#but I figured there would be another place it would do well

[lightseoul]

a/n. i really don't know where i'm going with this, y'all. but getting to role-play as a therapist and explore bakugou's psyche has been lots of fun, so bear with me. please let me know what you think and/or would want to see! maybe that'll give me an idea lol. (1.1k)

navigation. part 1, part 2, (you are here)

“n-no.”

at that, the woman’s eyebrows shoot up, disappearing underneath her fringe. “no?”

“you heard me,” bakugou spits instinctively, immediately regretting how hostile that sounded not even a second later. “i mean, no, i didn’t.”

his therapist, apparently unfazed by his show of aggression—she must’ve gotten used to it by now, although he still feels bad when he gets testy—only jots something down in her clipboard before looking back up at him, an inexplicable expression etched across her features.

“do you have any ideas, then, why, for the first time in seemingly forever, you’re fixating on a particular social encounter?”

bakugou barely manages to bite back a scowl.

he hates it—this part. the part where his psychologist obviously has theories as to why he’s acting a certain way or how he’s actually feeling but chooses to ask him instead, in an attempt to draw it out of him.

as if talking about difficult shit in the first place isn’t already painful enough.

and isn’t that what he’s paying her to do? give him answers? why’d he have to be the one to wrack his brain for uncomfortable answers to uncomfortable questions?

“do you?” he then challenges, emboldened by that train of thought just now.

“yes,” she responds truthfully and without missing a beat it somewhat surprises him. “but as i’ve explained to you before, i think it’ll be helpful for you if we try a more active approach on your end so that any insights gleaned from our discussions become more personalized and stick with you longer.”

well, then. fuck.

the lady’s got a point.

“so,” she continues when he doesn’t reply, annoyingly aware her little spiel got to him, “any ideas? working hypotheses?”

“uh,” he starts begrudgingly, eyes roving over the bookshelves lining the room’s walls as he struggles to come up with another angle. then it dawns on him, and he looks directly at the woman. “i didn’t expect to see someone in here, and when i did, it caught me off guard.”

“that may be because most of our clients opt for virtual consultations rather than face-to-face ones.”

“yeah,” he piles on quickly, admittedly thankful for the validation, and for the fact. the absolute last thing he needs is to bump into some extras before and after therapy. “that must be why.”

“but how does that explain your, and i quote, ‘dumb as shit reaction’?”

bakugou instantly feels himself flame. he clears his throat, “i told you, didn’t i? it caught me off guard. how the fuck did you expect me to react?”

that must’ve been a reasonable point, thank the fuck, because the woman pauses in thought before nodding slowly. “i suppose you’re right.”

he narrowly bites back an of course, i am.

but then she’s spouting off again.

“although it’s interesting to me how your immediate reaction was to say hi, when that’s not really…how should i say, your style, based on our prior sessions and your personality test results.”

a pause.

bakugou scrambles for a bulletproof rebuttal. he comes up short.

the lady cocks her head to the side, curious. “how often would you say you mull over social blunders?”

never, he thinks to himself. because they never happen.

“i figured as much,” comes her unexpected reply, and only then does it dawn on him that he said the last bit out loud.

“can we talk about something else?” he finds himself suddenly asking, totally over this entire conversation. he can worry about being a loser and pathetically begging for an out some other time. right now, he just needs a break.

“actually, you’re in luck,” she checks her smartwatch, “the session’s just about to end.”

at that, his shoulders almost instantly sag in relief, which makes the woman laugh. he shoots her a half-hearted glare.

they spend the next few minutes summarizing what has been discussed, as well as the arrangements for the following weeks, with bakugou eventually throwing his bag over his shoulders and bidding her a mumbled goodbye. he tosses her a nod over his shoulder as he crosses the threshold of her office, mind already drifting to what he’s going to cook himself for dinner.

and that, for a typical session, he’s walking out relatively unscathed.

but then he does the stupid thing of looking up from where he was studying his trainers when a door creaks open, and he freezes.

because standing a few feet away from him, right beside the entrance to the restroom, is you, equally frozen.

he doesn’t know how much time passes with him just staring at you like a motherfucking idiot, and you, strangely enough, peering at him back, but it’s you who eventually takes a hammer to the silence.

“h-hi,” you offer, voice soft and quiet, just like how he vaguely remembers it from two weeks ago.

“hey,” comes his gruff reply, which would’ve been immediately followed by a wince at how rough his tone was just now had he not stopped himself in the nick of time.

at least he didn’t stutter.

“…b-bakugou, right?” you ask after a moment of neither of you saying anything, confirming his earlier suspicions.

“right.”

you nod, a polite yet somehow stilted smile on your face, and suddenly he’s mentally slapping himself. since when was he fucking bound to one-word sentences?

he decides then and there that this shit won’t do.

in an attempt to convince himself that no, this is just a weird outlier of an encounter for him, and that no, he’s not a fucking idiot like dunce face, and that yes, he is and is being perfectly fucking normal, he resolves to ask you for your name.

and he was just about to do that—he swears he was—when someone from the other side of the door calls out a name, and you whip to face their direction, breaking eye contact.

“yes, doc!” you holler back, and he watches you as you hesitate in place for a second, before turning to face him with an awkward smile.

“nice meeting you, bakugou-san.”

and then you’re off and shutting the door behind you.

he stands there for what feels like a few minutes, just blinking at the door in front of him, what must be your name echoing—again and again—up to the far recesses of his mind.

then: fuck.

he may or may not have just lied to his therapist.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra @qyuin | @kalulakunundrum @cheezemanz @gold24fish @lunaryasha

[chevxyn]

how to figure out if it’s ‘itoshi sae’ or ‘honey’ a guide!

written fic; the difference between his personality to everyone else (media) and to his darling, you.

wc; 350+ words

itoshi sae x you

fluff, not proofread, lowercase intended, comfort, imagine + short fic.

note : english is not my first language! i’m sorry if there is some grammatical confusions 😕

to simply it; itoshi sae,

he is blunt, prideful, cold, serious, egoistic to the media. not caring about anything else but football. and doesn’t hold back, even going so far to degrade other people that don’t meet his standards, or too ‘lukewarm’ as he says.

but, honey?

he is gentle, caring, and loving man. someone that not the media can see, but only you. his darling lover. you as what they call ‘the only exception’ & one of his weakness. he could go to an interview after match, having slight little care about it. but when you come? his gaze would softened almost immediately.

you were in the front stands, as the game was about to end. why are you here? well, you were invited by your boyfriend to watch him.

using his jersey, you would cheer whenever he takes control of the ball. or when he would pass it perfectly to the other teammate.

as the full time whistle was heard, the players stopped. as re al, won 2-0 against the other team.

you were about to go to your boyfriend as cameras and mics suddenly crowded to go towards him, and you slowly stopped.

not noticing, your boyfriend’s eyes was locked onto yours. as the reporters surrounded him. he refused to talk to any of them. hell, even pushing them from his way. that’s what they knew of itoshi sae.

you stood there quietly, before he went to you, and hugged you immediately. as cameras clicked, he looked at you, “how’d i do?” he had asked, his eyes that was just cold towards the reporters that he pushed away suddenly softened as he locked that same eyes with yours.

“you did, amazing.” you said and you gave him that same smile, that made him fall inlove. “as per usual, of course.” you chuckled.

but as more and more pictures was took, the cameras click made you slightly uncomfortable, and when sae took notice of it, he immediately took you away from that crowd.

to another part of place, now usually he would go to the locker room, but since you’re here, he figured he’ll take you elsewhere.

he ended up taking you into one of the vip lounge, where it was just a private room for the two of you. “more comfortable here?” you nodded as he made that question.

it was an awkward silence, before he takes your hand and placed it ontop of his lips. “thank you,” he exclaimed and you raised your eyebrow at him, “for what?”

“being my best supporter yet,” he complimented as his other hand pulled you in by waist, seeking for confirmation, before leaning in and giving you a soft, gentle kiss. and now this is honey.

©chevxyn

[saintzweig]

bestfriend!tashi showing art and patrick how to properly eat someone eat ... by doing it on you :3 the four of you drunk off some beers you snuck into the boys' hotel room in the middle of the us open. tashi sat on the floor, leaning against the foot of the two beds pushed against each other. you're right next to her, laying your head on her thigh while playing with her hand that rested on your stomach. art and patrick across from you in just their pajamas and badly covered boners.

somehow, the conversation had moved from your college plans to how well you are in bed. patrick claims he's a sex god while art is more humble, and as far as you know, you and tashi pretty much had similar experiences which is pretty much just casual make out sessions (with others and each other) and mediocre sex with some boys you met at the tennis academy.

"i don't think i've ever orgasmed from head before" you absentmindedly confessed, watching at how the boys' eyes pretty much bulge out in surprise while tashi only hums, softly caressing the exposed skin of your torso.

"you mean like, were they bad or no one did it ... properly?" art formed his question carefully, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

you pursed your lips in thought, "i don't know, i guess like ... it felt weird, like they were all up in there. i don't think they knew what they were doing"

patrick took a sip from his drink, "aren't we supposed to be all up in there? i thought it was like, don't be afraid to be messy and shit like that"

"well yeah, i guess" you reply with a shrug, "it would be okay if it felt good but it didn't, so..."

tashi moves her hand from your stomach up to your hair, raking her fingers through. "have you ever made a girl orgasm like that?" her question directed to patrick. you and art turn towards his direction in anticipation.

"i'm sure i have"

"ah" tashi smirks, "so it's not definite"

patrick scoffs, rolling his eyes "have you?"

"yeah" your head snaps upwards to meet her gaze as she looks down on you, the two boys across sporting a surprised look on their faces.

"you have?" you asked, tashi wasn't exactly the straightest person you know but you never knew that she had actually done it with another girl, was it someone else on the tennis team? a classmate?

"so how do you do it then?" art innocently asks, leaning closer. tashi only shrugs, her fingers still moving gently through your hair. "just .. feel and observe, i guess. there's no techniques or anything, it feels different to everyone so you just have to figure out what makes them feel good."

"you sound like you've done it quite a lot" your voice was soft, a slightly puzzled expression on your face and tashi wasn't sure if it was jealousy, disbelief or amazement. she nods, "a few times, yeah"

patrick sits up properly, now on his knees and leaning over with his palms on the floor. "but how do you, you know– move your tongue?"

"that's really up to you, and it really isn't just about licking�� you can suck" the curly haired girl shrugs nonchalantly.

"suck?" the two boys repeated in unison, making tashi sigh. "it would be easier if i can show you"

and before you knew it, their gazes land on you. the four of you have done ... some things but never one that crossed a certain line, but that doesn't mean it never crossed your mind. it did, multiple times and now you're here.

the next thing you know, you're laying on the bed. propped up on your elbows as you watch tashi take her place between your legs. your heart racing against your chest as you feel her fingers ghost over your thighs, slowly pushing them apart. "this okay?" and you only nod, not trusting your voice at that moment.

the two boys knelt beside the bed, undoubtedly palming themselves at the sight. "just get on with it, damn" patrick calls out, earning a glare from tashi and a nudge from art, "shut the fuck up dude" the blonde mutters with his gaze still fixed on you.

you lift your hips up as tashi begins to tug your shorts down, revealing your lace panties. her breath hitches at the sign, purple lace panties with a wet patch. "were you waiting for this?" she laughs, you tell her it's laundry day.

she places a hand right next to your head, leaning down to place a kiss on your neck, your jaw and working her way up to your lips. there was almost a sigh of relief from you, which was quickly interrupted by a gasp as she pressed her fingers against your clothed cunt. "tash" you moan against her lips, "please."

and without wasting anymore time, your panties were thrown on the floor (which patrick quickly pocketed) and her mouth was on you. moist, warm, and incredibly skilled. tashi definitely knew what she was doing, sucking on your clit and occasionally tugging on it with her teeth, fucking your pussy with her tongue and then with her fingers. you were writhing on art's sheet uncontrollably– tugging on tashi's hair and attempting to pull her closer.

you weren't the only one that was noisy, patrick and art were furiously pumping each other off. the brunette placing his hand behind art's neck to pull him in, their teeth clashing slightly as they met in the middle. tongues furiously working against each other.

it was definitely embarrassing how quickly you felt the climax building up in the pit of your stomach, but who can blame you? this right in front of you was godly, tashi is a god. coming in to save you after everyone else has failed.

"a–ah" you cry out, hips bucking up in pleasure. "so close– fuck, tashi– i'm g'na cum" and she only moaned against you, you felt the vibration against your pussy, sending chills down your spine.

you were nearly blacking out, eyes rolled to the back of your head and you swear you were seeing stars.

and as soon as those words left your mouth, you squirted. for the first time ever. and it was right on your best friend's face. you whine as you ride it out, the two boys groaning at the sight as their members fall limp against their cum covered thighs.

it's safe to say that that event remained a topic for a long time (courtesy of patrick, "hey remember when we made you squirt for the first time?" followed by a slap on the head from tashi). and it definitely wasn't the last time.

[burnforyou]

FIGHT & MAKE UP - LUIGI MANGIONE x READER

!SUMMARY! a fight with your boyfriend, luigi, ends up causing you to be bent over the bathroom sink.

!WARNINGS! fighting, accused cheating (no actual cheating), a bit of crying, he's a little insecure, reader is sensitive, make-up sex (kinda public)

if you don't like this, don't read it.

“hey, lu...“ you approach him sitting on a kitchen stool with caution, the wound from your argument still fresh.

“i don’t want to talk to you.” he states curtly.

“please, we won’t settle this unless we talk.” you beg.

“well, i wanted to talk to you this morning,”

your stomach drops in realization, your heart aching.

“but you weren’t here. so i stalked your location and went to where you were, and of course, i saw you with luke.” he snarls, his voice echoing in your kitchen.

“we were just talking? I… i wanted his advice. i wanted to talk to someone else about it, get another opinion.” you cautiously place a hand on his shoulder. he stiffens under your touch.

