#but clearly brother is caffeinated

[bitchslapblastoids]

remembering how dan said his rider is “2 bananas and a Red Bull” bc yeah that bitch is FRICKIN ZAZZED

[lostandbackagain]

.

[thaylepo]

I LOVE historical fiction, I love the fuck out of it. Gladiator was a fantastic fucking movie and fun as hell to watch, knowing it was about as historically accurate as Stanley Kubrick's 1960 Spartacus doesn't change that it was a really fun movie. (Beyond a bit of initial disappointment maybe at learning the Roman Empire wasn't exactly as sensationally fucked up as portrayed..... at least until you learn all the ways the Roman Empire was actually sensationally fucked up, anyway lol)

You don't need to claim your historical fiction is historically accurate for.... what? Clout? Veracity? Compensating for telling a poor story? No one's going to see cgi lions and tigers twice the size of a man and think "oh surely that's exactly how it must have been", and if they do, then accuracy's not of much concern to your target audience anyway.

ROME didn't even remember their own historical origins by the time they became of any significance among the Classical Mediterranean powers. They'd lost nearly all memory or record, if there was any, of anything before the Bronze Age collapse just like pretty much everyone else. So they took the scattered fragments of recollected lore and made up their own origins. The Roman Empire invented its own fucking history out of myth and legend and baked in all the things that were important to them at the time. That story's about as factually historical as a vampire hunting president, but it tells us more about how Rome saw itself than any list of events possibly could.

Our stories now shape how we see ourselves and our place in a timeline of humanity much more than how we see history or historical accuracy, and making people believe your made-up bullshit is historical is just posturing: useless and nonessential. Who cares? Who are you fooling? The true value of made-up bullshit is that it's supposed to be FUN. Abe Lincoln fighting vampires is FUN. A jousting stadium of 14th century medieval spectators stomping to Queen's We Will Rock You is FUN. Giant tigers and Napoleon being a short sassy bald man with indigestion is FUN. Yeah, it's misleading, but it's even more misleading AND disingenuous to dig your heels in and claim that people who dedicate their lives and passion to the study of something know less about that than you to make yourself look.... smart? Authentic? It doesn't matter.

There's no shame in choosing to make something FUN instead of accurate, but there's a shitload of shame in outright fucking lying about it. What level of respect does Ridley Scott show for his audience with that?

I love made up bullshit for its own entertainment value. I cannot stand someone trying to feed me made up bullshit while trying to tell me it's real. That is literally 99% of my waking life in modern society. Just make your bullshit entertaining and stop trying to convince me the Vikings were filthy bare-chested pelt-wearing barbarians. I'm still gonna watch the hot sweaty shirtless man and badass sword wielding lady show. I grew up on Sam Raimi's Xena and Hercules, ffs. I don't know why we keep trying to bill stuff that's just as ridiculously made up as "historically accurate" when we're basically just reinventing writing Homer's Odyssey or Virgil's Aenead. (Then again, that was basically considered "history" as far as Emperor Augustus was concerned.... so maybe nothing really has changed.)

Ridley Scott, regarding his new Napoleon movie, is being aggressively defensive about its inaccuracies with historians. He's gone on record saying "When I have issues with historians, I ask: ‘Excuse me, mate, were you there? No? Well, shut the fuck up then.’" This is a classic argument of people with no idea how historians do their work, how historical accuracy is determined and evaluated, and - in Ridley Scott's case in particular - how important it is to properly portray historical accuracy in other media.

The reason why Ridley Scott is being so aggressively dismissive of complaints about historical accuracy is due to past beef leading to a problem he likely has.

This is a movie that, by din of being touted as a 'nonfiction' movie about a historical figure, is basing much of its marketing on historical accuracy by default. The trailers show it's not, and reviews by historians say it is riddled with dozens if not hundreds of inaccuracies. Napoleon's portrayal is frankly a surface level depiction and nowhere near the nuance that historians were hoping for.

Scott's defensive about it. He need not be. If he had a historical consultant then he could go "I'm not an expert on the time period, but I have someone who is, ask them about it" and fob them off on his movie's historical consultant. It's a whole Thing. He doesn't have one, however, so he has to defend it personally.

You see, Ridley Scott probably didn't hire a historical consultant for Napoleon. The last time he had one - Kathleen Coleman for Gladiator - she was so upset over the inaccuracies he pushed through and how little her work affected the film, she requested her name be taken off of it.

Why this is important is because so many more people will watch a movie made by Ridley Scott than I or any other person could write. More people will watch Scott's Napoleon in the States than five hundred books about Napoleon combined worldwide.

More people watched Dunkirk than ever read a book about the Evacuation of Dunkirk. The movie Breaker Morant did so much for public perception about the execution of a genuine war criminal people in Australia still on occasion call for a pardon for Morant.

Fundamentally, mass media like movies will always have more impact of a popular perception about somebody, a time period, an event. That's why Ridley Scott making an inaccurate movie and going 'oh, you weren't there, you didn't see it with your own eyes, so how could you know, I don't have to listen to you' is a problem.

[vaguely-concerned]

for what it's worth I personally don't believe spite had anything to do with the pantry near-kiss experience at all. I think that was a 100% lucanis naturel disaster no supernatural additives present or indeed required. at most spite was watching that whole situation go down with mild puzzlement about approximately every part of it, I don't think he'd have much interest in it one way or the other. the explanation seems much more mundane and grounded and in some ways much sadder to me.

if your nervous system has never been in a place where any surge of emotion, even -- in fact sometimes especially! -- a good and exciting one makes you feel like your soul just touched a hot stove it can't get away from, then sincerely, from the bottom of my heart and without a trace of snark, thank goodness and I hope you never experience it. For the rest of you... fistbump of solidarity it's rough out here but *grits teeth* we stay silly etc. In the place lucanis is in during that part of the game, feeling like you're losing control (again even for ostensibly good happy reasons) can feel an awful lot like you're dying, or worse. on top of everything else going on for him -- again going only with non-supernatural elements and not even comprehensive: a year of non-stop horrific trauma added to pile of previous mountain of childhood and attachment trauma. chronic sleep deprivation. apparently dead grandma doubling as mother figure. cousin-brother aggressively fucking around and in real danger of finding out. fucked up the ONE thing he thought he knew how to do that's been the central pillar of his identity. the world might be ending even more than it already was because of it. keeps faceplanting with barely any dignity and having to get up again with alarming regularity GOD how could I ever not save treviso this man desperately needs a W (just one!!) like few people in the history of the world have before him. he's more caffeine than man because the alternative feels worse. it's bad in here. and ON TOP of all that he's in the process of falling just. appallingly soul-shrivingly in love, which can notably be playing on hard mode even when you're in a mostly functional place, that shit routinely rocks people to the core under the best of circumstances.

so I'm not surprised it's too overwhelming for him to handle when he tries to throw himself in head first -- in fact I'd have been more surprised if it weren't lol. he clearly wants it so much, which only makes it so much more painful that he can't actually bear to touch it when it's offered to him freely and eagerly. this is the tantalus-level awfulness of this kind of attachment trauma; food seems to be right there, you can see it, almost smell it sometimes, but no matter what you just can't seem to reach it. seemingly not for any flaw in the existence of the food, but because of something broken in you that can't or can't bear to actually eat. his deliberate flirting routine is kind of deeply dorky tbh lol (in the most endearing way possible let's be perfectly clear) and I don't think it's entirely natural to him -- that's a hastily cobbled together 'oh god I am getting the vibes here it is happening for some reason they like me for my personality quick what would illario do' approach if ever I saw it, supported by the fact that it never really makes a return after this --

BUT I do think his obvious near-unbearable delight with rook's existence and person that shines through in that scene is entirely real and unfeigned. he likes them so much. he wants so bad to be able to be close to them. he's so hungry for the reprieve and release and relief they represent to him, just for one moment, just one break from all the awfulness to have something uncomplicatedly good. and it's here, it's been offered, he's welcome!!! and he has to flinch away at the last minute anyway because he's an exposed nerve of a human being. there's a point at which every sensation including joy becomes indistinguishable from agony. he's pretty much exactly at that point. for the love of god have some mercy on him people. the feeling that salvation is right here but you're too broken a vessel to hold it is one I wouldn't wish on anyone. let him have a few moments to stare into the void before he's ready to get back up and try again surely we all deserve at least that much lol

[aleskie]

A THOUSAND MILES SEEMS PRETTY FAR | Quinn Hughes x Reader

SUMMARY: But they have planes and trains and cars. He'd walk to you if he had no other way. aka long distance with quinn.

Word Count: 1k Warnings: none :D pure fluff. no angst, just love. ♫ Listen: Hey There Delilah by Plain White T's ♫

You and Quinn are on your bi-weekly phonecall, catching up on each other’s lives in the strange new reality of being miles apart. He talks about training and games, his neighbors and their quirky antics, the dishes he's trying to cook, and the restaurants he’s found nearby for when his cooking doesn't go as planned. There’s a lightheartedness in his voice as he tells you about getting recognized by fans, but you can hear the fatigue too, the weight of adjusting to a life where so much feels new and foreign.

“Tell me what it’s like over there,” he says, voice warm and familiar.

“Oh, honey,” you say with a laugh, “It’s been a wild few days.”

You update him on all the latest drama from home, from your mutual friends’ lives to the ridiculous gossip circulating on campus. You tell him about your classes, the endless cramming, and how you’re running on caffeine and pure determination. You mention the phone call you had with his mom, how she keeps you updated on his little brothers, Jack and Luke, and their texts to you asking for advice on how to hide things from their parents. 

Quinn chuckles sleepily, clearly entertained by their schemes. He’s already in bed, his face framed by the soft glow of his bedside lamp, while you’re still at your desk, laptop open, notes scattered around you. It’s late for both of you, and you know you’ll both pay for it with early alarms and sleepy eyes tomorrow, but the call feels worth it, like a lifeline between you. It was hard, you’ll admit, with him being in Vancouver and you still in Michigan, but it was better than not having him at all. 

“God, you look beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep. “Your lamp gives you this warm glow—you look like an angel.”

You laugh. “That’s probably just the homesickness talking. You’re either really sleepy or you just miss me. Or both.”

He stifles a yawn, smiling. “I always miss you,” he says, softer this time, the usual joking edge gone. “I never want to be apart from you.”

“Hey.” You lean closer, resting your chin in your hand as if it’ll somehow bring you closer to him. “Just two more years, Quinny. Then I’ll be right there with you.”

He’s silent for a moment, a question hanging in the space between you. Finally, he asks, “Do you wish I hadn’t left?”

You smile, reaching out to the screen as if you could brush his hair back. “I would never do that to you. This is your dream—you’ve wanted this as long as I’ve known you.”

He shifts in bed, tucking himself deeper into the pillows, watching you with that gaze that always made you feel seen, like you were the only one who mattered. The soft sound of your typing fills the quiet, and he’s content to just watch you, taking in the tiny changes in your expression as you work. In moments like this, he wishes he could teleport, even if just for an hour, just to see you, just to touch you. Being drafted to the NHL is everything he’s worked for, and he’d never give it up, but there’s still a quiet ache whenever he remembers you’re not there.

It isn’t the first time he’s asked if you wanted him to stay, and each time you tell him the same thing. You’d never ask that of him, wouldn’t dream of it. And every time, hearing you say those words—knowing you believe them—it reminds him just how much he loves you. It might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for him. 

“People say we’re crazy for trying to make this work,” he says, his voice softening. “But I don’t think we are. Is that weird?”

You smile, looking at him through the screen, your eyes full of warmth. “Not weird at all, bub. I feel the same way. They can joke all they want, but we know this is real.”

His gaze softens further, your reassurance the steady anchor he didn’t realize he needed. The corners of his mouth tug into a smile, one that’s vulnerable and hopeful all at once.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his words barely more than a whisper, but somehow carrying a lifetime’s worth of promises. “I promise, when you get here, I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you everything you ever wanted.” Even thick with sleep, his eyes hold a fierce certainty, one that leaves no room for doubt. Maybe it was strange to some, betting so much on a relationship that started in university, but he knows, as surely as he’s known anything, that you’re it for him. He can already see it all so clearly—planning a wedding, finding a home, starting a life together. This is it.

“You already take care of me, Quinny,” you say, the affection in your voice unmistakable. “You’re all I need.”

He chuckles, his exhaustion creeping in with a long yawn. “Flatterer,” he teases, even as his eyes droop a little, his smile growing softer with every passing second.

“Might be time to call it a night,” you say gently, tucking your notebooks away and placing your pens back in their case. “Don’t miss me too much, yeah?”

His smile grows sleepy. “Almost summer,” he mumbles, words slow and relaxed. “I’ll have you all to myself then.” There’s a long pause, one filled with unspoken dreams. “I love you,” he finally says, voice laced with sincerity, each word as warm as a goodnight kiss.

“I love you too,” you reply, feeling the words settle in your heart, grounding you. “Goodnight, Quinn. Sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight.” His voice is soft, eyes fluttering as he murmurs, “I’ll dream of you.”

You smile, your voice tender. “And I’ll dream of you. Let’s meet up again there, alright?”

A sleepy grin spreads across his face, a warmth in his gaze that transcends the screen. “Yeah,” he whispers, his voice filled with a quiet certainty, “Let’s do that.”

You both linger for a moment, unwilling to end the call, sharing a silence so comfortable it feels like being wrapped in each other’s arms. His eyes are on you, tired but happy, and yours on him, both of you letting that last connection sink in before sleep pulls you both under.

“See you soon,” you say softly, a quiet promise in your voice.

“See you in dreams, love.”

[apteryxparvus]

AITA for exposing my pro volleyball player boyfriend's monster addiction on r/fridgedetective?

Pairing — Suna Rintarou / Reader

Word count — 2,046

Content warning — none

Summary — When you accidentally expose your boyfriend for hoarding an ungodly amount of Monster energy drinks in his mini fridge, the internet takes it and runs wild.

You don’t think twice when you head to your boyfriend’s mini-fridge. Suna always keeps a stash of snacks and drinks in there for late-night movie marathons, and you’re desperately craving a fizzy hit of Ramune soda. But when you open the fridge…

Monster Energy. 

Monster Energy everywhere.

You don’t even spot the soda you’re looking for. Just rows upon rows of neon cans stacked like Tetris blocks, along with an alarming number of Chuupets squished in the corners. Who needs this much caffeine and sugar?

The fridge hums ominously, as if judging you for your surprise.

Naturally, you take a picture and post it.

For science.

You don’t expect much. Maybe 10 or 20 upvotes, and a couple of comments from bored strangers confirming that, yes, Suna’s energy drink consumption is borderline criminal. After all, it’s just a silly post on a silly subreddit, nothing to lose sleep over.

But when you groggily check your Reddit account the next morning, your notifications are wild. It’s not just a handful of upvotes—it’s thousands. Your post isn’t just trending on r/fridgedetective; it’s made the Reddit front page.

There’s an overwhelming flood of comments, many of them calling out your boyfriend by name. A part of you wants to laugh—because, really, how did they guess so fast?—but another part of you is too scared to even open Twitter or any other social media platform. You just know someone has screenshotted it and blasted it across the internet; probably with a wild caption like: “Suna Rintarou EXPOSED by his own partner”.

The sheer absurdity hits you like a train. Your boyfriend’s unhealthy obsession with energy drinks and frozen treats has gone viral. Your boyfriend has gone viral.

And, at this point, you’re not sure if you should wake him up to warn him, or just quietly pack your things and go into witness protection.

Among the chaos of Reddit notifications, your phone buzzes with a few messages. A quick glance tells you it’s from two very predictable sources.

Kita: Just empty the fridge and restock it with healthy food. He’ll grumble, but it’s for the best.

Atsumu: WOW I CAN’T BELIEVE U TATTLED ON MY BOY LIKE THAT 💀💀💀

You sigh, rubbing your temples. Against your better judgement, you open the Inarizaki High alumni group chat—and immediately regret it.

Atsumu is clearly living for this. You should’ve known better.

He’s on a rampage, flooding the chat with screenshots from Twitter.

"Suna's fridge contents have NO BUSINESS being this cursed."

"Suna Rintarou EXPOSED for his crimes against hydration."

"Monster sponsorship when???"

It’s one caption after another, each one wilder than the last. You groan, burying your face in your pillow, as if that could block out the chaos unfolding on your screen. You can practically hear Atsumu’s wheezy cackles through the text, and his twin brother, Osamu, is doing nothing to help—just spamming the chat with popcorn emojis like he’s front row at the circus.

You sigh, fingers hovering over the keyboard as you prepare to grill Atsumu for being the absolute worst at 7 AM. But before you can type a single word, the bed shifts.

Suna groans softly, stirring beside you. His arm slides over your waist, pulling you closer as he burrows his face into the crook of your neck.

“Mm, what’s with all the buzzing?” he mumbles, his voice heavy with sleep.

“Nothing,” you lie, way too quickly, throwing your phone across the bed like it’s radioactive. You lean in to press a kiss to his forehead. “Don’t worry, just go back to sleep.”

It almost works. Almost. But your phone keeps vibrating obnoxiously—no doubt Atsumu is still spamming the group chat with screenshots and whatever unhinged commentary he’s decided to add. You curse yourself for not muting him earlier, but now it’s far too late.

Suna groans again, this time with the exasperation of someone who just wants five more minutes of peace. He shifts, reaching for the phone you so desperately tried to avoid.

“Why’s Atsumu spamming the group chat so early?” he asks groggily, his thumb already swiping across the screen.

“No reason!” you blurt out, sitting up too quickly. “You don’t need to check—”

But it’s too late. The moment Suna opens the chat, his expression shifts. His sleepy indifference hardens into something sharper. 

Betrayal.

Two days later, you’re settled into your couch, blanket wrapped snug around your shoulders, laptop propped up on your knees. Kodzuken’s stream is set to start in fifteen minutes, and if you’re going to survive whatever chaos the streamer’s chat is inevitably bound to bring, you’re going to need a heavy caffeine boost.

Your eyes slowly drift to the mini fridge in the corner.

You’ve been trying to avoid it ever since the whole incident. But you cannot deny the itch for something cold and fizzy to keep you awake. There’s a moment of hesitation as you chew on your lip, before you finally stand up and pad over.

“Okay… alright,” you mumble to yourself, hand hovering over the handle. “It’s just a fridge. How bad can it be?”

You pull it open.

And the sight nearly makes you drop to your knees.

Gone is the chaotic hoard of neon green Monster Energy cans and suspicious, almost-melted chuupets. Instead, the shelves are pristine, almost squeaky white, gleaming as if the fridge belongs to some sort of soda commercial. And every single slot has been replaced with your favorite soda flavor.

Each glass bottle has a sticky note attached to it, the handwriting unmistakably Suna’s—slightly tilted to the right and a little lazy, like he couldn’t quite be bothered but also cared just enough.

The first note you pick you reads: “I’m doing this for you, even though it hurts 💔💔.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you pick up another bottle, the condensation slick against your palm. This note reads: “Please don’t post me online again 😔💔.”

