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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 3 days ago

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Something that's ours

Written for round one of the @steddiebingo

Prompt: Basketball

Rated: T

Tags: Modern AU; No UD AU; Steve is Dustin’s dad; Established relationship; Moving in together; Domestic fluff; Found family; Sexual innuendo

Notes: Happy birthday, @thefreakandthehair! It's the Someone who cares boys! It's basketball! It's for you! Hope you have the greatest of days! 🥰

“So,” Robin’s voice crackles over the speakers. The car is a little older and a lot less less fancy than the one Steve used to drive, and he's still getting used to the tinny sound. “That's it, then? You sold the penthouse?”

“Yup,” Steve agrees. “Signed and sealed.”

“How do you feel about that?”

He hums in thought.

“Dunno. I thought it would feel different. I've lived in that place since I got out of college. Dustin made his first steps in the living room. But now that it's gone … It's weird, but all I feel is relief.”

“I don't think that's weird at all,” she says. “That place never really felt like yours.”

“You're right.” Now that the glass and chrome of the skyscrapers outside has made way to the smaller houses and green lawns of his new neighborhood, he feels like he can breathe more freely. “My dad got that place for the son he wanted, not for me. It feels good to finally get rid of it.”

“I'm happy for you, dingus.” Even with the tinny speakers, he can hear the fondness in her words. “Any plans for the shitload of money you got for the place? You gonna treat Eddie to a romantic luxury cruise? Propose on the beach at sunset?”

“Very funny,” he quips, turning into their new street. He's been thinking about proposing an awful lot lately, but she doesn't need to know that yet. “Most of it is going into our savings. God knows we'll need it until I fall back on my- Jesus fucking Christ!”

The tires screech as he slams on the brakes and the car grinds to a stop at the edge of the driveway.

“What?” Robin shrieks. “What is it? Are you okay?”

It takes Steve a moment to tear his eyes away from the sight behind his windscreen.

“I'm fine,” he mumbles when he finally does. “I’ll call you back.”

Then, without waiting for a reply, he disconnects the call and climbs out of the car.

“Eddie? What the fuck are you doing?”

Eddie, perched atop the large folding ladder that's inches away from his bumper, glares down at him, like an angry, curly-haired gargoyle.

“The question is what are you doing? Trying to kill me? Because that's how you kill a guy, Stevie!”

Steve has half a mind to reply that this is how a guy gets himself killed, wobbling around on ladders in the middle of driveways, but he's way to confused. He didn't even know they owned a ladder.

Then again, he also didn't know they owned a basketball hoop, yet here they are.

“Why are you mounting a basketball hoop to our wall?” he asks dumbly. “You don't even like basketball.”

“You wound me,” Eddie pouts as he clambers off the ladder. His hair is tied away from his face with a bandana, his cut-off band shirt is sticky with sweat and there's a screwdriver sticking from his back pocket. Steve wants to bite him. “I said you'd never catch me playing, but I don't mind watching. And besides, we're a good, honest suburban family now. You gotta throw hoops in the driveway.”

Steve is about to open his mouth to ask if he's met Dustin, because the kid wouldn't touch a basketball if his life depended on it. But that is when Eddie picks up the ball he had lying by the garage door and presses it into his hands, and it clicks.

“Wait, what? Is this for me?”

Eddie shrugs. “You said you always wanted one growing up, didn't you?”

Steve nods, a bit dumbfounded. It's true. He always wanted one, but his father said it would damage the facade and ruin the appearance of the house.

“The beauty of having your own place,” says Eddie, leaning over the ball for a long, lingering kiss, “is that nobody gets to tell you what you can and can't do, right?”

“Right,” Steve says. He knows he's grinning like an idiot, but he can't stop it. Not like he wants to. He wants to take this house and make it a home, wants to fill it with all the things that are unabashedly theirs. His sports equipment and Dustin’s science stuff and Eddie's books. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome, sweetheart.” Eddie wipes his flushed face with the hem of his shirt, grinning at the way Steve's gaze catches on the naked stretch of his chest and stomach. “Now, Dustin won't be home from school for another hour or two. How about you try this out, work up a bit of a sweat … and then we hit the shower together? There's some other balls I wouldn't mind playing with.”