“it’s always him, isn’t it?” he turns his head to lock eyes with you. his eyes are wide with expectation.

“no,” you pace in the kitchen and rub your head, a headache stirring. you stop and look at him. “this is a big misunderstanding.”

“no, i’m not misunderstanding anything.” he gets up from the stool and stalks up to you. you have to tilt your head up to look in his eyes, now dark. “i’m telling you as i see it. to me it looks like every time we have an issue you go running back to him. literally anyone else, anyone else, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

he loses himself in the argument and you see it in his face. he’s lost the color in his eyes, replaced with a darkness you've never seen before.

“i’m sorry luigi, i wanted his opinion because he’s a man and i figured he would try and understand your side too, and i’d get unbiased advice from him.” your ramble on and on, struggling to get him to understand you.

“in what world would you get unbiased advice from him?" the adrenaline courses through his veins, "he probably begged you to break up with me, called me a loser, an evil man, the whole thing!”

“no, that’s not what happened,” tears begin welling up in your eyes, but you don’t let them fall. taking his accusations felt like walking on broken glass.

he grasps onto your shoulders with a force that almost makes you fall back.

“you can’t see it? that he just wants to get into your pants? he just wants to take you from me?” he growls in your face. his eyes search your face for any inkling of an answer.

“do you really think i’d leave you for him?” your voice comes out as sharp as a knife.

he opens his lips to reply, but closes them before saying anything. he doesn’t have anything to say to you.

he drops his hands to his sides after they left red marks on your skin.

“really, luigi? really?”

you start backing away from him. disappointment fills your heart.

“and since you care so much, he didn’t tell me to break up with you. actually, he told me i should apologize to you. but now, i don’t think you deserve my forgiveness.”

every stair creates a creaking noise as you storm up to your bedroom. once you meet the bed, you're out like a light.

you blink your eyes open, feeling a hand caressing your face softly. you're met with a stricken luigi looking down at you, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"can we talk?" he proposes carefully.

you sit up and lean back on your hands.

“you talk and i’ll listen.”

he takes a deep breath and leans down beside the bed and brings a notebook up from the floor. he looks down at the notebook and up at you again.

“i wrote down what i wanted to say, um…” he stammers off.

a smile threatens to grace your lips. it’s hard to stay mad at him, with his big brown eyes and little apology script.

“i’m sorry y/n. i didn’t mean to accuse you of cheating on me. it’s just.. my parents didn’t have the most, solid, relationship, as you know, and my father made me believe every woman would leave me. i’m really trying to break the pattern, to prove him wrong, to let you prove him wrong, but it’s really hard for me. but i am really trying for us, y/n."

"okay." you sigh.

"I don't mean to make excuses for my actions. I know what I said to you was wrong, and I'm sorry. for all of it, for the fight last night too."

you're weak. you're weak and you know it. you can't stay mad at him for anything. you climb into his arms and let him cradle you like a baby, his warmth engulfing you. "I'm sorry" you mutter weakly into his chest.

his thumb caresses the back of your head and he leaves a soft kiss on your forehead.

"i know. l'm sorry too baby." his voice comes out soft, his tender touches holding you to him.

you gave luke a hesitant side hug, eyes locked on luigi. he gives you a lazy smile and winks.

"thanks for having me," luke politely shakes luigi's hand and you take note of their size difference. luigi looms over him, not just in height, but size too. luigi makes small talk with luke as he leads him to the rest of where the rest of his guests are sat.

when you finally get a moment where all the guests are distracted, you sneak off to the kitchen, where you know luigi is hiding away. you lean against the counter next to him.

“why did you invite luke to your birthday party?”

“i wanted to…" he turns to look at you with a coy smile and your heart flutters. "get on better terms with him.” he watches your shocked reaction with satisfaction.

“wow luigi. that’s really.. nice of you.”

his lips turn up into a slight smirk that you catch. a sneaky suspicion he’s lying arises.

"that's not the real reason, is it?"

he crosses his arms across his chest and his biceps bulge in his short sleeve shirt. you bite your lip.

"you want to know the truth?"

"um, yes?" you reply like it's the most obvious thing in the world. he grips onto the counter next to you and leans over you, forcing you to look up at him. he leans down right next to your ear, his breath making the hairs on your neck stand up.

"I wanted him to see that you belong to me," he nibbles on your earlobe, "firsthand."

"you're joking." you bite your lip. he retracts from your ear, his signature hung smile lighting up his face.

"nope!" he says, popping the 'p.'

"and I thought you were being mature." you shake your head and roll your eyes with faux annoyance, trying to pretend like his words don't make you inexplicably needy. he leans into your neck again and presses hard kisses on the soft skin where your ear meets your neck.

"you know you like it." he casually reads you like a book. his slight scruff scratches your neck just the way you like it. "you know you've wanted this all day, prancing around here in this short skirt."

"lu," you whimper, quiet so the party-goers won't hear.

it was risky, but the rush, the adrenaline, the fact that luke could walk in at any second, it made you weak in the knees and left you aching for more.

he comes up and leaves his forehead against yours, eyes dark with need, pupils completely dilated.

"bathroom?" your heart pounds in your chest.

you shake your head, going against your own wishes.

"they'll notice we're gone."

"not if we're quick enough." he smirks, grabbing your hand. "come on."

he leads you to the downstairs bathroom and closes the door quietly after you. he presses your hips against the cold counter top and roughly pulls down your panties from under your skirt.

he wastes no time getting down on his knees, holding your ass apart with his hands, and playing with your already wet pussy.

"you want this bad?" he slaps your ass and groans at your reaction, jolting forward with a small gasp and a red mark appearing. his eyes meet yours in the mirror and he pushes a finger in you, still watching your reaction carefully.

"i want it now," you whine and stick out your bottom lip.

"look at you, so desperate." he shakes his head, pulling his shorts down enough to pull his hard cock out. he lines the tip up with your pussy and pushes his hips right against your ass, filling you up in seconds. your mouth falls open but nothing comes out, your lips completely dry.

as he thrusts into you, his thighs meeting your ass make loud, obscene noises that slip through the door.

you try and look back at him over your shoulder, but he forces you to look into his eyes in the mirror, bent over and fucking you desperately. "i'm gonna make this quick." he whispers into your ear, "look at who's fucking you this good."

you open your eyes and meet his dark ones in the mirror. instantly, his hand finds your clit and rubs it, adding stimulation. a moan flies out of you uncontrollably and you bite your lip to silence yourself.

"don't," he groans, "be loud f'me." he moans as you pulse around him. he smiles at you, watching your head bob as he fucks you braindead.

"could luke ever fuck you this good?" he asked with a rasp.

you gasp and he watches you struggle in the mirror with pleasure. he brings his other arm around your throat, his bicep now pressed against your throat. you try and shake your head but he just squeezes you harder.

"say it.” he growls roughly.

his cock kisses your cervix with every harsh thrust. your eyes flutter shut and your lower stomach bulges, heat growing with every movement.

"n-no,” you stammer, face red and sweat dripping, “fuck!"

"say my name.” you hold onto his arm and try and pull the weight off your neck, but he prevails.

"Luigi, please!”

"there ya go, that's it." he moans and slows his pace, grinding into you.

"say who you belong to." he slaps your clit carefully and your legs begin to buckle beneath him, body convulsing with pleasure.

"you, luigi. I'm yours." you purr and arch your back into him more, watching his eyebrows come together in the mirror.

"I'm gonna cum,” you whine, digging your nails into his muscles.

"cum baby," he demands, "make 'em hear you cum with me.” your vision fades to black when luigi thrusts into you as deep as possible, your skin meeting his with a dirty slap one more time. you buck against him, throbbing around him while he fills you. he quickly slips out of you and pulls your panties back up before any of his cum could drip out, forcing you to spend the rest of the party with his cum dripping out of you.

MASTERLIST - PREV. WORK

!TAGS!

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[miley1442111]

videos and violence- a.hotchner

summary: an unsub capturing you makes for a pretty interesting love confession

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem! reader

warnings: mention of reader being hurt, violence, mental, physical, emotional abuse, regular criminal minds topics (i think that's it? PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED SOMETHING)

not entirely proofread

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You knew you had to take in your surroundings, try to remember what had happened before, think. 

All you knew was that one moment, you were on your way home from work, and the next you had a bruising grip on the back of your head, leading you through the hallways of this dusty, dark, shithole. 

Suddenly, he stopped. He was a man, obviously, 5’7ish, buff build, dark clothing that doesn’t fit him correctly, strong, shoes a size too big, and a balaclava. “Get in there, bitch.” American accent, deep voice, but definitely grew up in Washington. There was a chance you were still in Washington.

He shoved you down the stairs, into a basement. When you came to, your head was bleeding and you’d definitely broken a few ribs. You just hoped that Aaron would find you. You tended to your wound as best you could and allowed yourself to rest, knowing more would be to come. You had to figure out why he wanted you. Was it because he knew you worked for the FBI, or were you just the closest woman to him? 

The ground was cold and hard, but it would do for one night. You hoped this would be one night. You hoped the team could solve it. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“Where’s Agent Y/l/n?” Morgan asked, sitting beside Spencer in the briefing room. 

“Late,” Rossi grunted. 

“She’s never late,” Penelope argued. “She’s never been late a day in her life and she didn’t answer any of my phone calls this morning.”

Aaron Hotchner, your secure, steady, collected, and calm boss, began to sweat a little. The same thing had happened to him, you weren’t answering his calls, there was no ‘I got home safe’ text, and you didn’t answer your door when he knocked on it that morning. 

“I’m sure she’s just sick,” Rossi shot back, trying to put Penelope at ease. “She’s a big girl, you don’t need to baby her.” 

Aaron didn’t miss the way Rossi looked at him during that last part. He wasn’t babying you, he’d never do that. He wanted to protect you, keep you safe, make sure he got to see that beautiful smile everyday. 

“We have a case,” Aaron announced. “Right here in Washington.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

No matter how loud you screamed, he didn’t stop. He kept hitting, and punching, and hurting. By the time you walked back down to your basement, you were exhausted, bruised, and scared. You were slightly losing hope that Aaron and the team were going to find you, because he was ramping up his activity. He was more violent, more attentive to you, watched you more, got closer, stayed closer. And he wasn’t feeding you. He had no intention of keeping you alive. But he was filming you. You’d noticed the hundreds of cameras all over the room, all pointing to you. 

“What do you do for work?” he asked from the darkness of the top of the stairs. 

“Paperwork,” you lied. “FBI paperwork.”

“You work for the Federal Bureau of Investigations?” he asked.

You nodded. “It’s boring.”

“How much do you make?” 

“About 90 grand a year,” you offered. “What about you? What do you do?”

“I’m a baker,” he answered. “I work in the cafe on 14th street.”

“I like that place,” you chuckled painfully. “Makes good bread. My boyfriend loves it.”

“You have a boyfriend?” he asked. 

“Yeah, but he’s out of state at the minute. Work stuff,” you lied. “What about you?”

“A girlfriend? No, no,” he chuckled, rubbing his hands together. It’s like he watched a movie to find out how to be a villain, I mean, come on. “No one for me.”

“What’s your boyfriend's name?” he asked. 

Well, now or never. “Aaron Hotch,” you answered calmly. 

“And what is it that you love about Aaron?”

You could feel yourself tearing up, you knew he was about to take you for another torture session, and you didn’t know if it would be your last. There was a slim chance Aaron would see this, if he ever caught the guy. Now or never. “I love Aaron because he makes me feel safe. He smiles at me all the time which is nice because he doesn’t smile often. He knows everything about me, and he’s still here. He’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met, even though he puts on a brave face everyday. He cares deeply about the people around him, and he tries to hide the way he worries about people, but he can’t. He just cares too much. He’s wonderful, if I’m being honest. He always brings me home stuff from your bakery, the one on 14 the street, it’s our favourite date night tradition.” 

“Good, very good. I know exactly who you’re talking about,” he smirked. “I’ll make sure he gets this, and the videos of the torture.”

You grimaced. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“He takes women of all races, hair colours, eye colour, etc. He doesn’t keep them for more than three days, he videos the torture and sends it to us. He’s had three women so far-” Morgan thought out loud. 

“A new video just came in Hotch,” Penelope burst into the room, tears in her eyes. “I-It’s-”

“No!” Morgan and Spencer both jumped up, disbelief coating their features. Aaron stayed still, a wash of rage and terror rolling over him. You’d been gone for two days, they had one more to find you. 

“Give me the laptop, the rest of you don’t need to see this,” he ordered, taking the laptop out of her hands as she ran straight to Morgan for comfort. Rossi stopped him before he left. 

“You sure you want to see this? We all know how you feel about her,” Rossi whispered, silently offering himself to watch the videos. 

“I have to find her,” Aaron whispered, his voice breaking. “I need every angle I can get.”

Rossi nodded, allowing him on his way.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You’d survived another day, but the broken bones and bruises were starting to ache more and more. He’d gone to work, and you had 8 hours to try and get out, but the cameras. You just hoped he’d gotten cocky and sent it to the FBI before you were dead. It was your only chance. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“We have a lead,” Aaron announced, rushing to put his coat on. “The bakery, on 14th, that’s where he works.”

“Let’s move out people!” Morgan shouting, rallying the cops to follow the team. 

The video of you, broken, bruised, and battered made him feel physically sick. The way you spoke about him made his heart burst, the way you gave him the message gave him hope. He could still find you. 

The car ride felt long, too long; and getting the dick to confess felt too long too. Searching the building felt too long, and getting you into his arms felt too long. 

But when he rounded a corner and went down a set of stairs, there you were. Right in front of him. Lying in a heap on the floor. He rushed to your side. “Please, please,” he begged. “Open your eyes for me baby,” he pleaded as he looked for a pulse, it was faint but there. “Ambulance, now!” he shouted up at the officers who were following him. “Come on, open your eyes for me,” he whispered. 