A third one in the far back reads: “I hope you’re happy. My dignity is in shambles.”

You choke back a laugh, clutching the bottle to your chest like it’s some sort of love letter.

Everything is just absurd. Dramatic. Completely unnecessary.

But so him.

Kenma’s notification pings from your laptop, reminding you his stream is starting soon. But for a moment, you just stand there, bathed in the soft glow of the fridge light, staring at the ridiculous display of Ramune bottles and heartfelt stickies.

Dinner is a quiet affair, save for the occasional clink of chopsticks against bowls and the soft fizz that Suna’s Ramune soda makes as he takes a long, dramatic sip. You can’t help but glance at him as your phone buzzes with another notification from the group chat.

The #monstersmvp hashtag Atsumu created is still going strong.

You unlock your phone, and cover your mouth trying to stifle a laugh—Atsumu’s latest spamming spree is a trainwreck you cannot look away from.

“What now?” Suna asks, voice flat as he picks at his food.

“‘tsumu keeps sending the eulogies from the hashtag. Ready to hear the best of the best?”

 “No,” your boyfriend deadpans, taking another slow, deliberate sip of the fizzy drink.

Ignoring him, you start reading anyway. “Okay, here goes,” you clear your throat, holding the phone up dramatically. “Rest in power: Gone but never forgotten. Suna’s energy drink hoard was a beacon of poor nutritional choices and excessive caffeine addiction. Taken from us far too soon by the merciless hand of justice (a.k.a. his girlfriend). May its legacy live on in vending machines and gas station coolers everywhere.”

Suna rolls his eyes, but you can see the corners of his mouth subtly twitching, like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Wait, wait,” you say, scrolling further. “It wasn’t Suna’s blocks that made him a true legend. No, it was his fridge full of Monsters. The stash stood as a tall, proud monument to his dedication to caffeine and chaos, but alas, all good things must come to an end. In lieu of flowers, please send Ramune soda.”

He takes another slow sip of his soda, gaze fixed on you over the rim of the bottle. “These people are unhinged.”

“You mean your fans are unhinged,” you correct, waving your phone at him. “You brought this on yourself, you know.”

He sets the bottle down, resting his chin in his hand as he smirks at you, that lazy, infuriating smirk that makes your heart skip a beat even when you’re annoyed with him. “You’re awfully invested in this for someone who caused the whole mess.”

“Excuse me, you’re the one who kept a hoard of energy drinks like some kind of cryptid!”

“And you’re the one who made it go viral.”

Suna shakes his head, clicking his chopsticks. “If I ever get my stash back, I’m putting a padlock on that fridge.”

“Sure,” you tease, scrolling through the wall of text messages. “But you’ll have to bribe me first.”

The morning after starts with the doorbell buzzing like it’s got a personal grudge against your sleep. You groan, burrowing deeper into the blankets as Suna mumbles incoherently beside you.

“Are you gonna get that?” you ask, voice muffled by the pillow.

“Nope,” he replies, eyes still closed.

The buzzing continues, persistent and annoying, until you finally throw the blankets off with a groan. “Fine, I’ll do it. But if it’s Atsumu, I’m kicking him.”

Shuffling to the door in your pajamas, you swing it open, ready to give whoever it is a piece of your mind. Instead, you’re greeted by two delivery people dressed in head-to-toe Monster Energy attire. Hats, shirts, gloves—even their shoes have the Monster logo.

“Delivery for Suna Rintarou?” one of them says, all too chipper for this ungodly hour.

Behind them is a massive, industrial-sized fridge wrapped in black and neon green, the Monster Energy logo glowing ominously on the front.

You blink. “You’re joking.”

“We’re not,” the other delivery person says, already wheeling the monstrosity closer.

You stand frozen as they maneuver the fridge through the door, parking it in the middle of your living room like it belongs there. By the time Suna wanders out from your bedroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the delivery people are gone, and the fridge looms like some sort of otherworldly deity.

“What the hell is that?” he asks, voice rough with sleep.

“Your consequences, clearly,” you grumble.

“You think it comes pre-stocked?”

You stay quiet, keeping your distance from the fridge as if your glare alone might short-circuit the thing. If you got too close, you’d be tempted to whack it with something—like the baseball bat you keep by the door in case of emergencies.

Suna, unbothered by your lack of answer, wanders closer, hand lazily brushing against the neon logo before gripping the handle. He looks back at you with a smirk.

The door creaks open.

Even though the fridge isn’t even on, it’s packed to the brim with dozens upon dozens of Monster cans. Shelves sag under the weight of every imaginable flavor—there are classics, tropical blends, tea-infused hybrids, even some cans with foreign text that scream exclusive import.

“How is this fridge even stocked? It’s not on.” You can’t hold back the groan. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Look at this,” Suna says, picking up a can with a holographic label. He holds it up like it’s some kind of treasure. “I didn’t even know this flavor existed.”

“Put it back,” you say, your voice sharp. “I’m gonna set it on fire, I swear."

He doesn’t listen. Instead, he grabs another can, then another. “They’ve got the white pineapple, the tea blend... oh, and the zero-calorie peach! This is insane.”

“I’m gonna lose my mind.” You bury your face in your hands, trying to process the sheer audacity of the situation. “Who does this?!”

“There, there,” Suna teases, patting your back. “Want a sip?” he asks, cracking open a random can.

You glare at him, contemplating the consequences of slamming the door shut on both the cans and his smug face. Instead, you stomp to the couch, plopping down, and muttering, “I’m calling ‘tsumu. This has his name written all over it.”

Suna’s laughter echoes through the living room, followed by the distinct hiss of him opening yet another can.

Author's note: phew, editing the Reddit posts took ages 🤧 please ignore any discrepancies between the profile pictures of the users pls

i’ll marry whoever buys me a fully stocked redbull fridge, no questions asked

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.42

Summary: While Wednesday is busy worrying about you, an unwelcome guests shows their face at the Addams Mansion. Wednesday is starting to wish you would lose your morals again.

Word Count: 7.6k Warnings: swearing, mentioned child abuse, racism against Outcasts, smut at the end (18+) Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (Masterlist)

The Addams Mansion was louder than usual with its new guests. Much to her surprise, Wednesday almost found it comforting. If you had asked her even just two years ago if she would have enjoyed the newfound sounds in the mansion, she would have thought the notion preposterous. Absurd even. Of course she wouldn’t have enjoyed the sounds, the mansion was her home. It was a sacred place that should be left untouched.

However, with your family around… at least they treated the old home as it deserved.

Even the youngest were respectful of the knick-knacks and artefacts around the mansion. They had only needed to be told once, and everything settled again. Sure, they would point out the ones they liked, but their hands stayed far away. Rooms that were off-limits to guests remained closed, and everyone was respectful of the… unusual habits of the Addams family.

The only one that remained unusual was you.

If Wednesday was being honest with herself, she was rather concerned about you. She hadn’t heard you say much after that night. By all accounts, you were more similar to Lurch in your communication; doing little more than grunting in acknowledgement of whatever was being said. You hadn’t even talked to Weems, who had shown up not even a day after the event to check on everyone. It was rather disturbing. And not in a good way.

At least there was an upside to the whole situation. Grandmama Addams had healed your arm with little more than a light scar over the skin. It was clearly a burn; that was impossible to erase. But there had been no need to go into a medical centre like the original EMT had mentioned. An Addams knew tricks no normie could comprehend.

There was nothing comfortable about talking about feelings, Wednesday knew all about that. She had trouble talking about her own, and you certainly felt the same. It didn’t take a genius to know that. But she wished you would talk with her. Share your thoughts, what you were feeling at the moment. Or at the very least what you were thinking for the past few weeks, seeing as you still had yet to tell her how you had known the house was going to catch fire.

“Would you pass the sugar, dear?” Mother asked you.

You grumbled and nodded once before pushing it over with your scarred hand. It was a stiff movement, and your brows moved ever so slightly at the effort. So, Wednesday thought, you weren’t entirely healed. You made no other indication of your discomfort and turned the page of your book.

“Daniel seemed quite interested in the atrium,” Mother continued. You hummed for her to continue. “He’s asked numerous times about specific plants.”

You still said nothing in return.

Mother looked at Wednesday over the lip of her teacup. If you wouldn’t even answer her small talk, how would they ever get you to speak? Even if you were having a small spat with Wednesday, you would always talk with Mother. Yet now, she was talking of your brother, and you wouldn’t even answer? It was borderline rude.

You were never rude to Mother.

“There you all are,” Weems said as she entered the reading room. “Everyone was a bit too quiet.”

“You’re welcome to join us,” Mother said with a smile.

She did just that. Even you looked up from your book for just long enough to watch Weems sit down with her own cup of tea. It seemed everyone was indulging in caffeine. Everyone except for you, that was. You had opted for nothing more than a glass of water that sat untouched on the small side table.

Everyone resumed their activities; Mother and Weems were talking, and you were reading. Wednesday had her own book in her lap, but the words eluded her. How could she focus on a book when she was so concerned about you? How could you focus on your book? Were you not going absolutely mad?

She needed you to be okay. There was very little she could do to help, but she needed you to be okay. Perhaps you wouldn’t talk with her, but that wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it? No, she could survive you not talking about your worries with her, as long as you allowed her to attempt to help.

A word of advice from Yoko appeared in her head. She looked over at you and watched you for a moment. There was very little emotion on your face, but she noticed you blinking a little longer than normal every time your burned hand turned the page.

She gave herself no time to doubt herself before reaching over and grabbing your good hand. It stiffened, but when she linked her fingers with yours, you quickly relaxed. Before she looked back down at her book, she noticed the slightest pull at the corner of your mouth.

Good. That was progress.

Wednesday was acutely aware of Mother and Weems’ hesitation before continuing their conversation. It gave her an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach to know they were watching you both. Showing outward displays of affection was becoming less agonising, but there was something unsettling about knowing her mother and your mother figure were watching.

The prickling spiders were starting to crawl across her skin when something knocked on the front door. You didn’t look up, but Mother and Weems shared a look before Weems stood up from her chair.

“Shall I?” She asked even though she had already started walking toward the front door.

“Thank you,” Mother said with a small smile.

No one else paid any attention to what was happening. Everyone simply went back to what they were doing. What would it matter anyway? You were all aware that people only came to the Addams Mansion either based on a dare or had been invited.

“I don’t believe it’s wise for you to be here.”

Your attention was captured by Weems’ words. Wednesday would admit hers were too. There was a certain tone to the words, something that she didn’t think she had heard before. No, that wasn’t true, she had heard that warning tone before.

At Nevermore immediately after Nicky had died.

Wednesday’s mind was running rampant when you pulled your hand away from hers. There was almost no time for her to grab it again before you stood up. Mother sent a concerned look her way. It was a lucky thing Wednesday hadn’t had any tea, or she would have spilled it when she stood up.

Your body stiffened when you looked out the front door.

“I was hoping you would be here.”

That voice sent a shiver down every inch of Wednesday’s skin. By the slight shake in your hand, you felt the same. The closer she got, the more nervous she was. It was a complicated feeling for her. Very few things, and even fewer people, made her feel that way. She didn’t like it.

There was something comparable between your mother and hers. They both held themselves with confidence; something that you appeared to lack until you were in your mother’s presence again. However, there was a rather large difference between the two women.

Your mother always looked like she was out for blood.

“I was hoping to talk with you about something,” your mother said directly to you.

“I don’t believe that would-”

“-Alone,” she interrupted Weems with a venomous smile.

Very few people spoke to Weems in such a way, apparent by the way everyone stiffened at the harshness of the word. But that very reality was what seemed to get you out of whatever stupor you had drowned in. Behind you, your wings puffed up enough to make themselves known as you looked at Weems.

“I’ve got it,” you said in a soft yet confident voice. It was certainly a surprise to Wednesday, who had assumed you would sound weak after a large amount of silence.

Weems looked at you for another moment more. “Morticia and I will be in the study,” she finally said.

“As I said,” your mother said with the same sickening smile, “this is private.”

“Anything involving me involves Wednesday,” you said.

You and your mother stared at each other silently, and Wednesday felt like she was intruding on something. There was a history with you two that she knew very little about, but she knew enough. To stand there, watching your silent battle with nothing to say, was torture.

“Of course it does,” your mother finally said. She looked inside the mansion for a moment. “Won’t you be a dear and invite me in?”

“No.” You straightened back up and crossed your arms over your chest. “Say your piece and leave.”

Your mother opened her mouth to argue - she had stunning teeth, Wednesday noted - but quickly closed it once seeing the look on your face. Or rather, the lack of a look. Fear was the predominant look in your eyes when your parents were involved, but this? There was no reaction. You simply existed in her presence.

It was a wonderful look on you.

“Very well,” your mother finally said with a sigh. “I would like you to attend an event with me this weekend.”

“No,” you said quickly.

Your mother stood tall. “You will hear me out, Y/N.”

Fear flashed behind your eyes at the use of your full name.

“It’s a charity gala,” she continued. “For those with your…” she gestured vaguely between both you and Wednesday, “affliction.”

“We’re Outcasts,” you said, “not lepers.”

“Semantics, dear,” she said with a dismissive wave.

At that, you reached out and grabbed Wednesday’s hand. Hard. An ache spread through the bones of her hand as they were squeezed together unnaturally. The skin on your hand was tough, feeling closer to leather than skin. Truly a fascinating thing.

She squeezed your hand back to the best of her ability.

“After all the shit you’ve done, you want me to go with you to a gala?” You asked. “Just to make you look good?”

There was a red tint to your cheeks. Wednesday could hear all the words you weren’t saying. You killed my brother. You had me arrested. You abandoned me. Though she didn’t wish for a fight, she did wish for you to finally speak your mind. Let her know the hurt she had caused you all these years.

You didn’t continue.

“Your father is away, so you wouldn’t have to concern yourself with the restraining order,” your mother continued as if you were being nothing more than a petulant child.

“You’re not listening,” you said. “I’m not going.”

The tone underlying your words was all Wednesday needed to hear to know your next move. Your grip had loosened enough to ease the ache in her hand, but it stayed firm. Though she wouldn’t blame you, she knew you were done with the conversation. Nothing good could come from continuing to talk with your mother.

You turned around and started to pull Wednesday along with you.

“I heard about the fire,” your mother called after you.

You froze.

“Entire house burned to ash,” she continued. “A shame.” Your chest was heaving. “No longer having a home to call their own.”

The warmth of your hand in hers quickly disappeared as you turned on your heel. Wednesday’s feet stayed rooted to the spot even as she watched you walk up to your mother and stand over her. For the first time, she realised you were a decent amount taller than your mother. You could properly look down on her as she had no doubt you always wished you could.

In the background, the children could be heard playing in an unknown room.

“Don’t pretend you care,” you said quietly. Harshly.

“Oh darling,” your mother said with a smile that didn’t match her tone, “I couldn’t care less.”

“Then don’t talk about them.”

“I just assumed, perhaps wrongfully, that you would wish for them to have a home again,” she continued. The look in her eye was similar to yours. “A gift, if you will.”

You looked down at your mother silently. Oh, how Wednesday wished she could see the look on your face. She so very much adored when you were angry. There was a fire behind your eyes that lit something within her.

Then she started to think about the implications of your mother’s words. Would you allow her to offer such a thing? The reminder of your debt would follow you for the rest of your life. After all, you were still feeling indebted to her parents for the pendant you constantly wore around your neck. But with a home? She couldn’t even imagine the feelings it would invoke within you.

“Shall I continue?” Your mother asked.

You hesitated. Then gave a single, slow nod.

“If you accompany me to the gala, we will pay for the restoration of your little,” she hesitated, “family.” There was almost a sneer on her face, if Wednesday was reading her correctly.

“Are you blackmailing me?” You asked.

“Oh dear,” she laughed, “I’m not that dense.” Your jaw clenched. “It’s an incentive. A rather generous one.”

Your mother then stayed silent. A tactic, no doubt. It would give you time to consider her offer. Even Wednesday would admit it was a tempting offer. She and her parents had offered your family the same thing knowing they didn’t have the means to rebuild quickly on their own. It had been a quick rejection.

When it came to your mother, however…

“You’ll pay for the entirety of a new house,” you confirmed.

Your mother nodded in response. “Large enough for them all, in fact.”

“With the barn and stables.”

“Of course.”

“And nothing will ever need to be repaid?”

“It will be an act of charity.”

“And I can get that in writing?” You asked.

Oh. Oh, Wednesday could see the gears turning in your head. Once again, as she so often found herself doing, she thought back to those years she had believed you to be daft. Oblivious would perhaps have been the better word for it. Acting as if you were unaware of everything going on around you. On the rare occasion, even going so far as to act unaware of even the most basic aspects of life.

She used to believe you. After all, you were rather adept at playing off your intelligence. If she hadn’t been so tragically enamoured with you, life would have become far different than it currently was. She wouldn’t have had the pleasure of calling you hers. 

However, she knew better. She could see the ideas forming behind your eyes. No, they weren’t simply ideas, they were full-fledged plans. Wednesday desperately wished to have the ability to read your mind. What plan were you meticulously concocting?

“You may have it in writing,” your mother finally said. “I’ll draft it when I get home.”

“Oh no,” you said quickly, “I wouldn’t wish to trouble you.”

Finally, for the first time since your mother had appeared at the front door, you turned and looked at Wednesday. There was a fire in your eyes reminiscent of the burning house she had been forced to watch you run into. It was thrilling.

It was terrifying.

“Would you call Señor Moreno?” You asked with a smile that made you look just like your mother. “Mrs. Smith would like to draft an agreement.”

—---

Your discomfort was clear, but Wednesday rather enjoyed you in your current state. There had been few times she had seen you dressed well, fewer times since it had been a happy occasion. This was neither happy nor unhappy, so she took it as a positive. You looked rather stunning, aside from your wings resting uncomfortably underneath your clothes.

Not for the first time, her chest ached when you removed your hand from hers.

Listening to your mother fill you in on who was who was not on Wednesday’s to-do list. No, she didn’t truly care who these people were. What she truly cared about was the feel of your warmth beside her, enveloping her in something she had learned to crave. Something she could only receive from you.

“Come on,” you said softly, far closer than Wednesday had believed. It was unsettling.

She loved when you were unsettling.

With her arm looped through yours, she walked with you around the overly crowded room. A ballroom of sorts, she supposed, not too unlike the one in her own house. The difference was this one was bright and filled with straight-laced professionals. Her house was more often than not filled with criminals and unsightly characters for miles to come.

This was a far more concerning environment.

Every beat of Wednesday’s heart grew stronger the longer she watched you in what would have been your natural habitat. Try as you might to deny it, you were rather skilled at talking up those that could owe you favours. For example, the senator’s wife. Though Wednesday despised it, you had her laughing and getting closer the entire conversation.

You were lucky Wednesday had promised to behave.

She was lucky you had promised to behave.