More Steddie Bingo

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie bingo #hype's steddie bingo

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nanenna · 3 days ago

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I really like this prompt! I've seen one version already that has me hooked, but I'm contemplating something a bit different.

What if Danny is lying, just a little bit? What if he's still just fine, completely hunky dorey, not in any danger of melting. But Dani, on the other hand...

A clone of a clone. Both done by people who aren't experts in the field, who didn't and still don't know all the ins and outs. Unstable and already prone to melting, the ecto-dejecto is just a bandaid.

Dani's back in Vlad's lab, the man doing his best to keep her stable. For now. Vlad has no idea who Danny is a clone of, and Danny wants to keep it that way. It's why he went to Gotham all on his own, he's trying to keep them separate.

The favor he's going to owe Vlad after this leaves Danny cringing. But Dani's worth it, she'd be worth it even if Danny did have somewhere else to go. Jazz is too young to gain custody of Danny, no one else in Amity would take in the son of the local mad scientists, no one else knew he was a halfa and had easy access to the Ghost Zone.

Just a quick in and out, get the DNA Dani needed to be stabilized, go back to Amity and save her life. It was the only condition Danny had for staying with Vlad, if Dani doesn't make it he's gone. But she won't be, Vlad is doing his best to keep her alive if it means finally getting his claws in Danny.

Just get the DNA and go back. No need to interrupt Batman's life more than however long it takes to convince him. No need to even find out his real name or see his real face. Just in and out.

Gut Feeling

DPXDC

Commissioner Jim Gordon meets an odd kid in the precinct.

“Come on, you really don’t have a way to directly contact Batman?”

Jim smiled. Kids came to the station and asked that all the time. Usually, it was just curiosity and showing them the signal was enough to get them to sign up for the Junior Police program. This one looked a little older than most, teenagers were often “too old” to believe in Batman, but again, give them a little faith now and they’ll never loose it.

“Lookin’ for the Bat, kid?” Jim asked, knowing he was about to make this kid’s –

Jim froze. The kid turned to face him and it was Bruce Wayne. Not playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne, but freshly a teenager Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne who Jim had checked in on time and again from age eight until he ran off on a globetrotting trip to find himself. The little Bruce Wayne with too pale skin and dark bags under his eyes, and not enough love to make up for all the grief weighing him down. And he didn’t look like Damian either, where Bruce was obviously his father but there were distinct traits from his mother. This was a carbon copy of a boy Jim remembered vividly.

“I am.” He even sounded like teenage Bruce. All business, like he was on a mission.

“I might be able to help you, but it’ll take a while.” Jim said and the officer the kid had been talking too gave him an odd look. He waved her off and told the kid to follow him to the commissioner’s office. Normally, he’d be more dramatic, put on more of a show for the kid, but his gut told him this was different, this was important. He offered the kid a styrofoam cup of water then closed the door behind him. “So, what do you need to talk to Batman for?”

“It’s personal. I need to talk to him in person.”

Jim took a sip of coffee from his cup. “He doesn’t appreciate me calling for no reason in the middle of the day.”

“So you do have a direct line?” The kid nearly jumped out of his seat. “If he’s upset, it’ll be my fault, just call him, please.”

“Who should I say wants to talk to him?”

The kid hesitated. “He doesn’t know me, but I have to talk to him.”

Jim frowned. “What’s your name, kid?”

He swallowed and looked like he wasn’t going to answer for a moment. “Danny.”

“Danny…?” Jim wanted a last name but Danny kept quiet. Jim sighed, “He’s likely not going to show up until sundown.”

“I can wait, as long as you guarantee he’ll show.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why you need Batman?” Jim just got a glare in response. “What about one of the other heroes?”

“Only Batman, no one else can help.”

“You sure about that? Not even Superman?”

“Not unless Superman can get me in the same room as Batman.”

“Why’s it so important that you meet him in person?”

“It’s personal.”

Jim liked this less and less by the minute. “Do your parents know you’re here?”

Danny looked away but right when it looked like he wouldn’t say anything he mumbled. “They wouldn’t care anyway.”

After another moment to give the kid time to reconsider, Jim pulled out the Bat-phone. It was a normal Wayne-Tech cell phone, but Jim had been given very specific instructions on how and when to use it. The phone listed all the Gotham Vigilantes without visible numbers so they couldn’t be copied and handed out. He pressed the one for Batman.