Somehow his shaking and his words woke you up. You stared at him for a moment, confused and scared, and then it registered. He’d found you. The video had worked. 

“Aaron,” you whispered, reaching out to touch his face. “You found me.” 

He nodded, a relieved smile on his face. “I’ll always find you,” he promised. “And I’ll never let this happen again.”

“You saw the video?” you asked, pulling yourself into his arms. 

“I saw the video sweetheart,” he nodded. “I know.”

“I love you,” you whispered as he hooked a hand under your legs and another under your back. 

“I love you too, more than anything,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[ambiguous-avery]

When He Slides In...

Dean Winchester x fem!Reader/You | WC: 2768

Summary: ...And says “Fuck, I missed you.” After a hookup with the (in)famous Dean Winchester, you figured that would be the end of it. Too bad you could never seem to get him out of your mind. People always told you that you got attached too easily. And they were right. You were just another notch in his belt. He couldn’t possibly remember you...

Tags/Warnings: Smut 18+ MDNI, no use of Y/N, she/her pronouns, femme nicknames (sweetheart, pretty girl), reader is AFAB, oral (f receiving), P in V sex, PWP (Plot? What plot?), pining, pure filth because I have no chill, no beta we die like men

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for far too long. This was the title of an audio I listened to, and the line lives in my head rent-free. Plus I figured this would be a great birthday gift for our one and only boy! Thanks to my bestie for reminding me of this momentous day!

The first time you met the Winchesters – and subsequently ended up beneath the eldest – was when you had called for some back up with a vampire nest you had found in a rural town in South Dakota. It was a routine hunt, but the nest had taken up residence on a farm with far too many places to be ambushed from. Thankfully, there was enough practiced experience between the three of you that the hunt only left you with several bruised ribs, Dean with a too-close-for-comfort almost bite, and Sam with a bloody gash cutting across his cheek. All in all, it could’ve been much worse. You had joined the two of them at a bar in town, eager to take a well-deserved moment of reprieve. And you left the bar with Dean. Just Dean.

After you parted ways, you fully accepted that it would be a one night stand, and your paths would never cross again.

Fate had different plans for you.

It was a standard haunted house case that pulled you to a small town in the middle of bumfuck, Iowa. Something something father killed his family when he was discovered having an affair before turning the weapon onto himself. And now he was killing other cheaters in the town. You’d have been tempted to leave him be – was he really doing harm by getting rid of those kinds of people? – if it weren’t for the fact that he would go after the affair partner as well who wasn’t always aware of just who they had gotten in bed with. It was a cut and dry case. Except you couldn’t find where the damn body had been buried, so you were having a hell of a time salting and burning the bones. The extended family had been so ashamed of what their son had done that they had buried him in an unmarked grave on the outskirts of town. 

You had just about hit the end of your rope when two very familiar Winchester boys rolled into town in a sleek Impala that purred like a kitten. And there he was. The one and only Dean Winchester, all swagger and bravado, and fuck, had he gotten hotter? Seriously, God hadn’t played around when chiseling him from marble.

“Hey, sweetheart, long time no see.” He grinned at you, his voice rumbling. 

Leave it to the grave-desecration-brothers to pinpoint where the cheater had been buried. It took several hours in the library pouring over a convoluted family tree before the three of you eventually found a living descendant and another hour talking with her and convincing her to let you guys go through old family books she had stored in her attic. Cheater’s sister happened to jot down which grave was his in her diary. Bleeding heart saved the day. You had ‘cheers’ed to that before knocking back your beer and excusing yourself from the bar with Dean in tow. 

Despite the long span of time you had spent apart, Dean was still familiar to you. The way his lips felt as he kissed you. The way your body seemed to slot against his just right. You couldn’t forget how he felt. Not when every touch of his had seared your skin and left imprints in its wake. Dean had ruined you for anyone else. Because he didn’t just leave his marks on your body. He had carved out a piece of your heart and taken it, leaving a hole in it that ached with every beat. Dean was a heartbreaker, and you were just another name on a long list of casualties. But you were on that list, and you lied to yourself, convinced yourself that it was good enough for you. 

“Dean,” you sighed against his lips, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Glad you didn’t forget me, sweetheart,” he said quietly, kissing you again. You could never forget him. Could never forget the way his hands felt as they teased at the hem of your shirt before sliding up your side. Could never forget the scent of leather and bourbon and cedar that encompassed him. Could never forget the way he looked at you and you let yourself believe just for a fleeting moment that maybe, maybe, you were something more than a hookup in his eyes. Dean’s touch was a flame, and he was going to kindle your entire world to ashes. And as long as he kept looking at you like that, you would let him. Over and over and over again. 

He trailed kisses along your cheek, across your jaw, and further down the side of your neck. His lips left your skin just long enough to slide your shirt over your head and make quick work of the clasp of your bra. He sucked a bruise just below your collarbone then soothed it with his tongue before dipping lower. Dean was attentive, leaving no part of you physically untouched but all of you still wanting. His nose dragged between the valley of your breasts, leaving another mark there. 

“You’re gorgeous; I hope you know that, sweetheart,” he murmured, and your response died in your throat as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, toying with it with his tongue.

There was so much you couldn’t say. Couldn’t tell him how much more you wanted from him. It was silly. You barely knew him in the bedroom and even less outside of it. But there was an undeniable spark between the two of you that you couldn’t shake. An unspoken pull. Something that kept the two of you in the other’s orbit. You were doubtful Dean felt it. It was just you and your silly little heart looking for anything to quell the loneliness that threatened to consume you. 

Dean moved lower, deftly ridding you of the last of your clothing so you were bare for him. And then his mouth was on you, stubble scratching lightly, and all thoughts were wiped from your mind in an instant. His fingers dug into your thighs, all lips and tongue on your clit and folds and fu-uck. You carded your fingers in his short hair, nails scratching against his scalp. He groaned, a low and guttural sound that sent vibrations through your core, and your answering cry was breathless, fingers scrabbling for purchase on his head or the bed sheets or anywhere. The sigh you let out when he slid a finger in you must’ve unraveled some of his self control because a second one joined it none too soon. He curled them, and your back arched.

 If you could form coherent thoughts, you might have had the wherewithal to wonder about when or where or how he learned his talents. But such wasn’t the case as everything tightened. Your tension collapsed into a litany of moans and gasps, and Dean was a solid presence between your legs. He was a maestro, and you were his instrument. He plucked at your strings until you came shuddering around his fingers, your nails biting into his skin. He coaxed you through your release, gently sucking and keeping a steadying hand on your leg. Your head fell back against the pillow, chest heaving. There were too many words that threatened to be the next to spill from you, so instead, you pulled Dean up by the hair and put every word you wanted to say to him in a kiss. It was deep and longing and you tried so hard to tell him just how lucky you felt that you got him for the night with it. If that’s all you ever got of him, it would be enough. It wouldn’t really, but you could delude yourself long enough to convince him.

He met your passion, one hand tangling in your locks and the other slipping beneath you to press against your lower back to provide counterpressure as he rolled his hips against yours. Your jaw went slack as you felt the length of him pressed against you, hot and heavy and hard beneath his jeans. You tugged at his shirt, desperate to get more skin to skin contact. Gasoline coursed through your veins, and if Dean didn’t set you ablaze this very instant, you were sure you would spontaneously combust. Thankfully, Dean was a smart man. He picked up on your desperate plea and stripped out of his shirt before briefly standing up to strip out of the rest of his clothes. 

As he looked down at you, his green eyes met yours, and you could see him searching for something. Acceptance? Approval? Adoration? All three? You’d give him all of those. Whatever it was, you could only hope that he found it as you looked up at him, sprawled out on the bed and propped up on your elbows. You took your time taking him in. The cut of his jaw. The broad expanse of his shoulders. The tattoo that sat just above his left pec. Your gaze dropped lower, and you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip before dragging your eyes back up to his again.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” you ask, a sly smile tugging at the edge of your lips.

Dean pounced. He yanked you into a kiss, messy and primal, crushing you into the bed with his weight. You responded in kind by dragging your nails down the length of his back, needing to leave a mark of your own on him so maybe he’d remember you for more than a fleeting night. Dean groaned low in his throat, the sound ringing in your ears. There were no barriers left between you two, and you arched your body up into his, looking for all the contact you could possibly find. His hand dropped down to your ass and pulled you against him, his cock frotting against the junction of your hip. You raked your fingers in his hair and pulled it, pressing your mouth to the side of his neck and biting and sucking there until Dean was cursing under his breath.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” Dean bit out. You released him, eyes locked onto the angry red mark you had left. He fumbled with his discarded pants for a brief moment before pulling a condom from the pocket. 

“Smart man... smarter than me." 

It was good that he had his wits about him because you were more than ready to throw caution to the wind. You were a hunter. You risked your life every day. What was one more risk? You knew you’d be thankful when your brain wasn’t drowning in lust, though. He rolled the condom over himself before kneeling between your legs again. He grabbed the backs of your knees and spread your legs wide, lifting your ass off the bed before settling it on his thighs. Dean took a moment to guide his cock into place. His gaze met yours again, waiting and pleading. You gave him a subtle nod.

Dean rolled his hips, sinking into you with slow thrusts. You audibly sighed as he bottomed out.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He said your name, reverent and sincere. He said your name. Not sweetheart. Not baby. Not some nickname he probably used to mask the fact that he forgot the name of the woman under him. Your name. You whimpered.

“Dean... I missed you too,” you admitted. But he didn’t understand the depths of your words. He couldn’t. He kept a hand on your knee, keeping you splayed open for him. You braced a hand on the headboard and turned your face aside, biting the knuckle of one of your fingers and panting into it.

“No, no, pretty girl. Keep your eyes on me,” he said, leaning forward to grab your chin and guide your eyes back to him. The shift caused him to sink just a little deeper into you. You squeaked when your eyes met green ones. There, behind the lust and desire, there was Dean. And for a moment, you could see the vulnerability there. The lonely man who wanted to be needed. Needed to be wanted. 

“Move, Dean. I need you.”

And that’s all it took. Dean surrendered to what felt good and snapped his hips, pounding into you, thrilling at the way you moaned and moved with him and accepted every aggressive stroke like you were made for it. He lowered his body and leaned forward onto his hands so he could drive himself deeper into you. His hands found yours, and you entwined your fingers with his. He pinned you to the mattress, caging you beneath him. You shouted in response, your legs clenching against Dean’s sides and the drag of his cock setting every nerve alight. 

“There you go, pretty girl. You can take it. You can take me. I know you can.” His words were fuel for the inferno that threatened to devour you. You were trembling. Aching. He was the musician; your body was the instrument. You were a violin string. You were tuned too tight. You were breaking.

Your groans and cries turned to fervent whimpers, and you fought against his hold as your release danced just beyond your reach. Your eyes fluttered shut, and Dean clicked his tongue, commanding your attention. You stared up at him, eyes wide and bright, drinking in the sight of him as though it would be your last.

“Please,�� you begged. Your voice sounded so utterly wrecked in your own ears, but you didn’t care. You had abandoned your dignity long ago. “Dean, please. Need more.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He let go of one of your hands, and his thumb found your clit, drawing tight circles around it. “Come on, pretty girl. Need you to come on my cock.” His breaths mingled with yours, and your answering cry was high and thready as you lost yourself in him. Your voice, so needy and desperate, must’ve been enough to be Dean’s undoing because the hand holding yours tightened as he rutted into you until he came in hot, throbbing pulses that sucked the energy out of the rest of his body. You clenched around him, and he let out a strangled groan as his whole body shuddered above you.

He pressed his forehead against yours, brushing stray hairs out of your face with his free hand. His other still clasped yours tightly, fingers still laced together. You leaned up to kiss him, and your lips met in a tender way. An unburdened, unhurried kiss. A kiss for the sake of kissing.  You could’ve stayed like that forever, but all too soon, Dean broke the kiss and peeled himself off of you, his hand leaving yours. He stood, moving to discard the condom before grabbing a towel from the bathroom. You sat up, watching his retreating back and taking pride in the red lines your nails had left in their wake. You could only hope he would remember you.

When he returned with a damp washcloth, he coaxed you back against the pillow as he wiped the sweat from your brow, muttering sweet nothings all the while. There was silence between you for a long while, and you realized too late that your time with him was coming to an end. He had set you aflame, and now you would have to find a way to rebuild. But you’d do it all again if Dean asked it of you. But when he spoke, you hadn’t expected the words that came out of his mouth.

“Do you maybe wanna... you know... stay?” he asked quietly. “For the night,” he added. You swallowed.

“Um... isn’t Sam due back sometime... soon?” Why were you making excuses? This opportunity didn’t even show up in your dreams. Dean wet his lips, not quite meeting your gaze.

“Well... not to be presumptuous or anything... but I might have told him to get his own room for the night.”

“Oh.” Oh. He had planned on you staying with him? You were done for. 

“Yeah... Uh, nevermind. You don’t have to. You’ve probably got somewhere better–”

“I’d love to stay,” you blurted out. “With you,” you clarified, as if it weren’t obvious. The smile that split across Dean’s face was blinding, and it became your new life’s mission to do whatever it took to see it directed your way time and time again.

“How about I order us some food? We can watch a movie and cuddle?” And really, you were only human. A request like that from Dean Winchester was as easy to fulfill as breathing.

---

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[hollowed-theory-hall]

I was re-reading POA and was surprised about how open Harry is with Lupin. There are a couple instances of him not wanting to say something because he thinks it’s shameful/embarrassing but then he can’t help himself from opening up to lupin anyway. It reminds me a lot of how he acts with Sirius in GOF and OOTP. But I also think he stopped sharing his feelings with lupin after POA because of the distance that lupin was trying to put between them. It always seems like lupin wants to connect with Harry but won’t let himself because of all the stuff he has going on with himself (him reaching out to put his hand on his shoulder but thinking better of it is a pretty good example). It’s kinda a shame though, it would have been nice if Lupin allowed himself to be closer to Harry because their relationship could have been another place where Harry could be open and confide in another person with.