The longer she stayed by your side throughout the evening, the more she realised there was a side to you she rarely if ever got to see. The part of you that could be serious and prepared for business. It was fascinating to watch your expressions and tone match whoever you were talking with. Almost like a mimic, if she had to put a word to it.

Sometimes, if your mother was around, she noticed the most subtle accent to your words. You sounded just like her.

She would never tell you.

“This is Wednesday Addams.”

Your voice pulled Wednesday back into the moment. There was a man in front of you both that she didn’t care to know. With his horrific toupee and pathetic mustache, she mentally placed him as a wannabe politician. His black tuxedo was slightly dishevelled around the collar, and his buttons were off by one. How peculiar.

“Addams, you say?” He asked with a voice that betrayed him more than the pipe hanging out of his mouth. “I believe I know of your father.”

“How so?” She asked even though she had no interest in hearing his answer.

“We met at a ball many years ago, if my recollection is correct,” he said. A puff of smoke left his mouth. “He’s doing well, I presume?”

“Quite,” she said shortly. Perhaps if she made it clear she wasn’t interested in small talk, he would leave her be.

No such luck.

“Perhaps he would appreciate an invitation to our next ball,” the man said. “He can get proper connections in place for when you take over.”

Your hand on the small of Wednesday’s back twitched. Nothing serious, a minuscule movement. It was enough. Out of the corner of your eye, she saw the slight frown on your face. Nothing overtly noticeable. Not that it would have mattered, the man you were both talking to couldn’t be bothered enough to notice the change.

“The Addamses are old money,” you chimed in, “there’s no need to take over.”

“Of course, of course,” he mumbled. A puff of smoke escaped from between his lips. “In that case, you must take that advice,” he said as he gestured toward you with his head. “You’ll need the good graces.”

Your hand twitched again.

“I’m not sure I understand,” you said with a slight tilt of your head.

“When you take over your father’s company,” he explained. Your nails dug into Wednesday’s back. “After dear Nicholas passed - rest his soul - you became the beneficiary of the company.” He chuckled. “Perhaps they were keeping it a surprise until you came of proper age.” A wink. “Don’t let them know I told you.”

You pulled your hand away from her back. Quickly. You could not have made it any more obvious that you were deliberately putting space between yourself and everyone else. If you could have turned and ran, Wednesday was convinced you would have.

She couldn’t begin to imagine the things running through your mind. Not only had he mentioned Nicky - which she had learned would always be a sore spot no matter how much time had passed - but he had also told you something you undoubtedly had never wished to know. You looked like you had grabbed an electric wire and hadn’t let go.

“Are you alright?” The man asked in a tone that indicated he couldn’t have cared less what your answer was. Wednesday could appreciate the indifference.

“Quite,” you said quickly. “Just thinking.”

“Ah, of course, I could tell,” he said with a nod, “I’ve seen that face before.” Another puff of his pipe. “You look just like your father.”

That.

That was the final straw.

Wednesday could practically hear your sanity break at that simple sentence. Any semblance of control you had maintained throughout the evening vanished. Before, you had acted like you had been shot by the words. You would close off, become solemn in the wake of the conversation. Being told those words almost hurt you more than losing your brother.

But not this time. No, now you were furious. If you clenched your jaw any tighter, Wednesday was convinced the bones would have shattered. Her eyes fell to your hands before you managed to shove them into your pockets. They were balled into fists.

She wondered if it pained your superficially healed burns.

“I believe I need a drink,” you choked out. “If you’ll excuse me.” You didn’t wait for an answer before walking off where Wednesday could no longer see you.

She was mortified.

How dare you leave her with people that, not only did she not know, but she didn’t care about? She had only agreed to accompany you because it would be a sleight against your mother. Not once had she agreed to be left alone with these people. Did you not know that she was not going to be good for your image? If anything, she would damage it more than it already was.

“I hope our dear Y/N is alright.”

She knew better. Wednesday really, truly knew better. But she couldn’t help herself. With a small exhale, she turned to face your mother. A polite smile was on her face and she looked rather nice, if Wednesday wished to say something positive about the woman. Not that she deserved it, but that wasn’t necessarily important.

You had her nose.

“Oh she’s splendid,” the man said, “just stewing on some thoughts. Right, Miss Addams?” He winked at Wednesday.

She felt the rare twinge of disgust in her stomach.

“I presumed,” your mother said. “Would you mind if I stole Miss Addams from you?”

“Not at all,” he said. He bowed his head, let out a puff of smoke, and turned around to start a conversation with whatever unlucky soul happened to be nearest him.

“Walk with me,” your mother commanded.

Silence was Wednesday’s best friend as she followed the older woman. She would admit, she had never believed she would find herself in this situation. Walking side by side with your mother - not the woman who raised you, but who brought you to life. It had seemed like a far-fetched dream, if not a full-blown nightmare.

She was ashamed to admit that she was… uncertain of how to act.

“You’re a rather brave young thing,” your mother said as she continued to meander through the party, waving to people when she saw fit. “Has our darling Y/N ever told you that?”

“I’m aware of my own strengths,” Wednesday answered. She reconsidered for a moment. “Yes she has.”

“Then we raised her properly.”

Wednesday opted to stay silent. It had only been a few moments of conversation, but she could fully understand why you felt a certain way about your parents. Was she aware of the ridiculous things she was saying? Did she truly believe that they had raised you? A foolish notion at best.

It was beyond clear that your true family had raised you. If she extended the definition of the word, Weems had even raised you more than the woman she was walking beside. You even called Weems a mother, which was evidence enough. Wednesday wasn’t one to get overly emotional, but she knew the difference between what your family had done to raise you and what your mother had done. The difference was glaringly obvious.

While you hadn’t told Wednesday much about your upbringing, she knew enough. Your mother had never been there when you cried. She hadn’t helped you with your homework, or encouraged your hobbies. It would be of no surprise to anyone if she didn’t know of your passion for climbing or boxing. She had left you to cope alone after not only a crippling car accident, but the figurative and, eventually literal, loss of your brother.

No, they hadn’t raised you, and even someone as emotionally stunted as Wednesday was painfully aware of it.

“I’m sure she’s told you rather horrid things about Marcus and myself,” your mother said, coaxing Wednesday out of her thoughts. “But everything we did was for her own good.”

Wednesday understood the anger you harboured for them. She herself was feeling that same anger well up within her chest. Not quite threatening to burst forward, but making itself known. Subtle, creeping into her veins slowly, like waves gently breaking on the shore. All it would take was one wrong move and those waves would turn violent.

“I believe you truly think so,” was all she said.

“Everyone she loves gets hurt,” your mother said. She stopped in her tracks and turned slowly to face Wednesday. “Or dies.”

“That’s improbable at best,” she said.

“You’d be wise to leave before you fall victim to that curse of hers.”

Something cold and damp settled into the bottom of Wednesday’s heart. It was… difficult to describe. Was your mother warning her, or threatening? She was unsure. The words themself were threatening, but her tone… she hadn’t prepared to hear that tone from such a woman. Not after what she had come to know about her.

“Not everything you hear can be taken as truth, love,” your mother said softly, far too soft for her own words. She was ignoring Wednesday’s silence. Or simply not caring.  “From what I’ve read about you, you know that painfully well.”

Wednesday turned to silence once again. She had nothing to say, which was a rather unusual experience. So far, she couldn’t properly think of a time she had been left without words. Or, quite frankly, even any thoughts. Skepticism was her friend, and your mother would not break her of such habits.

“There’s two sides to every story,” your mother continued. She looked out toward the crowd of people, and Wednesday followed suit. “This curse prevailed long before Nicholas.”

You had never told Wednesday of any incidents before Nicky. Though, if your mother knew about it, then perhaps you didn’t remember. Or you weren’t even aware in the first place. It indicated something that she wasn’t quite sure how to feel about.

Something that mixed together with everything she had seen as of late.

“We should get together one evening,” your mother said as she looked back at Wednesday. “Doubtless you have questions.”

She did. As much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, she had numerous questions that continued to pile up with each second that ticked by. With how much your mother hated Outcasts, was her implication of a curse figurative or literal? If literal, were you truly cursed? Who had done it? At the very least, who had been injured or killed when you were too young to even remember?

Would you hate her if she agreed? There had been a few times you had mentioned, in passing of course, about regretting knowing little about your childhood. Whether from young age or potential trauma, you remembered less than you liked. If she had a chance to find those things out for you, would you be appreciative? Or would you be upset with her for talking with your mother so casually?

Would you hate her?

Her mind was running through every scenario possible. She wanted to tell your mother something; of what, she wasn’t quite sure. Wednesday’s lips parted in an effort to buy herself some more time when someone’s arm brushed against her shoulder. Just the lightest of touches, otherwise unnoticeable. It had been quite a while since she had last felt that electric shock spiderwebbing across her skin.

This was different.

Fire raced through her veins, creating an inferno in her chest that she desperately wished to smother. She could taste the smoke rising up from her lungs, scorching the back of her throat before settling into little more than a tickle. When her eyes opened, she saw vague shapes of the forest.

She was getting rather tired of the forest.

The birds were silent, and even the bugs had ceased to make their high-pitched calls. It was as silent as the grave. After witnessing the fire, this very setting rested heavy in her stomach. The only saving grace was the two familiar figures she saw standing underneath one of the outlines of a tree.

When they turned to face her, all comfort fled. Their faces were nothing less than mangled. Blood fell freely down their chins to the already-soaked dirt below their feet. Wednesday wanted to cry, to scream, to warn them of the creature looming behind them, but she couldn’t. She was silent.

Just like you on that fated night.

She blinked once. When her eyes opened again, the forest was gone, instead replaced by a house that she could recognise even from her single visit. Wednesday had never been downstairs in your parents house, instead only exploring a few rooms upstairs when she came with you, but she recognised the tile. The entire building smelled like you, in some odd way.

The dining table was huge, accentuated by the measly five plates that sat around the perimeter of the stunning wood. Only five. Two seats were empty, and two more were filled with sights that Wednesday didn’t think she could have imagined even in her most demented nightmares. In the fifth seat, Wednesday saw the near-perfect reflection of herself.

She had never imagined what her corpse would look like.

“I said don’t touch her.”

Your voice. That was your voice, which meant she was out of her vision. Her throat ached like she had been screaming for years. There was a dull throbbing ache in her stomach where one of the wounds on her corpse had been. But your arms were around her, holding her close.

The ache would subside.

“It might be wise to seek medical attention,” your mother said.

“This happened while she was with you,” you practically spat. Wednesday still hadn’t opened her eyes, but she could imagine the fury on your face. “I can be forgiven for not taking your advice.”

“I’d advise you not to make a scene, dear.”

Your mother’s tone left Wednesday feeling cold. Her own mother had never talked to her in such a way, even out of fear. It wasn’t a way a parent should ever talk to their child. Yet, your mother did it shamelessly in front of an entire crowd of people that had no doubt found their way around the three of you.

Her eyes opened quickly. Far too quickly, the lights from the room hammered nails into her brain. But all the pain and discomfort faded away when she met your soft eyes looking down at her in concern. You were rather beautiful, and just the thought brought a smile to her lips.

A smile?

Perhaps she had hit her head on the way down.

“Can you stand?” You asked softly.

Wednesday nodded once.

You kept your hands on her as you helped her to her feet. The floor felt a bit uneven at first, but with your arm wrapped securely around her waist, she felt no concern. Her trust in you was unwavering. You wouldn’t let her fall.

“You should take her somewhere quiet,” your mother said, against everyone’s better judgement. “It will help.”

You shot her a look, but otherwise stayed silent as you guided Wednesday through the crowd. Everyone parted, looking away in some form of almost-shame. They didn’t truly care. Elites cared for little outside of their own interests. And at that moment, getting the gossip firsthand was in their best interest.

There was no telling where exactly you were taking her. She didn’t care to know. If you were taking her somewhere, it would be safe. You had never intentionally led her into harm, and she knew you never would. You cared too much, and though it often got you in trouble, she loved it about you.

…

She had definitely hit her head.

When you opened the door and led her inside the darkened room, she didn’t initially check her surroundings. Wednesday was no fool, she would know if something was unsafe. But when you flipped the switch and illuminated the space, she was overcome with… confusion.

“The coat closet?” She asked, turning quickly to face you.

You were already pacing back and forth in the small - well, small for a room, rather large for a coat closet - space. Each step was harsh, purposeful. Behind you, your hands were clasped terribly tight, as if you were trying to prevent yourself from doing something foolish.

Perhaps you were.

“Did she hurt you?” You asked without looking.

“No,” Wednesday said softly.

You scoffed. “Probably the only thing she didn’t do.” The carpet was becoming worn into a path from your feet. “We never should’ve come to this stupid party.”

There were a few things Wednesday could have said, but she remained silent. It wasn’t often you would find yourself pacing, let alone in a closet. On those rare occasions, she had learned it best to stay quiet. Once you had gotten your thoughts and emotions out, you were lighter and could move on.

“I can’t do this,” you continued without prompting. “I don’t want to do this.” A turn on your heels. “I didn’t even want their name, let alone their fucking company.” The muscles in your arms tensed. “And apparently everyone is preparing for it. What happens when they find out I’m a fucking Outcast?” You readjusted your jaw. “He told me we shouldn’t have come.”

Wednesday perked up.

“Who told you?”

There was no sudden freeze of your movements, as was usual. No, your pace slowed until coming to a graceful stop. Each breath you took was calculated, steady. Strange. She had seen enough of your panics to know this was different. Wrong somehow.

“No one,” you said without looking at her. “Just… just a thought.” You turned slowly. “The voice in my head.”

“Your conscience?” She clarified.

You didn’t answer.

Wednesday didn’t like when you didn’t answer her. It left a gross feeling she couldn’t quite describe. The best description she could conjure was mud sitting at the bottom of her stomach, weighing her down. She didn’t like the feeling. It made her… well, almost sad.

It was possible you noticed her discomfort because, almost instantly, you walked over to where she was standing. Her entire body relaxed - for the first time that night - when your hands cupped her cheeks. There was something pleasant about your touch that never failed to ease any negative feelings trapped within her.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked in a far softer voice. It was gentle and comforting.

She placed her hands on top of yours and nodded once.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” you continued. “We should’ve just had a nice night at home.”

Wednesday didn’t disagree. There were many more things she would have preferred to do than come to some gala that no one seemed to care about. You had come under the premise of a gala for Outcasts, but she felt it was a farce. None of those people cared about Outcasts, and they never would. It would have been a much better use of both of your time to do something else, something far more enjoyable.

An idea formed in her mind and she quickly looked up to meet your eyes.

“We can still have a nice night,” she said slowly.

“Wednesday,” you said with a tilt of your head. “You fainted and I’m plotting the death of my mother. You’d have to come up with something pretty… uh…”

Your voice trailed off once she guided your hands down her neck. There was almost a humorous joy to the way you went slack jawed at any indication of activities less than professional. And when she continued, fighting a shiver as your fingers brushed the side of her clothed breasts, you stared with wide eyes until your hands rested on her waist.

“Wednesday,” you whispered. Her name always slid off your tongue with a certain grace that she couldn’t find anywhere else.

“You need a distraction,” she said, “as do I.”

“Please don’t feel like you have to-”

“-I would like to,” she said quickly. 

She knew where your mind was going and, in any other situation, she would have agreed. You had both agreed long ago that this wasn’t something frivolous; it meant far too much to the both of you. It shouldn’t be used for inappropriate reasons and, under normal circumstances, this would be an inappropriate reason.

Even though it was surprising to her as well, she genuinely wanted this.

“We’re in a coat closet,” you said with a slight squeeze of your hands. It felt nice.

“I don’t believe it would be our most unusual interaction,” she said with the slightest tilt of her head.

You bit back a laugh. It was a beautiful sound. “Please don’t call it an interaction, it sounds… dirty.”

She felt herself moving backwards. Whether you were guiding her or she was leading, she couldn’t tell. All she could focus on was your fingers rubbing light circles on her hips and your face getting closer to hers. If she simply leaned up on her toes, she could kiss you.

“I can call it intercourse instead,” she offered.

The both of you stopped when her back pressed against the wall.

“I think that’s worse,” you said, your breath fanning across her lips.

She waited for the question.

“Can I kiss you?”

A rhetorical question at that point, you knew the answer. You had always known the answer. Wednesday reached forward to wrap her arms around your neck and pulled you down into a kiss. It was soft and clumsy. After all this time, you were still clumsy for the first few kisses. Before you, she would have found it ridiculous.

Now, she enjoyed it.

Outside the door, the sounds of footsteps on the tile came and went. It didn’t stop either one of you, quite the contrary, it made the situation all the more thrilling. Wednesday knew the joy you would find in it; she could practically hear your words. Two Outcasts fucking around their personal belongings? Sexy.

Her breath hitched lightly when you slipped your hands underneath her dress. It wasn’t salacious; it was rather decent, if she was being honest. You didn’t hike her dress up over her hips and take her right then and there. Rather, you kept her covered, the only indication of something going on being your hands underneath the fabric.

“I’m sorry, mi vida,” you said softly against her skin as you pressed kisses across her jaw. “This will have to be quick unless you want to get caught.”

Wednesday was never a fan of what you and Enid - and clearly the rest of the world - called “quickies.” She was so selective of when and where she was willing to have sex that the thought had never appealed to her. Why dedicate such a short amount of time to something that required much longer? How was it enjoyable? Or even tolerable?

But, as she had noted throughout the night, she wasn’t particularly picky at that moment.

She nodded quickly. More footsteps could be heard outside the door. You were correct; she didn’t wish to be caught. The thrill was arousing, yes, but if it actually happened? There was no doubt in her mind that, though she wouldn’t care about their opinions, she would be mortified.

Your teeth pressed lightly against the pulse point of her neck as you smiled. If Wednesday stretched her neck just a little further, perhaps she could entice you to bite. There was something delectable about the feel of your teeth on her skin. As if you could read her mind, you lightly nipped at her collarbone.

It was a good thing you hadn’t completely enraptured her, or she would have made a surprised noise when you hoisted her up from the ground. Your hands held her by the back of her thighs until you pressed closer, leaving her trapped securely between your body and the wall.

Oh, she rather liked that.

Your unscarred hand moved, sliding softly against her inner thigh before brushing against her underwear. Her body shivered at the slightest of touches. It was humiliating. What was more humiliating was the smile on your face that she desperately wished would vanish.

“You’re already wet,” you noted.

She could kill you.

“The stoic Wednesday Addams is wet,” you said. Your fingers slipped underneath the flimsy fabric and she had to bite her tongue. “From a little makeout session in a coat closet.”

Out of all the times you could be condescending, you had chosen the worst moment. You chose the moment she was already going out of her comfort zone, but also, quite frankly, desperate. She finally understood the pleasure in quickies; it gave less time for words.

Wednesday would have told you to shut up right then and there. She would have stopped you simply out of spite. But her chance was ruined when you slipped two fingers into her with ease. Her head fell back against the wall as those fingers moved at a dangerously quick pace.

