrill cry.
“ haah, you seriously came without me fucking your clit?” he barks out a cruel laugh that echoes in your ears. and you desperately want him to shut up.
through your heated gaze you notice his abs contracting and twitching— a signal that he’s coming close. as if the bruising grip on your hips didn’t serve as an reminder either. “ fuck girl… ya’ really drivin’ me crazy…”
his sweaty bangs press against your equally sweaty forehead while he forces himself deeper in your inviting heat. and before you know it, cum trickles deeply inside of your body, the bed creaking and his groans in your ears are loud and the only things you can focus on before he slots his body on yours with a sigh.
“ take a small break now. ‘m not lying when i say i’m gonna break the bed on this pussy.”
#sugutiva.#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo smut#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#geto smut#choso kamo x reader#choso x reader#choso smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#toji smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk smut
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Yandere Batfam & Neglected Reader Prt. 3
Finally getting a tiny bit of Bruce's monologue!! And uh oh, looks like you've gotta clock in!
As the car began to move, you couldn't help but feel a growing sense of panic. The tension in the air was palpable, and you could feel the weight of everyone's gaze on you. You tried your best to focus on anything but the Waynes, your mind desperately attempting to process what just happened in the parking lot. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, staring out the window as the city lights blurred past. It was then that Damian decided to break the awkward silence.
“Father, what is the meaning of bringing her along with us?” Damian spoke curtly, disdain marring his voice when mentioning you.
As much as you disliked him as well, he had a point. Why the hell are you sitting here with them?
Bruce glanced at Damian. Truth be told, he didn't quite know why. While you were his child, one out of the only two biological children he had, he had never really had the time or care to acknowledge you. You coming into his life abruptly disturbed everything, so he paid you no mind. He’ll admit, it wasn't fair of him to do so, but he had bigger things to worry about. He was tired, and a child that wasn't involved with his night business, who did not understand what his life of vigilantism took out of him, would never understand the sacrifices that he's had to make. It wasn't until seeing you on the football field, happy, talking to your friends and acting in a way he'd never seen you do, he'd begun to realize what he missed.
When did you get so tall? He could have sworn you were no taller than his waist. And when did you join the cheerleading team? And who was that girl throwing her arm around you? Who was that boy? Gods, just how much has he missed?
But he couldn't say all of that. So instead he just replied, “She's a part of this family, Damian and she needed a ride back home.”
He could feel Cassandra’s knowing stare, she could read him better than anybody and she knew the inner turmoil brewing in his heart. That's coupled with Stephanie’s smirk and Dick’s predatory grin. Jason grunted in response, clearly not pleased with the arrangement. Lastly, he could see the disbelief on your face, as if you couldn't believe you'd even be considered part of this family. And he’s mostly to blame.
He internally sighed. He'd have to work on that. You were his daughter. His. It was his job to keep you safe and happy. It was his job to make sure you felt loved. And right now? He was no better than Jannet and Jack Drake leaving poor Tim to fend for himself. But that would all soon change, starting with himself and his children.
You on the other hand were still reeling from Bruce’s words. “Family”? Is he fucking kidding or what?
Dick, always the one to break the tension with his charm, spoke up next. "Hey, (Y/n), when did you become a cheerleader? I didn't know you were into that sort of stuff." Dick said with that condescending tone.
Your eyes twitched. You did not like his tone.
“That's none of your business Dick.” You shot back before you could even think.
Everyone looked your way. Whoops, that was your bad.
It was Jasons turn to get upset, “Watch your fucking mouth.” He growled, ever possessive over his older brother.
You immediately froze up, offering a quick and quiet apology before retreating into your own head. Jason–Jason scared you more than any of the others. You knew about his pit rage, you knew about the bloody and beaten bodies he's left in the wake of his rage. You knew he’d never dream of hurting his family, the pit often aiding in his possessive tendencies over the rest of the bats but– you weren't family. And you'd hate to be on the receiving end of Jason’s wrath.
If anyone had continued talking to you, you wouldn’t know. The sound around you was muffled like your head was filled with cotton and you could feel yourself shaking. You wanted out. Now. Thankfully, the rest of the ride was mostly quiet. Sure, everyone would occasionally turn their eyes towards you, making you shrink further in on yourself, but you were almost at the manor. The vehicle barely came to a stop before you were throwing yourself out the door and into the manor. You bid Alfred a quick “goodbye” and “thank you” before bolting up the stairs and into your room.
You locked the door, not that anyone would bother coming up to your room, but still it gave you security nonetheless. You stripped and hopped into the shower, the soreness in your body now making itself known. God it was gonna suck tomorrow. Why? Because it was Friday today, that meant tomorrow would be Saturday, and that meant that you'd have to go to work at the ass crack of dawn, 5 am. Plus, you didn't even have your bike, so you’d have to rely on Alfred to take you and bring you back. Great.
So with a heavy heart and heavy limbs, you tucked yourself into bed ready for the worst sleep of your life.
You wake up to the grating sound of your iphone alarm, as you groggily get up to brush your teeth, shower and get ready for the long day ahead. Making your way down for a cup of coffee, sleep still in your eyes, you fail to notice the looming figure of Tim Drake already sipping his own coffee. It was dark downstairs and you were still fighting off exhaustion from the day before, so who could blame you for not seeing the corner of the cabinet. Before you knew it, you were hunched over on the floor grabbing your pinkie toe in pain.
“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, that hurt! Holy shit, kill yourself, kill yourself! Who the fuck puts a cabinet there, oh my god.” You wailed in pain, cursing at the damn cabinet. You’d blame it on delirium and exhaustion. Honestly, it was an expected crashout.
You laid pathetically on the floor for a couple of more seconds before you heard a monotone, disinterested voice make itself known.
“Are you done now?” Tim says from behind you.
You yelp in surprise, before clumsily scrambling up and turning around. And there he was, sitting at the counter, coffee in hand and an almost (dare you say) amused look on his face. You blanche. Shit, how long has he been sitting there? Oh god, please don't say he’s witnessed the entirety of your embarrassing crashout?
And as if reading your mind, he cryptically answers, “Yes, I've been here this entire time.” All while sipping his coffee as his calculating eyes scarily bore into your figure.
You don't know what to say, embarrassed out of your mind, so you just apologize.
“Right–um, sorry about that. I’m just tryna get some coffee. I'll be out your way.” You hastily say before turning, tail tucked back towards the coffee pot.
You could still feel the weight of Tim’s stare on you but you're too tired and embarrassed to care. You pour yourself a big cup of straight up black coffee and proceed to chug it while walking towards the sink. After finishing it, you proceeded to gag for a few seconds, the bitter taste still permeating your mouth. God you hated the taste of black coffee, but you’d do whatever it takes to not fall asleep on the job. You discard your cup into the sink before you decide to find Alfred, it was 4:37 am and you needed to clock in by 5:00 am or else your ass was grass. You conveniently ignore Tim who has watched all of your misfortune happen this morning. He doesn't say anything when you leave the dining/kitchen area, just eerily watches.
God, he made you nervous.
Anyways, your quest to find Alfred was short lived as he seemingly appeared out of nowhere, Damian in tow (you could feel the scar on your face burning). Great, was everyone up at this ungodly hour or was it just them two? You avoided the heat of Damian’s glare as you relayed to Alfred your predicament, apologizing profusely since you did ask him last minute. He simply smiled at you, letting you know that “it is never a hindrance when you need something Master (Y/n).” You smiled back in relief, thanking him once more as Alfred got ready to drop you off.
But of course, Damian just had to break the silence.
“What could you possibly need to do at this hour? Alfred has better things to do other than encouraging your galavanting.” Damian spoke sharply.
You just sighed, “Not that it's any of your business, but I have work.”You don't offer any more information as your hand unknowingly caresses the scarred tissue on your face.
Damian’s eyes draw to your face at the movement, seemingly fixated on the scar he left on you. He doesn’t think much of it, but sometimes, something green and dangerous purrs inside of him. Yes, his mark. It was his mark on your face. As much as he hated you, you were his only other blood-sibling no matter how weak and useless you were. He had bested you, and usually would pay you no mind, you knew your place and would typically remain docile. But recently you’ve been showing a new abrasive side, one he is not particularly fond of.
He’d have to talk to father about it.
Silence permeates the air as he doesnt bother to dignify your disrespect with a response. You’re saved when Alfred comes back with keys, both you and him rushing to whatever vehicle he's pulled out from the large, large selection of coveted cars Bruce owns. Looks like it's a BMW today. You practically throw yourself in, as Alfred speeds away to the cafe you work at. You arrive at work in record speed, bidding Alfred a “goodbye” before rushing to throw your apron on and clock in.
You’re greeted by the one other person working your shift, Matheo. He’s a sweet boy, very soft-spoken and mostly sticks in the back near the kitchen to bake the pastries while you work the register. Of course he comes and helps with drink orders when it's particularly busy, he’s too kind to leave you to fend for yourself. Regardless, you have a pretty straight forward agreement, which is what spells your doom. It was a regular Saturday shift, with the pilate moms coming in, middle schoolers loitering, and the occasional customer with an attitude. Everything was fine and dandy till three familiar faces walk in.
You were ever the busy body, finishing one last drink before yelling out a quick “I’ll help y’all shortly!”, to whoever just walked in. You quickly rush over to the register, not even bothering to look up from the register.
“Sorry ‘bout the wait! Now what can I get you?” You said in your regular customer service voice.
“Well, well, well, turns out you were right Dami, she does work here.” A chillingly familiar voice jests.
You freeze, slowly looking up only to be met with Dick smiling at you. It was not a kind smile, no, there was something dangerous about it. Behind him, you could see the familiar figures of Cassandra and Damian. What the hell are they doing here? God, you should have never mentioned anything to Damian, now you had to deal with this.
“R–right, what can I get you?” You shakily say, putting back on your customer service persona.
Dick’s smile grows, his teeth now visible, almost as if he was baring his teeth. Danger. Something inside you screamed.
“I’ll just have a vanilla cold brew, extra cold foam. Dami, Cass, what do you want?” Dick grinns.
“Tch, I don't want anything from this place.” Damian says, uninterested.
“Cass?” Dick asks, looking at her.
She comes up to the register, giving Dick a one-off-glance. Worryingly, her eyes seem to be fixated on you. She doesn't say anything for a few seconds, holding immensely uncomfortable eye contact with you before relaying her order.
“Just a caramel latte.” Cass says, still looking down at you.
You frantically fill in their orders on the register.
“Will that be all?” You ask. You hoped that was all, you didn't want them spending another minute talking to you.
Dick says a quick cheerful “no” before you ring them up and get started with the two drinks. It doesn't take too much time before you’re calling out their names to come get their drinks. You hope they leave right after. But of course, nothing goes according to your wishes as they grab their drinks and seat themselves at a table. Great.
The minutes after result in further disaster. After a couple of more customers, a lady comes up to you, face already molded into a scowl with a half empty drink in her hand. Oh great, a “karen”.
“Hello ma’am, how can I help you?” You kindly say.
“You! I need a refund. Right. Now!” The lady booms, wagging her finger in your face.
“A refund, right, is there a reason you’re requesting a refund?”
“A reason!? You made my drink wrong and I want my money back!”
“Please correct me if i'm wrong, but I believe you ordered a double mocha cappuccino, correct?” You ask slowly.
“Yes, that's what I ordered! Why are you asking me all these questions?!”
“Sorry ma’am, but that is the drink I gave you. Is there something specifically wrong with the drink?”
“The drink that you gave me is wrong, you made it wrong! It doesn't taste anything like regular coffee!”
“Oh, well sometimes different cafes use different recipes for the same drink, i think maybe that's why–”
“–Well I don't care! I want a refund!”
You could feel eyes on you as the other patrons start to notice the commotion brewing.
“Ma’am, i'm so sorry but i can't give you a refund, you’ve already drank half the drink. If you would have let me know sooner, I could've remade it for you, but–I'm sorry ma’am I can't give you that refund.”
“Are you serious! Why I never!? It's always bitches like you who try scamming people out of their money!”
“Ma'am, I'm really sorry, it's the company policy. I just work here–” You gently say, trying to calm her down.
“–Go to hell you bitch!” Is all you hear before you’re doused in the face with warm coffee.