Yeah, I talked a bit about their dynamic here, but in PoA, Harry found an adult who he likes, and the adult likes him and respects him and he's trying so hard to latch onto that one positive connection and get closer to Lupin. Lupin is like, the first teacher Harry actually looked up to.

I mean, Dumbledore is more of a distant figure at first and Harry's feelings about him are complicated later on. Harry treats Hagrid more like his peer than like his elder. He respects McGonagall immensely, but she always had a more distant and professional air to her.

Remus, on the other hand, already saved Harry from dementors on the train (so he's competent), he clearly likes Harry and he calls all the students by their first names. Lupin is the cool and hip teacher who wants all the kids to like him so he comes up with cool lesson plans and falls behind on the curriculum (according to Snape).

Remus' behavior encourages Harry to look up to and open up to him. Harry never had an adult he could really count on and felt close to. He loves Arthur and Molly, but he doesn't feel like they're his family. Also, he doesn't really register them as competent wizards. But Remus — Remus is everything Harry wants from an adult mentor figure.

It's why Harry keeps going out of his way to talk to him. To convince him to teach him the Patronus Charm. And Remus, well, Remus, as always, is conflicted.

Remus can't have good things in his life. He thinks he doesn't deserve good things in his life. He thinks he is awful and ruins the lives of everyone he is close to just by being there.

I think he really likes Harry. I think he sees Harry as his own person, who isn't James or Lily, and who is talented and capable and brave. But Remus thinks he isn't worthy of being associated with Harry. He thinks Harry must be happier however he is living now, and anyway, he's a werewolf, he couldn't offer Harry anything better (that's what he thinks). It's why he doesn't even offer to take Harry with him, why he never writes to Harry. He twists himself in guilt and shame so he thinks everyone is better off without him which is his go-to excuse on why he shouldn't be responsible for things/people.

And Harry isn't stupid, he can tell when someone doesn't want to talk to him (which Remus is very much acting like), so he stops. It also helps that at the end of PoA, Sirius appears, and Sirius is everything Remus is (capable, likes Harry, cool, very un-Dursley) but more — because he wants Harry to come live with him. He wants Harry to write to him and talk to him. He wants to tell Harry about James and Lily. Sirius comes in after a year in which Harry got the first positive adult role-model (Remus) and then, just, improved the formula by wanting to be there for Harry and not struggling to keep up the distance like Lupin was doing.

As such, post-PoA, we see Harry have the same openness (and even more so) with Sirius. Harry stops talking to Remus because Remus didn't talk to him. I think he felt a little betrayed that Remus didn't tell him he was friends with James throughout the whole year, too. Like, I think it's reasonable that Harry somewhat gave up on Lupin post-PoA. Remus is the one who gave up on a connection with Harry first.

Could their relationship have been better and a source of comfort to Harry? Definitely. But Remus is doing what he always does. What he tried to do with Tonks (even after he got her pregnant) — he forces himself not to get attached and runs away.

[aangelinakii]

A BREATH APART.

— kiss-blocked by a robin.

summary : ever since you'd been hired as bruce wayne's secretary, you'd always felt a tension between you. what happens when a moment comes so close, only to be taken away?

note : this is NAWT spicy but i tried to make the sexual tension very much there pls lmk if this could be baited as smut by the lead-up

working for bruce wayne was a dream; all you had to do was let him know when his meetings were, and apologise to the businessmen he was supposed to meet when he decided he didn't want to show up — an easy cycle.

your desk was posted right outside his office, a sort of gangway between the business world and... whatever he does in there.

and maybe it was the delusions talking, but you could swear there was something there — between you and bruce wayne, i mean.

apparently he was a womanizer — but aren't they all?

something felt different with bruce. something forbidden. something barely-there.

though you meant to or not, each time you dropped off a stack of papers to his desk, your fingers brushed feather-light against his, lingering for just a moment before you turned your back to hide your sheepish smile.

on countless occasions, in conference and board rooms, when the space was tight, he'd place a careful hand upon your waist or lower back, and squeeze past, uttering a soft apology. when you'd look up at his fleeting figure, dressed smartly in suit and tie, you're sure he'd glance back, but you'd never bring it up later; and that spot on your skin stayed fuzzy the rest of the meeting.

he'd even invited you to a few galas and balls, his hair gelled and sleek as ever, his jacket perfectly tailored to his shoulders — and, perhaps you were wrong, but each time you stepped out in your formal attire, dazzling but not show-stopping or over-the-top, bruce's eyebrows raised slightly, and a hand came to his chest momentarily, as if he were out of breath.

but he was bruce wayne.

you were his secretary.

there were many people he could go for, and you found it difficult to believe that he would go for you.

late into the evening, bruce had offered to have you round the manor whilst looking over some finer details in an agreement another company had sent over. they'd been trying to get bruce on-board for months now, and bruce kept declining; he didn't understand their aim, didn't understand what start-up he was supposed to be funding. but each time he got you to defer their offers over the phone, they'd give it a few weeks and then try again.

either they were badly desperate, or something was off with their terms.

you were sitting in a plush chair before bruce's desk in his home office, the old nature of it a start contrast to his work office, of which his desk sat small against thirty-foot windows, illuminating his back against the bustling city.

here, you could tell it was lived in; from the worn mahogany on certain edges of the desk, which otherwise was polished to a shine, to the crimson armchair in the corner beside a small little table, a stout glass shimmering with an unfinished liquer, telltale by the open bottle adjacent.

but bruce wasn't opposite you, no, although his presence felt increasingly strong.

mint-fresh breath fanned against the shell of your ear as you stared down at the papers sent to you by the small company requesting funding. it took the clench of your fist in your lap to force back the shiver that crept up your spine, knuckles whitening at the action.

one of his hands lay on the backrest of your chair, and you leaned forward over the papers so as to not recline into his warmth, of which radiated even through your clothes, as well as the rich oudy cologne he wore.

"i'm not sure what they think they're doing, really," his expensive voice came in your ear; he was the epitome of old money, even now as his word brushed against your skin.

in return, an airy chuckle came from your lips. with a shake of your head, you dared to turn around to look at him. "and it's the fact they're barely even a start-up, too—"

but your sentence cut short.

it seemed bruce hadn't been anticipating your sudden movement, for your nose whisped against his, causing the two of you to falter — but not move away.

his eyelids inched wider, lashes fluttering in surprise.

your knuckles paled as you gripped the arm of your chair; you swear his blue eyes flickered down, down to your lips.

you swear that, because that's what you did, too.

something sighed in the back of his throat, breathy, like he couldn't bear holding back anymore. just inch... a little bit... closer...

"BRUCE!"

knee jerking in surprise, a bang came as you hit it against the bottom of bruce's desk, who drew himself to his full height just as quickly. as pain shot up your nerves, you craned your neck around just as the door opened, revealing a dashing man with a strange similarity to bruce — raven black hair, although longer and more unkempt, and skintone more sun-kissed.

behind him a shorter boy, again with a likeness to your boss, was jumping into view behind his shoulder.

"dick? tim? what is the meaning of this?" bruce asked, clearing his throat momentarily to disguise his shock. he glanced back at you, but did not meet your gaze. "(name) and i are having a meeting."

as both pairs of eyes drifted to you, your lips pulled instinctively into a sheepish smile.

the taller boy at the front, carefully pulled the door to. "nevermind..." he muttered, turning away. "we can talk about it later; it wasn't that serious anyway." but there was a certain wariness that made your stomach squirm.

bruce turned around as if he didn't want to be alone with you again, and walked round his desk. "apologies," he sighed as he sat down before you. "my sons. there's always something going on in this house." he gave a light chuckle, though the way his mouth kept tugging itself softly to the side implied his attempt for comedy was to fill the silence.

oh, god...

so, his sons almost witnessed you two kiss. you — the secretary. he — the boss. bruce wayne.

but there was a silence, mostly induced by you, until you broke it with grabbing your bag by your feet. "you know what, bruce, should i just tell them no again? and that's the final word?"

bruce's lips parted as he watched you file the papers back in your bag, stunned, confused, aching for you to stay. he fumbled on his words before standing as you did. "yeah, yeah– sure. yeah..."

as you shouldered your bag, you stood before bruce, unsure what to say to him now the moment of tension had passed, and been broken so horribly.

"i'll– uh– see you tomorrow at the office, then, sir," you smiled.

before you turned, bruce's eyes flickered with something, but you were too quick, missing the emotion behind it.

work surely would be awkward tomorrow — unless you both woke up the next morning inwardly agreeing to never mention this again.

[miange1]

donnie darko slightly pushing male reader into having their first time together?!? manipulating him until he craves it just as bad as him now

DONNIE DARKO

male reader, bottom reader, reader isn't a virgin he just hasn't had peen up his booty, manipulation, say gex, sum like that, nervousness, donnie doesn't know what he's doing either, anal sex, rough but soft, linkin park is so yummy, donnie is addicted to sex, persuading with actions rather than words, donnie does NOT know how to fuck but figures it out later

he was nervous, fidgeting the whole day and glancing at you much more often. he felt some sort of weight on his shoulders, he just needed to get it off and if he never told you what was the matter it would never happen would it?

"donnie." you looked over at him, your finger pressing at the TV remote to turn it down. "hm." he looked over at you, eyes roaming over your body by instinct. "don't 'hm' me. you've been creeping the shit outta me all day? you alright?"

he opened his mouth to say yes, but then closed it up again, changing his mind. he got closer to you, bed dipping in the area near you and his hand resting on your leg.

"you ever..fuck before?" you giggled a bit, mostly confused but amused as well. "yeah? of course ive–" he cut you off, "no, i mean." he moved himself closer towards you,

"have you been fucked before, like by another guy?" your heart started to speed up, your body tensing and it felt like it was getting hotter.

"..no?" donnies hands went to your legs, moving towards your thighs and squeezing them a bit. "do you want to?" he was expecting a yes, but he frowned seeing your head shake and your legs move towards your chest.

"donnie," your eyes looked like they were pitying him, looking at him as if he was in the wrong. but he wasn't? "why? why don't you want to— we're together so we have to!" his mind worked differently, and you knew that. he always wanted to get to the 'good stuff', and as messed up as it sounded he still loved you.

"please, i promise.." he went close to you again, hands pulling your ankles and spreading your legs. "it'll feel really good," he's never fucked another guy before, and most likely has never had sex before but he just needed to persuade you somehow.

"donnie, no. my answer is no." your words cut off with your own giggle as he kissed at your face multiple times, making you tell him that it tickled a bit.

then his lips would go lower, slowing his pace down as he kissed at your neck and making them more open mouthed to leave a mark.

"hey..hey, donnie—" you squirmed, hands to his chest to push him away but you just ended up gripping his shirt and wanting more "hm." his fingers went up your shirt, grazing your nipples having your body arch into his touch and whimper into his ear.

"stop..donnie," his pointer and middle finger squeezed the bud, your legs tightened around his hips as he did so. "can't..i can't.." he sounded just as desperate as you, moving his hands back down to your shirt to take it off and toss it some other place.

he let his body get on top of you more, your body sliding down all the way underneath him. he looked at you for a moment, taking it all in. this was really happening

his pace was slow at first, it hurt to him too because he didn't really know he had to use some sort of lubrication. as he had gotten used to it, he completely forgot to think about you.

he was thinking about you, but also wasn't.

"donnie..donnie— donnie!" he could hear you calling out his name, saw your fingers grip at the sheets for dear life as if you were gonna fall off the bed even though he had you by your waist.

"slow...down, oh god it hurts.." but it felt so good, the tears that went down your cheeks were tears of pleasure and your hole would twitch and clench around him and each time he felt it he just couldn't help but go faster and harder.

the headboard hit against the wall, and you prayed that no one was home to hear this because nothing was silent especially you. "feels so good..do you feel good? tell me it feels good." your head nodded, burrying yourself into the pillow cover.

"so good..donnie, don't stop." your words were becoming slurred, turning into mindless jumbles and moans. for a guy who's probably never even fucked a girl, shit he was real good.

it had you wondering how many times he must have thought of what he wanted to do to you.

"don't stop?" your pupils moved to the side, giving donnie a look. "okay.." he flipped you over back onto your back, wiping his forehead from the sweat that dripped.

"i won't stop, i promise." oh, of course he'd take that shit literally.

[maddiebrj]

Guilt Weighs Upon Your Shoulders

COZETTE RAMBLINGS UNDER THE CUT:

I have not been able to get Cozette out of my head for well over a month now. I haven't hyper fixated this much on character in a good while. Cozette is just....so interesting to me for some reason.

I've always liked her as I found her bond with Connie to be really sweet, and she felt like this wise and caring woman. And yes, while I do understand that the twist of her being Zokket is predictable( I speculated to myself that she might have something to do with him), the thing I like about it isn't because of how surprising the reveal was, but rather the layer of depth that it adds to Cozette's character that I wasn't really expecting. And it's depth that I really wish got expended upon in the game. At first, I didn't think too much of it; we now know where Cozette was all this time. But then I saw how she acted after we freed her from Reclusa's control...and then after that, I started to think about her for more than 5 minutes and realized just how sad, confusing, and messed up Cozette's situation actually is.

I..I so wish we got to learn more about Cozette throughout the game because no matter how underutilized she is, I just can't help but feel bad for her. She got corrupted in organizing the destruction of the world she loves and is supposed to protect. Separating friends and families, kidnapping people and forcing them to work in factories, spreading glolm and further separating others. All to aid the rebirth of being that wants to destroy all worlds. And she just has to live with all of that. That definitely did something to her mentally.

I can't help but think of all that. And on top of all THAT, I just feel like this was a misoppurtunity for some good and interesting character interactions. I want to know what all the Concordians think of her besides Connie and Patriarc ( who is another character that I wish got explored more), I want to know how she views the Zok troops and those memos she wrote while in the Zokket persona, I WANT HER TO INTERACT WITH EXTENSION CORPS AT LEAST ONCE.