She wouldn’t have to wait long to finish. It was truly disgraceful how worked up she was. Had you known? Because she hadn’t. Wednesday had never anticipated ever being so close to a release with such little time. Perhaps it was you. You and your deceptively soft kisses on her neck. You and your nimble fingers that had learned long ago exactly what she loved. You and your damned thumb that never left her clit until she was so sensitive she could almost cry.

That warm feeling in her core didn’t build softly. It formed quickly with each swipe of your thumb, each thrust of your fingers that had her biting her tongue so hard she could taste blood. She managed to lift her head right when you pulled your own mouth away. Perfect.

Her lips pressed against yours before that feeling erupted inside her. It was different from all the other times. It was more intense, hitting her rather quickly instead of slowly cascading over the edge. Her nails dug into the back of your neck, but you didn’t seem to care. You simply held her closer, keeping your fingers moving in rhythm with her body until she could relax in your arms.

Footsteps came closer.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered against your lips, “I know it was fast, we can take our time at home.”

Wednesday didn’t have an answer just yet. She was still out of breath, trying to recover from the wave of bliss that had left her unable to properly function. But she could give you some form of answer; a soft kiss, nothing like what you had just done to her.

She felt you smile against her lips.

“Here,” you said softly as you lowered her back to the ground on shaky legs. “I’ll grab our coats, you take a moment.”

The moment you were gone, she felt cold. It wasn’t something she had ever admitted out loud, but she despised when you left her even if momentarily. She was fond of the warmth you gave her, both internally and externally. There was something special about it that evaded her verbiage. All she knew was she enjoyed it.

When she opened her eyes, she froze.

“What are you doing?” She asked in a husky voice.

You thumbed through the cash in the wallet. “I’m stealing.” You grabbed the wad of cash and placed the empty wallet back into the coat before moving on to the next one. “If I’m going to run a company one day, I should start getting used to it.”

Wednesday walked up to you slowly and waited for you to finish with what was currently in your hands. Once you paused, she pulled you down into a kiss. Slow, soft, good. You pulled back ever so slightly with a small smile on your face, and she just looked at you.

“I love you,” she said softly.

You leaned down to kiss her again.

“I love you too.”

[atypicalamortentia]

The Forest || Lord Voldemort

Synopsis - You're Harry Potter’s twin sister, and the scar on your forehead proved as a constant reminder of that but now, it was burning more than it ever had and you knew he was out there… watching you.

Warnings - NSFW. Dub-Con.

Notes - Characters are aged 18+!

Word Count - 3.6k.

{Caffeinate Me}

Leaves falling from the trees pepper the forest floor beneath your feet as you walked deeper and deeper into the abyss. You are Harry Potter’s twin sister, and the scar on your forehead proved as a constant reminder of that, but now, it was burning more than it ever had and you knew he was out there… watching you. A crunch of leaves came from behind you, and you twirled around on your heels quickly coming face-to-face with that pale monster from your nightmares. “Hello darling.” Your eyes widened and your breath caught in your throat as he sauntered over to you without a care in the world. The smell of smoke and leather was overpowering as he stood before you. 

“What do you want?” Your voice faltered, your fear clearly evident both in your words and your face. 

“Oh come now,” Voldemort smirked. “That’s no way to talk to your beloved, is it?” 

“My beloved?” You asked, narrowing your eyebrows. The thought alone made you feel sick. Voldemort just chuckled at your question. 

“Yes. Your beloved. You may not realise it yet, but you will.” 

Your brows furrowed even more at his words, and the sheer audacity of them. He had tried to kill you when you were a baby and now he was calling you his ‘beloved’? You couldn’t help but scoff at his words, a little bit of laughter leaving your throat as you rolled your eyes. “What do you want?” You asked again, this time sounding more confident than before. 

“You, of course.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your voice was laced with confusion and intrigue. 

Voldemort took another long stride towards you until now he was right within your personal space. “I want you. I’ve come to take you, to make you mine.” 

Your eyes widened yet again and you shook your head violently. “I will never be yours.” 

“You must be naive if you truly think that,” Voldemort whispered, his voice low and husky, hitting your ear just right to send shivers up your spine. 

“I’m not naive,” you spat. 

Voldemort’s breath on your face was hot and overwhelming. Surprisingly, his breath smelt minty, almost as if he had been chewing on a mint moments before this encounter. He leaned into your ear, whispering. “Oh my dear, you’re more naive than you realise.” 

The colour drained from your face as his breath fanned across your ear and cheek. He pulled away to stare into your eyes, his icy gaze bore directly into your soul and you couldn’t help but shudder in response. “You’ve been watching me,” you say to him after a few moments of silence. 

“Watching you? Yes, I have been watching you, and for quite some time now.” 

“Why?” 

Voldemort began to circle around you, a tactic he knew would work to make your nerves shoot on edge the second his body left your line of sight. His hand rested on your shoulder and moved to the other almost gracefully as he walked around you. “You intrigue me, young Potter. You’re nothing like your brother.” 

“We are different people,” you snapped, turning your head to finally follow his movements. 

“I know that, my dear.” 

“Stop calling me that.” 

“And why should I?” He retorted. 

“Because I’m not your ‘dear’,” you spat back. 

“Not yet,” he grinned. His grin was toothy and it was enough to send even more shivers down your spine. Eventually, he reached the front of your body after completing a painfully slow circle around you and stopped dead within arms reach. “Tell me, Y/N, are you afraid of me?” You don’t even get a chance to say ‘no’ before he interrupts you. “Don’t lie to me.” Another gulp leaves your throat and all you can do is nod at him. You’d be stupid to say you weren’t afraid of Voldemort. He had been after you and your brother for the past 10 years. He grins widely yet again and reaches a hand out to tuck a piece of stray hair behind your ear, making you shy backwards until you hit a tree. Voldemort stalked towards you, almost as if he were a cat stalking a bird, and placed both of his hands on either side of the tree right next to your head. He had you boxed in now. There was nowhere you could run, and if you tried he would surely make you suffer the consequences for even trying. A pale white hand with extremely long fingernails came up to cup your right cheek, bringing your face closer to his. His aroma was certainly something you hadn’t expected and it was almost intoxicating. You had to shake your head lightly to remind yourself that this man was a monster. And not just any monster, he was the Dark Lord. As if able to read your mind, Voldemort let out a dry chuckle from his throat. “It’s okay to give in to me, darling. Things would be a lot easier if you did.” 

“I will never give in to you,” you snapped, moving your head away from his hand. 

Voldemort sighed slightly, clearly disappointed with your answer. “Oh my love, you will.” His hand fell down from your cheek to your hip, holding you tightly with an iron grip. You winced at the slight pain in your hip from his hold and tried to break free, but to no avail. “Tell me, what’s going through that pretty head of yours right now?” 

A hiccup threatened to erupt from your throat before you finally felt confident enough to answer the Dark Lord. “I’m thinking about how I could kill you right now.” 

Another dry chuckle left Voldemort’s lips. “Kill me? Now, now, is that really necessary?” He still wore that annoying grin on his face and it was obvious that he wasn’t the least bit fazed by your threat. 

“Necessary? Yes.” 

“And what makes you think you could kill me, little one?” He asked, intrigue in his voice. You shrug lightly, unsure of how exactly you would kill him. You could use his own forbidden curse against him, but you were no Dark Witch. At your shrug, Voldemort laughed. A hearty laugh as if you had just told him the most hilarious joke. This frustrated you even more and you struggled against the grip he had on your hips. “You couldn’t kill me if your life depended on it.” 

“I’d give it a good go,” you seethed through your teeth. Your eyes turned into little slits as your face scrunched up in anger. 

“I could kill you right now, darling, and nobody would come to save you,” he threatened, his laughing coming to a halt. “Does anybody even know you’re out here? All alone?” He asked, narrowing his eyes. You shook your head ever-so-slightly. Of course nobody knew you were out in the forest, alone, in the dead of night. Voldemort grinned yet again and let one of his hands loosen their grip on your hip to retrieve his wand from the inside of his robe. Another breath hitched in your throat as he pressed the tip of his wand to your neck, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. Your life was flashing before your eyes; all the mistakes you made, the bad decisions, everything. He laughed viciously as he saw the tears in your lower lash line. “Oh don’t be so dramatic,” he groaned, rolling his eyes. “Do you really think I would kill you?” 

You blinked rapidly, snapping yourself out of your trance. With a wobbly voice, you responded. “Yes.” 

Voldemort huffed; however, the tip of his wand remained pressed against your neck. “I’m not here to kill you. I told you, I'm here to make you mine.” At his words, he trailed his wand down your neck, across your collarbone and down the front of your blouse stopping just above the waistline of your skirt. His movements had been slow and seductive as he grinned down at you. You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a heat pooling between your legs, that your body was betraying you at the evil man stood in front of you. “I can smell you,” he whispered huskily, inhaling the air around the two of you. “Your arousal. It smells so sweet.” 

“I’m not aroused,” you snapped back, although you knew that he knew you were lying. 

“Oh? You’re not?” He asked casually, another smirk forming on his face. “So if I was to dip a finger down your underwear now, you’d be as dry as a bone?”

“It’s called discharge,” you reply harshly. Voldemort just chuckled at this. He knew you were lying to his face, but he wouldn’t pull you up on it just yet. It was only a matter of time before you fell into his arms and he knew this. “What’s so funny?” You snapped. 

“Nothing,” he smirked, waving a hand in front of your face. “I just find it… cute how naive you are.”

“I am not naive!” Voldemort continued his devilish grin at you, one of his hands still grasping your hips tightly while the other remained on his wand stationed just above the waistband of your skirt. He leaned in close to your right ear before nibbling at your lobe. Your breathing was now heavy as his teeth skimmed your skin, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. Fuck. Why was your body betraying you? You felt a jolt of electricity surge through your body as his teeth continued to work at your earlobe, smirking at the noises you were making. 

“You make such beautiful sounds, my love,” he whispered, pulling away from your ear slightly to look into your eyes. Immediately you looked away to the left, trying to force the slight blush that was rushing to your cheeks away, or trying to make it so the Dark Lord wouldn’t notice the effect he was having on you. Voldemort wasted no time in kissing your jawline, grunts of approval leaving his lips as your body buckled against his. “Keep making them for me.” 

“N-No,” you manage to stammer out. The heat in your cheeks flushing down your body, settling into a dull ache between your thighs. 

“No?” Voldemort asked, raising an eyebrow at you. He pulled away from kissing your jaw for a moment to watch the expression on your face, one filled with confusion. 

“No,” you repeat more confidently. You puffed your chest out, your breasts pushing against his chest. This action sent Voldemort’s mind into a spiral and his grip on your hip tightened. 

He looked down at the tip of his wand resting just above the waistband of your skirt. “Take it off,” he murmured. 

“What?”

“Take. It. Off.” Your eyes widened like a deer in headlights as his words processed in your brain. Your heart was hammering against your chest and for good reason. The Dark Lord was telling you to take your skirt off. You went to shake your head in protest, but his grip tightened further. “You don’t have a choice, sweetheart. Take it off.” Your hands shakily made their way to your skirt's waistband, thumbs hooking underneath before pulling it down hesitantly. His hand moved off your hip to give you the means to pull down the item of clothing. You looked up at Voldemort to see him staring at you with a predatory gaze, his wand now tucked delicately back into his robes. Once your skirt pooled at your feet, Voldemort wasted no time in turning you around so you were now facing the tree. Both of his hands now rested on your hips before he felt up your plump ass, squeezing your cheeks together in the palms of his hands. Mumbling something under his breath, Voldemort ripped your underwear from your body and allowed the tattered fabric to float silently down to the forest floor - your pussy now on full display for him to see. You cringed at the fact, and at the feeling of your arousal dripping down your inner thighs. 

You wanted to scream, to shout for help, but when you opened your mouth no words were able to come. You found yourself wanting this. One of his feet nestled between your own, forcing your legs apart and ripping a gasp from your throat. Then, a pale slender finger made its way between your thighs, collecting some of your wetness before rubbing slowly at your puffy clit. Already, your knees began to shake. The feeling of pleasure already filling your body and the Dark Lord had barely even touched you. A chuckle brought you out of the little bubble you were in. “Ah, you’re singing so sweetly for me.” 

“Shut up,” you grumbled, pathetically attempting to close your legs. 

Voldemort just laughed darkly in response, his foot staying firmly in place in order to keep your legs wide open. His finger strummed at your clit almost expertly, pushing you to throws of ecstasy that you hadn’t experienced in a long time. “Are you going to cum from this?” Voldemort asked, a shit eating grin on his face. You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt to stop yourself from biting back a harsh response and instead just nodded. “Your pussy is so needy. I already know it’s pulsing for my cock.” 

At his words, a cry of pleasure left your lips and your knees began to buckle beneath your weight. Your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave and tears of shame and pleasure fell down your cheeks. The Dark Lord continued his fingers' ruthless assault against your swollen clit until your moans came to a halt and he knew your orgasm had subsided. You were breathing heavily, hands spread out and palms digging into the bark of the forest tree you were facing as if holding on for dear life. You were about to move when you heard the unbuckling of a belt, and the zip of a zipper. Then you felt something heavy and hard pressed up against your ass cheeks. He was big. 

Voldemort let his hand grasp the base of his large cock and positioned it at your soaked entrance. Without hesitation, or warning, he pushed the engorged head inside of your cunt forcing a moan to fall from your throat. He whispered praises into your ear as he slowly forced the rest of the inches inside your warm walls and came to a halt, politely giving you a moment to adjust to the foreign sensation invading your body. You took a shaky breath and nodded, giving the Dark Lord the go-ahead to continue. And he did. Mercilessly. His hips snapped against yours and it was as if the world had finally fallen into place for him. This was where he needed to be, forever. Voldemort’s hands grasped your hips tightly as he pounded against you, hitting that sweet spongy spot inside that had you seeing stars already. Nobody had ever fucked you this good, but you’d be damned if you’d say that out loud. “Fuck, you feel so tight,” he growled against your ear, nails digging into your hips. Surely there would be noticeable marks on your hips by the time he was finished with you. “I know you haven’t been fucked for a long time. You think I wasn’t watching you? This whole time, I’ve been in the shadows watching everything you do. Watching everyone you talk to.” At his words, your walls tightened even further, constricting around his cock. This told him everything that he needed to know: you were enjoying this. “Do you like that? The thought of me watching you?” He asked. You nodded your head pathetically, but Voldemort growled in response. “Use your words, my love.” 

“Yes,” you gasped out, nails dragging down the bark on the tree in front of you. 

“Good girl.”

His praise sent a shockwave through your core and you already felt your second orgasm approaching. You felt ashamed. Ashamed that the man who had tried to kill both you and your brother when you were just babies was making you cum. Ashamed that his cock was drilling in and out of your tight hole. Ashamed that you were loving every moment of it. One of Voldemort’s hands moved from your hips to cup your covered breast, bouncing with the force of his thrusts. He squeezed tightly, another moan slipping past your pursed lips. 

“I-I can’t!” You cried out, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder. 

Voldemort brought his lips to yours, smashing against yours and immediately slipping his tongue inside of your mouth. His tongue wasted no time in fighting for dominance and his hips never faltered, his rhythm almost out of this world. Your heart continued to beat out of your chest but the second his lips attached to yours, you felt it stop for a second. He groaned into your mouth as your cunt fluttered around his cock, signalling how close you were to your release. He kissed you feverishly, almost desperately before pulling away. A string of saliva connecting your lips. “You can’t? You can’t what, my sweet?” Voldemort asked, a dry laugh on the tip of his tongue. 

“I can’t cum again,” you whimpered, your body already feeling as though it was going limp against his. 

He continued to thrust against you at an ungodly pace, his cock threatening to spill his own release inside of you at any minute. “You can. I can feel it. Play with your clit,” he demanded. Almost immediately one of your hands fell from the tree in front of you to between your legs, playing with the throbbing bundle of nerves. The second your fingers touched the little bud, it was like a dam breaking. Your entire body shivered with the force of your orgasm, a cry-like scream of Voldemort’s name falling from your lips. Your cunt quivered around his cock, which in turn caused the Dark Lord to spill his seed deep inside of your womb without hesitation. “Fuck Y/N,” he growled, almost angrily. His hips continued to mash against yours, albeit slower, as his creamy cum filled you. Your eyes widened as you realised he had cum inside of you without warning you first, and rage filled your senses. When his cum had stopped pouring inside of you, Voldemort pulled out of you and took a step back admiring his spend which was already dripping from your tight hole. “You look so beautiful like this.” Voldemort used a hand to spread your ass cheeks apart to truly admire the mess he had made before zipping himself back up into his trousers. He tapped your ass cheek with the palm of his hand and grinned at you. 

When he made no attempt to move, or do anything but look at you, you bent down to pick up your skirt and tattered underwear from the forest floor. Shame and fear bubbled in your gut. Now he had gotten what he wanted, was he going to finally kill you? You turned to look at him once you were decent again, taking note of the way he stared at you. There was a hint of an emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t quite recognise. “So what? Are you going to kill me now?” You asked bitterly. 

“Kill you?” Voldemort asked, snorting as if it was the most ridiculous question in the world. You nodded your head in response. The Dark Lord shook his head. “No. You’re mine now and nothing can change that. You will meet me here again, tomorrow night. At the same time.” 

Your heart dropped, and yet simultaneously beat quicker with excitement. Was this the beginning of a love between good and evil? “I will?” You asked, voice trembling. 

“Yes, you will. And if you don’t there will be consequences, my love.” You didn’t even want to ask what the consequences would be. You knew with it being a threat from the Dark Lord himself that it couldn’t be anything good. You simply just nodded your head in understanding. “Run along then, my dear. But don’t forget, I’ll be watching you from the shadows. Don’t be telling anybody about tonight. I shall know everything.” 

You nod your head and look towards the castle grounds before looking back at Voldemort, almost as if asking for permission to run off. When he nodded his head, you bolted for the castle, desperate to flop into your warm bed where you knew you would be out of harm's way. You hadn’t even gotten halfway to the castle and you could feel the warmth of the blankets smothering you. When you arrived back at your dorm, everyone was already asleep. It made it much easier for you to sneak back inside undetected and avoid the questions of “where have you been?”. You quickly pull on a pair of underwear, throwing your torn ones underneath your pillow to throw away in the morning and got into your comfiest pair of pyjamas. Your bed was so warm and welcoming after everything that you fell asleep almost immediately. When you woke up the next morning, your body was sore. You had woken up to being the only one left in the dorm room and took the time to inspect the countless fingermarks peppering your hips - they were certainly as clear as day, and you knew you couldn’t let anybody see them. There would certainly be questions as to who would leave such marks on you. But the main question was, would you rendezvous with Voldemort again as he had instructed?

[kaminokatie]

Sex Pollen || Poly!Bad Batch

Synopsis - You get hit with a serious dose of sex pollen and the guys all agree to help you out.