You just stand there is shock, blinking through the coffee. There's no way that just happened. Theo, comes out having heard the commotion (albeit a little too late), only to be met with the sight of you covered in coffee.
“Oh my gosh (Y/n)! I should have come sooner, are you okay?”
“Peachy.” You say, voice audibly watery and cracking.
“I'll take care of everything up here, you go take some time in the back. Clean up or honestly if you don't feel like it, just rest in the back–”
“–It's okay Theo, I–I just need a couple of minutes. I'm fine.”
He gives you a quizzical stare.
“I'm fine. I promise.” You smile, although you could feel your eyes starting to water.
You hastily walk off to the break room and proceed to cry for a good 2 minutes before deciding to start cleaning yourself up. You do your best to get the coffee that's dried into hair out while wiping down your now sicky arms and face. Changing your apron gets rid of most of the mess, but your shirt underneath still has a couple of large patches of coffee. Sighing, you tidy yourself up as much as possible before heading back to the counter, Theo worriedly waiting for you. You just shoot him a thumbs up and let him know that it’s okay for him to retreat back to the kitchen; he lingers for a moment, hesitant to leave you alone, but drudges back regardless.
There are eyes on you. You look up perturbed, only to find Dick, Cass, and Damian still sitting at their table, sharp stares pinned on your figure. They saw all that happen, didn't they? You mentally cringed.
Checking your watch, you realize that there are still four more hours left on your shift. Great, that's great–just another four more hours, which is technically thirty minutes eight times, which is technically fifteen minutes sixteen times–and you’ve lost it. Jesus you were losing your mind, which was understandable (honestly you're surprised it hasn't happened sooner) during one of the worst shifts of your life.
It’s fine. You got this. Just four more hours, and you can have your “Mental Breakdown Part Ⅱ™”.
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MGG prompt. 🥺 Reid’s favorite holiday is Halloween and he’s disappointed when his plans fall through for the evening so you invite him to hand out candy at your house, and once he arrives he’s very into your Halloween costume, and you end up not passing out any candy. 😉😉
I love me some Spencer Reid 🥺✨ spooky smut coming your way!!
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
Contains: Unprotected sex, Spencer fucking you in your costume, Reader receiving oral, fishnet ripping… fun stuff!
“What do you mean you’re not doing Halloween this year?” You were shocked, leaning over Spencer’s desk as he was sitting in his chair.
“My plans fell through… so it’s just sit in my apartment and watch some horror movies that night.” Spencer shrugged, but you could see the disappointment behind his expression. He LOVED Halloween- come October and it was the only thing he’d talk about. You hated seeing him sad, especially during his favourite time of the year.
“Hey, I have an idea.” You said, the cogs in your head turning.
“Come over to mine… we can dress up and hand out candy, watch some scary movies. I don’t want you to be alone…” you said softly, hoping that he would take you up on your offer.
Spencer’s eyes had a spark of excitement from your offer- not only because of Halloween but also because he could spend time with you.
“Y-yeah! I’d like that a lot…” he gave you that goofy smile he always gave when he was excited, making your heart flutter at the sight.
“Great! I’ll um… text you the address, you gotta wear a costume though… or you’re not being let in.” You teased, making him fidget in his seat.
“Oh I will be, don’t you worry.”
- - -
The few days to Halloween rolled by as Spencer and yourself had finalised your plans for that night.
You stood at your bathroom mirror, applying the final touches to your makeup - the pink and blue eyeshadow blended to perfection, bringing your elvira costume together with the tall wig and long black dress that showed off your curves perfectly.
The timing was impeccable as you heard the doorbell buzzing, your favourite boy genius had arrived on time. You eagerly made your way towards the door, opening it to see Spencer… in normal clothing.
“Spencer I told you to dress up!” You said to him, a bit of disappointment in your voice. “What do you mean? I am dressed up…” Spencer smoothed over his shirt.
“I’m an existentialist.”
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you couldn’t help but laugh. He was such a dork, but you couldn’t help but admire him for it.
“Besides, it looks like you’re the star of our Halloween night…” Spencer smiled softly, his eyes running over you as he admired your costume.
The soft blush on your cheeks was undeniable, smiling sweetly at him. “Thanks Spence… come in.” You pulled the door open wider, watching him walk inside and take in the surroundings of your home.
He saw the giant bowl of candy, meant for any trick or treaters who were to pass by the house but couldn’t help but take a piece for himself.
“Got a lot to choose from…” he smiled as he unwrapped the piece of candy, putting it in his mouth and chewing slowly.
Smiling at him, you nodded. “Whoever comes to the door is gonna have a hard time choosing…”
There was undoubtedly tension between you both, you had no problems speaking when you were at work together but now? The air was just full of unspoken feelings and longing…
“Uhm… i have some movies that we can watch, if you’re wanting to watch something…” you turned around, trying to break the silence that surrounded you both.
“I have Halloween, The Lost Boys, Scream, The Thing- take your pick.” You handed him the DVDS that you had in your hand, he takes them and momentarily grazes his fingers on yours, making the flush on your cheeks burn brighter as you watch him go through the selection of movies.
“The Lost Boys first?” He grinned, seeing the smile on your face.
“My favourite… yes let’s do it.”
The doorbell rang, hearing a muffled “trick or treat!” From behind the wood.
“I’ll get the door… you pop the movie in yeah?” You looked to him as you grabbed the candy bowl.
“Yeah of course.” He looked as you turned around, admiring the way that you looked in your costume as you answered the door to the trick or treaters.
In that time you took handing out candy and closed the door, Spencer had taken a seat on your couch ready to watch the movie, waiting for you to come sit beside him.
Upon your return, Spencer smiled up at you as you sat down. Ready to watch as he pressed play.
The movie plays, the title card with the aerial shot of the carnival in Santa Carla is in view and you focus on the screen- Spencer, trying to get avert his eyes to the screen was looking at you, he couldn’t get over how you looked in that outfit…
He felt bad for not watching the movie, but he enjoyed watching you. He could see the excitement in your eyes as the vampires on their bikes driving off through the sandy dunes and smiled softly at your reactions.
You could feel his eyes on you, knowing that he wasn’t paying attention- but you couldn’t help but love that he was watching you instead of the movie.
You turned to face him, A dash of confidence building up inside you.
“Spence?” You whispered, locking eye contact with him.
Spencer’s eyes went wide and he swallowed hard.
“I-I um…” he stuttered, not being able to look you in the eye. His nervousness settling in as he looked toward his lap.
Using your index finger you pulled his chin up, making him look at you.
“Do you like what you see Spence?” You whisper, your sweet tone sending a shiver down his spine.
Of course he did, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you in your costume.
“Yes…” he whispered, watching you move closer toward him. The gap between you both was agonisingly thin, his pupils blown with desire for you.
Leaning in further, you could feel his shallow, shaky breaths on your lips- feeling his needy desire for you buzzing off of him.
“Do you want this? Do you want me?” You said quietly, smiling at the hitch in his throat.
“Yes… god yes.” He whined, there was nothing in that moment that he wanted more than to have you… to take you.
Taking that opportunity, you moved forward and captured his lips with yours, tasting the lingering candy on his tongue.
Spencer couldn’t help the soft moan that came from within him as you kissed, his slender fingers coming up to your cheek but pausing within an inch of you.
“Can I touch you?” He asked, watching as you nodded. He pulled you into him, his other arm snaking around you and holding you closer as he kissed you once more.
Your hands reached his chest, slowly unbutton his shirt and splaying it open to reveal his torso.
“Pretty boy…” you praised him as you pulled away from his kiss; watching his chest rise and fall shakily at your touch as your fingers ghosted along his warm skin toward the button of his pants, a tent evidently filled the space in front of his zipper.
“W-wait-“ he panted, gently taking your wrist. Leaning forward he encapsulated your lips again. “I-I need to taste you, please.” Spencer’s voice was yearning.
“Hmm…” you replied, a smirk appearing on your lips. “I think that can be arranged.” Spencer watched as you stood up, extending your hand to him.
Taking your hand, he followed you down the hallway to your room. Closing the door behind you Spencer took your waist, walking you backwards to the edge of the bed and lay you down- splayed out for him as your split of your black dress bared your fishnet clad legs.
Spencer looked down at you, in awe of how beautiful he thought you looked in your outfit as he sat down on his knees by the edge of the bed.
His long fingers traced along your thighs, feeling the flimsy material of the tights. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, hands tracing further up your legs to your pelvis.
With a shaky breath, he traced lightly along the front of you- your body quivering for more.
“Can I?” He whispered, looking up at you for permission. After seeing you nod, he didn’t hesitate to dig his fingers in the tights, ripping them open to reveal what lay beneath them making you gasp.
“Spence those were my good ones…” you giggled softly. “I’ll buy you another- fuck I’ll buy you 10 pairs… they look so good.” He praised you, moving closer to where you wanted him most.
So beautiful.” Spencer was in awe as he played with the elastic of your underwear and pulling it to the side, admiring your glistening cunt.
Placing a few kisses to your thighs, he traces his lips up to your pussy- flattening his tongue against you before bringing the tip of it to your clit, swirling around the sensitive nub.
The taste of you was going to be the death of him, moaning at how good it felt- something he could never get enough of.
“Spence….” You breathed out, your hands reaching for his brown hair and pulling at them- eliciting a sudden moan from him as he continued his assault with his tongue.
Your noises filled the room, each going an octave higher as he you reached your peak, the grip on his hair getting tighter as you came hard on his lips and tongue.
Spencer looked up at you, his lips wet with your desire and his eyes filled with want.
Your eyes followed him as he stood up. Starting to fiddle with the button of his pants and letting them fall to the ground at his feet, leaving him in his briefs.
All you could do was stare- your eyes raking over his form, seeing the tent that had formed under his briefs.
He watched your eyes and smirked slightly as he toyed with the elastic, hooking his thumbs under the material and pulling them down setting himself free.
Him standing bare before you was a sight for sore eyes. “God Spencer…” you whispered, admiring him as you went to take off your costume- but he objected.
“Leave it on… please.” He pleaded. “I wanna take you like this…” he said shyly as he took a step over to you and crawled on top the sheets, hovering over you.
He looked over you, seeing you eye him from below in awe- the yearning to feel you overwhelming as he positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you with his tip.
“C-can I?” He whispered, his face coming down a few inches from you as you nodded enthusiastically. “Yes Spencer, please…”
Slowly and steadily, he started to move himself inside you- a gasp falling from his lips he moved his hips, listening and watching as your mouth fell open; the most heavenly sound that has ever hit his ears falling from your lips- calling his name and your fingers digging into his shoulders.
His thrusts became faster, more desperate. The eagerness to please you, to feel you- to make you cum the only goal on his mind.
“I-is this good? Please tell me it feels good-“ he was panting, desperate to hear you praise him. “Sp-Spence you feel so good- so good f’me…” you couldn’t help the shuddering words that came out, ecstasy building up in your core.
A small whimper rolled out of Spencer at your praise, whining as he continued rolling his hips into yours. The pressure of his orgasm was building up inside him quickly.
“I-I’m not gonna last.” He whispered, another whine following his words.
“Let go Spencer, please…”
Spencer’s thrusts became more erratic as he watched you fall over the edge- calling out his name as you came hard around him, clenching yourself around his cock.
His breathing became jagged as he felt himself twitch inside you, his orgasm hitting him like a tidal wave as his cum coated your walls.
“God you’re- you’re so beautiful, so perfect…” he watched as you glanced up at him with half lidded eyes and parted lips that had messy red lipstick all over them, basking in the after glow. His hair stuck to his temples, making you giggle as you unstuck it from his head. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted that, wanted you…” you smiled, touching his cheek gently as though he was made of glass.
Spencer leaned into your touch, his pupils blown with admiration. “Me too…”
There was a silence between you both, before he piped up once more.
“Definitely the best Halloween I’ve had.” He smiled at his own sentence, making you giggle as he lay down beside you- giving soft touches as he held you close- content with being there in that moment with you.
#Spencer Reid#criminal minds#Spencer Reid x reader#spencer reid x you#criminal minds x reader#Spencer reid smut#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds smut#matthew gray gubler#mgg#matthew gray gubler smut
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Tough As Nails—Giddy Up, Cowboy
thinking about cowboy!simon riley… MDNI | part two |
<- previous next ->
It had been about a week since your rendezvous with Simon. And, God, had it been consuming every waking and not waking thought.