I want to know... what exactly made Cozette fall to Reclusa's grasp in the first place. Connie asks a good question to the Great Conductor: If Cozette really was controlled by someone else, why is she taking this so personally? And while I bet it has to do with what I listed earlier, the Great Conductor mentions that it has to do with her being taken advantage of a weakness she has and I'm sitting there thinking, "Oh okay, interesting...care to elaborate on that????." From there I tried to find something, ANYTHING on what that weakness might be and just...nothing. Those Grampy turnips that give some lore tidbits on some of the major characters? They say nothing about her. Her one sidequest involves her making a decision that you can't stop her from making and comes to regret. To this day, I am still trying to figure out what that weakness is. I do have some theories.

Overall, I have this feeling that Cozette isn't entirely and that her story in this game isn't complete. It feels like the writers introduced this interesting concept but weren't able to expand fully on it. I can only assume they didn't as they realized how complicated of a situation it is, and it would probably draw too much attention away from the main threat, which is Reclusa. Which, do not get it twisted, Reclusa. Is. AWESOME. But I am left with a bunch of questions.

Tldr: Cozette is very interesting. I wish her character got explored a lot more.

(Oh boy, sorry, this was so long. I wanted to talk about Cozette for a while. Please don't take this as me hating on the game. I just care so much about Cozette :))

[haikyuubby]

𝐌���𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ; h. shinso

“and i just want to know if you’re in love yet, girl.”

❀ , ✭ - fluff, some suggestiveness, female reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍: 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙢 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙖𝙩 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙧��𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧…

it was 11 at night, and i couldn’t sleep.

due to my immense fear of failure, ways that i could better myself and my combat skills distracted my mind, making it insanely hard to go to sleep.

training got canceled, due to weather.

it was raining heavily, we were on a flood watch so classes also ended early today.

this meant that i’d have to do something relevant to training, or else my brain wouldn’t shut off.

what better way to do that than to sneak out and train? at almost midnight…

i get dressed, putting on some workout clothes, accepting the fact that i’m gonna get drenched by the rain no matter what i wear.

as i carefully tiptoe out of my dorm room, i notice a tall figure standing in the common room.

if i was a little bit more delirious and tired, i would’ve thought that it was the hat man.

after i step closer to the figure, i soon realize that it’s just shinso.

“shinso? what are you doing up at this time?”

“it’s early for me, i was just…”

“…just what?”

“just thinkin’. where are you heading to?”

a part of me wanted to ask him to come join me, but i didn’t wanna seem…weird?

would it be odd of me to ask him to come train with me at such an odd time of night? would he appreciate it?

“looks like you’re about to go workout? orrrr are you training?” he interrupts my train of thought.

“yeah, i am gonna go train a bit. how’d you know?” i say in a joking tone.

“well, i figured that you’d find some way to get work put in today, you never take a break.” shinso says with a lighthearted laugh.

shinso and i were extremely close, we have been friends for about a year now, and i’ve had the biggest crush on him ever since we first met.

i heard about his quirk from other people, and that’s what piqued my interest in him.

after watching shinso’s performance against izuku midoriya at the sports festival, i’ve had an interest in him ever since.

sometimes, it irritated me that he knew me so well.

“yeah, i guess you’re right. if you want, you can come with.” i offer.

“yeah sure, let me go get changed real quick.”

shinso comes back after 2 minutes, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants.

we make our way outside, and to a nearby place we could train at.

we made sure to stay on high alert due to our surroundings— you never know when another villain attack might happen or when a teacher decides to stroll outside during this time of night…

shinso and i went to a forest, figuring that a forest would be a great place to hide from teachers if we got caught outside.

our plan was to just do basic hand-to-hand combat, not wanting to draw any attention to either of us by using our quirks.

the goal here was for one of us to immobilize the other; whoever does that wins.

i lunge at shinso, trying to grab his arm to bring him down to the ground.

to my luck, he catches my hand, causing me to lose my balance and jump back away from him.

“i know you’ve been working pretty hard, y/n, so come at me with all you got.” shinso says.

“i will.”

internally, i was screaming at this.

i love the way that shinso motivates me, his words are always so powerful and thoughtful.

after about 40 minutes of landing hits on one another, we come to a stopping point.

or so i thought.

shinso darts towards me, using one of his legs to sweep my foot from underneath me.

i take a fall right on my ass, my head hitting the grass immediately.

thankfully, the part of the forest that we were in didn’t get hit by the rain surprisingly, and it wasn’t raining right now.

as i’m taking in what just happened, i see shinso get on top of me.

i realize that he’s about to win, he could just pin me to the ground now and this’ll all be over.

i see his wrists coming down to grab mine, and i fight to get him off of me.

shinso’s body weight was no match for me, teenage boys are just too heavy.

his force brings my wrists down to the ground, immobilizing me.

as i realize the position that we’re in, my face warms up.

“i thought you were gonna come at me with all you got, y/n? what happened?”

at this point, i’m feeling extremely flustered, both from embarrassment and our position at the moment.

shinso’s grips on my wrist tighten— not enough to hurt me but enough to where i can’t move at the moment.

“fine…you win…” i say, turning my head away from him.

shinso’s eyes follow my head movements, forcing me to gaze into his eyes.

this felt…oddly intimate?

sure, we’ve had some romantic moments together, but nothing like this.

neither of us have came forward about our crush on one another just yet, but tonight might be the night.

“y/n, i like you, like really like you. you’re more than a friend to me, even if i haven’t said those things to you before, that’s how i feel.” shinso admits.

the close proximity is driving me insane, the way that he looked whilst being on top of me was amazing.

“i…feel the same way, shinso.” i respond, pushing my body up closer to his.

i can now feel his breath directly on my face, his lips are so close to mine that even the slightest movement would cause us to kiss right now.

“you drive me insane, y/n. it’s taking everything in me to not kiss you right—“

“do it.”

shinso looks surprised as i cut him off.

was he really expecting me to tell him to not kiss me?

he leans down ever so slightly, and brings his lips towards mine.

i have been dreaming about this for a while now, and it was everything i imagined it to be.

his tongue licks my lips, wanting to dive deeper into my mouth.

i wrap my legs around his lower body, wanting to feel every bit of him.

shinso smiles against my mouth at this moment, removing his hands from my wrist to feel up on my body.

shinso had one hand on my face, and one in the curve of my waist.

he starts to shove his tongue deeper into my mouth, i can tell that he’s getting really into this.

my hand makes it’s way into his hair, pushing his head down closer to mine, making his tongue move even farther down my mouth.

i moan at the feeling, it’s overwhelming but in the best way possible.

shinso then starts to move his hips against me slightly, letting me feel every part of his body at this given moment.

needing air, i pull away from our kiss.

before i say anything, shinso starts.

“i’m sorry, maybe i got a bit carried away there…you just have a crazy effect on me.” he says, getting off of me and helping me up from the ground.

“no, it’s okay. trust me i would’ve did more, but you have more self control than me…” i admit, saying that last part quietly.

“it’s okay!” he laughs, “we should get back soon, it’s already been an hour.”

i nod in agreement, starting to walk back towards the dorms.

“so does this mean that we’re dating now? orrr…” i say, anxiously expecting an answer.

“yes, i’m sorry. i should’ve asked before we kissed…will you be my girlfriend?” shinso asks while grabbing my hand.

i squeeze my hand in his, happily agreeing to be his girlfriend.

as we get closer to the dorms, i can only pray that no teachers are out during this time.

[earlgreylatte]

Love To Highball

The Star Sapphire notices that Hal’s affections have strayed and decides you are to be its new host in order to mate with the aforementioned Green Lantern.

Coast City was once a bubbling metropolitan with a population that exceeded seven million, the busiest harbour on the west coast. Even while constantly being called into space, Hal liked being the hero of Coast City. Now he could only hope for days like that to return, if he even deserved it. Besides the liveliness of the city, another thing Hal missed about Coast City was the food. Prawns, lobster, pan seared salmon. God, he really missed that taco cart near his old apartment.

The Coast City of now was built over the rubble that hid the corpses of its old inhabitants, unable to be found.

It took a year of construction for the city to be rebuilt, but it was still nothing more than a ghost town, devoid of people. It was to be expected that no one would be jumping at moving, survivors included. After all, not every city has a cyborg Superman obliterate it.

But even then, Hal couldn’t call the city dead. Not when you were there.

He hadn’t been expecting you to move to the newly developed city, much less open a cafe where you’d be lucky to get a single customer.

When he asked, you only shrugged and said you didn’t need the money. He had already figured you could take the loss, trust fund kid you are, but he didn’t understand why you were basically tossing cash down the drain when you could be living it up anywhere else.

You said you liked the conversations you get, fostered by your empty little cafe.

Even Hal, who was never into the whole cafe scene, could admit he liked having you just to himself in a building that was covered in traces of you, from the cute little mugs you used, the posters decorating your walls, and the way you had more tea than coffee on your menu.

He’s broken from his reverie when you place his drink on the counter, arching his eyebrow when it’s clearly not the drink that he ordered.

“Uh, did you get my order mixed up with an imaginary customer or do you just not pay attention when I speak?” Hal asks, shooting you an amused glance, already used to you heckling him in the little ways.

“Usually the second one, but I’m tired of you always ordering drip coffee. I thought you were supposed to be adventurous, Mister Space Cop,” you retort leaning against the counter as he becomes increasingly aware of your proximity. “Besides, isn’t it pretty? A matcha latte with lavender, it’s green like you, too! And, I think you’re in need of something colourful, Highball.”

“Definitely colourful,” Hal remarks. “What would you serve Spooky?”

“Instant coffee or something, god knows he doesn’t care about taste,” you roll your eyes before nudging the mug closer to him, “Try it.”

Hal makes a show of sighing, reaching for his drink, “Better be on your dime, if you’re going to just do your own thing.”

“No way, you’re paying full price.”

“You said you didn’t care about the money, and you let Howie and Jane eat free,” Hal protests.

“Because they’re cute, despite being related to you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying I’m not cute, Miss Wayne?”

You place a fist against your mouth, humming in thought, “Well, maybe in a sad, old dog kind of way.”

Hal sputters. Yes, only you can toss him around the ring like this.

You continue your observation, reaching a hand to tousle his hair, “The way your hair is kind of growing out definitely isn’t helping you. Well, not that I dislike it.”

“Bit hard to keep track of haircuts with the life I’m living,” Hal retorts, lightly grabbing your wrist to release his hair. He holds it for a second, feeling the pulse beneath flesh before letting go.

He sees your eyes soften, as you furrow your brow in sympathy, “Hal—“

Whatever you’re about to say is interrupted when a pink explosion shatters the glass of your cafe, pushing you two and the surrounding tables back.

Hal blinks, ears ringing as he finds himself slumped on the group, back pressed against the counter that separated you two.

He tries to stand, placing a hand on your now crumbling floor, calling out your name, when a crisp and familiar voice rings out in the destruction.

“Oh, honey,” Star Sapphire, who was once again inhabiting the body of his ex-girlfriend and boss, Carol, stood in her full pink glory, gem shining proudly on her forehead, “You’re not cheating on me, are you?”

She thrusts a hand forward to grip his neck, as he groans out her name, barely believing she was here and possessed once again.

“Carol?”

She smirks, not in the confident, self assured way Carol always did, leaning in closer, until he could feel his breath mixing with her, “Yes.”

She kisses him before he can react, feeling the sheer power of the Star Sapphire injecting into his veins, paralyzing him, before a shot rings out and the woman is pushed away from, stumbling as she clutches the crystal embedded in her head.

You keep your shotgun pointed at the intruder, scratched and bruised, but alive and grinning, “Bullseye, but not enough to get that stone off, I guess.”

The other woman turns to you with fury in her eyes, “Know your place, you usurper!”

She raises her hand, pink light flaring out, strong enough to force you to avert your gaze, but before she can advance, green tendrils wrapped around her, pinning her wrists together.

“There’s enough of me to go around, ladies,” Hal jests, but the look on his face is anything but joking as he shoots you a glance. You duck out of the way.

“A queen does not share,” Star Sapphire rejects, writhing against her bonds.

“You can have him,” you reply, dropping your gun, already sore from her attack and the strain of having to actually pull out the weapon Alfred insisted you bring. God, your wrists hurt.

“Definitely going to circle back to the fact you’re packing heat, young lady,” Hal teases, tossing Sapphire out through the open whole of your wrecked cafe, far into the sky.

You follow him out of the cafe, rushing to keep up with the flying hero, “Talk to me, goose! Do you want me to call for backup?”

Hal chokes on a laugh. Damn, he regrets watching ‘Topgun’ with you.

“If your brother finds out I got you into this situation, I might have to skip out on this galaxy,” Hal denies, “Stay here, I’ll take care of her before you can even snitch on me.”

You scoff watching him fly off, constructing a baby Cupid to restrain Sapphire once again, “I mean, I have to call him. No way, I’m cleaning this up on my own, or using your dumbass constructs.”

“Carol, hang tight, I’m going to pry that rock off of you,” Hal reassures, nearly reaching her, before she presses her hands against the construct, melting it as she grins sinisterly.

“I feel a conflict,” Sapphire raises her arms, as she sends a strong shockwave to send Hal flying, “Your heart beats for another.”

She dives down, heading straight in your direction, “Her.”

The rock lifts from Carol’s head as she lets out a scream, the scarps of her outfit dissolving, you stumble against the broken pavement, making a break for it, “No, no way am I wearing that outfit—!”

You’re once again interrupted when you hear a disjointed voice call your name, “You are a body he desires.”

Carol falls out of the sky as the rock attaches itself to you, breaking down the barriers of your mind. “Why do you resist? I have read your mind. You will enjoy this. After all, you want him as much as I do.”

Hal curses, catching Carol, while wrapping her in a towel construct, watching as pink light swirls around you, already prepared for a renewed onslaught.