Warnings - NSFW.

Word Count - 3.5k.

Find Part Two Here.

{Caffeinate Me}

You were back on Kamino in the boys barracks after a particularly stressful mission on some planet you couldn’t even seem to remember at this point in time. You began to fan yourself rapidly with your hand as you spoke to the group. “Is it getting hot in here or is it just me?”

“It’s just you,” Echo replied, not looking up from the holopad in his hand. 

The only person who seemed to notice your sudden distress was Tech. He stood up from his place at his bunk and walked over to you, but you didn’t realise. Your eyes were focused on Crosshair who was cleaning his gun across the room, blacks half-way down his body revealing his muscular toned chest and abs. You felt your mouth watering at the sight and a familiar ache settle between your legs. Tech removed a glove and placed his hand on your forehead causing you to jump slightly and turn your attention to the smartest of the clones in front of you. “Y/N, are you okay?” He asked softly, eyes meeting yours. You shook your head, bottom lip quivering. Tech looked towards Hunter with a concerned expression on his face, “she’s burning up.” 

Hunter immediately stood up and walked over to you. Tech moved to the side allowing the Sergeant to place his hand on your forehead to feel for himself. A soft whimper left your lips at the sudden contact that confused Hunter, but he nodded at Tech in response and kneeled down to your height, gazing into your eyes. “Y/N?” He asked softly, clicking his fingers in front of your face. He just wanted to make sure you were aware of what was going on around you. 

“Stop doing that,” you mumbled to him. Your body was beginning to burn up past its usual temperature and you felt physically sick. Despite the heat your body was radiating, you felt cold shivers tingling over your skin and leaving goosebumps over your arms and legs. Wrecker was next to show concern, walking over to stand next to Hunter and Tech as he stared down at you. 

“What’s wrong Y/N?” He asked, waiting for your response. 

“It’s too hot!” You cried out, arching your back slightly. The ache between your legs becoming more and more intense by the second. You knew what you needed: you needed to be fucked, but why? You didn’t know. 

“What’s wrong with her Tech?” Hunter asked his brother, clearly worried about you. 

Tech shrugged lightly and walked over to Echo, grabbing the datapad out of his hands. “She seemed fine on the mission.”

“Well… Maybe she ate something funny?” Wrecker suggested, looking between his brothers. 

“No it cannot be that. We all ate the same things, so we would be feeling the same too.” 

“That’s true,” Hunter mumbled, his hand going back to feel your forehead. “Tech, she’s burning up really bad.” 

“We will get to the bottom of this,” Tech assured as he scrolled on the datapad. 

Your gaze met Hunter’s and you let out a frustrated sigh as you began to take off your armour, allowing it to fall to the floor with a clang. “I need to get out of these stupid clothes,” you whined, desperately pawing at the back of your blacks. 

Echo sat up and looked at Tech, his eyebrow raised slightly. “What about those flowers? The ones she went frolicking in after the mission?” Echo asked. This gained Tech’s attention and within seconds he had all the information up about the flowers Echo had mentioned. 

“Hunter, this is bad,” Tech gulped as he read the information available to him on the holopad. 

“What is it?” Hunter asked, peering over Tech’s shoulder. 

“Those flowers, when they come into contact with human skin, release a sex pollen,” Tech replied, eyes skimming the words on the holopad. 

“Sex pollen?” Wrecker asked, his eyes darting between you and the squad. 

You were lying down on a bunk, tossing and turning your head, quite clearly uncomfortable. You just needed some relief. Tech looked at you, his eyebrows narrowing. “The sex pollen is basically going to make her feel really aroused until she gets some relief,” Tech explained to his brothers. 

“What sort of relief?” Wrecker asked again. 

“Don’t be so coy Wrecker,” Crosshair grinned. “He means sex.” 

“And how long will it take to wear off?” Hunter asked, his eyebrow raised as he looked at Tech. 

“Until she gets that relief or erm…” Tech trailed off, reading the last part of the information. 

“Or what Tech?” Echo asked, prompting him to continue with what he was going to say. 

“Or she dies.” 

“This could kill her?” Hunter asked, slightly shocked. Tech just nodded, his attention now turned to you. You had managed to take off your blacks, throwing them into a heap on the floor until you were just in your underwear. Your back was arching off of the bunk and your hands were balled up into fists by your sides. “So what do we do?” Hunter asked after a few minutes of silence. He was biting his bottom lip, clearly in thought. 

“Someone has to have sex with her,” Tech replied, also biting his bottom lip. He continued to watch as you writhed, eyes rolling back into your head. 

“Who?” Came Echo’s now concerned voice. Tech shrugged at Echo’s question. He didn’t know, nobody knew. The boys looked around at each other, silently asking for the others permission. 

“I’ll do it,” Hunter replied. 

“I personally think I should do it,” Crosshair said, standing up from his position. 

“And why shouldn’t it be me?” Wrecker asked, looking between Crosshair and Hunter. 

“Please,” you whimpered, hands reaching down under your underwear and circling at your pulsating clit. “Someone just please fuck me.” 

Echo walked over to you, resting his hand on your forehead. “She’s really burning up guys,” he said. A gasp left your lips at Echo’s touch and you found yourself bucking your hips up further into the air. Your eyes met Echo’s as you begged him silently, forcing a shiver to appear up the clones back. He felt his cock hardening at the sight of you, spread out with a hand down your underwear furiously rubbing at your clit. Before he even knew what he was doing, Echo bent down to press a soft kiss on your lips. A whimper of surprise and need left your mouth at the contact, but you didn’t falter the movements between your legs. The other’s eyes widen as you grasp Echo’s scomp, pulling him down on top of you forcefully. He let out a groan as he landed on top of you, lips still attached to your own. You continued to buck your hips up against Echo’s, removing your hand from down your underwear to work on his blacks. 

“I guess Echo has this covered,” Tech whispered to his brothers watching as you pulled down Echo’s blacks, his cock springing free, painfully hard and already leaking pre-cum. 

“Please Echo,” you managed to choke out. The heat radiating from your body had him dizzy as he forced his tip against your entrance, pushing into you with a groan. “Maker!” You gasped out, head spinning from the way he filled your tight cunt. The rest of The Batch stood and awkwardly watched as Echo moved himself against you, mumbling praises against your lips.  

Crosshair tilted his head as he watched, eyes flickering to your face and admiring the way it contorted into expressions of pure pleasure. Your hands flew to Echo’s shoulders, gripping him tightly as he hit that spot deeper inside of your spongy walls. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you lolled against the firm pillow behind you. “She likes that,” Crosshair hummed, walking over to the bunk you were laying on. Echo pulled away from your mouth and buried his head into the crook of your neck, lips skimming your throat as he continued his sloppy movements. You dropped a hand from Echo’s shoulder and reached out to grasp Crosshair’s hand, pulling him further towards you. Lewd sounds filled the room as Echo pulled out of you completely, only to slam himself back into you, thrusts harsher than before. 

“Crosshair,” came your moan as you squeezed his hand tightly. 

“Kriff Y/N, if you keep squeezing me like that I’m going to cum,” Echo groaned against your neck. Your pussy was throbbing, your skin on fire. 

“Already, Echo?” Crosshair chuckled, his fingers dancing along yours. Echo just nodded as his hips stuttered, his cock pulsating inside of you as he came shamelessly with a growl. “Out of the way,” Crosshair grumbled, pushing Echo off of you and taking his place between your legs. “Do you need more, Y/N?” he asked, pulling his blacks down to his ankles, erect cock springing free.

“Please Cross,” you whimpered. 

He just nodded before pushing inside of you, moans coming from both of your throats. He didn’t give you time to adjust to his length before he slammed against you, Echo’s cum drooling from between your filled hole. Crosshair grunted as his lips found yours, kissing you passionately as he worked his way inside of you roughly. 

“Slow down Crosshair,” Hunter warned, but the sniper didn’t listen. Instead, he snapped his hips against yours faster, harder until you were a squealing mess underneath him. 

“This feel good?” Crosshair asked you, completely ignoring the widened eyes of his brothers as he fucked your harder. All you could do was nod as you felt your cunt flutter around Crosshair’s cock. You back arched as he hit that spot inside of you that had you seeing stars, your vision clouding white as your first orgasm approached rapidly. You couldn’t even voice it before you were spraying Crosshair with your juices. “Good girl,” he purred, one of his hands moving to grasp your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

“Osik,” Hunter gasped, watching as your entire body trembled underneath Crosshair’s slender form. 

Within the blink of an eye, Crosshair had pulled out of you and jerked himself off rapidly until he came over your stomach, spurting out of his inflamed tip and onto your soft skin. You were panting rapidly as Crosshair grumbled something under his breath, climbing off of you and pulling his blacks up before leaving the room. “Has the pollen worn off?” Hunter asked, tilting his head to the side asking both you and Tech. Tech was about to answer a quick ‘I think so’ before you let out a loud, pained cry. 

“It hurts so much,” you whimpered. “It’s so kriffing hot!” 

“I’ll take that as a no,” Echo replied, sitting down next to you and stroking your hair lovingly.

“Hunter,” came your choked sob. 

“I’m here,” Hunter whispered back to you, stepping into view. You outstretched your hand towards him waiting for him to take it.

“Please make it stop,” you whimpered. 

“What do you want me to do Y/N?” Hunter asked seriously. His voice was laced with concern as his eyebrows furrowed at you. 

“Fuck me, please,” you practically begged. Hunter was taken back by your plea and, for some reason, looked towards Echo. He just nodded at his brother allowing him to make the next move. Hunter began removing his armour to which you growled. “Hurry up!”

He nodded at you, removing his cod-piece and tugging his blacks down to his knees before crawling on top of you. “Are you sure?” He asked softly, searching your eyes for any form of apprehension. 

“Yes, yes I’m sure!” You whimpered eagerly. You had already been fucked by two of your squad mates: but it wasn’t enough. Your body was demanding more. Hunter pressed the tip of his cock against your folds, lubricating it with the mixture of your wetness and Echo’s cum before slowly inching into your folds. He found himself gritting his teeth as he placed his hands on either side of your head, supporting his body on top of yours. “Hunter!” You cried, arms wrapping around his neck and legs around his waist as he pummelled into you. 

“Stars, you feel better than I ever dreamed,” Hunter whispered softly to you. He couldn’t help himself as his cock twitched inside of you, a growl left his throat as your cunt squeezed him tightly. You couldn’t respond as Hunter smashed his hips against yours, your mouth opening to let out sound after sound, squeal after squeal. “You going to cum, hm? Tell me Y/N,” Hunter groaned, but all you could do was nod a simple ‘yes’. It felt too good. “Tell me,” Hunter growled at you, his eyes boring into yours. 

“I-I’m going to cum Hunter!” You cried out, your legs tightening around his waist as your orgasm washed over you. Your back arched off the bunk, pushing your exposed chest against Hunter’s, forcing a groan to leave his lips at the feeling of your soft breasts against his chest. 

“Kriff, you’re squeezing me so tightly, baby. I’m going to cum, where do you want me?” Hunter asked. 

“Please don’t stop, please,” you begged, but your begging mixed with the fluttering of your cunt around his cock had pushed Hunter over the edge and before you even got to answer, he was spilling himself inside you with a loud moan while throwing his head back. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart I couldn’t…” Hunter mumbled trailing off his sentence, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. You let out another whine of desperation as Echo continued to stroke your hair. You looked between Tech and Wrecker, desperate for one of them to take Hunter’s place between your legs as he pulled out of you and dressed himself. 

“My turn,” Wrecker sang as he took his blacks off so they were pooling around his ankles. “You okay dove?” 

“Please,” your voice croaked. Sweat beaded from your forehead, falling down your temples from both the heat of the strenuous activity and the effects of the sex pollen. You didn’t need to voice another word for Wrecker to push himself into your tight heat, a pleasured and pained gasp leaving your lips. He was bigger than his brothers, and although you desperately needed a minute to adjust to his length, you were already moving your hips against his. You bit your bottom lip, eyes once again rolling into the back of your head as Wrecker began to move. The tip of his cock poking against your cervix, hitting that special spot inside of you that had your vision turning blurry and tears forming in the corner of your eyes. You let out a cry of frustration as Wrecker’s pace sped up, pounding into your pussy viciously despite his usual ‘gentle giant’ demeanour. 

“Shh you’re okay,” Echo cooed, his fingers trailing through your hair and dancing along your scalp. “We’re going to make sure you’re going to be okay.” 

You nodded your head erratically as an acknowledgement to Echo, hands balling into fists besides you and scrunching up the sheets on the bunk, desperate to hold on to something. You felt your pussy tighten around Wrecker’s cock as he placed his hands on your thighs and spread your legs further, giving him deeper access to you. A loud moan erupted from your throat as he hit further inside of you deeper than anybody ever had before, tears cascading down your face from the pleasure you were feeling.  You felt a third release nearing, but Wrecker pulled out and grabbed your hair pushing your lips down onto his cock. You sucked him greedily, licking the salty pre-cum from his slit as he bucked his hips against your face. “Ah - kriff, I’m cumming!” Wrecker yelped out, his hands on your hair tightening as his hips continued to thrust against your face. Still, you sucked and licked until he was spurting his thick, white ropes into your mouth and down your throat. Eagerly you swallowed everything he had to offer as if you were a dehydrated dog in the sandy deserts of Tatooine causing Wrecker to moan your name over and over again. He looked down on you with lust filled eyes as he pulled his cock out of your mouth before patting your head. You couldn’t help but give him a slight smile despite your continuous discomfort.

“Better?” Tech asked, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

“I need to cum,” you whispered. “So kriffing badly.” Tech’s eyes widened as you reached out for him, anxiety settling in his gut as he took your hand in his. You pulled him to your side. “I don’t care how you do it, Tech, but I just need to cum once more. Please.” Tech nodded knowingly as he settled himself down onto the bed, pulling his cock out of his blacks. You settled down on his lap, straddling him before lining his engorged tip up with your soaked folds. With one swift movement, you slammed your aching cunt down on to Tech’s cock, moaning loudly. Your body was slowly starting to revert back to its normal temperature and your breathing started to slow back down. You knew that you needed to cum once more before your body finally expelled the pollen that had been coursing through your body. Your hands flew to Tech’s neck as you slowly began to bounce up and down, pulling off of him completely before slamming back down repeatedly. The movement itself sent shockwaves of pleasure to your core, but you needed more. “More Tech, please. Touch me,” you begged. 

Hesitantly, Tech placed his hands on your exposed breasts, squeezing them lightly. As you let out a moan of pleasure, Tech tightened his grip and moved his fingers to your nipples, flicking the sensitive buds between his thumbs. You threw your head back as you continued to rock your hips against his. Tech’s breathing became ragged as he continued playing with your breasts, his eyes never leaving yours as you moved against him, “stars you are so beautiful,” he mumbled lowly before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. Your eyes widened as his lips met yours, but you quickly melted into it, kissing back just as passionately. You felt your third orgasm approaching, your body finally starting to feel tired as the pollen was fully expelling from your body. You moaned into Tech’s lips as your hand moved down from his neck to play with your clit, strumming at the bundle of nerves as you continued to ride Tech with meaning. 

You pulled away from Tech’s lips to speak. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming so hard!” Your voice was shaky and your bouncing was sloppy. Tech, finally gaining some confidence, pushed you back down onto the bunk so you were on your back, legs in the air as he thrusted into you haphazardly. 

“I’m cumming too,” he moaned, his cock twitching inside of your pulsating heat. Just as Tech said those words, you simultaneously came. You couldn’t help but spray over Tech’s cock as he pushed into you one final time, filling you to the brim until you physically couldn’t take any more cum. He was spilling out of you before he even had time to pull out, weeping over the bunks sheets shamelessly. “Oh Gods,” Tech groaned as he slipped out of you, his cock twitching as he slowly began to soften. 

You rested your head back against the pillow, breathing deeply as Echo resumed his position behind your head, stroking your hair. “Do you… feel better?” He asked. 

Your eyes met his and you thought for a moment before nodding. “Yes. I do.” You then sat up, looking around the room at the rest of your squad members before smiling awkwardly. “Thank you. Thank you all of you. I would have…” You trailed off your words, not wanting to think about what would happen if they hadn’t stepped in and helped. 

“Don’t think about it,” Hunter said, a soft smile on his face. “We’ll always have your back.”

“Always,” the rest of the squad said in unison. 

You swung your legs over the side of the bunk to collect your underwear and blacks in your arms before dressing yourself quickly, feeling extremely embarrassed and self-conscious. When you were fully dressed, you stood up and stretched, feeling your bones crack and limbs pop into place from being laid in such obscure positions. “I should… go shower,” you mumbled, looking down at the ground. You were all sweaty and needed to cool down from the intense heat of the room. The boys nodded at you, all of them including Crosshair, offering you a small smile as you left the room. As you walked to the showers, you had no idea where this situation left you with your squad. Were they just having sex with you to stop you from dying, or was there something more behind it all? You had no idea, but the thought made your stomach and heart flutter, along with a small pit of anxiety to settle in your gut. You’d give it a few days and see where this went, but a part of you was hoping there was more to it than just simply preventing your untimely demise from sex pollen.

[josnhoes]

Platonic!Yan batfam with young adult reader. Part 2

[Part one]

Note: Reader is 18-22 years old. Gn reader

Content warning: being treated like a child, being looked down on, stalking, obsessions, soft yandere but still a yandere, reader has memory issues and it's ambiguous as to why, drugging, mentioned abduction, delusional batfam, batfam as a whole basically view you as a child younger then Damien despite you being older

Focuses on Tim Drake

---

For the following week you'd noticed one or a few of the bat brood following you in the evenings. You weren't sure *why*, but it did make you feel a bit safer so you didn't complain. It was Gotham, any sense of safety was welcome.

The small book shop and coffee place you worked at didn't get a ton of customers. It was a hole in the wall style place, sometimes it got new customers but a majority we're regulars. There were also a few college students who used the late hours to buy a single coffee, then use the free wifi to do class work. Today's shift had you on coffee duty.

The bell chimed, signaling a customer or what you *hoped* was a customer. You looked up and were flabbergasted to see Timothy Drake, the co-ceo of Wayne enterprises. Normally you didn't pay much attention to CEOs of anything, but the Waynes were like the poster family for Gotham. One way or another you learned their faces and the names.

As he approached the counter you did your best to smile and not seem nervous. "Hello sir can I help you today?"

The look he gave you almost seemed to be taking you apart peice by peice; assessing you down to your soul. "I'll take a large coffee and as many shots of espresso as you can legally give me. For here."

You supposed today was going to be one of those™️ days. "Of course sir. Feel free to sit where ever you like. Would you like something to eat too?"

"No thanks." He seemed to soften now and once you gave the total he paid with a nice tip. Though he chose the spot closest to you to work. Probably because that was the best area for wifi signal you supposed.

You got his order out fast since it looked like he needed caffeine more then oxygen at this point. As you placed the drink down you had the urge to talk to him but decided against it.