Every breath, every touch had become engrained in your brain.
Him groaning into your mouth as you rode him. His fingers digging into the tender flesh of your hips as he whispered how fucking hot you looked on him. And, him casually giving you his cowboy hat after he gave you the best orgasm you’d ever had.
You hadn’t spoken since your little sexcapade, not because either of you were ignoring the other but simply because you were both so busy. He had to tend to the livestock and such, and you were up to your head in college work. Busy bees you both were.
But, your mom had made you take a break from your studies to come downstairs to join the camaraderie. So, you found yourself sitting on the corner cushion of the oversized white couch that takes up half of the living room, your family filling in the other seats.
The next half an hour is filled with questions regarding college, city life, and the age-old question of when you will bring a man home. Ah, gotta love being home.
You try to change the subject and bring it back to your cousin, who is engaged, but a figure moving outside catches your eye.
You squint a little to get a better view. It’s Simon. What the hell? He’s still working, and it’s eight o’clock at night. You decide to investigate, quickly excusing yourself and glancing outside until you see his figure walking towards the barn.
“Hey, Cowboy.” You shout, shuffling to his side. He doesn’t even have to look to know it’s you.
“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” He gruffs out as he steps inside the barn.
“It’s eight.” You roll your eyes as you watch him grab a bale of hay. Watching his biceps flex, making his veins bulge, causes you to gulp.
He throws the hay over the fence to where the horses are and turns to face you, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.
“Any reason you’re out here?” He asks, walking past you to grab a bucket of grain.
“I came to help you.” You lift your chin to look at him as he strolls past you again to pour the grain for the sheep.
“Don’t need help.” You tug on your bottom lip as you see his arms bulge again and sweat beads gather around his abdomen, just enough to where you can see the outline of his muscles. God, this is so pathetic.
“It would go by faster with me helping.” You urge, as he doesn’t so much as spare you a glance as he replies.
“Doubt that.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Your defensive tone finally makes him look at you.
“I don’t mean anythin’ by it. I’m just sayin’ that it doesn’t seem you know a lot about doin’ this kind of stuff.” He casually says as you narrow your eyes.
“This kind of stuff?” You repeat his words, your hands finding refuge on your hips.
“Labor intensive work.” Your eyes widen at his words. Of course, he thinks you’re some rich girl who can’t do anything except shop and date. Asshole.
“Wow.” You gawk, as you bring your hands up to cross across your upper body, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
“I didn’t think you thought so little of me, Simon.” Oh shit. You didn’t use that stupid nickname he claims to despise so much; you used his name.
He sighs, dipping his head to look at the ground, pondering a response that won’t piss you off further.
“I don’t think little of you.” He sets the empty bucket down before continuing. “I shouldn’t have said that, okay? I’m sorry.” His words sound genuine, which you know he wouldn’t fake.
“You’re forgiven.” He curtly nods, thinking you’re done. “Only if I get to help you.” You smile as he briefly closes his eyes and sighs, fine.
You spend the better part of an hour assisting him with various tasks, including feeding the calves, fixing a broken fence, and chopping firewood, which quickly became your favorite activity. Primarily because, in between the first and last log, Simon pulled his shirt off, revealing his toned body and hairy chest.
After finishing up, Simon tells you he’ll drive you back to the house since you had to go pretty far to chop the wood.
You stand outside the passenger door as Simon carefully locks up the barn door. Before he makes his way to the driver's door, he stops before you.
“You did good work.” He praises you as he opens your door for you. You don’t step in immediately; you tilt your head up, cheekily smiling.
“Do I get a reward?” His eyes darken at your innuendo, and your breath quickens as you see his body flex.
“You want a reward? I’ll give you a reward.” He steps closer to you, grasping your waist with his hands. He dips his head down and hungrily encases your lips with his own.
It's the same hunger as your first kiss but with less urgency. You could taste your shared breath and feel the thud of your combined heartbeats. Your hands roamed up his chest while his slipped into your hair, threading his fingers through the strands.
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You murmur into his mouth as he slips his tongue into yours. He grips you tighter, moving his mouth lower to press deep kisses on the tender skin of your neck.
“Scared your little boyfriend is gonna see us?” He murmurs into your skin. Referring to your guy friend, who you had been friends with for years and who was currently inside chatting with your mom.
“Fuck off. He’s not my boyfriend.” You say, gripping the back of his neck and bringing him back to your lips. “He’s a friend.” You gently nip his bottom lip, making him groan at the sensation.
“Gotta’ lot of guy friends?” He cheekily says, slipping his hand so it’s gently grazing the hem of your shirt.
“Just him.” You breathlessly reply as he slips his hand up your shirt, grazing your stomach as his lips graze against your ear.
“What about me?” He murmurs, gently nipping your ear lobe, making you grip his forearm.
“We are not friends.” He lets out a deep chuckle as he slips his hand past the waistband of your jeans, down to the button, gently unclasping it before pulling your zipper down.
“No? What do you suppose we are then?” He roughly asks as he slides your jeans down a little.
“I don’t know. Acquaintances?” You choke out, gripping his shoulders, as he grazes your cunt over your soaked underwear. He leans down, hovering over your ear.
“Don’t think acquaintances get this wet over each other.” He gently slips a finger under your underwear, carefully grazing your slit. “Do you?”
You can’t even speak. You’re too busy focusing on the way his finger feels in you. Too busy making sure you don’t fall over onto the dirt.
“Huh?” He tuts, slipping his finger entirely in you, grazing your sweet spot. You moan at the direct contact, fully leaning against the side of his truck.
“Probably not.” You manage to choke out as his fingers pump in and out of you, as he dips his head yet again to engulf your lips with his own, only pulling back slightly to praise you.
“Atta’ girl.”
Jesus Christ. You never understood how one single word or phrase could make a person lose it, but, in that moment, you almost came on his hand right then and there.
“You need more?” His husky voice rumbled through your ears, making you ferociously shake your head. He chuckles at your enthusiasm and slips another finger into you, this time lapsing around your clit.
“Fuck.” You moan out, pressing your forehead into his chest. “Feels so good.”
“I can feel.” He murmurs, referring to the multiple times you have clamped around his fingers. His fingers continue to move harmoniously inside you, grazing your clit in the process until you feel your impending orgasm.
Your orgasm hits you like a train. It was strong and intense. You thought riding him gave you the most intense orgasm you’d ever had, but he managed to intensify that with just his two fingers.
After a moment of you slumping against him to come down from your high, he zips and buttons your jeans and opens up the truck door for you to slide in.
Once he slips into his seat, he turns to you.
“You got your reward.” He breathes out, watching as you gently bite your lip.
“Now where’s mine?”
a/n: thank u guys for all of ur kind words on part one! i really appreciated it:)) hopefully, you enjoyed this💕
reblogs & comments are encouraged!
#˚ʚ♡ɞ˚: rylea writes#call of duty#cod#cod x reader#fanfic#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon riley fanfic#simon riley smut#simon riley imagine#simon riley cod#ghost simon riley#simon riley call of duty#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost cod#ghost drabble#ghost fanfiction#ghost riley#cod ghost#cowboy simon hehe#ghost mw2#ghost call of duty#ghost#ghost x reader#cod fanfic#cod mw3#cod modern warfare#call of duty x reader
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i will pay GOOD MONEY to read this bro
https://www.tumblr.com/themultifanshipper/756785500347580416/4-way-eiffel-tower
You hadn't been in the paddock for several months, being too busy with your career, and the drivers were starting to get antsy about your return.
But who would be good enough to have a go at you was anybody's guess as the Hungarian Grand Prix weekend got underway.
Warnings: Kinda paddock bunny vibes, but reader more in control, smut, brief stuff with Lando and Charles, slightly creepy/predatory behaviour (but everything is consensual), hand job, oral, PinV, PinA, anal, like 3 lines of dirty talk, aftercare, eeeeh idk what else
Part 1 of One of The Boys
Max was the first to spot you on Friday morning, you were chatting with some of the formula 3 drivers who were getting ready for their practice session.
He wrapped you in a big hug from behind and lifted you up.
“I know it's been a while but these guys are a bit young for you aren't they?” he said teasingly and you slapped his arm, giggling as he put you down.
“Don’t worry, I already have my hands full with you lot. They'll get their turn if they get into formula 1”
You walked with him on his way towards the redbull hospitality.
“Yeah?” he smirked “Speaking of, what's my prize going to be when I inevitably win on Sunday?”
You laughed at him.
“Given how your car's been performing lately I'm not sure your cockiness is justified”
He gasped and put a hand on his chest in mock offense.
“How dare you doubt my talents?”
“It's not 2023 anymore Max, you can't have me all to yourself. You need to learn to share…” you smiled at him devilishly “And for your information, I won't be giving a prize to the winner anyway, so it's anyone's game”
You winked conspiratorially and sauntered off leaving Max on his own to wonder what on earth you meant by that.
The next person you saw was Lando, that very afternoon. And word had obviously traveled fast.
“A little birdy told me you weren't interested in podium sitters this weekend…” he hooked his arm over your shoulder and pressed a kiss to you cheek in greeting “So what's a man gotta do around here to get you to himself?”
He deepened his voice seductively , but it just served to make you laugh at him, given the number of times you'd heard high pitched whines come out of his mouth during your… celebratory activities.
“Well, hello to you too Lando, how was your week?” you teased and he almost looked guilty for a second, before grinning and hugging you tight.
“I missed you in Miami, so I think you owe me something for my first win, no?” he smirked and walked you over to a secluded corner between two garages.
You rolled your eyes at him, amused by his impatience.
He crowded you against the wall and your hands went to pull him closer by his belt loops, so his hips were flush against yours. He gasped and his hips bucked involuntarily at the action.
You laughed “Come here you horndog” and he crashed his lips to yours in a desperate, messy kiss. His lips came to part yours immediately. He hadn't tasted you for so long it took him seconds to get hard.
Your hand made it inside his pants and he whined and rutted against your hand as his head went to the crook of your neck. He was breathing hard and you could almost feel him trembling in your hold.
This was going to be the quickest handjob of your life.
And he never did manage to ask about Sunday's prize.
…
A few hours later, in the car park, you were cornered by none other than Charles Leclerc.
“Hello” He murmured in your ear and you jumped at the sudden presence behind you.
You turned around quickly and he pressed you against your car to hug you.
“Hello Charles, how are you?” you said while Charles tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Horny” he answered immediately with a smile.
You laughed and he put his hands either side of you, caging you in.
“I can wait until I win on Sunday of course, but I've been told you have something else in mind”
He raised an eyebrow in question and you sighed.
“I'm not telling you what it is Charles”
He nodded solemnly “In that case…” he swiftly opened the back door of your car and pushed you inside, climbed in and closed it behind him.
“I think you owe me a little something for my Home win in Monaco, don't you think?” He wiggled his eyebrows but you just scoffed. “Come on princess, I want to taste you. It's been so long” he whined.
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. Well if you weren't going to be doing any work… might as well enjoy a treat for once.
You smirked at him and he grinned, spreading your legs and lifting your dress…
This was going to be a long weekend.
You managed to mostly avoid the drivers’ advances on Saturday, them being pretty busy with prep and qualifying and sticking around the feeder series drivers.
You hadn't even checked the group chat you'd been added to, you assumed it would just be full of questions about Sunday so you steered clear. Your plans would be revealed soon enough.
Sunday morning you arrived bright and early, catching Carlos on your way in and told him to spread the word with the others:
To shake things up a bit, and to celebrate you returning from your lengthy leave of absence, you would be rewarding the top 3 fastest laps of the race, regardless of the placement in the standings.
As you watched the race unfold you were getting more and more excited. The fastest laps were getting passed around like a football, and you were looking forward to potentially getting to have some fresh blood.
And you were right. The fresh blood came in the form of Logan Sargeant. You hadn't been able to spend a night with him yet, him never having gotten a podium.
After the race you sent a message in the group chat:
‘Congratulations to George, Logan and Max! (And Oscar of course 😘)
The three of you are welcome to stop by my hotel room (306 at the hilton, Lando don't you dare) and you need to decide between yourselves about the order etc etc… I'll be waiting ;)’
.
After a quick shower and a quick meal you lay on your bed and checked your messages.
There was just one from George.