Carol calls his name, “I saw it all this time. I know what the Star Sapphire is. They come from Sector 1416, the Zamorans.”

Hal knew she was talking about the aliens that initially kidnapped her to be the host of their Queen, but neither were fully aware of their intentions, or the rock’s intentions with Hal.

Before they can continue, you cut in, coated in the glossy pink material Carol was wearing, skin he’s never seen before now revealed, smirking as you speak in a distorted bastardization of your voice, “Tell me, Hal, is this the body you prefer? It’s awfully yummy.”

Before Hal can reply, he has to evade a magenta laser, as you chase after him as he leads you out of the city. “I know you want me. I want you too, Hal Jordan. I want this whole planet. But first— I want you to drop the brunette!”

Hal does his best to ignore your voice, already beating himself up for putting you into this situation. Not that there’s much point, seeing as how your brother would give him a verbal lashing that would outdo any of the self deprecating thoughts he had.

“So, Wayne, huh? I’ve visited her cafe when I heard she moved. Should probably send her an apology card; for the cafe and having to deal with you,” Carol remarks from his arms, a certain edge in her voice.

“We’re not like that.” Hal responds, as your aggravated screams echo from behind him. He can feel the disbelieving stare Carol gives him.

Feeling the need to defend you two, he elaborates, “We both run in some of the same circles, she’s a good friend.”

Carol smiles ruefully, “Keep telling yourself that, Flyboy.”

Feeling you get closer, Hal sends another construct your way to slow your approach.

“You’ve chosen this body, haven’t you? So, I’ve taken it. I’m yours. Why do you still play games, Hal Jordan?” You call, before shooting a laser, ripping through the Green Cowboy he made. “Our union will be pleasurable.”

“I’ve gotta get that off her,” Hal states, frustrated with the cat and mouse game you’ve been playing thus far.

Carol speaks up. She recollects how she remembers all of the Sapphires moves when she was in control, and the memories of before. There was more than one Star Sapphire. That the Zamorans were once from Oa but left when the Guardians established the Corps. That they searched for something to match the rings, something that the Guardians would fear. And how they finally found it on the planet Zamoran, growing from the entangled skeletons of lovers, the Star Sapphire shined, born from the violet glow of love that continued in death. The moment they tried to grasp that rock, it attached itself to a Zamoran, taking three days to remove it. After that, they begun their experiments.

They chose Carol as one of them. It took control, before finding someone else, whoever Hal was with, seeking to mate and kill the Green Lantern of this planet so its spawn could take over, encasing every living cell with crystal. An act of protection, in their eyes. Hal shudders, he did not want you going all praying mantis on him, nice as you did look in pink.

Hal shakes his head, “Is that what the Zamorans think love is, Carol? Encasing life in crystal? Putting it in suspended animation? Love isn’t about control.”

Love was flowery green drinks and stupid movie references.

“The Zamorans think it is, Hal.” Carol reiterates.

“They’ve been isolated for billions of years. They’ve twisted what love means,” Hal disagrees.

“What does it mean? You’ve never even liked to say the word.” Carol bites.

He thinks of the way your eyes always seem to melt with emotion, fingers that brush against his cheeks before pinching down, as a mischievous laugh follows.

“Actions speak louder than words,” Hal deflects.

“For you, maybe.” Carol jabs, before slumping, the tension leaving her as the two see you catch up again. “So, Wayne? She’s the one, right? You’ve always had a soft spot for her, even before you…left.”

Hal stays silent for a moment, biting his lip. “…yes.”

“Enough teasing! Let’s find a spot!” You yell, using a burst of speed to tackle him, crashing into a hotel with a gaudy sign that read ‘Honeymoon’.

Hal could only use his ring to cushion Carol’s fall as you used your fist to strike him down, crashing against a rubble covered, Queen sized bed, as he lets out a moan of pain. From the corner of his eye, he can see two newly weds quickly evacuate the now broken room. Not the best start for their new lives together.

“What do you love, Hal Jordan? Do you love Earth?” You ask as you pounce on him pinning his wrists against the ground, as crystal begins to encase them, submerging his ring. “Do you love this ring? Do you love me?”

Yes.

You bring your hands up, covered by gloves that made your fingers resemble claws.

“I don’t do this on the first date, Miss Wayne.” Hal breathes out, watching as Carol approaches you, holding kindling from the ruined fireplace.

You smile down at him, and for a moment he can believe it’s really you that wants him, that he hasn’t fucked you over like he always does with everyone else.

“Oh, darling,” You smile turns feral as you run your fingers down his chest, tearing through his uniform. “…Super heroes don’t lie.”

Carol smashes the flaming log against your head, “You’ve never met Green Arrow.”

If you were yourself right now, you would probably share a tale how during a party, a drunk Oliver wandered to your room, threw up in your bed, and then promptly passed out. That much, Hal was sure of.

Using your distracted state, he breaks free from the crystals binding his wrists as you lay on the floor disoriented.

Before he can tell Carol to leave, she demands Hal to make her a suit. Heirs and their need to fight villains, Hal laments, encasing her in green light as you stumble to your feet.

“I kept Carol Ferris alive in case you changed your mind, but now I will burn her flesh—!” You cry out as Carol slams a fist into your chest, sending you through the wall and into the parking lot below.

“You should know better than to write checks you can’t cash out, Wayne!”

You hit her with a burst of violet light, slamming her into a car, “And green isn’t your colour!”

Hal picks up a car, decorated with a ‘Just Married’ sign, and crushes you with it, wincing even though he knew you would be without injury.

“That’s more your colour, right? That, or purple.” Hal snarks, knowing you couldn’t send back your usual remarks. Not until he got rid of that stupid rock. “…If you can hear me, I’m sorry.”

You struggled under the vehicle that pinned you down, “Hal..? What’s going on? Bruce is going to kill you when he finds out—!”

Hal shoots a laser down onto the rock, “Don’t roleplay. I know you’re in control until the jewel comes off.”

“I’ll be anyone you want,” you plead with teary eyes, but he only grits his teeth, trying to work the gem off you. “Hal…”

He’d make it up to you. Anything you wanted. Even if you asked him to pick a fight with Wonder Woman, he’d do it.

Carol calls his name but a portal emerges from above, blowing the two back. Zamorans, clad in pink armour appear, standing above your unconscious body.

Yes, today was definitely not his day. Or yours, seeing how they wanted to keep you and Carol as members of their corps for all time.

Hal quickly sends out a bomb of green light, knocking the intruders away as Carol approaches you with a discarded Zamoran spear.

“This is going to sting, Wayne.” She forces the blade down prying the rock off of you, the forced removal causing an explosion that knocks back Hal and the Zamorans.

You awaken with a killer headache while lying on rubble, fully nude. Carol isn’t any better, tossing you a t-shirt as she shucks on some granny pajamas. She actually might be better off than you, seeing how your shirt says ‘I am easy’.

“Don’t suppose you’re willing to switch?”

“Not on your life, Wayne.”

The two of you rush out of the parkade you were collapsed in, seeing Hal slumped down, the Zamorans pointing their spears towards his neck.

“You have power equal to the Guardians, Green Lantern. If you don’t allow the Star Sapphire to love you, we will force you to accept it in whatever way we deem,” they coldly remark.

“Hal!”

Before you can approach him, the discarded gem shoots out of the building behind you, encasing you and Carol in crystal, forcing you two to still, unable to even struggle.

“Choose your mate, Hal Jordan. I will make your fantasies come true,” The rock orders, “Carol Ferris. You’ve spent the best and worst days of your life with her.”

It calls your name as you watch a Zamoran slam Hal’s head into the ground, “She’s become your sanctuary. She lets you look to the future. Choose.”

“Choose someone. Okay.” Hal grits out, bringing a hand to grab the Zamoran restraining him. “C’mere, Gorgeous.”

He pulls the alien into a passionate kiss as Carol lets out a noise of disgust.

Hal has pretty good tongue game, it seems.

They pull away, with a string of salvia dripping from the aliens lips, “What are you doing, Guardian dog!?”

“Trying not to throw up,” Hal replies smugly.

“He has chosen neither of you,” The rock notes before zipping to the baffled Zamoran, sticking to her head despite her cries of protest

A new Star Sapphire emerges as the other Zamorans watching with dismay as they are forced to retreat with lest their ally becomes possessed for eternity.

“So, you threw a little affection, and the rock fell for it?” Carol asks in shock as Hal uses his ring to chip away the crystal that encased you two.

“I’m definitely telling everyone this,” You grin.

“That I saved you from being the host to love maniacs? Be my guest,” Hal laughs, relieved that your giggles fill the air.

After seeing Carol off, you two return to what’s left of your cafe.

“Guess I’ll have to temporarily close.” You remark, turning when Hal calls your name.

“I’m sorry. I put you on their radar, they might come back. I’m still stationed on Earth for now, so I’ll check the area regularly. I won’t let them ever pull something like this—!” You interrupt his rant by placing a finger against his lips.

“Hal, I’m from Gotham. I’m more than used to be held hostage by freaks. Was I ever possessed? No, but it’ll make a good story next time I go back home,” you smile.

How can you smile like that, he wonders.

“Don’t tell your brother?” He murmurs against your pointer finger.

“He probably knew the moment Sapphire blew us up,” you laugh, hands coming up to cradle his face as he groans in dismay.

“And we just got back on good terms. Guess I’m back on the naughty list.”

“Well, it was inevitable, don’t you think?” You spoke quietly, drawing his face closer to yours.

“What do you mean?” He whispers, barely able to force the words out before you press your lips against his.

He wraps his arms around your waist, drawing you in closer as he deepens the kiss.

When you let out a noise, Hal knows that he’s more than willing to have the entirety of the Bat clan after him when you fit so well in his arms.

From the ‘Mystery of the Star Sapphire’ issues by Johns! And yes, we have Bruce’s baby sis as the reader. I think she becomes a Blue Lantern in Blackest Night like Barry…and yes the cafe is ‘coffee talk’ inspired!

Also omg sometimes I check people’s blogs from my notifs if they have a cool name, and literally the second post was someone’s…thing. I was in the kitchen! My mother was ten feet away! God why!!!!

Masterlist

[rizzoreads88]

✨Reasons why I’m still confident Elriel is endgame✨

1)All the hints and foreshadowing we have had for them since Acomaf.

There is a lot but I’m only going to list the main ones…*how they reacted to each other the first time they met and they both were wearing cobalt blue*azriel being the one to figure out she was a seer and then his understanding started to help Elain get better * the entire Hybern rescue scene and Azriel being full of rage ready to die to get to her*Azriel lending her truth teller when he never let anyone else touch it.*Azriel and Elain spending time alone together in the garden multiple times*Azriel following the sound of her laughter*Elain calling Azriels hands beautiful *Azriels shadows lighting up at her smile*Azriels shadows wanting to attack Nesta for insulting Elains personality* The way Azriel reacts whenever Elains Hybern kidnapping is brought up, *His entire Bonus chapter scene with Elain & Rhysand, *Azriel being upset about and still focused on Elain even after his bonus chapter scene w Gwyn takes place. *azriel having a physical reaction to Eluciens mate bond and seeing elain around Lucien.

2)Lucien & Vassa

Vassien has been my longest Acotar ship. I have been pretty sure about them since Acowar. The moment SJM retconned Lucien’s Dad to a spell cleaver, then we find out Vassa has a unbreakable curse and SJM has Lucien be the one to find her (a bird of flame and a lord of fire I wonder if they’d found each other yet) I truly felt Elucien was not going to happen. There was literally no other reason for her to retcon his dad. Then she’s built them up ever since as well. ( Feyre watching them off alone suprised how Lucien is acting around Vassa, Lucien blushing talking about Vassa, Lucien getting a spark in his eye or Vassa, Lucien having a pained physical reaction when Vassa talks about being enslaved to Koschei, Lucien seemingly setting a target on Koschei over Vassa, Mor pointing out it’s not usually for mates to be away from each other and ok, the inner circle saying Lucien is biased about Vassa now and they can’t trust his reports on her, SJM pointing out Lucien and Vassa are the true exiles jurian is not, Cassian & Nesta also questioning/wondering about Lucien’s reactions to Vassa or about her…) SJM has been slowly building Elriel alongside Vassien in the background. SJM has also talked about how she wanted to do a vasalisa the beautiful and a swan lake retelling and Lucien/Vassa& Koschei fit that perfectly. Now couple this will all the information we get on mates being able to reject a mate bond, mates not always being love matches, people questioning eluciens bond ect…

3)Gwyns Growth in Acosf

Another reason why I’m confident in elriel is because we got so much of Gwyns story in Acosf. People take us learning so much about Gwyn as a sign she’s next but I think it’s actually the opposite.In 1 book we met her, saw her grow, she got her besties, she revealed her deep trauma and how it affects her and we see her start to really overcome that. If Gwyn was getting her own POV SJM would have saved most of that for her book. If you look at Feyre,Nesta,Manon,Lidia ect w we didn’t learn about their true traumas or see them really start to work on it until we were in their own pov. Yes we got hints and a general idea but nothing in depth like we have for Gwyn.(like Elain we have gotten a lot of hints of her trauma but not the true depth of it or her true feelings over it yet in depth… )But if you look at characters like Fenrys, Asterin their storyline happened like Gwyns. They were amazing supporting characters and we learned about their trauma and saw their growth through Aelin/manons pov like we did for Gwyn through Nesta

4)HOFAS

We got absolutely nothing for Gwyn in Hofas. Which really surprised me because Gwyn has been studying the possibility of different worlds/realms with Merrill this would have been the PERFECT time to bring her in in a small way and give us some sort of hint and we got nothing. Even when Bryce was talking about her best friend to Nesta we still got nothing about Gwyn. A huge promising sign to me that Elriel is still endgame …Now remember how Sarah said she left breadcrumbs in azriels bonus chapter? Azriel questioned the cauldron over Eluciens mate bond in acosf and then in hofas the crossover he is heavily involved in we find out the cauldron was infact corrupted by the Daglan. SJM followed throw on those breadcrumbs to the next book…

5)Elriel in Azriels BC

If Elriel weren’t endgame why even give us their scene in his bonus chapter? She could have had Elains scene be with Lucien and azriels just be with gwyn but she didn’t…. Until then nothing solid had happened on page for elriel.. yes there has been moments and alot of foreshadowing but we hadn’t had thier feelings on page yet and in the bonus chapter she gives us canon confirmation they are into each other… then brings up the obstacle that they will have to overcome (Eluciens mate bond) She has rhysand set it up even further and then leaves things unresolved between them…. Why do annnnyyyyy of that if they weren’t endgame? It’s bc she set their story up the same way she did nessian in acofas… a special moment and then a “rejection” and they were left unsettled…. The same way she did for feyre and rhysand in acotar… they have a special moment as they are saying goodbye and feyre is staying w tamlin but then Rhys realizes she’s his mate and leaves, leaving her alone for months…. Again leaving them unresolved……….. people say “she did that to end them” If SJM was “ending” then she wouldn’t have left them unresolved. SJM could have just simply move elain on to Lucien and had her scene w him in the BC and kept Azriels with Gwyn and then start to move azriel on ti Gwyn after the Bonus chapter scene. But she didn’t. Because days later Azriel is still into Elain.