Tim had been having a trying week. He could balance his nightlife and the company fairly well; but the addition of you had been a problem. He didn't know what it was about you that pulled him and his family in. He'd gone over your entire life that he could find multiple times now, and nothing ever changed. No secret identity, no shady acts, aside from some strange tumblr activity you were clear. Mind you all activity on tumblr was weird as he came to see. The entire batfam either made accounts just to follow you, the ones had them already followed you too.

The family adored you and he...was no exception. He tried to be, the way his family was spiraling and for one civilian was alarming. But he couldn't fight it. You were special. You *needed* them to keep you safe. You obviously couldn't be trusted to do it on your own, just today you forgot to lock your home.

While yes it made putting the cameras in your home easier, it also meant that you could have gotten robbed or worse. You'd admitted to being spacey at times online, made a joke of it but it was dangerous.

He finally took the time to sip on the coffee. It was good, better than most places he had. You clearly knew your way around the machine. Would you make him coffee in the mornings? Tell him to have a good day as you called him your favorite big brother? He needed to know.

The more he watched you, the more he worried for you. What if you got hurt? Not even in a rogue attack but in general. You obviously cooked for yourself, and cleaned. Knives and chemicals? Too dangerous for his baby sibling, and he hated knowing if something *did* happen you might be alone.

He'd speed up the family's preparations for you. You'd fight them at first so they had to prepare a special room. But you'd see how well they cared for you, how much they all loved you, and everything they could provide. Hopefully the room will be ready soon.

[ruenii]

i had this idea where Tim has cuteness aggression and is just so bad at conveying it (well not like batman level but you get the point) that sometimes people mistake his cuteness aggression face as a 'im gonna punt you six feet under' face and tim is confused when his brothers or his friends get scared when he just wants to squish em cause they're sososo cute.

his family (except for dick and cass) doesn't know about this so they just think that 'oh god-- oh myfucking gofd-- tim is glaring at me again what the fuck-- what did i do???' and is just scared of what they did to cause tim, THE CALM ONE, to glare at them.

but tim is just:

tim, [on the inside]: awWWWW lOOK AT MY BABY BROTHERS!!! THEY'RE SO CUTE!! I WANNA PAT THEM ON THE HEAD!!! I WANNA SPOIL THEM I WANNA BITE THEIR CHEEKS LOOK AT THEM AWWWEEE I WANNA SQUISH THEM SO HARDD!! NO-- NO THEY WON'T LIKE THAT I HAVE TO STAY CALM!! ENDURE THE URGE TO PINCH THEM!! 🥺🥺

tim, [on the outside]: *glares at them like they just burned his entire supply of coffee and caffeinated drinks and disgust*

duke: did... did i do something--

tim: *clenches his fist*

damian: don't be such a coward, drake, using physical cues to convey your emotions are unbecomi--

tim: *walks out of the room*

duke & damian: ...

duke: oh fuck... did we make his mood even worse?

damian: surely drake hasn't been... affected by that *his body clearly shaking*

dick: don't worry timmy isn't angry at you guys :)

jason: i can hear him screaming what do you mean he isn't angry

dick: he's just... letting out some pent-up frustration..

[lazycats-stuff]

Yk the one where batbro reader meets the justice league and the leave absolutely loves him? Could you do one with the young justice with Tim or teens titans with dick or the outlaws with Jason?

You know what? I will do all 3 of them. Even if it kills my fingers. Also, some Dick Grayson appreciation.

Summary: (Y/N) is loved by his brother's friends.

Bruce Wayne & male!reader

Warnings: a little angst, but it's resolved, cursing, the teams love (Y/N)...

Ever since (Y/N) met the Justice League members, the news of a youngest vigilante spread like wildfire amongst the Young Justice, Teen Titans and the Outlaws. Jason, Dick and Tim weren't really sure how to feel about it. They were constantly asked about his younger brother.

If only they knew.

Tim looked over the files for the upcoming mission they had. It isn't under the Justice League, it was just under them. The more he looked over the files, the more it looked like a test created by Batman to test them all.

Their mission was to stop meta human trafficking, but it was connected to the Light. Batman didn't really involve them with the Light and they were only involved with the minor members of the Light.

If there is one member they never wanted to fight against, that was Ra's al Ghul. Tim didn't really want to face him. He saw enough of him.

And that's why he called (Y/N) to come by.

He needed a new set of eyes to look all over this. This was reeking of Batman influence, but if he voiced it to his teammates, he was sure that he was going to be called paranoid.

And again that's why he has called his younger brother. Out of all of them, he was the most objective and most realistic one. He looked up from the table when he heard the Zeta tubes going off, announcing the arrival of his brother.

Blue Beetle looked up too, confused as to who is entering the place. It's the same place where the OG Young Justice was and Blue Beetles eyes widened at the sight of the infamous (V/N). Tim waved his brother over.

He is still in his suit, mask on. There were some cuts on his suit and Tim saw that he came after patrol.

" Killer Croc? " Tim asked and (Y/N) nodded. Tim knew that (Y/N) is tired and he offered some coffee in apology.

" I'm sorry about calling you so late. I forgot the time difference. " Tim said, giving (Y/N) the papers to look at. (Y/N) sat down next to him, blinking to clear the tiredness.

" And what is the problem with the mission? " (Y/N) asked and the two brothers ignored the growing audience. Alongside Blue Beetle, there were now Kid Flash, Thirteen, Arrowette, Static and Wonder Girl. All of them looked at one another, clearly in shock to see (V/N).

" It reeks of Batman influence. " Tim explained and (Y/N) nodded. Tim's eyes looked at point behind (Y/N)'s shoulder.

Oh no. He glared at them, clearly saying try me.

" Robin, is that (V/N)? " Kid Flash started and Tim just rolled his eyes.

" Not now. " Tim said and (Y/N) just took a sip of his coffee. He really needed it.

" Is Batman really scary? " Kid Flash zooming to sit next to him.

" I have no comment on that. " (Y/N) said, looking up from the papers.

" Is Robin really addicted to caffeine? " Wonder Girl asked, sitting next to Tim.

" No comment. " (Y/N) said, turning the paper over. Now everyone was huddled over the two brothers.

Tim watched as everyone filed around (Y/N), asking him questions. There is a small smile on (Y/N)'s face as he talked to the team. He answered all of their other questions and Tim just looked at his brother.

Maybe this wasn't a bad idea. He stepped in when he saw how (Y/N)'s social battery is low.

" Well, he needs to go now. He came directly from patrol and he is tired. " Tim stated, moving closer to his brother.

" You need to come again! " Kid Flash said yelled to the duo as the brothers said goodbye. (Y/N) waived at them, saying he would.

Jason was sitting at one of the safe houses, looking over some files for the upcoming mission in regards to a mission related Black Mask. That man is a slippery little shit and he can somehow get back on his feet.

He took a drag of cigarette, shaking it off in the ash tray. This man is the biggest stressor in his life. Not even Bruce is this stressful. Roy and Amazon were crashing here too. Bizarro is somewhere around.

He looked up as he heard the door opening and some screams. After a last drag, he stood up, knees cracking from the long sitting. His guns were strapped on his sides as he made his way to the entrance.

He heard some cooing and some chuckles. Who the hell is cooing? He sighed as he saw his little brother, in his suit. Artemis is cooing at his brother. An Amazon warrior is cooing at his brother.

And Roy? He looked at him with a curious look in his eyes.

" (Y/N), you know I tolerate you. " Jason started.

" Likewise. "

" But what are you doing here? Not even Bruce knows about this safehouse. " Jason stated, raising his eyebrow.

" Before you say anything, he doesn't know that I'm here. Also, do you really think that Bruce doesn't know about this safe house? " (Y/N) said, pushing past the stuttering Jason.

" Also, I need some help. I'm trying to track down a contact of Black Mask. I know for a fact that you are an expert on that man. " (Y/N) said, plopping himself down on the couch.

" Jason, why didn't we meet this great kid? Why did you hide him? " Roy asked.

Jason rolled his eyes and moved back to the table to get his files and cigarettes.

" You still smoke? " (Y/N) asked, a frown on his face.

" Only when I need to destress. Which is often. Say something to Alfred and I will end you. " Jason said, putting the file and the pack down next to him on the couch.

" Alright, which contact do you need? " Jason asked, pulling up the list.

(Y/N) leaned into Jason, saying the name. Roy and Artemis looked at this adorable human. They were brothers, because Jason would not allow anyone to really lean on him like that.

" Okay, so this bastard is a cheeky one. " Jason started.

He was in the middle of an explanation when they heard Bizarro entering. He looked confused and then he just grunted. Jason nodded, seemingly confirming what he said.

" Yes, this is my brother. He needed some help. " Jason explained to Bizarro.

(Y/N) was a little bit tense at the sight of Bizarro. He is huge. A big rock.

" Relax, he is good. " Jason said to (Y/N).

" Alright. I should go. " (Y/N) said, standing up. " I got all I needed. Also, B wants to see you soon. For what, I don't know, but he needs to talk to you. " (Y/N) said and Jason raised his eyebrow.

" What? "

" Nice to meet you all. " (Y/N) said to the others as he left.

Once he left, Jason had to lit up a cigarette.

" Why is he so cute? " Artemis asked Jason. Jason rolled his eyes. He had an even better question. Why is (Y/N) so likable?

The last team that meet (Y/N) was Teen Titans. (Y/N) got into a big fight with Bruce and he simply didn't want to be on the same city as him. And what does the teen do in that situation?

He 'borrows' the car and drive to Bludhaven to his oldest brother and his team called Teen Titans. He knew that if he stayed in Gotham any longer, he was going to set the manor ablaze, alongside Gotham. He parked the car in front of the tower, just going towards the elevator.

He couldn't give a damn about the security. He could hear somebody yelling for him, but he didn't care about it. He needs his big brother. He needs an objective person.

And that person is his brother Dick.

He didn't see him when he entered the common room. However, everyone else was there and saw him. Raven, Beast Boy, Superboy and Starfire.

They all started at each other for a moment and it was awkward.

" Is Dick here by any means? " (Y/N) asked the team. Starfire looked at him for a moment before smiling.

" You are the famous (V/N). " She said and the others looked at him in shock, but the shock turned into recognition.

" Yeah... Is Dick here? I really need to talk to him. " (Y/N) said, feeling nervous now. He really needs to talk to him.

" He should be here any moment now. Please, make yourself comfortable. " She said, pointing at the couch. (Y/N) nodded and sat down at the couch. The team saw that something was off about (Y/N), but they knew that (Y/N) wouldn't say anything.

Dick came a minute later and after saying hi to the team, before setting his eyes on his brother. He saw that something was wrong.

" Hey, what's wrong? " Dick asked sitting down next to (Y/N).

" I need to talk to you in private. " (Y/N) said and Dick could hear the sheer sadness in his voice. He nodded and led him to his bedroom. He knew that (Y/N) was going to break at any moment.

" Now, tell me what happened. " Dick said, closing the door. (Y/N) sat down and looked down.

" I got into a big fight with Bruce. And I maybe took one of his cars to get here. " (Y/N) said, giving him a short version of what happened. Dick knew that now he wasn't going to get anything from (Y/N) if he pushed. For now, he hugged his little brother, holding the back of his neck. He felt something wet on his shirt, but he didn't say anything.

His brother just needed some comfort. After a few minutes, (Y/N) stopped crying. He tried to calm himself down and Dick just rubbed his shoulders.

" Are you hungry? "

(Y/N) shook his head.

" Tired? "

(Y/N) nodded his head. Dick nodded and helped (Y/N) to lay down on the bed properly. He helped him take his sneakers off and then his jacket.

" Rest up and find me in the common room if you are hungry. " Dick said, leaving the room. (Y/N) nodded and just fell asleep. Dick knew that Bruce would call later, but it wouldn't be good. Bruce and (Y/N) are kind of similar and that sometimes led to some conflicts.

But it never came to blow up like this. (Y/N) had never really done this to Bruce before.

(Y/N) woke up after a few hours, hungry and thirsty. He rubbed his eyes as he went to the kitchen. Dick was already waiting, getting ready to make some dinner. The rest of the team was on the couch and sprawled around. Raven was showing something to Beast Boy and Starfire was with Dick in the kitchen.

(Y/N) went directly to his brother, giving him a hug. Dick chuckled, ruffling his hair with his free hand. " I know you are hungry, just give me a minute. " Dick said, moving around.

" Sure. " (Y/N) said, rubbing his eyes. He let go and went to the couch. The team slowly migrated towards him, interested to talk to him. (Y/N) was answering all of their questions, happy to get some dirt on Dick.

Don't blame them, they all need some dirt on Dick. Speaking of Dick, he and Starfire just watched the interaction. It was cute.

After a few hours, Bruce came to get his son. He knew that the argument was stupid and that he was the one who started it. (Y/N) admitted that he was at fault too.

So, after some talk, they went back to Gotham.

And Dick? He was going to meet up with Tim and Jason. They need to figure out how (Y/N) was so liked by their teams. What the hell?

[writer-komaru]

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ Aura of Temptations ᙏ̤̫’’ .(‘♡°༘,*)

✧Rating: Smut + Fluff + Comfort

✧Characters: Asmodeus

✧Word Count: 5’4k

✧Summary: You find yourself suddenly pulled into Asmo’s room for an all intensive pampering session after days of not sleeping or taking care of yourself. At first you blissfully believe he’s just trying to help, but you begin to pick up on some more sexual undertones. He uses the mask of pampering to cleverly hide his true intentions of getting to third base before his brothers using some of the tactics he’s all too good at. Can you resist his seductive nature or will you tangle yourself in his velvety spider web of pleasure and have his way with you?~ ♡

“Ughhh… finally, I’m done,” You groan in relief as you close the last heavy book and place it onto a tall pile of other books, “After three fucking hours… I’ve finally done it! I’m freeee!!”

You threw your arms into the air with a tired cheer, arching your back while you’re at it to ease the aching feeling in your back. You’ve been hunched over these dusty books for what felt like a century; reading them over, writing down notes, rereading them, writing more notes, and rereading once again just in case. This so-called “academic training” Lucifer is putting you through is really testing your mental and physical capabilities. If it wasn’t for Mammon sweet talking you into a “fun family study session” just to run off, leaving it to you to pick up his slack, you would probably be out enjoying the fresh, hellish air, living your best life. But it didn’t matter to you anymore! After pulling a few all nighters and stealing a few caffeine patches from Lucifer while he was busy yelling at Satan’s cat for scratching the curtains, you completed two essays on the history of magic in Devildom, a data sheet comparing the changes in climate to the local impact of the town, and a cross word filled with all kinds of buzz words related to human culture. Lucifer explained to you how these exercises would not only strengthen important studying, reading comprehension, memory, and information gathering skills needed in everyday life, but would also help you learn more about the unfamiliar place you’ve found yourself in. And no matter how hard you begged on your knees to get out of it, he only doubled down, stating clearly that if you couldn't complete a basic essay, there was no way you were fit to be their assistant. You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from mentioning that the only tasks you have been given so far are either simple errands that require little to no brain power or basic chores you’ve already done religiously back in the human world. But once again, none of it matters now that you’re free! You quickly carry your finished work into his office and set it in the designated basket. After peeling off the caffeine patches and taking a nice, big, well deserved stretch, instead of being filled with joy once again, you’re filled with a sense of overwhelming discomfort.

“I feel I aged twenty years… guess I should just go to my room and hibernate for the next few years,” you laugh to yourself as you try to hobble back to your room. But suddenly, something stops you. You tilt your head in confusion at the strange aura coming from the stairs. After rubbing your delirious eyes, you stealthily hone in on the target, hiding strategically behind the various tables and pillars in the hallway. As you take a peek up the stairs you notice the aura seems to be coming from upstairs, trickling down the steps like an ominous cloud of smoke. What in the world could be going on up there? Isn’t everybody out taking a stroll around Devildom? At least that’s what Lucifer told you before ditching you… grrr, you’ll get him back one day. Him and Mammon, too! Anyways, back to the problem at hand. If the house should pretty much be left just to you, then what’s with all this strange aura stuff you’re seeing? You rub your eyes again, just to make sure your exhausted brain isn’t playing tricks with you, yet the aura is still there. Summoning all the courage you can muster, you carefully tip toe up the stairs. If it couldn’t get any stranger, after reaching the fifth step, the aura suddenly dissipates.

“What the…? It’s… gone?” You scratch the back of your head and shrug, “Guess it was nothing. I really need some damn sleep before I seriously start to hallucinate.”

Turning around, you begin to make your way back to your room. As soon as your hand wraps around the doorknob, you feel a sudden, light grasp on your shoulder.

“Ohh MC~ ♡” A voice draws out your name with a pleasing tone.

“GAAHHHHH!!!!” If it wasn’t for physics, you would have probably jumped 12 feet into the air. Your body spasms in surprise as you almost fall limply to the ground if it wasn’t for this mysterious intruder catching you.

“Oops! I guessed I scared you. I’m sorry, MC, hehe~♡ How did your studies go- AGHH!!!” Your tired eyes open just enough to watch Asmodeus’s face twist into a look of absolute horror, “Oh my God!! MC, You look like you haven’t slept or been outside in years!”

“I feel just as bad as I look right now…” You chuckle miserably.

“Oh my poor dear, don’t you worry! Asmo’s got you now. I’ll nurture you back to your sweet, adorable self in no time!~” He giggles to himself before sweeping you up in his arms and carrying you up stairs and to his room. The gentle yet firm hold is almost enough to make you fall asleep already. When your eyes blink open yet again, you’re greeted by the comforting atmosphere of Asmo’s gorgeous room. Such a welcoming sight… you feel your body carefully placed on a plush chair.

“Now, what to do, what to do… hmmm… ah! I have just the idea!” He exclaims and smooths a hand over your head, “I was actually planning on giving myself a pampering session today, but I think you might need it a bit more than me right now. Would you like that, MC?~ ♡” He smiled down at you and rubbed the side of your head.

“God, That would literally be so perfect… thank you so so much, Asmo,” You nod enthusiastically like a kid who’s offered a mountain high pile of toys.

“That’s great to hear~ ♡” his thumb brushes over your cheek for a few seconds before he leans even closer.

“The bath will take a few more minutes to fill up. Is there anything specifically you want me to do to pamper you?” You feel his body hover over yours, whether it’s intentional or not is beyond your mental capacity.

“I’m up for anything, really. Just something that will help me relax,” you sighed, looking up into his eyes to catch the faint glint in his eyes.

“That can certainly be arranged, no worries. I’ll do everything I can to make you feel nice today after working on all those assignments for Lucifer. Mmm, maybe you even deserve a small kiss? Hehehe, I’m just kidding~ unless you want one?” He inches his face closer to yours, laughing softly at the blush it’s beginning to develop.

“Blushing already?~ ♡” he teases.

“You’re… really close, is all,” you murmur and look away. You gasp slightly as he grabs your chin and turns you to look at him again.