‘we'll be there at 7:30’
Oh…
They were all coming together. (pun intended)
Interesting…
You imagined what it would be like. Would they take turns with you? George or Max showing Logan how to handle you. Fucking you into the mattress while he sat in the chair and watched, waiting for his turn.
Or maybe two of them would fill you up while the other ran his hands and mouth all over your body.
Would any of them be into touching each other? You knew Max and George were closer than what they revealed to the public, and that they had hooked up, but would you get to see it?
You imagined what Logan could be like… Was he inexperienced? Did he fuck like a pro?
All these questions were swirling around your mind when a knock at the door interrupted you. A spark of arousal shot through you and you hurried to go and open it.
Max was leaning against the frame, George stood behind him, smirking, and Logan was leaning against the opposite wall, looking cool as a cucumber as his eyes roamed your figure.
“Come on in boys” you said cheerfully, stepping aside to let them through before closing the door and sitting yourself on the bed in front of them.
“So what’s the plan, Max?” you said mischievously “You going to show these guys how it's done? Or is George going to come and claim his prize for Austria?”
George chuckled.
“Actually, we're going to fill you up.”
You frowned at him in question. “Fill me up?”
“You've got 3 holes for a reason, right?”
Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.
“Fuck, okay…”
You found yourself bent over the bed, Max's mouth on your cunt and his fingers in your ass, stretching you out for him.
George's cock was in your mouth, and your hand was wrapped around Logan, pumping him at a leisurely pace.
Once you had come from Max's expert fingers and mouth, he deemed you ready and you were repositioned to their liking.
You straddled Logan, Max behind you, and George in front of you.
Pulling Logan into a sloppy kiss, you sank down on him slowly. Your heat enveloped him and he moaned into your mouth as you ground your hips down on him.
You felt Max's presence behind you and he pushed you and Logan to lay down. He positioned himself at your entrance and stroked your flesh tenderly.
“You ready, baby?”
You nodded and he wasted no time pushing the tip in.
You moaned, he was pretty big, and Logan was already filling you up nicely.
He pushed in slowly, and with every inch your moans increased in pitch.
Logan could feel you fluttering around him and it was driving him crazy, choosing to distract himself, and you, by sucking marks into your neck.
Once Max was fully inside, George came forward and stroked your cheek.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
You felt so full you didn't quite know how to respond, overwhelmed by the feeling of the two men inside you.
But when they started moving it was a whole different ball park.
The drag of two cocks against your walls was sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body, it was indescribable.
They didn't have the same rhythm so sometimes one pushed in while the other dragged out, but when both of them pushed in together you swore loudly as they nudged every single one of your sweet spots.
George wrapped a hand in your hair and you looked up at him, already fucked out of your mind.
“Mind if I use your mouth, love?”
He asked with a sweet smile.
You grinned at him and stuck your tongue out.
“Good girl”
Being used by 3 of the fittest men on the planet was exhausting, but incredibly rewarding, as you felt your orgasm creep up on you.
You moaned around George and he pulled out to let you breathe.
Max piped up.
“You getting close, baby?”
You whined out a yes before grabbing George's hips and shoving your mouth back on him, the weight of his cock a grounding presence to counter the white hot pleasure coursing through your body.
“Good, because we're close too, we're going to fill you up. Right guys?”
George hummed and stroked your tear stained cheeks. “And you're going to be a good girl and swallow it all, yes?”
You hummed around him, and then Logan spoke for the first time since he'd walked in the room.
“Gonna fill this sweet pussy full of my cum, baby. You like being full of cum? You like being used like a slut by your friends?”
The shock of his voice in your ear sent a shockwave through you and you came on the spot, creaming around Logan and spasming around Max. They both came inside you with a groan after a couple of rough thrusts and stayed there while you came down.
George wasn't far behind and you swallowed all of him as his come filled your mouth.
The aftercare was amazing. George and Logan accompanied you in the shower, one washing your hair while the other scrubbed your body clean of sweat and leaked come.
Max changed the sheets (he called room service for clean ones) and then went in the shower once you were done.
You went to sleep with the three of them huddled around you, their hands wandering over your flesh affectionately.
You always took care of your boys, and they always took care of you.
#my thots#george thots#max thots#logan thots#george russell#george russell smut#george russell x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen smut#max verstappen x reader#logan sargeant#logan sargeant x reader#logan sargeant smut#f1#formula 1#ask#request#one of the boys
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𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞.
john price x fem reader.
18+ !!! possessive husband! john, penetrative sex, cum play, light choking, use of the word 'sir', king of dirty talk captain john price.
just something i had to get off my chest! reblogs and thoughts are appreciated!
You’re spread, face down, and ass up on the duvet.
John’s hands are warm on your hips, his calloused fingers are digging into your heated flesh, and grabbing fist fulls, as if he wants to take you apart. You squirm against the pressure. You’ve always liked it when John grabbed you like this.
Like it a lot more when you’re spread wide open for him, though.
He hums a smile from behind you. “Gotta say it louder, sweetheart. I didn’t hear you.” You swallow down your drool. It’s pooling onto the sheets below your mouth, and you know that when this is all said and done, John will pull you against him and joke about the wet patches. Whisper heavily into your ear – look at the mess you’ve made, love, and you’ll blink at the sight, still sensitive from the daze he’d put you in. Melt against his chest. Say, it’s all your fault, and John would chuckle, kiss you sweetly, I’m such a bad guy, aren’t I?
Now, though, in the heat of the night, you couldn’t care less. You sink into your thighs, and the movement forces your pussy wider for him. John sighs at the sight. Grunting, as if he’s letting himself into temptation, he slides his thumb over your spread cheeks, and roughly drags it over your asshole.
You gasp, and buck forward, body throbbing. “Ah, John.” He lightly smacks your hip, “what did I say?” “You,” you loudly repeat, suddenly remembering what he asked earlier.
Who do you belong to? He’d grunted. You’d been far too dazed to respond clearly – coming twice from John’s thick fingers and tongue would do that.
Your husband hums again, grabbing your ass cheek and spreading you wider. “Look at you,” he whispers to himself, gazing at the wet slick of your cunt.
You’re soaking. Slowly floating into the abyss. Drifting off into a world of non-verbal communication, dazed smiles, and incomprehensible words.
You’re familiar with it.
Familiar with John fucking you stupid. Familiar with John’s soothing hand on the back of your neck as he coaxes you out of your small space.
Your husband presses the head of his cock against your cunt, then gently slides it through your slick, rubbing against your clit and aching hole. You mouth at the duvet, eyes rolling back until all you see is the soothing black.
“This wet cunt. All for me?” Your belly tightens. Pussy clenches around the memory of his dick. “John,” you whine, begging for more, begging for him to stop. You’re not sure at this point.
There’s not a lot of clarity to moments like this, it’s only after, when John’s got you in his arms, that you realise how far gone you were. Reflect on the words you’d said – the dirty spiel you’d whimpered to get what you wanted.
Still, though, as John feeds his cock into your swollen pussy, and grunts, “I’ll come inside this pretty cunt, fill you with my babies, huh?” you still have enough clarity left to shake your head and whimper, “N-No.”
John laughs darkly. He sinks his cock as far as it’ll go, and you cream around him, slipping quickly. “You sure?” he grunts, voice strained. His hands are gripping your cheeks, spreading them wide so he can see just as far you can take him.
“You don’t want me to get you pregnant? Show everyone that I fuck you good and proper?”
His words make you dizzy. Mindlessly, you clench around his cock, coating him, and John laughs with a groan.
He knows you. Knows you better than you know yourself.
Knows you’re chewing on the duvet right now, stuffing it into your mouth to quiet your sobs. Knows that there’s a knot in your belly right now, and it’s tight enough that you’re throbbing all over.
He slides his slick cock out, and when he slowly stuffs you with it again, there’s a wet ring pushing to his base. He clenches his jaw, shakes his head in disbelief, then takes his cock from you again.
Your breath hitches, waiting for him to sink back in, but then he presses in quick and tight, bottoming deep, forcing you to cry out suddenly.
“John, John, John – fuck. Fuck!” He ignores you. Continues his previous dirty drawl.
“Would look so good with my come leaking out of you, sweetheart,” he compliments. You beam. Jesus, you go blind with it. You would, fuck. You would look so good strung out, tangled in sheets with his come dribbling out of your swollen pussy.
You close your eyes to the thought of it.
Go to the sweet dark as John slides out, then buries in again. When he’s deep, and you think you’ve settled into the thick heat of it all, he hoists you against him – his chest to your back -- and presses his mouth to your ear, talking quickly, so you don’t have time to complain.
His voice is heavy. Haunting. Makes you cling to the hand he’s got tight around your belly.
“Pump you full of it, huh baby? then pull your underwear up.”
He begins to languidly fuck you. Rocks his hips up in deliberate strokes, setting a gentle, intoxicating rhythm that has your mouth hanging open and eyes rolling back. John breathes heavily in your ear, and you know it’s getting to him too.
“Make you sit in it all day. Go to work with your knickers smeared in my come. Your colleagues wouldn’t know that your pussy is all wet with me, but I would. I’d know.”
You sob his name. Lock your gummy walls to his thick cock, trying to milk him, and John near growls into your ear. “Fuck!” he snaps, and the sound echoes through you, and goes straight to your clit.
“You like that huh?” He drags his calloused hand between your trembling thighs and sloppily pushes his fingers over your clit. You double over in pleasure, but John keeps you pressed against him with the arm he’s got wrenched around you.
“Tightening around me. Shit. All this cause I threatened to punch a guy in the pub?”
You’re brought back to the memory: some guy grabbing your arm to try and dance with him, and John shoving him back, near pushing him into the slot machine.
He’d been shaking with rage. Went to get the guy's throat in his hands before you got involved.
“Like to pretend that it annoys you, but I know you love it when I’m possessive. When I keep you locked to my hip. We both know that it makes your cunt get all sticky when I fight someone for you.”
He’s right and you know it. When John had shoved the guy, you’d gone hot all over. But you’d pulled your husband to the smoking area and told him to cool it.
He went to pay the tab, and you went to the toilet. Spent most of it with your forehead against the door, trying to steady your thumping heart.
John’s still rubbing your clit, trying to catch it in his wet fingers. It’s all sloppy. It’s John breathing shakily against your ear, his deep, hungry tempo forcing a pool of desire to settle at your lower back.
He continues his pace – fucks you the way he knows you like it, steady, but hard -- and all at once, that ache that had simmered threatens to burst, and you spasm around his cock, gasping with the desire to come.
You let out an unrestrained moan, whimpering mindlessly.
Through the blood rushing through your ears, you hear yourself plea with him – fuck me, please. John. John. Please. You take his hand from your belly and drag it to your throat, grinding down on his dick.
John curses. Pushes you to the duvet, takes your hips in one hand, and rubs your clit with the other.
The sensation of both his fingers and cock makes you mute against the sheets.
Your body is numb. It’s all electric heat, wrapped around you like a cloak. You try to talk, tell him to fuck you, but all that comes out is drool and his name. Please. Please. Um gonna come. Um gonna come so hard baby—he smacks your ass, and the sudden pressure goes straight to your cunt, sending you spinning, and you’re squeezing around him, tight as a vice, coming on his cock.
John all but growls as he fucks you through your orgasm. “Gooood girl!” he shouts, watching you struggle and spasm around his cock, fidgeting and whining as white heat seers through your pussy. “Come inside me,” you gasp, drunk, so fucked out that you’d let him do anything he wants, and John groans, your cunt tight and so so warm and wet. “Come,” you drawl, your orgasm tailing off, and you clutch the duvet, whining in your post-come state. John’s still fucking you and the feel of his hard cock sliding through your swollen and slick folds has you babbling.
“Come inside me I want you inside of me.” John huffs a laugh. “No, baby, that’s not what you want.” You shake your head, delirious. “It is, I promise.” “No, it’s not. I’ve just fucked all rational thought out of your head. Brain’s gone dumb on my cock, huh baby?”
He smooths his hand over your back, struggling to contain his strained grunts through his spiel. You can’t decide which you like more: when John’s so turned on that all he can do is bark filth at you, or when he’s so turned on that he can’t, just moan and grunt and fuck you silly.
“Good thing your husband thinks for you, though. Turn around.”
In your bleary state, you manage to fumble around onto your back, and John grabs hold of your leg and pulls you down the duvet, forcing you onto your knees in front of him.