If you stuck with me this long phew thank you! Now while I am confident Elriel/Vassien are happening I do not think it is 100% set in stone yet. I don’t take anything as confirmation unless SJM confirms it or it’s in the books. So while I am confident I also do not count my chicken before the hatch. Could SJM change her mind and go in a different direction? Sure but that could be said about any couple in her series now too. Based on canon text and how she writes endgame pairings I truly think it will be Elriel/Vassien.

[skibasyndrome]

"please, speak to me" for the prompt thingy?🫶

Tinaaaa!!! Thank you so much for sending me this prompt! I'm extremely sorry for taking forever to write this, but here it iiiis.

Because I simply couldn't leave them in their messy little fwb situation, this is a follow-up to this drabble here.

Hope you'll enjoy! 💜💜💜

For the first couple of days, Wille is so caught up in replaying his last night with Simon that he doesn’t fully notice to which extent he’s being avoided. When he does, the realization hits him square in the chest.

Wille doesn’t think that, during the admittedly relatively short time they’ve known each other, he’s ever gone this long without speaking to Simon. They just clicked, right away, became friendly very quickly, became… more than friendly equally quickly. And up till now they’ve never gone this long without speaking, at least a little bit. Wille misses his friend’s presence next to him during the one lecture on postmodernism they normally attend together. And he misses the stupid jokes they tell each other in the cafeteria during lunch breaks. Wille texts Simon twice during the week following the incident. Both times, Simon answers quickly, but the conversations die down just as quickly. Wille knows he’s busy with exams, but this is different. Simon won’t admit that anything’s wrong, continues to throw Wille a quick smile every time they cross paths on campus. But before Wille has the chance to approach him, he’s gone again. It feels like something ended between them. And Wille doesn’t know what to do about it, let alone what to say. He can’t suggest they have sex again. Well. He would like to, but he won’t. Every time he thinks back to Simon storming off, he feels like an idiot. But any other suggestion feels almost more ridiculous. He can almost hear Simon scoff at him whenever he thinks of something new to say. They’ve never done anything else, they’ve been friendly at uni, then spent their time back in the dorms fucking. Anything beyond that feels like an imposition. In front of his mind’s eye, Simon is rolling his eyes and shaking his head at Wille’s suggestion for brunch on Sunday or a couple drinks Thursday night. And so he keeps them to himself, his silly suggestions. But by week two, Wille feels like he’s going to burst if he lets the scenario play out inside of his head another fucking time. He needs to figure this out, needs to fix whatever there is to fix. Right whatever wrong it was that Wille did. Even if this arrangement, whatever it was, is over for Simon, Wille wants them to part on good terms. And not have Simon think badly of him. He feels more than a little silly as he finds himself walking through the halls of the music lecture building. And even while he’s waiting outside of the room he knows Simon’s choir is practicing in, he almost gets up and leaves again two times. Scrolling on his phone is barely enough of a distraction. Especially when, from time to time, a few beautiful notes hit his ear, coming through the large door. This would be a lot easier if he didn’t immediately recognize the beautiful voice. or Or if he didn’t remember what other beautiful sounds that voice is capable of producing, under the right conditions. 

He clears his throat and rolls his neck, trying to banish those tempting images from his mind. He’s about to give up and leave again, go for a walk or go find something else to distract him from his own misery, when the door opens and a couple of students start streaming out. Wille immediately gets up from the random chair he’s found sitting in the hallway, straightens up, feeling weirdly caught and weirdly out of place. Before he can wonder if Simon will even notice him standing in the hallway like a lost little puppy, the door closes again. It leaves Wille standing face to face with the man he hasn’t gotten a proper look at in a very long two weeks. Wille raises his hand for an awkward wave and notices too late that he clearly must’ve interrupted a conversation between Simon and his choir teacher, who now looks between the two of them, visibly confused. Even she must notice that this amount of silence isn’t very normal. Giving Wille another once-over, she retrieves her key from where she was about to lock the door and hands it over to Simon. She tells him to leave it on her desk later before walking off. For a gratingly long moment it looks like Simon is about to run after her. When he turns back around to Wille he looks a little less panicked, albeit no less confused. His bag is casually slung over his shoulder, and something inside of Wille’s chest aches at the familiar picture. Instead of dwelling on it, though, he shakes his head slightly, takes a step towards Simon. “Hey,” he starts and tries to smile, but it must be coming off exactly as weird and forced as it feels, because Simon only nods at him. “Hey.” Simon’s own smile is late, seems a little out of place. Maybe there’s still time to run away. But when Simon opens his mouth to speak, a different sense of panic washes over Wille, so he simply has to blurt it out. “I wanted to see you.” The silence that follows Wille’s confession is clearly taunting him. Simon just looks at him with his brows furrowed. “And I wanted to talk to you,” Wille continues, and maybe it’s the way Simon’s gaze darts back and forth between Wille’s lips and his eyes that makes Wille go on.  “Because I missed you,” he says. And because he’s not made enough of a fool of himself.  “Miss you, I mean.” Simon only nods quickly and, for a second, Wille gets caught up in his eyes. It's been entirely too long since he’s gotten a proper look at them. If Wille didn’t know any better, the idea that he���s spent hours looking at them before would sound ridiculous.

Simon is the first to break contact. He clears his throat. “So…?” he starts, then trails off, lifting himself up and down on his tiptoes. “Can we talk?” Wille is practically pleading and, as if on cue, a student pushes his way past, apparently seeing no better path than going between him and Simon. “I mean, maybe…” Wille gestures towards the room and Simon catches his hint. He gives a curt nod, one that Wille can’t read. But he does turn around, and not to leave. He slips in through the door, Wille at his heels. And before Wille has any chance to take in the interior of the room, or think about what the fuck he’s supposed to do now, now that he’s gotten to this point, Simon is on him. Wille's back hits the door with a loud thud, his chest immediately colliding with Simon's. He lets out a strangles sound of surprise when he suddenly has an arm full of Simon. But even his moment of shock is cut short when Simon’s lips are on his. Finally again. Wille quickly melts into the touch, relishes in the way Simon licks into his mouth, almost like he's been plagued by the same desperate need that has rendered Wille sleepless for these past two weeks. Wille's arms close around Simon's middle, backpack and all, and Wille lets out a sigh of… something. Relief, probably, but also pleasure. This is what they're good at, this is a way in which they've always understood each other. This is what makes sense for them. So much sense that Simon has Wille heavily panting against his lips in no time, so much sense that Wille’s hands easily find their way into the back pockets of Simon’s jeans, like they’re two puzzle pieces. So much sense that it takes Wille a long time, many seconds, minutes maybe, to realize that this isn’t what he came for. Not really, not initially. He tries to pull back, not going far with the wood of the door right behind him. But Simon understands, moves back, then takes a big step away from Wille that causes Wille’s hands to slip out of his pockets. He weakly holds them at his side, suddenly feeling really awkward about just standing here. He clears his throat. “I…” It’s like Simon didn’t only take away his breath, but also his speech. Wille tears his eyes from Simon’s face, from the soft reddish hue on his cheeks, from his wet lips. “I wanted to talk about last time, what you said. I-” Simon interrupts him with a groan. “Can’t we just forget about this already?” He sounds frustrated, angry almost, but there’s a trace of desperation. Wille swallows hard, very unhelpfully notices Simon’s taste on his tongue. While every bone in Wille’s body is yearning to just get back to what they were doing, to get back to what’s always felt good, he knows he shouldn’t. Not like this. Not until he’s tried, not until-

Simon groans loudly again and moves towards the handle, trying to get past Wille. His rib cage contracts painfully at the sight, and his last resolve crumbles. “Wait, please, wait, Simon,” he tries, quietly, too quietly, but, fuck, how else is he supposed to say this. Without thinking about it, he goes in for Simon’s wrist, grabs it, squeezes once, then lets go again, suddenly terrified he’s making it worse. He back away from the door, stops blocking it. “I’m sorry, Simon, I don’t-” “Don’t say it,” Simon rushes out. As quickly as he reached for the door, he’s taking a few steps back again. Wille opens and closes his mouth again, entirely helpless. He’s not fucking following. He shakes his head, trying to make sense of it all. “But what you said then, and when you left-” “It doesn’t matter, okay?” Simon is pacing, and there’s too much distance between them for Wille’s liking, way too much. But he doesn’t want to reach out, doesn’t want to overstep, but, fuck he needs to fix this, he needs to understand, he needs Simon to tell him. He can’t keep wondering if maybe, just maybe…. When Simon stops pacing only to go for the door again, it bursts out of Wille. “Please, just speak to me!” He startles himself with his raised voice, and Simon stops dead in his tracks, head whipping around towards Wille. It’s Simon’s turn to gape at him, speechless.

He juts out his chin in defiance and crosses his arms. Wille’s heartbeat quickens when Simon turns towards him again. There’s a fire in his eyes that makes Wille feel like Simon is the one towering over him. For another few seconds, they just stare at each other, neither willing to be the first to break contact. It’s scary, tense, like any wrong move could shatter everything. Wille decides then and there that he’ll keep this up for hours if he has to, if it means that Simon isn’t going to run away again. But it seems like Simon has different plans. With a long, exasperated sigh, he turns away again. Wille watched his shoulders sag, watches him throw his head back in frustration. When he runs a hand up and through his curls, a silly part of Wille’s conscience wishes he could be the one doing that. “Look,” Simon starts, and Wille steels himself for whatever revelation might be coming his way. His eyes never leave Simon’s face, still. “I’m sorry, okay?” Wille feels his face fall. “I’m sorry that this isn’t what we wanted, I’m sorry that I said what I said, I just-” Simon tugs on his hair again and lets out a frustrated noise. “It’s okay,” he says, and suddenly all the fierceness drains out of his voice. When he twists his head to look back towards Wille, Wille’s pulse yet again picks up speed.

“It’s okay that you don’t want the same thing, it is!” Wille has trouble listening with his heartbeat hammering away at his temples. “We can keep doing this,” Simon gestures between the two of them ”I’ll be fine, I swear, can we just not talk about-” Suddenly, it clicks. Oh. “Stop,” Wille says, quietly, carefully, and it must be such a stark difference in tone that it’s unsettling. Simon immediately quiets down, enough for Wille to take a step towards him. To finally close the distance between them. Wille doesn’t think his pulse has ever been this quick without him nearing a panic attack. Once again, he swallows. “You’re saying that you… like me?” Simon presses his eyes shut, lets his head fall back in a movement of aggravation. “Wille…,” he groans, but there’s no edge to his voice, no hostility. He rolls his head back, looks pained, but he doesn’t withdraw, stays where he is. “Yes, I like you. That’s the whole point, that’s why-” Oh. Wille doesn’t waste another second, doesn’t give Simon any more time to misunderstand him. With a fervor that’s entirely new in its intensity, he rushes forward. One hand on Simon’s neck, the other reaching for Simon’s arm, linking their fingers together loosely, Wille kisses him. He kisses him and kisses him and lets out a pathetic little noise when Simon presses back after a moment, returns the kiss with equal force. Fuck. Wille can’t keep it in any longer. A wave of relief washes over him, strong, intense, warm, just like Simon. Wille giggles into their kiss, breaks away from Simon’s lips. When he does, he doesn’t pull away, rests his forehead against Simon’s. And he simply can’t hold back his stupid grin. “I like you too,” he says and fuck, that feels a lot like butterflies. “A lot.”

Send me one of these prompts for a short lil story 💜

[ladyandherbooks]

Here's my theory about what I think will happen with Maria if we get a season 3.

So one of the biggest differences between the original show and Nocturne is that Nocturne is a coming of age tale for Maria, Richter and Annette. A coming of age tale where we see them take their first true steps into adulthood as they unlock and embrace their magic, gain confidence and start becoming the protectors and legends they'll one day be famous for.

Season 1 was Richter's season and season 2 was Annette's. It was also the season where we see Richter and Annette become a couple and Richter takes the big step to go with Annette, another big step into adulthood where he leaves his home and family and starts to make a life for himself.

But because Maria is only 16 she can't take all these steps yet. She's staying in Paris but she has Juste, her adoptive father at her side supporting her. She isn't quite there yet but she will be if we get a timeskip.

Since Symphony of the Night takes place in 1797 I think that this will be when season 3 takes place. Maria will be 21/22 (seasons 1 and 2 take place in January 1792) and will be old enough to have this final part of her coming of age story to kick off.

I think that after 5 years as a revolutionary is going to take some sort of emotional toll on her. And as for historical context - 1797 is the year when the royalists take power with a coup to overthrow them coming later in the year. This could be a good historical backdrop for season 3, especially if they want to show Maria's growing anger and darkness within.