“Is that really all…?~” his warm breath brushes against your skin. What was he up to… before you could get even more overwhelmed, you gently pushed him back by the shoulders.

“A little too close. Aren’t you supposed to be taking care of me, not doing… whatever this is,” you try to laugh it off but in reality your mind is racing a mile a minute.

“You’re right, my bad~ The bath should probably be ready now. There’s just one more thing left to do…” Your sleepy eyes snap open as his hands rest on your waist. He notices your reaction and softly shushes you.

“Shhh~ You’ll let me take care of you, right? In your state, I doubt you could do this on your own without falling over. May I do the honors?~ ♡” he asks with a sickeningly sweet voice that has your body strangely getting hotter. Well… he was kinda right. You wouldn’t be surprised if you toppled over just trying to stand up. He just wanted to do you a favor, and yeah, being undressed would probably be really embarrassing, but if it meant you got your needs taken care of, maybe I will be a worthy sacrifice.

You once again gathered your courage and nodded as a sigh of consent, “Yeah… just don’t get frisky or I’m telling Lucifer.”

“You have my word, even if it will be a bit hard to resist~ ♡” he chuckles softly as his fingers dip under the waistband of your shorts. There’s a certain look in his eyes, one that seems to read ‘Sit back and relax, I’ll pamper you to your heart’s content~’ but that might be what he wants you to know… either way, you couldn’t help but let out small whimpers as he slides your shorts off your ankles.

“Mmmm… these are quite pretty~♡ I’ll keep on for now,” his hungry eyes fixate on your exposed panties. Just as you’re about to swat and push him away, you sense something. That aura from before, you can feel it again, clear as day. Was that aura… coming from him all along? There’s no doubt in your mind he’s the source of it. But why? What could it be? While you’re busy deciphering the strange aura, you fail to realize your shirt is already off and folded off to the side. You come back to reality as he whispers in your ear.

“You look absolutely gorgeous like this, it’s getting a lot more difficult to restrain myself… but I can tell you’re slowly feeling the same way too, am I correct?~ ♡” he giggles devilishly.

“What do…” you don’t even have to finish that question as you feel his touch return to your sides, ever so lightly sliding up and down. The touch causes you to shiver.

“Mmm? Are you a bit sensitive, hon?” He asks in an innocent voice as his fingertips trail down to a much less innocent area. You have no idea what he’s up to but it could be sleep deprivation or the building needs pooling inside of you, whatever it is, you feel your self restraint easing away. Your face felt progressively hotter, your breathing becoming more shallow, the obvious hint begging the poor spot between your gets growing needier by the second.

‘Come on, brain! I know you’re almost dead, but please let me use a few more brain cells!’ You pleaded to yourself, ‘Think, MC, Think! Use Lucifer’s teachings as an example. What does it have in common? The aura is caused by Asmo… these symptoms happened after his touch… and… he’s the Avatar of…? That’s it!’

“Asmo, are you trying to sedu-“ before you could even admit your findings, he suddenly lifts you up into his arms once again.

“We better hurry before the bath overflows!~ ♡” Such a beautifully innocent expression… he’s hiding something, that’s for sure. You just have to stay conscious a little longer and… your breath is completely taken away as you enter his oasis of a bathroom. It looked like something you’d only see in magazines. Magnificently smooth marble pillars, cascading, translucent curtains tied back with pink roses, intricate patterned tiles all surrounding the main centerpiece of the bathroom. The bath. And it was nothing short of luxurious. It was decked out with foamy bubbles and scattered with pink rose petals. You pause for a few seconds to take in the senses around you. There’s faint, jazzy music playing from a small speaker on a vanity, the unique scent of what you could only describe as hints of strawberry and vanilla, and the soft gurgling of steamy water filling the tub. He glances over at your fascinated expression and chuckles in amusement. He steps closer to the bath and sits you down at the edge.

“Does that cute expression mean you like it?” He reaches over and turns off the tap. All you can manage is a nod, which is enough to satisfy him.

“One moment, let me prepare everything I’ll need to make you feel like your refreshed self again,” he walks over to the vanity and begins taking some things out of the draws. The moment apart gives you the chase to finally breathe. There’s something about him right now that’s both overwhelming and exciting, it’s honestly rather intiscing, but you’d never admit that. You begin to regain your ability to have rational thought. He’s definitely up to something and using his aura and physical advances to accomplish it. You gulped nervously. If his aura really is what you think it is, you don’t know how much longer you’ll be able to resist it. And if the rest of the guys even just find out about the fact he undressed you, you’d never hear the end of it. You jump as Asmo happily strunts back to you, laying a tray of numerous goodies on the edge of the bath. You whine internally as all your rational thoughts seem to go back out on vacation, right when you needed them most.

“Hon, can you look into my eyes for a second?~” His alluring voice causes your dilated eyes to meet his equally, if not even more, dilated eyes. Everything about this felt like a fever dream…

“I know it’s all going pretty quickly for you, but I want to pause for a moment to ask for your permission to take the rest off. I’ll only do it if you want me to,” his voice has a new sense of worry in it that has your heart skipping a beat. This is your chance, you can finally confront him on his sneaky actions! You can remind him how upset everyone would be with him for seeing you in nothing but your bra and panties. But instead… you say, “Yeah… I want that.”

His gaze is unwavering, searching for any major signs of appreciation. After a few seconds, he relents and returns to his cheeky smiling self.

“Thank you for this opportunity… I definitely won’t take it for granted~ ♡” He leans over you and runs his hands in circles over your hips. This tease, it’s like he could read you like a fucking picture book. How did he know your hips were sensitive? How did he know you always shiver when he whispers into your ears? How did he know the effect his prolonged gaze on your body has on your heart? Oh, he wasn’t just a tease, he was the Avatar of Lust. He knew how to get people worked up and he was clearly exploiting his knowledge to use it against you.

“Mmph!” You bit your lip to hold back your noises as he began to pull down your panties. Was this really happening? Was this even okay? You felt like you were at a boiling point. If he caught even a glimpse at the absolute mess you were down there, you’re absolutely sure his little teasing game would only get worse. And worse it did.

“Wooowww~ ♡ look at that…” He licked his lips at the strings of liquid desire that clung from your aching cunt to the wet spot left in your panties. If humiliation was a grain of samd, you were a fucking desert right now. You whined in embarrassment but couldn't hold back how your pussy twitched.

“You’re even wetter than I could have ever hoped you’d be… mmmm… and how you keep twitching, I think you like this too. What a naughty girl you are… ♡” he kisses your cheek and traces a finger down your lower stomach, “but, I like that about you~ ♡”

Just as his finger gets mere inches away from your swollen clit, he feels your hips twitch away. He smirks and takes his hand away.

“Your gorgeous body almost made me forget why I brought you here~ Silly me, can’t have this getting wet, either~ ♡” you gasp as he lips your bra and sets it to the side. When he looks back over at you, he sees your hands desperately trying to cover your breasts. He finds it both amusing and adorable.

“Go ahead and slide into the bath. Tell me if it’s too warm or cold for you and I’ll adjust the temperature if needed,” he gives you a playful wink as you turn your back to him and hop in the bath. As soon as the warm, soapy water envelops your skin, you’re unable to suppress your moan in time. How could you not, this water felt incredible to your poor, sore muscles and aching body. You let your body rest against the edge as the intoxicating smell made you dizzy.

“Ahhh… hah….” You panted.

“Does it feel good?~ You definitely look like you’re enjoying yourself. Mind if… I join?~ ♡” You heard his sultry voice whisper in your ear as he joins you in the bath. You glance over at him. He’s… he’s n-naked too? As if this situation couldn’t get any more lewd, he sits down in front of your spread legs.

He strokes your cheek softly, “Your mind looks like it’s not quite here… how cute. ♡ I think you’ve waited long enough for your promised pampering. Just sit back and relax~ You’re in capable hands~ ♡”

That’s the last thing you remember hearing from him as your exhausted brain finally takes a well needed break, just for a while. You have just enough consciousness left to feel the numerous amounts of face masks, creams, rollers, and much more he uses on you. Compared to his touch from before that was practically quaking with desire, his touch now was a lot more gentle and loving. He fussed over each and every detail of your face mask, adjusting them to fit your face perfectly. Sooner or later, he began to soak some rich soap into your messy hair and gently scratch at your scalp. It felt so nice to be taken care of, to be loved after putting yourself through hell and back. You weren’t surprised in the slightest when you opened your eyes to see him presenting you a cup of tea. Did you just… fall asleep?

“Good morning, darling. You fell asleep while I was washing your hair so I decided to give you a break while I made you some tea. It should give you back some of your missing entertainment,” he set the teacup in your heads and rubbed a hand over your shoulder, “I know this has been a lot for you, so please take it easy. I wouldn’t wanna push you past your comfort zone,” he cooed sweetly.

You didn’t even realize how thirsty you were until the tea slipped down your throat. It tasted wonderful, like a flurry of peaches and mint. It wasn’t long until you finished the whole cup and sat it down on the tray with the leftover supplies.

“Heheh, good. How do you feel? A little less tired, I hope?” He soothed.

“Mhm… yeah, I’m feeling a lot better, actually,” you rub the sleep from your eyes.

“That’s wonderful, I’m glad~ now that you’re awake, it might be time to move to the main event~ ♡” he chucked.

“Main event…? What d-does… that mean?” You shivered, fainting innocence.

“Well, how can I call this a true pampering session until I give you… a little bit of a massage, hm? Would that feel nice on all your aches and pains?” His tantalizing touch drifted all the way from your shoulders to down on your thighs, “I’m assuming your body has been aching for some touch for quite a while, hasn’t it?”

Your breathing grew more and more uneven as his aura filled your mind with a desire… a desire for him. For his touch, “yeah… I… I feel strange...”

“Oh? Strange how? Does it hurt?” He hum’s curiously as his thumbs massage the muscles of your thighs.

“N-no, it... Aghh…you… you know what it is…” You look away out of embarrassment from his blatant teasing.

“Mmm? Could it be… a need, of sorts? ♡” His thumbs circle over your inner thigh.

“Hahh… agh… yeah… like… a need… a strong need,” you felt your pussy fluttering around nothing as his touch only got closer, “why… are you… doing this…?”

“It’s simple… It's because I love you, hon. More than anything I can name… more than I can even understand. I have this urge inside of me whenever I see you. It wants you, all of you. And now…” a strange pink smoke begins to swirl around him as his eyes glow brightly, “I get you all to myself~ ♡” You watch helplessly as he sprouts wings and horns, grinning sinisterly at you. Your breather quickens as he more roughly squeezes your thighs just to hear you whine. He leans in, so close you might just lose your mind, “I know how badly you need me too. I can practically smell it~ want me to help you? Relieve that desire that’s burning under your skin?~ ♡”

His dirty words made you whine. There’s no way you could resist him, not in this form. You’ll just have to deal with the problems later because right now you just want this demon in front of you to do whatever he wants with you.

“I think I know a certain spot that’s been begging for my attention ever since I saw those cute panties~ ♡ let’s see if I can fix that…” his wild eyes look below the crystal clear water as his delicate fingers spread your pussy wide open. Your shift around uncomfortably at being so open to the water swirling around you. As soon as you feel the sinful press of his pointer finger and middle finger against your clit, you stifle a moan and twitch your hips eagerly.

“Oh, someone’s excited, hm? Is it because of me… or maybe the spell I’ve cast on you? ♡ Maybe both~” he giggles to himself.

Spell? Is that what all the aura was- Your train of thought vanishes completely as his fingers rub small circles against your swollen bud.

“Nghh… ahh.. oh fuck….” You whine as you pussy clenches even more. It already feels like so much, but you so desperately wanted to beg for some stimulation to your cunt too. Your wish would soon be granted as you feel his two fingers slide down to your cunt and rub it up and down, making sure to continue rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb.

“Is that better?~ Even in the water I can feel how slick you are. You must like this a lot, hm? Hehe, I don’t think I even need to ask~ ♡” his fingers slowly and carefully pushed inside your twitching hole.

“Aaghhh… f-fuck… oh god, Asmo.. agh…” you’re reduced to a whining, shivering mess as his fingers explore the insides of your pussy. And they were so talented too. They immediately knew the exact gummy spot inside of you to rub to make your eyes roll back. It just felt too good, you couldn’t do anything but moan and twitch. You wanted more but you were also scared of what more would feel like. His wrist started to quickly flick his fingers in and out of your trembling pussy, jabbing right against your g-spot and pressing harder on your clit. You felt like your body wasn’t even your wit control anymore, you were totally at his mercy.

“Mmmphhh… you’re clenching on me so tightly, and it’s so warm~ ♡ I could just do this forever…” he sighed dreamily as his motions sped up. How could he keep such a relaxed face while you were fucking fighting for your life? It felt like your senses were on fire, like your cunt was ready to cum at any second.

“Ready to cum so early? Hehe, I don’t blame you, I’m quite good at this. After all, I’m the Avatar of Lust. I can make you feel things no other demon can ever dream of making you feel. Hehehe~ ♡ How about I make a deal… I’ll let you cum as many times as you want if you chose me and only me instead of my brothers. How about that? Doesn’t that sound fantastic~ ♡♡”

It does sound rather tempting, but you could care less about deals right now. The only thing you want is to cum, cum around his skilled fingers. If that meant being his forever, then that’s just a plus.

“Aaghh p-please… I’m yours, only yours. Please Asmo, I need to cum so badly… I can’t hold it much longer..” you cried out.

He smiles devilishly, “Perfect answer, my love… go on, let go of everything and release all that cum for me…♡ cum for your demon~ ♡”

The final thread of restraint snaps as you moan desperately, squeezing on his fingers so good he feels his dick twitch in anticipation.

“Aghh… hahhh… oh god… that… that was amazing… felt amazing….” You heaved in between each word as you lay limp against the edge of the bath. The post orgasm bliss felt like heaven but it was quickly ripped away from you as Asmo’s fingers contributed to thrust you open.

“Gah, w-what, n-no hurts please, please no more… Aghh…” it didn’t take long for the pain to melt into mouth watering pleasure as he stimulated your poor little clit over and over again.

“Mmm I think you’re pretty much ready to take me now… that is if you wanna. I can keep fingering you if that’d make you feel best, cutie~” he playfully licked the outer shell of your ear.

Even though his fingers felt like heaven, you could only imagine how good his dick would feel. Would it feel even better? Oh you just had to give it a try~ You lean back and wrap your legs around his waist.

“Hehehe someone’s eager, huh? Aghh… I’ll try to be gentle… just don’t squeeze too hard or else I might break that promise~ ♡” He snickered as he lifted your hips up and angled his throbbing dick to your overstimulated cunt. You mind raced with ideas of how big he could be but as soon as you felt his head rub against your entrance you could already feel your legs beginning to give out. He’s… pretty big…

He smirked at the worry in your eyes, “Are worried I’ll hurt your tight little cunt or I’ll make you feel so good you won’t be able to get off without my dick?~ ♡ just i’ll have to figure it out as me go~ ♡” without very much of a warning, you felt the head slip in past your entrance to right against that sweet spot of yours. And holy fuck we’re you enjoying it. Even though he warned you, he was too big, you had no choice but to squeeze him like your life depended on it.

“Aaghhh… p-please sweetie, loosen up or else I can’t go deeper… damn it I wanna fuck you so bad… ♡” he grit is teeth in agony and pleasure. He brought a quick finger to your clit and gave it some deep rubs, thankfully coaxing a moan out and letting you loosen up for him a little. His hips snapped forward again and again and again, each time he made sure to hit your g-spot straight on.

“Aaaagghhh Asmo I can’t I can’t it’s too much!!!~” you wailed as you felt another orgasm approaching.

“My dear please… you’re squeezing so fucking hard you’re going to… drive me crazy!~ ♡♡” he dug his nails deep into your plush hips and thrusted into you at such a fast rhythm it left you right at the edge.

“Aghhhh I’m going to break… s-slow down, my pussy is going to die!!!~” you cling onto the mable for dear life as the demon drilled into you from behind. It felt so lewd but it also felt like heaven~ yet you still needed more, “pleaseeee Asmo I’m begging you I need more!~”

“Still need more?~ ♡ can’t wait to get to that edge?” He teased in your ear with a chuckle.

“Pleaseeee I’d do anything please make me cum again~” You cried out, unable to even process the words fully before they left you mouth.

“I.. agh… think I got just the idea.. brace yourself… for the might of the avatar of lust~ ♡” He stayed thrusting into you even faster but that wasn’t the main focus. No, because when you began to feel a strange vibration sensation emerge from his dick, tremouring right against your cervix you were just wailing, you were screaming.

“Oh gods, oh gods this can’t be real… asagghhhhhhh!!~ why is it vibrating so hard?!!~ how.. how is it even doing that?!!” You didn’t know if you were more scared or excited by this new discovery. All you knew is your pussy was twitching like crazy against the sinful vibrations wracking through his clock and right against your sensitive walls and clit.

“The avatar of lust has more than a few tricks up his sleeve to make just about anyone come undone on my dick~ ♡ you’ll find out soon enough if you’d like, hon~ ♡ Ahh… just… let me fuck that tight pussy nice and hard~ ♡” your back arched on command as he growled in your ear. Moans and grunts left your lips like a constant prayer, it’s just too fucking good, way more than a human like her should be able to handle. That was until Asmo finally snapped and flipped her around so ass was in full display for him. She didn’t even bother asking what was going on, just moaning and begging for more of his vibrating dick. He mounted her and quickly remained fucking her pussy into oblivion. The change of position allowed him to directly assault her poor, poor absurd cervix. Each snap of his hips against her ass sent electricity straight to her pussy which was dying to cum from all the extreme vibrations.

“Aaghhh Ahh Ahh AGHHH AGHHH!!~” Her moans grew louder and louder as she got closer to cumming, “I’m close so fucking close please just ruin me-“ suddenly, there was a series of stomping footsteps and opening and slamming of doors. They were all home already?! Shit, why now!? Right when you’re on the brink of one of the best orgasms in your life!! As you turned around to give Asmo a sad look, you were greeted with a smirk. Don’t tell me. His thrusts went faster and faster and faster until the water started to splash out of the bath and onto the floor.

“Waaaittttt we're gunna get caught aaghhhh!!!~” your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Don’t matter to me… I’ve been aching for sex with you for way to damn long to stop now~ ♡ Come on, give them a nice loud moan~ let them know who you belong to~ tell them who fucks you’re beautiful, tight pussy the best!~ ♡” He bends your back into a perfect arch, only applied by the intense lust magic he forces into you.

“Aaaagghhh!~~ AAAAGGHHHHHH ASMOOOOOOO DOESSSS!!!~” You released a loud scream as you came yet again, shivering pathetically. Your eyes screwed together as his passion fucking didn’t even hesitate. You were losing your damn mind and basking in it.