You blink up at his looming body – at his heaving, hairy chest, and clenched neck. His face is red with sweat, and the heady, heavy gaze of his eyes has your belly swirling. Blinking down at his hand, you dreamily watch him tug at his wet, angrily hard cock, before muscle memory kicks in.
You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, and John groans deep in his throat, the sound twisting into a moan as he speeds up his tugging, and it's seconds before he’s pumping his come into your mouth.
Most of it lands on your tongue, or around your lips. But a smear of it shoots across your cheek. You don’t dare wipe it away; instead, once John’s finished, and he’s staring down at you with this wild, feverish look, you close your mouth and make a show of swallowing it down.
You’ve collected a lot of spit from having your mouth open for so long, and your mouth is too full to swallow it all in one go, so a trail of it slides down the corner of your mouth and throat.
John watches it drip.
Inhaling steadily, he reaches his thick hand out, and wipes the smear of it, along with the come on your cheek, away with his thumb.
“What was it you said?” he whispers. His eyes are black as he pushes his finger inside of your mouth. You close your eyes and mewl around his thumb, lazily sucking at it as if he’d pushed his cock between your lips.
Having something of his in your mouth makes your post-come delirium even worse.
The position makes you hazy, too – spread thighs and sensitive pussy brushing against the rug – and you’re just about to ask if you can blow him before he pulls his fingers away and clasps your jaw and throat in his huge hand.
Your eyes immediately roll back. Cunt clenches, desperate for him inside of you again, and when you blink up at him, your husband's face is a picture of love and possession.
“Mine,” he states, in his heavy, smoke-laden voice.
You lick your lips and taste the remnants of his come on your tongue. “Yes sir,” you whisper.
masterlist.
please reblog or comment i'll kiss u.
#john price#john price smut#john price x reader#captain john price#cod#call of duty#john price x you#captain john price x reader#cod mw2
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How to Reinvent Yourself!!
(none of these photos are mine!) “Pour yourself a drink, put on lipstick and pull yourself together.” - Elizabeth Taylor
Mindset!! This is one of the most important things that comes with reinventing yourself. Therefore that toxic, negative, insecure, and judgmental mindset has gotta go. Say hello to your new positive, secure, lavish, and uplifting mindset! Now, first thing you need to do is stop taking EVERYTHING so personally. Should you really be spending your whole day overthinking what this person says about you. NO! The only opinion that should matter when it comes to you, IS YOU. Next, think with a “so what?” type of mindset. Someone doesn’t like you? So what! Someone judges you? So what! Say so what, and move on. Lastly, take care of your mind!! You can’t create a whole new mindset if you don’t take care of your mind. So, heal whatever is making your mind stressed and fill your head with lots of good thoughts. You could compliment yourself, do shadow work, watch uplifting videos, just do whatever makes you feel good.
2. Set boundaries!! Not only should you set boundaries for yourself, but also for your relationships. Whether thats with a bf/gf, family members, or even friends. Whoever it is, they need to understand to not cross the line. Now, if they don’t understand then they obviously shouldn’t be around you. This year we are only surrounding ourselves around people who deserve to have access to us. Now, let’s talk about examples of having boundaries . First example, someone may be touching you in a way that makes you uncomfortable. For that reason you move a bit away from that person and clarify that they’re making you uncomfortable. If they call you selfish, so what? They need to understand to respect your boundaries. Second, someone is disrespecting you? Tell them that you don’t like their behavior and to stop. Last example, a stranger is using your belongings without your permission? Tell them that they should have asked and you don’t want them using your stuff. If any of these people don’t respect your boundaries, get them out of your life!!
3. Change the way you dress, talk, and walk!! I would like to clarify quickly, only do this if you want to. Moving on, I’ve learnt that slower walking and talking is better. Now I’m not saying to walk and talk in slow motion. Just slightly do it slower. This way, you can play attention to your behaviors more. It can be really important to observe yourself. Not only that but in a world moving fast, walking slow makes you stand out. Also make sure when you speak, it’s clear. That way people can understand you and what you’re saying. Finally, let’s go over the way you dress. Wear outfits that make you feel good, stylish, and fit you well. If you want to wear an outfit, don’t shy away. Wear it if it makes you feel happy! When you wear an outfit that makes you confident, the outfit is even cuter. Don’t forget, have fun with fashion and experiment with pieces.
4. Self-worth!! You need to understand that you’re an absolute BLESSING on this Earth. You are here for a reason and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. There is not a single flaw in you. You see your insecurities? Yeah, well someone out there has them too. Just because you have a few insecurities, doesn’t mean that should bring your value down. You should bring your value up and add taxes by realizing your worth.
“It is far better to be alone, than to be in bad company.” - George Washington
Love you dolls sm!! Remember to always wear a smile and stay pretty 💋
Pinterest: Arielleslipgloss
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Some more dick-related brain rot…😘
We take the self serve dick bar and use monsters for the monster hotel. We are going to have that full “continental breakfast.” So we have a forest entity cumming maple syrup, a Minotaur cumming milk/creme, a yeti who cums slushies, a slime who cums various jams depending on whatever fruit we feed it, and any more monsters who we can utilize ☺️
When you were talking about your rats, it made me think of some rat-hybrid monster where reader can steer him via. his dick, like a reverse Ratatouille scenario 🐀
Having a robot/android partner, I could use his dick as a literal joy stick when playing video games. Also, if I have to charge robot/android, do you think his dick acts like a giant extension cord I could just plug into the outlet in the wall? Also does that mean he technically “eats” with his dick? I assume when traveling with him internationally, I gotta get a lot of compatible adapters so he can get plugged in successfully🕹️
A Hydra monster would be kinda funny to have sex with, cause maybe if you cut its “head” down south, two more will grow back 🤔
I think that’s all for now. Tell your man that he is very much appreciated, and it’s nice he’s in this club of debauchery 😉
-👘
This amount of thirst and depravity is exactly what the monster guests would come up with just to have Reader employee touch them. 😭 Content: gender neutral reader, rancid NSFW!!! (more white sauce I’m afraid), monster smut
The latest fad your centaur manager has been into is food cooked with bodily fluids. This has had several implications, all of them regrettably involving you.
While the idea has been gripping at his mind like a great plague, he can't possibly ask you to just...let go over his breakfast toast. He can already see how exhausted you return after being used by the starved guests. They stuff you just enough for you to wonder if you'll survive it, then make sure to clean up their mess, politely aiding your speedy recovery, almost as if they weren't the cause of destruction to begin with. The manager has heard it one too many times that your nether regions are numb from all the monstrous tongues and appendages.
Maybe a change of scenery will help.
"Kitchen staff? I thought I'm supposed to clean the rooms", you inquire, somewhat confused by the sudden proposal.
"It's not quite...kitchen duties, per se. We need someone to help with the hotel's breakfast. We have a new experimental menu, though not enough...hands."
You should've expected it. How bad could it possibly be, you told yourself, pouring some orange juice for the seated guests? You had your first suspicions from the big, flashy sign now propped outside the room: service provided by our esteemed and loved human employee. You didn't need to ponder much on its meaning. Once inside, your task became painfully clear. You were to milk the guests for the required ingredients.
Having their way with you is a treat in itself, but seeing you struggle with your small, human hands, trying to figure them out? Priceless. Well, for them, anyways. Despite your protests, you have left your morning shifts with a ridiculous number of tips. Maybe it's the way you look up through your lashes as you explain: "Of course I know your weak spot. You're one of my- our regulars." Or maybe it's the way you tease your favorites, wondering out loud, with a grin, if you should have some of the generous release for your own lunch later.
Your hard work has not gone unnoticed. The centaur head manager recently made the sheepish suggestion of having you at the receiving end of this new service, trying his best to sound convincing, and hiding the fact it’s been his most ardent wish for the past couple of weeks. Maybe he will get his breakfast topping, after all.
[Monster Hotel] | [More Monsters]
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Going to the Hero Awards with Katsuki for the first time:
You and Mina had been doing prep ALL DAY. The hair, the makeup, final dress fittings, you name it. It was kinda nice, like a self pampering that was being funded by the best boyfriend of all time. Katsuki had given you his card and told the both of you to go nuts. He had to work the day of so he’d be getting home just in time to get ready and leave.
Mina had helped you pick out the cutest dress you’d even seen and it was orange to match Katsuki’s hero theme. Your other accessories being black with slight hints of green here and there.
You’re not gonna lie, you were VERY nervous. This was a big award for him. He’d ended up being number six at the last one and this was the year he breaks into the top 5.
Kats has been acting like it’s not a big deal but you’ve been able to feel how anxious he’s really been. So tonight you were gonna focus on holding yourself together and being there for him in whatever way he needed.
You were touching up your makeup just a little when you heard the front door open. He’s running behind.
“Fuck, I know I’m late. I gotta hop in the shower and FUCK! I never picked up my clothes from the-“, he was pacing around the room like a madman.
“Hey, hey.” And you placed your hands on his shoulders to steady him for a minute. “I have your clothes, they’re hanging up in the closet above your shoes. I have your hair stuff laid out on the counter and you might wanna get a quick shave in too.” You say as you run your hands along his stubble.
And he takes a deep breath. And then another.
“Thanks, I got sidetracked at work and time got away from me.”
“ ‘s fine. You’ve got time. Go ahead and hop in the shower and let me know if your need anything, yeah?”
He leans down a places a soft kiss to your forehead and then heads for the bathroom.
Yeah, this was gonna be a long night.
When Katsuki comes out of the bathroom he’s gotta towel wrapped around his waist and he’s looking a lot more himself.
You were sitting down putting on your shoes, but you stop and look up because you noticed he’s not moving anymore.
“What’s wrong?” You ask him.
“You look…… incredible” and the way you start blushing is insane. You cant even make eye contact with him. His compliments are usually never that straightforward. It shocked you a bit.
“Thanks” you whisper softly. And then outta the corner of your eye you see him striding toward you.
“Kats-“ but your lips are covered by his and you just know he’s gonna be covered in your lipstick.
When he pulls back he has a full grin on his face.
“Damn, I feel a lot better now. Gonna have the hottest woman on my arm and I’m gonna finally be in the top 5. Was worried about nothin.”
The smile that shines in your eyes is worth a million dollars.
“You’re not gonna have any of that if you don’t finish getting dressed so we can leave.” And you start pushing him away. “Go. Hurry up”
“Yeah yeah, ‘m goin” he mumbles as he walks away.
“And wipe the lipstick off your face” you shout behind him.
You guys manage to make it just before the doors close for the event and you’re sat at a table with Eijirou and Mina.
They go through the whole spiel of course before they start announcing the Hero’s in their order.
This year Pinky was number 18 which was 6 whole spots higher than last year and Red Riot broke into the top 10 sitting at number 8. You cheered so loud for your friends, but you didn’t fail to notice that Kats hand had slipped into yours and was holding on pretty tight.
He kept a straight face but he was beyond wrecked on the inside. You look over at him and give the the most encouraging smile you can muster.
The numbers continued to be listed off they’d finally gotten into the top 5. He hadn’t heard his name at 5 or 4.
“Coming in as the number 3 Hero in Japan, Great Explosion Murder God: Dynamight. “
He’d broken into the top 3!! You looked over at him and his face was as stoic as ever. Ever the cool man on the outside. This man leaned over, placed a quick kiss to your lips and then walked onto the stage to accept his prize.
“Ugh, yea I worked hard for this. It’s well deserved. Thanks to my agency and the best girl a guy could ask for…. Next year I’ll be number 1.” And then He just walks off.
Everyone else had given these heartfelt speeches but his was of course sweet simple and to the point.
Katsuki has grown up, doesn’t mean he’s changed all that much.
Number 1 ends up being Izuku for the second year in a row. When he walks past Katsuki they hug and congratulate each other. You were happy to see how far their relationship had come.
After the awards are given out, they had back to their seats and you guys have dinner. After, Everyone goes around congratulating and thanking. Most of them kissing ass really, but you digress. You’re in the middle of talking to some agent you really have no interest in talking to when you feel a warm arm wrap around your waist.
“I’m taking her now.”, you hear him say as he starts dragging you off.
“Hey, that was really rude.”
“Too damn bad. I’m number 3 hero, I do what I want” he says and you can hear the smirk on his face.