This would also be a good time to have Tera reunite with Maria. Reunite them but slowly show Tera, under the influence of control of the Being that Olrox calls Old Man Coyote starts to convince Maria to give into her anger, frustration and rage. Have the being use the love that Maria has for Tera to its own advantage, have it try to sow seeds of doubt and mistrust against Juste and Alucard, have it emotionally manipulate Maria with Tera, knowing that Maria should love her more than anything.

But then we have Juste and Alucard, two very powerful threats to this beings plans for Maria. Juste, as Maria's new father has been able to bring her back from the darkness, to get her to embrace the light and love that she needs to use her magic in the way that she wants to. He's a threat as a parental figure and as a powerful fighter who knows what it's like to lose himself and his magic and can therefore get through to Maria in a way that would threaten this being. However, Juste sees vampires as beyond saving, he's tried to kill Tera twice and he'd do so again. This could work in the beings favour as it could help to create a seed of doubt or wedge between father and daughter.

And then we have Alucard, the man who is probably going to be the biggest threat to the being in its quest to get Maria. Alucard and Maria have a number of similarities, both are deeply tied to the Belmonts and consider them family, both have a vampire for a parent, both have killed their fathers and both have possessed incredible power from a young age. It's clear that the writers want to see them bond and to explore this relationship, whatever form it takes.

I also think that Tera and the Being have been keeping a close eye on these 3 and so is definitely aware of the different dynamics in this trio and how to exploit them as best it can.

However I do think we have 1 important wildcard that I think that no one truly understands - Maria's feelings for Alucard.

I do think that everyone, Juste, Alucard, Tera and the Being are well aware of Maria's feelings for Alucard, but I don't think that anyone, perhaps not even Maria know how deep and strong her love is for him.

So I think that towards the end of the season we'll get a big fight between the Tera, the Being and the trio where Maria will be focus. She'll have already walked down a dark path and done at least 1 dark thing and Juste and Alucard will be there trying to stop Tera and the Being from corrupting her fully.

And then we'll get the beginning of a tragedy, where Tera will try to convince Maria to walk away from her found family and come to her. The Being, fully possessing and controlling Tera will try to use the love that Maria has for her mother in order to get its hands on her.

And here is where it's going to fail. As Tera It's going to harm Juste and then Alucard, seriously harming or about to kill the latter. During the fight Maria's going to have doubts and will be torn between Tera and her found family. But in this moment Maria is going to have to make a terrible, nearly impossible choice about who she loves and needs more. And she's going to choose Alucard. She'll choose Alucard, she'll save and protect him by killing her mother. And Tera will let her, will break through the control that the Being has on her and will do everything in her power to ensure that she dies right then and there and that in doing so will save Maria from this Beings grasp. She'll redeem and save herself through the love she and Maria have for one another.

And she'll die and the Being will lose its host but will still be at large. It will flee and will leave a devastated, broken, guilty and grief stricken Maria who will be just like Alucard was in the aftermath of killing his own father.

[ni-idea-07]

Pierced Little Bird.

Part 1. Part 2

TW: torture of minors, death of children, drowning, mild yandere But not as much as in the next installment, the Joker is a monster But Two Face tries to compete. In this chapter, the yandere theme will not be given as much relevance. English is not my first language.

-------

The Wayne mansion was quieter than usual. Bruce felt worse than ever and more alone than an abandoned dog in the middle of Christmas.

Dick was in Blüdhaven, Jason was still estranged from him –But at least on good terms–, Tim had taken a "break" since his father now knew that he was Robin. Stephanie had tried to take his place temporarily But that ended badly, so the place was left vacant for you

She promised not to have more Robins and wait for Tim to come back, but she couldn't. You offered so kindly after you defeated some robbers who robbed a woman leaving a nightclub, you were such an adorable young lady that you lit up the alley in which you practically cornered Batman –ironic–.

You were originally from Star City and had been Green Arrow's apprentice –yes, you had been Speedy–, something that helped Bruce accept you.

–"Please, Mr. Bat... I can be a good Wonder Girl" – you said with shining eyes, handing him a "curriculum vitae" detailing your skills as Green Arrow's former apprentice.

Bruce hesitated. He didn't want to drag another young girl into the dangerous life of vigilante, but your enthusiasm and determination broke through his defenses. And, although he wouldn't admit it, Alfred also played an important role.

–"Maybe just a few training sessions, but you won't use Bow and arrows." –Bruce yielded, while you jumped for joy.

Bruce trained you on a temporary basis, knowing that Tim would be back in a few months. However, he couldn't help but feel that something in his life was changing, especially seeing how you adapted to the role of Robin with such ease.

You were happy, too happy, and you loved being Robin. You were a good teammate, you knew how to defend yourself, and you followed every order to the letter, which gave you extra points.

Damn, Bruce adored you and would do anything to have a daughter like you and be able to be proud to say that you were his daughter. –You already had parents and that's why he couldn't adopt you–.

You were a very adorable and lively young woman, Dick adored you. You were an only child so you enjoyed being with Dick a lot, both of you were the "clown duo" according to Jason's nicknames. Even so, you also got along well with Jason, he was like the rebellious brother who talked back to Bruce. Jason also corrected your homework and you asked him what you didn't understand so you could finish it –if you didn't do your homework you wouldn't go out on patrol, it was an agreement you made with Bruce from day one–.

Although your parents loved you, their jobs left them little time for you. This, added to your need for attention and affection, made you more susceptible to the way Bruce was beginning to treat you, as if you were a daughter to him."

–"Look, Mr. Bat! With just one hand" you smiled as you hung from one of the bars in the Batcave gym.

–"I'll tell Dick not to teach you that anymore"– Bruce whispered more to him than to you.

While you were fully capable of taking care of yourself, that didn't stop him from overprotecting and pampering you.

Had you gotten hurt on patrol? Well, Dad Bruce would put a band-aid on you while telling you how well you had done. Yes, Bruce might not be a good father figure, but he loved being a father and couldn't help but break his walls with you.

During a mission, Scarecrow's toxin affected you severely. Bruce, worried, stayed by your side all night, holding you and whispering words to you. reassuringly as Alfred administered the cure. You fell asleep in his arms a little while later. But he woke you up two hours later to tell you to go back home so your parents wouldn't suspect anything.

Alfred, who had always been so reserved, found comfort in your presence at the mansion. He saw you as a spark of light in a home full of shadows, and every evening, when you came to greet him before leaving for the Batcave, he couldn't help but smile tenderly.

You had a big appetite so Alfred cooked a big meal for you after you got back from patrol.

When you missed patrol and the dinner Alfred had so lovingly prepared, Bruce felt hurt, like you had left him behind. He couldn't understand why you had decided to leave, even though he knew your parents needed you. The silent treatment he gave you that night was his way of dealing with the pain of seeing you leave, even though inside, he wished you were there, with him.

Your parents wanted to return to Star City, their previous home. However, upon arriving in Gotham, they couldn't help but feel trapped in the life they had chosen. You, on the other hand, didn't know if you wanted to leave anymore. Gotham had started to become your home, a place full of chaos but also of people who understood you in a way Star City never did.

One particular night you were on patrol with Batman, Two Face had recently escaped from Arkham and lately he had been imitating some of the Joker's "best" crimes.

This was ridiculous according to what Bruce had said, but somehow they had to stop him before he destroyed Gotham City. Still that night they couldn't see any trace of him.

It was a boring night, you were young and full of energy, you needed action. But it was already 4:00 AM and Batman sent you home. You needed to rest if you wanted to pass the exam tomorrow. Normally Bruce would take you in the Batmobile and leave you 5 blocks from the apartment where you lived with your parents, but tonight it wouldn't be necessary, the streets were quiet and although it was strange it was nothing to worry about, they both made sure of that.

But how wrong they were.

–"Help! Please someone help me!"– a woman screamed in an alley.

You ran until you reached the alley where you expected to find anything but what you found. The screaming woman was fine but as soon as you approached her, men twice your size grabbed you, one by each arm.

–"What's going on?"– you asked as you tried to free yourself.

–"I promise you that none of this is personal"– a man spoke who came out of the darkest part of the alley, it was Harvey Dent or rather Two Face.

You could only open your mouth before he put a taser to your neck. Everything was reduced to pain and you soon fell unconscious.

====================================

You woke up who knows how long later, you were on the ground with your wrists tied behind your back, your ankles were also tied.

You hurt all over, the disgusting bathroom only made you want to vomit and cry from helplessness. You were scared. You had fallen into a trap and you didn't even have time to fight.

A kick landed on your stomach leaving you breathless.

–"Are you awake?"– asked Two Face. –"Well, it's time to start, heads: I'll kill you after hitting you a little, tails: I'll let you go after a little torture."

The coin turned and landed on heads.

–"Alright, heads. Let's get on with it, Wonder Girl."

Another kick landed on your torso, you could only bend in place but still couldn't stop the torture that was coming.

–"You, turn on the camera, I want the bat to have a souvenir at the end of the day"– Harvey spoke to one of his henchmen while he was still kicking you.

You lost count of how many kicks he gave you, but you could barely breathe. Still, everything came to your mind, if Two Face discovered your identity he would go after your parents, your beloved parents. Then he would go after Bruce and soon the whole city would know Batman's identity and soon Nightwing's, Red Hood's, Oracle's and absolutely all the other vigilantes of Gotham, and even, if he investigated a little more he would discover the identities of all the heroes of the Justice League.

All that was what you thought in seconds, even imagining how Bruce would hate you after his identity was revealed.

But that was a stupid thought of yours. You didn't know it yet but Harvey would do everything to you except let you live.

You were scared, he tortured you a lot, he started by taking off your combat boots and ripping out your toenails.

–"I swear this is nothing personal, I even like you, but I can't let that stupid fifth-rate clown keep the achievement of having killed a Robin. It wouldn't be fair, right?"

You could barely think of your beloved parents and Bruce, even Oliver. All you could do was scream......

He got tired of hearing your screams and pleas, he grabbed a coin –"let's do this, heads: I'll cut your tongue out. Tails: I'll sew your mouth shut."

The coin was flipped and for your luck or bad luck it landed heads. The pain on your face was the first thing you felt, Harvey hit you in the face and then opened your tongue and grabbed it with his fingers and then cut it off with a knife.

The pain was too much that you couldn't even scream anymore, your body completely tensed up.

–"Oh, are you dead already?"– he laughed when he saw that you didn't even scream. –"I never thought that capturing a Robin would be so easy, I guess it's because you're just a child, a young and pathetic child. In fact, I have an idea....".

He smiled and took off your domino mask. You closed your eyes, the idea that he would know your name came to your mind, that he would do something to your parents and your friends.

–"Wow, I don't have the slightest idea who you are."

You practically let out a sigh of relief which didn't last long, Harvey began to fill the tub with water.

–"It was nice meeting you, wonder girl."– he mocked before grabbing your hair tightly and dragging you so that you were kneeling next to the tub.

His double face smiled before submerging your head in the water.

===================

Bruce had been worried, you hadn't shown up in days, nor did you show any signs of being sick. Your parents were also worried and they put up posters all over the city.

But you didn't show up.

One night Nightwing and Batman were able to catch Two Face but he just laughed when he saw that they still didn't know what had happened to you.

It wasn't until Bruce saw the tape that Harvey gave him.

Two full hours where he tortured you, hurting you, drowning you... until your small body stopped moving.

Bruce tried to figure out where it was and it wasn't hard to connect the dots and know that your missing body was still there.

The bathroom where they found you belonged to a horrible abandoned building. Rats had already eaten some parts of your body, your face had dried blood coming out of your mouth. Still, that didn't stop him from kneeling down and hugging your cold body.

The Wayne family was never the same. You were buried in Wayne Cemetery, Bruce, Dick, Oliver and Roy carried your coffin.

Your parents never found out about that, they never knew you had been found and buried.

Bruce couldn't allow your parents to bury you in Star City or somewhere else where he couldn't visit you daily.

Soon Tim took up the mantle of Robin again before Damian arrived a year later and became the new Robin.

Still, the family was worse than ever.

Dick came over from time to time and still waited for the silly and innocent jokes you made, he got depressed when he saw you weren't coming back.

Jason was almost off the radar, after all, he only came to the mansion because you always found a way to bring him back and after Jason killed Two Face by dismembering him, Bruce didn't want to talk to him anymore.

Tim was also depressed, he had lost Stephanie, his father, and you. But Stephanie reappeared as Spoiler.

Those were the worst years for Bruce, another loss. He couldn't protect you and tortured himself daily watching the video of your torture.

Many times Alfred found Bruce sleeping in front of your tombstone.

–"Sir, Master Damian is waiting for you for dinner. You don't want your pasta to get cold" Alfred said as he found Bruce watching the video again.

–"I'm not hungry" he answered, repeating the video again.

–"Miss Y/N didn't like you skipping dinner, especially if there was company."

Bruce sighed and stood up, ready to face his new son. He was still trying to get used to having a biological son.

Dinner was silent, Bruce didn't want to talk, much less eat.

–"Whose room is next to mine?"– Damian asked.

Bruce didn't know how to answer, it was the room he made for you after you died, one where he had recreated each of the things you liked. He was still waiting for you to come back, he wasn't ready to let you go.

–"it's for Y/N....."

There was a small silence, Damian already knew who you were since he had found some photos that you had taken with Dick, both of you making silly and expensive poses. He knew the pain you had caused by dying.

–"mm...."

Suddenly there was a series of knocks on the large door of the mansion. That made Bruce go on alert, he wasn't expecting visitors and to get to the mansion you had to go through the large main gate first. In any case the intruder alarm should have gone off.

Bruce approached the door as did Alfred. And the latter was the one who opened the door with caution.

Alfred was in shock as soon as he saw who it was and then turned his head to where Bruce was.

–"sir.....you won't believe it"

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Ugh, I've been thinking about this for a long time and I hope I've expressed myself correctly.

If you have any questions or want more information, don't hesitate to ask.

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