“Let’s keep going… until we finally get caught~♡” he laughed wildly, clearly getting drunk off your pussy. But you were just as drunk off of his dick too.~ You nodded in agreement and continued moaning like he’s rearranging your guts. It felt so good, so, so deliciously good. You never wanted this to stop.

Sure enough, the door creaked open, revealing the first unlucky person to witness the lust-filled display that the two of them were putting on. Their jaw dropped open at the sight of a wildly out of control Asmo practically bending you in half and slamming into you at such a furious pace you just couldn't stop cumming. His erotic magic surged through your veins as you kept shouting, moan after moan, dirtying the water with your combined cum. Your face was permanently twisted into a lewd expression as you felt your whole body alight in a constant explosion of pleasure from his none stop fucking and overwhelming magic.

“Agaghhhhhhhhh~” You sobbed out in bliss.

“If… you want us to stop… you’re going to have to kill me~ ♡” Asmodeus flashed the intruder a spine chilling death stare and groaned in pleasure as he plunged in deeper.

Reblog + Like + Comment if you wanna see even more obey me or Asmo in specific posts (hehehehe I had a lotta fun writing this I’m such a simp for asmo I hope I did him justice <3)

(I’ve been writing for like 8 hours with no hours of sleep I think I might take a break tomorrow. I’ll make a poll for my next post in a few days or so, I need to recharge)

[bradleysass]

Alien - @black-brothers-microfic - Word Count: 734 - Starchaser + Sirus

James Potter loved many things about Regulus Black. He loved the way his boyfriend’s hands danced as he talked, weaving through the air like he was casting spells. He loved the way Regulus looked at him when he thought no one else was watching, his steel-grey eyes softening into something intimate and unspoken. But there was one thing James absolutely could not stand: Regulus’ obsession with conspiracies.

“I’m just saying,” Regulus said for the third time that night, leaning forward with the kind of intensity James usually associated with Quidditch finals. “There’s no way Area 51 is just some boring military base. Have you seen the leaked footage?”

“Yes, you made us watch it last week,” Sirius groaned, sprawled across James and the couch like a particularly dramatic cat. “Twice.”

“It’s not even good footage,” James added, nudging Sirius’ shoulder to reclaim some personal space. “Just a bunch of blurry lights. It could be anything. Drones. Weather balloons. Your imagination on a particularly caffeinated night.”

Regulus glared at him, looking deeply offended. “You’re so close-minded. That’s exactly what they want you to think.”

“Who’s ‘they’?” Sirius asked, exasperated. “The government? The Illuminati? The little green men themselves?”

“It’s all connected,” Regulus said, and James swore he could see the gears in his boyfriend’s brain turning. “Area 51, the moon landing, Roswell—it’s part of a larger cover-up. They’ve been hiding extraterrestrial contact for decades.”

James exchanged a look with Sirius, who mouthed, Help me.

“Reg, love,” James began, carefully. “Even if there are aliens out there, why would they want to visit us? Earth isn’t exactly winning any awards right now. Have you seen the state of the world?”

“Exactly,” Regulus said, pointing at James like he’d just proven his point. “Why else would they keep us in the dark? Maybe they’re worried we’d screw it up for them.”

“That’s… kind of flattering, actually,” Sirius muttered, but he was clearly over the conversation. He slid off the couch and stretched. “I’m going to make tea. Or vodka. Whatever gets me through this night.”

Regulus watched him leave with an irritated huff, then turned back to James. “You believe me, don’t you?”

James sighed. He hated disappointing Regulus, but he also couldn’t pretend to be as invested in intergalactic conspiracies as his boyfriend was. “I think you’re brilliant, and I love how passionate you are about this stuff. But I… don’t really buy it.”

For a moment, Regulus looked like James had just kicked a puppy. Then his expression shifted into something more mischievous. “Fine. I’ll prove it to you.”

James blinked. “Prove what?”

“That they’re hiding something at Area 51.”

“Oh, no,” James said, already regretting his life choices. “No, no, no. Whatever you’re thinking, stop thinking it.”

Regulus stood, grabbing his laptop and a notebook that was already filled with a concerning amount of scrawled notes. “We’ll plan a trip. Sirius can come too, if he’s not too busy making tea or vodka. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Absolutely not,” James said, but Regulus was already lost in his plans. James turned toward the kitchen, where Sirius was returning with two mugs of tea and an impressively resigned expression.

“He’s planning a trip to Area 51, isn’t he?” Sirius asked, handing James a mug.

“He’s planning a trip to Area 51,” James confirmed.

Sirius groaned, loud and dramatic. “If we get arrested for trespassing in Nevada, I’m blaming you.”

James sighed and took a sip of tea, already dreading the inevitable chaos. But when he looked at Regulus, who was scribbling furiously in his notebook and muttering about government cover-ups, James couldn’t help but smile. Sure, his boyfriend’s obsession with conspiracies drove him mad, but it was also part of what made Regulus so uniquely him.

And if that meant planning a completely ridiculous trip to Area 51, well… James had faced scarier things in his life.

“Fine,” he said, loud enough for Regulus to hear. “Let’s do it. Let’s raid Area 51.”

Regulus’ head shot up, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Really?”

“Really,” James said, already bracing himself for the adventure ahead.

Sirius groaned again, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. “This is going to be a disaster.”

“Probably,” James agreed. But as Regulus beamed at him, James figured there were worse ways to spend his time than chasing conspiracies with the people he loved.

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 31 - "It's not your fault."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A/N: Based on the setting created through Prompt 14 and its Reblogs. Not necessarily to read beforehand but it might give a little context. I tried to go with a more Halloween themed short story hope that worked out.

"Damian this mission has the highest priority any mission or case ever had before." Dick was clutching a glaring Damians shoulders who was now raising an eyebrow like his elder brother had lost his mind.

"Richard, this is ridiculous." He commented, crossing his arms.

"I am serious Dami, we can not fail with this." The elder stressed more. If it were any other situation than this then Damian might have taken Dick more seriously but as it was. His elder brother was pleading with him, dressed in a ridiculous Vampire outfit after having forced Damian into an outfit that was clearly a mockery towards his old league gear. It was a simple ninja costume Dick was making him wear.

"Please Dami! You don't want to get black listed for a month like Bruce or Tim, right? Jason is going to do this if we ruin their first Halloween in Gotham!" The younger's eyes narrowed.

"Do not place me on the same level as Drake. I will not lose any rights towards my nieces and nephews like he did." He huffed as he looked away stubbornly from his elder brother. Damian was not foolish enough to repeat the same mistakes some members of his family have made. He was not going to let his nephews even touch coffee or any caffeinated drink in the first place.

Besides the incident with Jasmine and their father was a whole different matter. It was their fathers own fault for unconsciously challenging his niece and disregarding her talent in analyzing one's mindset, Todd had mentioned once.

"I just want to make sure! Jason has become so protective of the kids and I do not want to lose favorit uncle's privileges!" Damian's eye twitched as he shoved away his elder brother with his hand placed in the other's face. "You must be delusional Richard. I seem to remember that I was the favorite uncle of the twins."

Before Dick could counter Damian the front door opened and the two saw Jason enter the manor with the crime twins on either side of him and the toddler in his arms. The second eldest raised an eyebrow at them before glancing down towards the twins.

"Hey Little Wing, right on time! Where is Jazz?" Dick greeted them cheerfully, bending down a little to wave at Ellie that was blowing a raspberry in his direction. He was probably imaging it but it looked like the little girl was glaring at him.

"Already dropped her off with her school friends, I will pick her up tomorrow afternoon. It's her sibling free day, remember?" Jason only raised an eyebrow also noting the frown the twins were sporting at seeing Dick.

Dick nodded, turning towards the twins. Did he imagine it or did one of the boy's whisper fruitloop to the other. "Ready for your first Trick or Treat in Gotham? We gotta collect all the candy for you two that we can!"

"Sure." Dick was hoping for more enthusiasm from the boy's but maybe that would come once they got their first candies bagged. "You two look interesting, what are you going as?"

"Frankenstein." The two answered simultaneously before glaring at each other and Dick sweatdropped. One of the boy's was dressed like a mad scientist with a white coat and welding goggles strapped to his head as well as some broken medical equipment clearly made visible. The other boy looked more like a monster with ripped clothing, fake bolds glued to his neck and drawn stitches all over his visible skin that was coloured slightly greenish.

"Wow you both did a good job! The monster looks just like in the movies." Dick tried in hopes

"I see. So Daniel is Doctor Frankenstein while Dante is Frankenstein's monster." The twins looked up towards Damian, the glare lost for a moment before they turned on each other again.

"See Uncle Dick said it! When someone says Frankenstein they think of the Monster, twerp!"

"Nuhu! Uncle Damian got it! He knew I was the Doctor and not the monster!"

"And Jazz just got them to stop arguing about that shit." Jason muttered with a glare towards Dick before the twins could devolve any further into their argument Jason stepped towards the side where Alfred had appeared and was heading over the now bubbling little girl that was making grabby hand towards the butler. He then turned towards the boys.

"Okay you two. Remember today's rules." He clapped his hand for more effect and to get the two to look at him. Which sort of worked as they still gave each other side eyed glares but nodded regardless. "Good and remember no crimes today, enjoy your fun and do not stuff yourself with candies."

"Okay Dad." The twins answered in sync before Jason literally pushed them towards Dick and Damian and out the Manors front door. They were the ones taking the twins out for a Trick or Treat run as their first Halloween in Gotham. Jason was going to hang back with Alfred to take care of Ellie.

Dick had volunteered doing this for his brother a couple weeks before Jason had wondered what he was going to do with the kids for Halloween. Dick had also instantly volunteered Damian for it two. Their youngest brother wasn't that much older than the twins yet and they surely would feel more comfortable with two known family members around.

An hour in and Dick was moments away from admitting that he made a grave mistake.

"Dami! Have you seen Danny?!" Jason was going to murder them if they lost one of his kids. So Dick was rightfully slightly panicked. He had taken his eyes of the boy for only a moment to check something on his phone.

"You have lost Daniel?" The youngest Wayne looked miffed at him and had a slight glare before though Dick noticed something else in his eyes too. "Damian, where is Dan?"

The younger clicked his tongue and Dick paled slightly. Okay no big deal, they temporarily lost the crime twin. He had found and followed Danny before, surely he would be able to find the boy in the crowd of disguised children too. Danny went with a mad scientist costume. How many of them were running around? It would be more difficult to find Dan, he had spotted a couple of different Frankensteins already.

"Jason is going to blacklist us, isn't he?" Dick muttered his eyes wandering over every child he could see going from door to door for candies. Damian doing the same even watching other adults and parents in case one of them had the idea to snatch his nephews from them.

"It won't be as bad as Drake and father." Damian commented as a form of consolation to his elder brother but knew it probably would. Jason blacklisted Tim from watching the kids for the caffeine incident for a month and their father was still blacklisted until Jazz felt like talking to the man again, the twins in solidarity to their sister doing the same.

"Should we split up? But what if they are looking for us? Oh good what if one of the rogues snatched them up? Or worse, some leftover guys from that damned organization?" From the corner of his eyes Damian saw how his elder brother was getting worked up and even though he wasn't showing it, he too was worried. This certainly was not how they had hoped the boy's first Halloween with them would go.

In a decorative street tree on the side of the path Dick and Damian were on sat two boy's one munching on a licorice stick while the other was nibbling on chocolate. Both were invisible just in case their uncle decided to look up.

"Fake blood next?" Danny asked as he watched Dick starting to pace.

"Not yet. Did Dad mention anything about the firecrackers?" Dan asked in return as he bite of another piece of his licorice stick.

"Not that I remember, tho Jazz said to go easy on Uncle Dick." Danny hummed tilting his head slightly with a frown. "But he lost that privilege looking like the fruitloop. You got one of Dad's fake guns right?"

"Why? Didn't you say you wanted to 'fake' stab yourself with the broken syringe?" Dan raised an eyebrow as Danny gave him a feral grin. "You recovered your shape shifting power, right?"

Dan returned the feral grin with one of his own understanding what kind of prank Danny was hinting at. "For once, I like the way you're thinking, twerp."

"Would you stop calling me that! We are the same age now!" Danny pouted as he stuffed the last of his chocolate in his mouth and prepared to jump off the tree.

"Never!" Dan quickly answered with a laugh as he took the lead and jumped off the tree and disappeared into the crowds first as he let go of his invisibility. Danny quickly followed doing the same. They had after all a lot more pranks planned to play on their uncles.

The evening ended with Dick and Damian making their way into the Manor through the bat cave entrance so that they could get to the Medbay before Jason saw the twins. Both looked rather disheveled and like they had gotten dragged through mud. What they didn't expect was Jason, being in the cave and looking at them with raised eyebrows. Dick was holding Dan who was literally growling as Dick was pressing a bundle of tissues against the boy's nose. There was a ripped strip of his vampire costume tied around Dan's arm, a line of dried 'blood' going down the arm.

Damian was holding Danny. The boy looked dizzy, holding his head with one hand while he whined about everything being to bright, the goggles of his costume were cracked and the white coat now had red 'blood' strains, the shirt he was wearing also appeared to be soaked in 'blood' and there was a tried spot of blood below Danny's nose like he also had had a nose bleed like his twin.

"What happened?" Jason's tone sounded neutral and Dick laughed nervously.

"It looks worse than it is…" He tried to salvage, maybe they could still save their nephew watching privileges.

"Really?"

"It's Richard's fault. He lost sight of Danny first." Dicks head whipped around towards Damian who just decided to throw him under the bus. A look of betrayal crossed the eldest face at the narrowed stare Damian was giving him. "The situation spiraled from there."

"No wait! Damian lost Dan! It's not just my fault!" He tried to defend himself as Jason's eyes narrowed on him. But before he could come up with any more reasons why it was not just his fault and that they should not lose any of their uncle privileges because of that…

…Jason started laughing, wheezing out a "It's not your fault."

Confused Dick blinked before Dan jumped out of his hands the same time Danny jumped out of Damians. Suddenly the kids appeared like nothing was wrong as they rushed over towards Jason. Hadn't Danny been dizzy until now? And Dan had complained and growled at him about a headache?

He glanced at Damian who was watching the twins with narrowed eyes.

"Well looks like you two had a lot of fun." They watched how Jason patted the twins' heads grinning at them as the boy's sported proud looks, like they were pleased with themselves. "Your Auntie Babs is making a highlight reveal for the entire family later. Till then go wash up and bug one of your other uncles or aunts."

"Can I go bug Uncle Tim! I got an new invention idea when Uncle Dick got chased by the dogs!"

"I want to find Aunt Harper."

"Sure both should be in the Manor by now. Just wash up first." With the boy's sent away it left the two adults and teen in the batcave. One of them gabbing like fish, the other glaring with narrowed eyes and the last of them still chuckling.

"Todd." Damian hissed and Dick knew that tone. Damian was promising revenge on Jason.

"Light up brat. The twins needed an outlet and Jazz suggested they could pull some pranks today, I just told them that with you two they could go all out."

Dick wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or be slightly mad at his brother for that but eventually he decided to go with relief. "So we are not losing uncle privileges, good."

"You two are still getting blacklisted for two weeks."

"WHAT?"

"I demand a reason."

"You tried taking them with you on patrol and you gave them blade training. They are six."

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

which turtle do you think can handle spice? lol i made some spicyx2 ramen for dinner and both my parents asked me if this was food or nuclear war fare, they got scared of how red the ramen broth was lol

Spicy Food (Headcanon)

A/N: The lucky wheel decided on the 03 boys for this one, so here we go💚 I myself am very bad with spicy food, like it's really bad. Like, if the food does as much as touches anything spicy, I can’t eat it. But I think the guys generally would have a way better time handling it💚

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Leonardo:

Leo does pretty well with spicy food. He’s used to Splinter’s spicy noodle soup, and was always the angel that ate everything his father made for him, without complaining. Not that he ever complained. According to his taste buds, all of Splinter’s cooking was amazing.

When Mikey started taking over in the kitchen, Leo could not help but find the food a little… What is the right word? Uhm… bland? But don't get him wrong, Leo loves his little brother’s cooking, but he did prefer his father’s addition of spice to the food. It just that feeling in his mouth that reminded him of childhood.

Although Leo is a terrible cook, and has been ordered by his whole family to never touch the stove or the oven, Leo did know how to use the kettle for tea, and the microwave for making leftovers. But he also knew how to make instant cup noodles as a snack, often finding himself gravitating towards the extra spicy once. But even then, he often finds that they aren’t spicy enough, and adds a little more himself.

Raphael:

Raph has a love hate relationship with spicy food. On one hand he loves spicy snacks, but on the other he isn’t a big fan of warm and spicy meals. As a child it had almost caused several meltdowns at the dinner table, back when Raph didn’t have the words to clearly explain to Splinter that the noodle soup was causing him middle discomfort.

Raph could not explain it. It was as if the heat from the food made the spice so much stronger, to a point where he just couldn’t eat it. Even as a teenager and as an adult, he would let the soup cool down for a bit, before finally feeling comfortable enough to eat it.

But funnily enough, Raph LOVES spicy snacks. Chili chips or at least some kind of spicy dip with his chips, and this guy would be happy.

Raph once shared some of his chips with Casey, not thinking they were so strong. But neither Raph or April had ever seen someone run so fast to the fridge for milk, giving Raph a hint that his snacks may be spicier than he first thought.

Donatello:

No one knew for sure, but there was this theory in the Hamato family, that Donnie’s taste buds were immune to pain. Donnie did not seem to care if his food was spicy or not. The important thing for him was that it tasted good, and that the texture didn’t make him run for the hills.

Leo had long speculated that it came from years of caffeine addiction, but that did not explain how seemed to have shown the same behavior, years before he even tried coffee for the first time. Spicy food just didn’t bother Donatello.

With that being said, it’s worth mentioning a time where Donnie’s spice tolerance really came to show. One day, an absolutely sleep deprived Donnie had made himself a cup of coffee, but in his sleepy state, he had added hot sauce to his drink, instead of the milk. The horror on his brothers’ faces when he took a sip, and went as far as to say that it even tasted better than usual, before he went back to work in his lab.

Michelangelo:

Mikey had never been a picky eater, but if there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was spicy food. It had been like that since… pretty much forever. Sure, Mikey could eat mildly spicy things, but he just had a taste for more sweet things.

Mikey’s food making was therefore obviously less spicy than Splinter’s. But just because his food was less spicy, it didn’t make it any less good. Mikey’s cooking was amazing, even if Leo seemed to miss the good old days, where his mouth was about to burn off.

But Mikey’s mild intolerance for spicy food, gave Raph a great opportunity for a prank. One day while Mikey wasn’t looking, Raph added one of his spicy chips to Mikey’s already opened bag of salty chips. The scream that followed when Mikey then unexpectedly bit into that one chip, was so loud that people on the street above looked around in confusion. It was no surprise that all of Donnie’s milk suddenly disappeared after that, having been drunk by a hysteric Mikey that desperately tried to kill the fire in his mouth.