“Where are you taking me, Mr. Bigshot” ?
“Home. We came, we saw, we conquered. Now I get to have my real prize all to myself.
“And what would that be?” You ask as coyly as you can muster.
“Obviously you dummy. Wanna see how good that dress looks bunched around your waist” he whispers against your ear.
That has you walking with a pep in your step to get out to your car and home.
This had turned out to be a lot better than you’d expected it to.
Katsuki Masterlist
@dreamcastgirl99
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What We Want - Chpt. 7 - Black N' White Knight
In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe
(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!
SUMMARY
Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.
Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?
As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.
And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.
Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?
(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)
PREV - NEXT
“I can’t believe that just happened,” Dick tells Tim, hand carting through his hair. The two of them are in the kitchen, at the breakfast bar. Tim sitting in front of his laptop with his legs crossed, and Dick tapping one foot agitatedly against the marble floor. While Tim might not be grinning ear to ear, it’s pretty obvious for anyone who knows him that he’s delighted by the tale Dick just regaled to him.
And what a tale it was. He hasn’t seen you in a year and a half, and then when he does, he finds you teary eyed staring at a picture of him shirtless at the gym. Bruce had always told him the way he played with the paparazzi would come to bite him in the ass one day, but he really can’t say he expected… that.
Obviously, it had to be a prank. That’s his first thought. That’s his only thought, really. What other explanation could there be? An accident? Maybe you’d forgotten what his room looked like. It wasn’t like he kept much personal stuff in his Wayne manor room, the only markers his clothes and the letters he kept in his drawer from his parents.
And you were wearing his clothes, of all things. He’d be surprised if you forgot how much of a Superman fanboy he was, seeing as he’d spent many hours ranting to you before the explosion. So, a prank. A show of good will, an olive branch maybe? It was more likely you were just fucking with his head, as you’d done in the past. Never like this, though.
This was just… bizarre.
“I can’t either,” and of course, Tim sounds near estatic saying that. The love of chaos ran true in that one.
Dick had managed to wrangle his life under control a few years back, and despite the universe seeming to try to unravel it at the seams, he was indisposed to let it simply happen. Even if you of all people had changed. No, Dick was getting older, and he was finding his taste for chaos a lot more… limited.
He didn’t want to suffer it’s affects. He was currently suffering it’s affects.
“I knew something was going on when she showed up to the party, but this…” Tim pauses, leaning back in his chair, “It’s gotta be a prank, right?”
It said a lot about their family that this was all the assumption they defaulted to.
“It could be something else. Did you even take her to the hospital after?” Dick offers instead, overthinking as always. This situation seemed to be made for overthinking, though.
Tim hums. “No, we did not.”
Then he turns his stare to Dick, like he’s expecting something from him.
“Seriously?”
“What? You’re the friendly one.”
Dick very much did his best to seem like the friendly one, at least. Tim was well aware it was a complete farce, though. Dick was nice but he could also be a bit… well… a bit of a dick. Another thing he’d been trying to overcome. He was doing better than when he’d been seven, at least.
Dick sighs, pressing his hand to his forehead, “I’d probably just end up accidentally nagging her, and then she’d never speak to me again.”
“That’s not my problem,” Tim shrugs, glancing back down at his laptop and squinting.
“It is, actually. Because if she stopped talking to me you’d probably be the next one till the girls and Duke came home who has to talk to her.”
“She could talk to Jay,” Tim offers, because he’s a shithead. Dick bets he did the same with Bruce, “And besides, I’m busy doing surveillance.”
“You mean stalking.”
“I do it to everybody, stop making such a big deal out of it.”
Dick sighs again.
“Hm, you might want to check your phone,” Tim says, in a way that suggests he has once again tapped the network. Keeping him out of Dick’s private life was like Sisyphus and his boulder. He still wasn't going to give up, and the time Tim and Steph mercilessly bullied him for getting dumped over text had made him all the more so.
‘Dont_try’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx
“Please, tell me you sent that and are just messing with me,” Dick begs, staring down at his phone in mild despair. Chaos. Always fucking chaos. Despite how hard he tried, he could not keep his family out of trouble. God damn it, when he’d gotten this job he’d been the one made for trouble. Where did he go wrong?
“Honestly, sounds like the sort of thing I’d do, but the girl just got bitch slapped so I really think you should respond fast.”
“What?!”
“She’s fine now, run to the bathrooms I think. You know for such an upstate place you’d think they had better camera positioning,” Tim mutters, complaining that he can’t watch every single little movement you make. Dick thinks he should probably worry about this, as it’s a clear sign of another decline for his sanity, but he’s now got this shit to deal with.
“Why, Tim? What is going on? Just tell me what’s going on.”
“Hm?” he’s engrossed by the computer, “Ah, the shitty boyfriend… some soup- ha, how is she such a clutz? Maybe we should get her head checked again- and… an altercation of some kind? I don’t know, I can’t see it properly.”
Dick leans forward in his stool, clasped hands covering his face for a moment.
“Are you going to reply? If you don’t soon, she’ll probably make it a bigger shitshow,” Tim says, nudging his foot against Dick’s. Dick, good big brother that he is, takes a deep breath and steadies himself. Even if this is really not what he wanted for his holiday, he’s dealt with much, much worse.
The press will have forgotten about this within the week. You, however, likely not. He’d promised to help you all those years ago, and even if he had no idea why you were reaching out to him, or if you would even be amicable when you met again, he’d still damn well do it.
He glances back down at his phone.
“What is going on?” Dick repeats to himself, and Tim’s head cocks to the side. There’s that familiar cat that got the cream grin spreading across his younger brother’s face, and it just really isn’t welcome right now.
“Intrigued yet?”
Unfortunately for both him, Tim and especially you, Dick already was.
He’s in his car in five minutes flat, finger tapping against the premium leather wheel. The sound of it is the only thing that manages to keep him sane.
Riding up to the place, Dick realises that no, maybe the press won’t be over this within the week. Considering the amount of paparazzi swarming the place, he doubted you’d be free for at least a few months. To be fair, the mysterious ex-wayne making such a scene was a bit of a big deal. Before you’d been basically invisible, despite your immense wealth and past.
Invisible? Dick thinks he spots at least twenty cameras. And that’s not even mentioning all the phones inside that would’ve gotten up close videos of whatever happened. Their legal team would handle it fine, that which Barbara or Tim couldn’t wipe from the face of the earth. And that was very little, all things considered.
Dick has to push past the calls of his name, ignoring all the intrusive questions volleyed his way like the pro he was. He still makes sure to listen carefully and store away every vital bit of information, as well as remember the logos on the film crew’s van. Eventually he makes his way to the front of the line, and the flustered front of house immediately recognises his face and sweeps him inside. Dick ducks in with a thankful smile, which he admits, falters when he enters the scene.
A scene which you are not in. Your gold digging boyfriend was, though. Of all the things Dick regrets with you, it’s not breaking the horrid relationship the two of you had apart. Or well, the fact that you totally, loudly hated his guts. He was a sensitive guy, y’know!
He sees your terribly boyfriend - George, Dick remembers - raging at some poor servers, and he knows he need to go sweep in and save the pour soul. It’ll be a hard fight, he can already tell.
Before he does so, he sends a quick text to his phone.
Underwear_guy: Where are you?
Don’t_try: I’ll be right out.
Shockingly, that was the truth. You come striding into the restaurant, and immediately all eyes are on you. It makes you stutter-step. Dick can see you visibly stiffen up, before you manage to gather your courage and keep walking. You don’t even pay him a single glance as you walk straight towards your fuming boyfriend.
You try to whisper, keeping your voice quiet and your conversation private. The boyfriend seems uninterested in the idea.
“What the fuck are you thinking?!” he cuts you off.
You glance around, and then say something else. It seems like you’re trying to defuse the situation, but George seems uninterested by the idea.
“This behaviour is ridiculous. You need to get it together, we’re in public!” he yells, like he isn’t the one causing a scene. He seems to be trying to intimidate you back into silence. But today and well, yesterday too, something is different about you.
Okay, that’s enough of that. Dick’s intervening.
“You cheated on me! You deserve it and everything that’s coming to you!”
Or, uh, maybe you’ve got it covered.
-
George’s shocked face is almost worse than when you literally bit him. Guess he expected you to be a bit more demure after that encounter. He should know better, the other version of you seemed to have been even more spiteful in nature.
Today again, you prove you are a less than stellar person. You’d stopped caring about George as soon as you’d discovered he’d cheated, but you were still angry. Not jealous, but furious. Bubbling up your throat, rage and bile and the urge to attack him once again, even if you just want to go home.
Your teeth grind. Your jaw ticks. And oddly, you realise you have a real taste for George Lancaster’s limbs.
Though your life had changed (literally) in the past few days, you were still the same girl from your first twenty-first. You wanted George Lancaster to suffer. Even more so, now that the evil cunt had hit you right in the face. The hit had stunned you, though. More emotionally than physically, but it had shocked you.
You couldn’t say you were a coward. You’d spent far too many days in your teenage years indulging in self-destructive behaviours to think that. But something about this pathetic man was scaring the shit out of you. You think that made you more pathetic, but you couldn’t quite tell. That’d be victim blaming, right?
You did have a habit of blaming yourself. It was just usually your fault.
…Maybe you shouldn’t have bit him, no matter how much the response was instinctual or his screech was satisfying. This was all too confusing, all too much. You needed to get back to your apartment, lock the doors and barricade them so nobody bothers you. And then maybe hibernate for a week. You needed some time to process all the stupid bullshit you were experiencing. The wayne manor was too much, your horrible white apartment was too much, George fucking Lancaster was too fucking god damn much.
You take a deep breath, and manage to stop yourself from bolting like a deer. Deal with the problem at hand. Deal with it now, deal with it!
“I’m leaving, and we are done. It’s that simple,” you tell George, trying to drill in a message that he seems unable to comprehend. At this point you’d assume he’d be trying to apologise, manipulate back into his good graces, but you think you might’ve completely broke him. Broke the script.
Good. That was damn well good.
“Can we talk about this somewhere else at least?” George replies, eyes flicking to Richard Grayson’s angry gaze. At least you think he’s angry. You can’t quite gather the courage to look directly at him.
Also, there’s the manipulation! You wish you weren’t right this time.
“Sure, but I’m bringing him, and my answer will absolutely not change. You hit me.”
“You bit me!”
Well, yeah, not your best moment. You don’t think you can regret it, though.
“Then I think this relationship is ending on equal terms,” you reply, trying your best to just get him to quit it. It is obviously not working by the way his expression darkens.
“I’ll tell the press everything,” George threatens, which, well, is sort of a shitty threat because I don’t even know what he’s threatening. ‘Everything’? Couldn’t he be a bit more specific?
You shrug. It is the wrong response, you know it is, but you’ve completely ran dry of fucks to give. Couldn’t be much worse than the bullshit happening right now. The press were already very well fed, considering the situation that was today. George makes a small sound of fury.
“We’ll sue,” Richard Grayson, the white knight that you’d daydreamed about, comes to your rescue. Is it odd that it’s kind of flustering? You probably shouldn’t be flustered.
George immediately snaps his gaze to Grayson’s, giving the man a look with a healthy dose of fear. Couldn’t blame the guy. Even if he was the second smallest of the three remaining brothers, he was still well known for being strong. His family often did kick-boxing, and their sister, Cass, often whooped their asses. It was sort of satisfying to watch. Anyway, his physical prowess from fighting to weirdo gymnastic bullshit was evident in his svelte build.
George was many things, but he wasn’t an idiot. With just the one threat from the Waynes legal team, he skitters away like the little rat you know him to be. He leaves the restaurant, and he very obviously does not pay or even leave a tip. You suppose you have the cash to make up for it. Then, ignoring the paparazzi, you were technically home free. You glance to the side. Richard Grayson’s beautiful face looks a mix of confuddled, frustrated, and exhausted. He still saved you, though, even after the fool you made of yourself.
White knight, indeed. It almost feels a bit anticlimactic, but it’s the results you wanted. And yet, an ominous feeling befalls you. Somehow, you don’t feel you’ve seen the last of George Lancaster. You just really hope the old you hadn’t committed any crimes. A tabloid? Humiliating, but livable. Prison? Not so much.
Not that the rich stayed in prison in Gotham, or even the rest of the world. It was kind of strange to realise you were sort of above the law now.
You glance at Dick, pulling your uncomfortably wet shirt away from your chest. You’ve sort of been bled dry of any shits you could give at this point, so you decide, very maturely, to make jokes and ignore all your problems. It had gotten you this far.
You’d seen this behaviour before. Many, many times. It was what usually got you fired. But now you didn’t really have to worry about that, so why should you worry about causing a scene and ruining your life a bit more? It wasn’t yours, after all.
“What do you think?” you joke, elbowing Dick. He looks down from glaring at the entrance George just slipped out of, to you. His blue eyes are a damn near shock to the soul. It takes everything in you not to start fidgeting.
“Think of what?” he responds, and despite how hard you try, you can not read his expression.
“I’m trying to make some more news. Don’t think the reporters got enough the other day,” you say, gesturing to the giant stain. It’s still Dick’s shirt. You hadn’t realised till now, but the Beatles was now some sort of green soup. Is it kind of gross of you to acknowledge that at least the soup smelled good?
Probably. You didn’t actually get to eat anything here. It’s also probably a bit weird that you’re thinking about eating at a time like this. Probably.
“I think you’ve done enough, honestly,” he says, glancing at the camera flashes from outside.
He sounds exactly like your mother, it’s almost uncanny. Well, this version of him technically knew her. You’re still not sure how well en-meshed your two families had been before the disaster, but maybe he’d picked up some traits from her.
…That… you’re not sure how to feel about the idea. The old green monster bubbles up at the thought, and you can’t tell if you’re jealous your mum got to meet Dick Grayson, or that Dick Grayson might’ve gotten to know your mum.
“We should leave,” he says, cutting off your bitter inner thoughts, “I know you don’t like it when the magazines bother you.”
You don’t? You don’t. Yes, that makes sense, ‘you’ definitely wouldn’t have. And it’s not like you feel comfortable with them either. In fact, if you think about the fact your drowned rat appearance will be on every tabloid in the city by tomorrow, probably alongside photos from your birthday, you feel so nauseous you could collapse. Going to compartmentalise that one.
“Yes, going, let’s go,” you say, following Dick out of the restaurant.
Despite the fact that the security guards are trying their best, it’s getting quite rowdy out here. When Dick wraps an arm around your shoulder, shielding you with his body, you almost just pass out right there. His muscles… Your heart simply can’t take it. As it is, Dick notices you jump like a foot in the air, and backs off. He still makes sure to try and protect you from their vision as much as possible.
Still, in an act that is purely rebellious, you turn and give them a big smile and a wave. Even as you hate every single person on the other side of the divide, you want to make one thing very clear. You will not be cowed by someone like George fucking Lancaster. Your peace sign and wink are a message to them, to him, and to yourself.
Despite the fact that this new life is one you have no idea how to handle, you know one thing. Put on a face, and it’ll always be easier.
Dick is probably wondering what the hell happened to you for you to be acting this way. Your shirt has a giant stain on it, you just broke up with your cheating boyfriend, went through a traumatising experience just a few days ago, and you’ve got the biggest grin on your face. This behaviour speaks more and more of a full blown mental breakdown. And it’s not the first you’ve had or the last.
There’s paparazzi snapping thousands of photos of the two of you, and instead of shying away as ‘you’ used to, you throw up a peace sign. One of the papps drops their camera. That confuses you a bit, as your peace sign deflates slightly. Didn’t they want more pictures? Weren’t you supposed to pose…?
For all you stalked celebrities online, you realise you have no idea how to pretend to be one. This is going to become an issue, you can already tell.
He points at a car, and you assume it’s his because he starts making his way over. He’s obviously done this sort of thing before, using and guiding the security with a smooth confidence. Even still, the two of you are a bit too close for comfort.
Which you prove, by putting your foot directly in your mouth.
“I don’t have abs, but do you think the press would like my stomach like they like yours?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. Another poor joke. You are deflecting so hard. And why the hell did you bring that up, you dunce? You feel your brain cells draining the more you’re around this guy, it’s not healthy for you.
“Please don’t pull your shirt up in public,” Dick sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. It’s spreading, like the plague. You’re patient zero, of course. Even still he gets you guys to the car, and opens the side door for you. You follow his wordless command and slip into the passenger seat.
“I won’t. Sorry, sorry,” you reply, to relieve him of some of the trauma you’re currently inflicting.
He glances back to the papps, and then back down at you. His smile bowls you over like he’s getting the last strike in a fucking 300. He genuinely is the most beautiful human being you’ve ever seen. Thankfully, he closes the door so you have a moment to gather your sanity before he goes around the car and gets in the driver’s seat.
You hope you’re subtle when you shift away from him slightly. It shouldn’t be that surprising really. You were stupid on average. You would be stupider around attractive people. You would be frankly disastrous around someone as blastingly hot as Dick Grayson. The Waynes in general turned you into a drooling idiot.
Good god, you need to get out of this car. As soon as you think that, Dick is pulling away from the parking spot and out onto the streets. He makes slow progress because Gotham traffic, but eventually you manage to flee the horrifying stares of the cameras. Already you can tell it’ll be giving you nightmares. Probably along with images of the guy who tried to rape you and Damian Wayne sneering at you.
“So, how are you feeling?”
Despite how you wish it not, Mr. Grayson decides he’s going to start a conversation with you.
“Good,” you reply, the answer instinctive and an obvious lie.
You can feel his gaze on the side of your face, but you don’t dare return it.
“That’s good to hear,” he says, and his voice is gentle. Sort of infantilising if you’ll be honest.
While it is very clear to anyone who looks at you that you have no idea what you’re doing, you’d rather he didn’t bring it up. You’ll figure it out. You’ve always managed to figure it out. This is what you get for asking for help. Really, despite your momentary panic you could’ve taken George. Probably not physically, but…
“You can talk to me if you want, you know?”
“Can you stop the car, please?” you respond, when that question immediately activates your fight or flight response. Dick must notice something about you, because he quickly shoots forward and into a momentarily available parking spot.
You scramble with the door, shoving your way back out onto the asphalt. The immediate distinct smell of Gotham, even Gotham’s richer districts, calms you down. Sewage, the ocean, and the ever present smoke and fog.
Fuck’s sake. You aren’t making yourself look anymore well put together.
Clearing your throat, you turn and find Richard Grayson coming around the car hood towards you. There’s a worried look in his eyes, and you really don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like you made a deal with the devil. By getting rid of George, you’d gotten a new problem - and an infinitely more complicated one.
Shit, you need to stop making rash decisions when you’re having panic attacks. You’d say you should probably try and stop having panic attacks entirely, but you don’t really know how to do that.
The sound of your name has you snapping back to attention. Dick looks even more worried.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, taking a few slow steps towards you. Again, infantilizing. Like you’re a wild animal about to run. Wait, weren’t you just comparing yourself to a chihuahua? Well, it’s not the same when other people do it.
“I’d like to take a walk,” you say, hand scrunching into your pyjama pants, “Alone, I’d like some time alone.”
“…In that?” He glances down at the stain that is slowly starting to dry. It’s making your skin itchy, but at least it’s not as cold.
“I can buy something,” you say, remembering one of the apps on your phone was connected to your bank account, which you had to assume was pretty full. It’s kind of stupid that you haven’t checked that yet.
You’re starting to feel a bit defensive towards your own intelligence. Maybe it’s because you seemingly keep making all the worst decisions.
Dick doesn’t make it any better.
“Do you have cash on you?” he asks, showing how little faith he has in your general abilities to survive as an adult in Gotham.
“I do, I’ll be fine,” you insist, because god damn it, you will be. You just need a fucking minute.
You ran from the Wayne manor because you felt like you were being watched, and then as soon as you showed up at the world’s most uncomfortable apartment, the haunting wraith known as George dragged you out in your P.J.s. You could figure it the fuck out, if these people would give you some fucking space.
Richard Grayson seems to realise that you’re getting upset, because he goes quiet for a moment. After staring at you for a moment longer, for which you manage to find the courage to maintain eye contact through pure stubborn will, he asks you one final question.
“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home or something?” he asks, still seeming so determined to help you.
His suggestion brings flashes of images of you breaking down in front of the Bruce Wayne to mind. From almost a birds eye view, you see yourself sobbing against your own ruined dress as the billionaire looked on. Bile literally jumps up your throat, and it takes a lot of willpower not to grimace at the suggestion.
“Look, Mr. Grayson, I really appreciate-”
“That’s the second time you’ve called me that.”
Once again, you feel the urge to simply sprint away from your own problems, but you manage to hold yourself still. Still, you can’t think of a solution. You can’t really think much of anything. Instead you stare at Richard Grayson with your hands threaded together and your lips pressed into a thin line.
Though you open your mouth to speak, you find you have no excuses ready or available. You’ve talked yourself into a corner already, and it’s your third day in this world. Marvellous. Maybe you should just tell the truth.
Still, the dangers outweigh the pros. They don’t know you, they don’t have any real reason to take care of you. If they believe you, they’ll toss you out onto the streets penniless. And if they don’t-
You blink. There’s a highway sign behind Dick, and it catches your attention like a lightning bolt. ‘Arkham Asylum 800 miles’. It’s white blocky letters on green panelling feels like a sign from god, warning you from the path you consider taking.
And then you realise that you might actually get sent to Arkham if you say anything, and you resolve to never tell a single soul about what has happened to you. You’ve heard enough stories about the asylum, and by god, you are not being roommates with the fucking Joker of all people.
Eventually Dick realises he’s not getting anything out of you and he sighs, shaking his head. His annoyingly perfect hair mesmerises you for a second, but you manage to wrangle your brain back under control. He really doesn’t make it easy.
“I just want to know if you’re safe. If you’re going through anything, you know we’re always happy to help-”
“Dick,” you say his name, face twisting in discomfort, “This was a… a one time thing. Usually I can handle my problems. It just… it caught me off guard. George cheating was a huge shock, and I needed someone to stand by me.”
“And you know I always will, right?”
Ah. That’s… Dick Grayson was a stranger. You didn’t know him, and more than that he did not know you. He did not know what you would do, could do. You didn’t think anyone did, not even yourself.
It’s a silly idea to expect your celebrity crush to save you, and it’s one you find you can’t stomach it at the moment. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself at the idea. It’s too indulgent, too silly. It’s very simply, not possible.
You’ve given up on relying on miracles. These lessons had been beaten into you, really. You didn’t want to have to learn them again.
Your feelings must show on your face.
Dick lets out a whoosh of air, frustration palpable. He carts his hand through his hair. It still looks perfect. The world is unfair, yadda yadda.
“You run hot and cold, you know?” he gives you a grin. It says a lot about his ability to act, seeing as it seems almost natural. Almost, being the key word.
Also, he is absolutely correct. The chihuahua effect is in full-swing. And you know what? You are probably going to continue to run hot and cold, because you’ve never made a decision in your life. He’ll just have to get used to it.
You raise your hands and shrug, in the universal ‘what-can-you-do?’ motion. He wasn’t wrong. You were being completely erratic. Not even you knew what you’d do next. At least life isn’t boring these days, right Right? You wonder who you are trying to fool, because it’s certainly not yourself.
“I’ll contact you if I need anything,” you lie, because it seems to be the right thing to end this torturous conversation, “And I’ll make sure to keep contact with Alfred. You can talk to Jeanine if you need anything, as well.”
Dick, unfortunately, calls you out on your bullshit.
“But not you, right?” he says, smile still printed on his face.
Woof. You think… you’ve hurt his feelings? Ah shit, you instantly feel like the scum of the earth. Still, you don’t know how you could fix this. Arkham is a genuine threat lingering over your shoulder, you don’t know enough about your new cut-throat billionaire world, and you can not lose any faith they have in you. Any that you have left, that is.
You’re sorry, but this is coming down to survival. And you are a greedy person, after all.
In the end, you don’t have anything to say, and Richard Grayson leaves without a word. Watching him walk towards his car, you feel… bad. Really bad. The part of you that is still crushing on this guy, a very large part of you, feels like you’ve ended the earth. The other part, the one that recognises that once again you’re going to have to fight for yourself… well, she thinks so too.
Maybe… maybe you could fix this. Apologise. Once you’ve gotten your bearings and know you’re safe and 100% financially stable, maybe you’ll figure it out. Give him his shirt back after you’ve dry-cleaned it.
For now, you give him your back as well.
MASTERLIST - NEXT
#Series:WWW#yandere batfam#batfam x reader#yandere dc#yandere batfamily#yandere x reader#dick grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#tim drake x reader#red robin x reader#damian wayne x reader#robin x reader
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Hobie x fem reader where he gets a little jealous that’s shes been hanging out with another guy and she reassures him
NO NEED TO BE JEALOUS
— Hobie Brown ★
PAIRING: Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader
A/N: The Hobie brainrot is crazy
You crawled out of bed in a rush since you were already late to your hangout with Miles, accidentally waking up your boyfriend in the process. “Where you off to?” He asked groggily watching as you quickly grabbed a shirt and shimmied into your pants. “Hanging out with Miles!”
“Miles Morales?”
“Yeah, I told you this last night.”
You smirked at his muttered “Of course its Miles” but carried on getting ready like you didn’t hear it.
You put on mascara quickly and checked the time again. “What do you do when you’re with him?” He asked curiously. You looked at him as he propped his elbow on the bed and looked at you tiredly. “Not much,” you chuckled, “He’s been helping me with my drawings recently, giving me tips and all of that boring stuff.”
He nodded and opened his mouth to say something before you cut him off, “Shit I gotta go. I’ll see you later, I love you!” You kissed his head and grabbed one of Hobie’s jackets before running off. He groaned and rolled over to put his head into his pillow. He trusted you, he really did, but he didn’t know Miles too well.
He was a good kid it seemed but you had been spending a lot more time with Miles than you were with Hobie. But Hobie wasn’t jealous, of course not! He didn’t get jealous. He just wished you spent more time with your actual boyfriend than with a kid you just met.
That was it.
That night Hobie waited in your room for you to come home. You ended up coming home at 9 o’clock at night. You stepped through the portal and immediately greeted your boyfriend. “Oh hey, you’re still here?” You asked as you sat on the bed next to him. “Yeah, you were out late.” You looked at the clock and grimaced, “Were you waiting this whole time?”
Hobie nodded in reply and you kissed his cheek, “I’m sorry I kept you waiting. Miles and I were spray painting all the spider people we’re friends with and it’s super cool. You should come see it sometime!” You ranted as you got up from your position on the bed and changed into more comfy clothes, that being an oversized t-shirt of Hobies and some sweatpants.
“You spent the whole day with him?”
“Yeah,” you replied nonchalantly as you laid down on the bed, sighing as your back his the comfy mattress.
You patted the spot next to you and Hobie moved to sit upright against the headboard. “Are you okay?” You asked looking up at him. “Fine, just fine,” he responded in a way that told you he was definitely not just fine. You put a hand on his arm and moved to prop yourself up so that you were now sitting upright against the headboard as well.
“What’s wrong?”
You would be lying if you said his crossed arms and slight pout didn’t amuse you. You knew exactly what was wrong, you just wanted to mess with him a bit. This was about Miles. Everytime you mentioned his name you saw Hobie roll his eyes or you heard a small annoyed groan. It was funny to you, but you couldn’t tell him that.
“You’re spending a lot of time with this Miles fella, don’t you think?”
You hid your smile and shrugged, “Guess so. He’s just a good friend is all.”
“A good friend?” He repeated, “You’ve known him three days tops.”
“Hobie?”
“What?”
“Do you think you might be jealous of Miles?”
He made a weird face and you laughed. “It’s okay to admit it you know,” you gave him a teasing smile and put your chin on his shoulder. “You’re kinda hot when you’re jealous.”
He rolled his eyes and gently pushed your head off his shoulder, “Shut up. Ain’t jealous.” Your smile turned into a grin, “Right, is that why you can’t even look at me when you say it?” He turned his head to look at you and gave you a glare. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you aren’t jealous,” you said with a small laugh.
“You serious?”
“Extremely.”
He hated how much fun you were getting out of this but couldn’t help the small smile that formed on his lips. "M' not jealous of some 15 year old.” You hummed, “Thought you hated labels.” He shook his head and out of no where grabbed your waist and put you on his lap. He laughed at the yelp you let out and you hit his shoulder. “You could’ve given me a warning!”
“You didn’t deserve it.”
You scoffed, “You are unbelievable, Hobie.”
“What? You don’t like me teasing you, after all you’ve said to me?” You stayed silent with a pout on your lips and he kissed your forehead, “Cmon now, ’s just fun and games, love.” “Jus fun and games, love.” You mimicked with your familiar smile returning back to your face. You laughed at his reaction before leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder and put your arms around him.
“Back to the main point, you are jealous.”
He let out a breath and nodded, “Suppose so.”
“Ha! I knew it!”
“Ay! Just a bit. Lets not forget that you were jealous of Gwen one time.”
“Okay, shut up.”
He laughed and you smiled, “I just want you to know you’re the only guy I want. You’re cooler than Miles, but don’t tell him I said that,” you warned as you observed the dumb smirk on his face. “I wont.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He put his arms around your torso and you both stayed like that until you fell asleep.
Maybe he was stupid to be jealous of Miles but the outcome was completely worth it.
#dizzy writes?! 😵💫#hobie brown#hobie brown x reader#spiderpunk x reader#spiderpunk#spider man across the spider verse
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PAC: Energy Check~ for wherever you are right now
This was completely unplanned but frankly spirit doesn't give a fuck about my plans. So if this found you, here are some messages you probably need right now-
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pile 1: Ooh.. as I was preparing to start your reading, I saw 11:11 as the Chariot card showed up for you. This. Tells me that you are pretty strongly connected to your divine path right now, which simply means that you're doing something that's keeping you in alignment, sweet pile one! Good job! Keep going down this road because you WILL stumble upon amazing experiences and people! This message is coming through quite strongly. Now, isn't that lovely? Hehe.
Here's the thing, though.. Although you're actually IN alignment with your greatest timeline and life, you seem to be completely UNAWARE of the fact! You might be going through the necessary purging emotionally and/or mentally as a result of this alignment since the "old stuff" has no more room in your new vibration anymore. So, you've probably had to go through some intense endings and/or tower moments in life lately and THIS has left you feeling really, really sad. Maybe even depressed. For some of you, if that's the case, please seek help, sweet soul. It doesn't have to be therapy but even as simple as talking to a trusted loved one, you know? Or even journaling about it could help if you're into it. It seems like you could use a new perspective on the things you're going through right now. I'm sensing that you might be feeling emotionally numb right now too, but that's because you've been doing a lot of emotional processing lately AND IT'S ALL PAYING OFF. I just need you to know that. You just can't see it right now because you're slap dead in the middle of the storm, and I'm looking at it from a bird's eye view, you know?
While you're purging old stuff, I also see you making your way through an old core belief - "I gotta work hard to be deserving of anything because I inherently don't" Or something along those lines. You may have started purging this belief as a result of life showing you that it's simply not something worth keeping alive inside you. Maybe recently, you caught yourself overworking yourself to death only to receive very little in return (in any area of your life - relationships included) and this experience helped you wake up to this unhelpful belief of yours. You're unlearning this belief as we speak. It's not easy though, but I CAN assure you, you're acing it.
If you find yourself worrying too much about anything and everything or simply feeling a general fear, just know that it's a normal reaction to having things uprooted in your life. Life, right now, is asking you to do your best to focus on what's right in front of you because if you do this, the future is guaranteed to sort itself out. I promise.
I love you so much, pile 1. I see all your hard work and am rooting for you SO hard, bro. Love and light.
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Pile 2: Seems like to me that y'all have been STUCK in a particular pattern for a while now, maybe years? For some of you folks reading? Let me spell it out for you what this pattern looks like to me - an imbalance of the mind and heart. Too much mind and too little heart. Maybe none at all.
I can't seem to tap into the root of this imbalance, maybe because it's different for each of you reading, OR maybe it's not relevant to us right now because you can simply begin to address this imbalance as you see it in your day-to-day. But I sense that you're really good at addressing things, so once you're conscious of this pattern going on subtly in the background, running your life, you can really do something about this. This pattern may show up as you struggling with feeling fear, and this is blocking you off to one very important thing fear is here to show us, and that is how to support ourselves. If we are afraid of something we desire and have a healthy relationship with fear, we go for the desire while caretaking our fear. I read a quote the other day, it said "Do that thing you love but if you find that you're scared, then go do it scared." The point I'm trying to make is, fear isn't going to go away on its own, it's you who will simply expand your ability to hold space for it AND your desires equally. When you figure out how to do this, magic will happen in your life. You'll find that your unwillingness to caretake your fear only gave you more things to be afraid of (because, hello, Law Of Attraction *lol*), BUT you'll also find that when you radically start taking responsibility for your fear(s), you'll be able to act from a wiser space and be your full badass self. You'll find that there are so many things you CAN do and so much life you CAN live. Everything you've wanted to start doing in life will start to happen almost seamlessly. It WILL surprise you big time. You're currently making your way through an important part of your healing, and that is to hold yourself in all your glory. To hold all parts of yourself, even the ones that are scared shitless. Once you've integrated this segment of your healing, SO many doors will unlock for you. Sweet soul, you have no clue of JUST HOW MANY. And this… is probably because you manifest with your heart primarily (meaning you feel things deeply and so you unknowingly tap into the frequency of what you want easily) and your fear is keeping you stuck in your head, which means you're only 40% of the full You right now, PRIOR the healing of c. You might even feel it sometimes. You might feel like you're only a shell of a person (been there myself, you're not alone in this!). Listen to that feeling. Your truth lies in there. You're meant to be the 100% you, and I see that you're already halfway there!
I love you so much, pile 2, sending you so much light and love. Hope you find the resources you need to make it through to your new life where you live in more love than fear.
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Pile 3: Man… y'all been fighting for your lives, huh? I see that you may be in the midst of a lot of divinely evoked darkness? Lol, I literally heard that - divinely evoked darkness. Maybe you're going through a dark night of the soul, perhaps? Whatever your're going through though, it seems like you've been hanging on for dear life.
Some good news for you- no matter the circumstances you're in right now (be it good, bad, or terrible), you've been doing all the work necessary to keep your head above water and have been diligently nurturing your own light, positivity, and essence. THAT'S incredible resilience, sweet pile 3, and I'm really proud of you! It's not easy to keep an open heart through bad times, and that's such a grand achievement in my eyes. UGH, BEAUTIFUL.
Your energy SCREAMS transition period vibes. You seem to be neither in your "old" timeline nor in the new one yet. You're sorta hanging in the middle right now. I see the Hanged Man in the third eye as I tell you this. Feels like you're in the void right now, and things just seem… bleh. Boring. Colorless. This is probably because you're already done with the ugly part of the process, "the divine shakeups", the loss, and the purge. Think… the bland but peaceful feeling you feel after having an intense ugly crying session, you know? Yeah, you're energetically there right now. You'll probably be here for a while longer because you've let go of MAJOR stuff, pile 3. Did you let go of people recently, maybe? Or that old bad habit, perhaps? That was the purge, so to speak. And now you're in the aftermath of it all, the uncomfortable but necessary calm.
-Side note: You might've struggled to embody your divine feminine earlier, but the timeline you're entering right now is the exact opposite of that. You might be attracted towards things that will help you nurture your own divine feminine right now. Give into it. Nurture patience, stillness, and compassion for self. It will HOPEFULLY speed up the void period if you consciously take part in it, you know?-
You're quite emotionally intelligent, and it has guided you throughout the whole process, and it also seems like it ain't your first rodeo in the process of proverbial death and rebirth. Good on you because you're doing a real good job keeping your calm through venturing into the unknown. You know what? You remind me of Elsa from Frozen, taking on the unknown like it belongs to her. You are such a queen, omg.
Yep, all that's left to do now is celebrate yourself, pile 3! Try your best to embrace this period, the void, and you'll be on your way to your next happy adventure! Love and light, sweet soul. Thanks for sharing your energy with me today.
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#astrology community#spirituality#tarot#tarotcommunity#divination#tarot cards#tarot reading#pac reading#tarot readers#pac tarot#PAC free reading#energy check#tarotblr#free tarot#spiritual awakening#spiritualgrowth#consciousness#mysticism#PAC#pick a card reading#pick a pile#pick a card#pick a picture#tarot witch#tarot community#spiritual community#spiritual journey#dark night of the soul#kundalini awakening
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