“Stand outside, would you?” The kid gave him a look, but followed the request. Jim could see his shadow in the door’s window, not so subtle eavesdropping.

It rang a few times, and Jim sat there awkwardly with a teenager listening to his every move. Finally, a familiar voice picked up the other end of the line. “Commissioner Gordon.”

“Sorry to call you out of the blue Batman, but I’ve got a kid here who needs your help.”

“Who?”

“Says his name is Danny, that you’ve never met him but you’re the only one who can help him.”

“Why?”

“Refuses to tell me.”

“What’s your best guess, Commissioner?”

Jim looked at Danny’s shadow, it looked like he was straining his ears to try and hear what he was saying. Danny had given him almost nothing to work with. Just his name, that he’s never met Batman but needs to talk with him in person. But Jim was here because he listened to his gut. A feeling like when you see a random rock on your neighbor’s doorstep but you’d never go in without an invitation. A feeling like you know what’s in the present and are preparing your surprised face. A feeling like when you cheated on your wife and you know she knows.

“He looks like Bruce Wayne.”

A beat of silence. “What?”

“Danny looks exactly like Bruce when he was a teenager. Exactly the same.” Jim hoped Batman would get it, feel in his gut what Jim felt.

“And he wont say why he’s there?”

“No, and he demands to see you in person.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“10-4.” The line cut off before Jim had finished saying it. He called Danny in again. “He’s on his way.”

Danny glared at him. “If he’s not, if you called some social worker or something, you’ll regret it.”

“I’m sure.” Jim sighed and downed the rest of his now cold coffee.

The sun hadn’t set, but only just barely. Jim ended up taking Danny up to the roof in the end after all, if only to save his window from being broken into. The kid had a red hoodie on, but he was still shivering in the autumn chill and it was just going to get colder by the minute as the sun made its way behind the horizon.

Jim checked his watch and, at exactly an hour from when he called, he acted surprised when Batman and Robin appeared out of nowhere. “Bats.”

“Commissioner.” Batman greeted but his eyes went straight for Danny. “Danny, I assume.”

“Yeah, I…” Danny hesitated, looking at Jim and Robin.

All it took was four words from Batman. “What do you need?”

The kid held out his hand with a flash drive in it. “I’m your clone. My par- The people who made me wanted to make a stronger version of you, but they got ahead of themselves. My DNA is degrading and I’ll die if I don’t get your DNA to stabilize me.”

Holy cow.

“You don’t expect us to believe that, do you?” Robin sneered at him.

“The flash drive has all the info on it. All the data about the cloning process and the, uh, relevant experiments after that.” Batman gave the kid a look. “I didn’t want to waste time on unnecessary data.”

“If what you’re saying is true, why are you here, alone? Are they working on a different solution?”

Danny’s shoulders hiked up. “I’ve been a failure for a while now, I’m not worth the resources and they’d learn more from an autopsy.”

Oof, kid. Jim looked at Batman who seemed to feel the same… if Jim was reading him right.

“So, you wont object to a DNA test?” Robin asked with a cocky head tilt, at least he was relatively easy to read.

“You can try.” Danny said, and then realized what that sounded like. “I mean I wont stop you, but my DNA degrades faster outside my body. You’ll have to take me to whatever lab you plan on using.”

“Then we will.” Batman said and jerked his head towards where they’d probably parked that ridiculous car of his. But then he looked at Jim with a nod. “Commissioner.”

“Batman.” Jim returned the nod. “You’ll tell me how things turn out, yeah?”

“I’ll give you a report.” Batman joked – Jim could tell, it was gut feeling.

#dpxdc #danny phantom #dc comics #batman

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grandline-fics · 13 hours ago

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id like to request something - desperate kiss prompt with kid💗 love how you write him hihi

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Desperate Kiss

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Kid

WORDS: 822

A/N: Thank you for the request! I also didn't realise it's Kid's birthday until I was finishing this. I hope you like what I came up with for Kid and this particular prompt

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

Kid was always so self-assured, confident to the point some would call it arrogance. He was a true pirate, he wasn’t going to just roll over and let someone else take something he wanted. He also wasn’t going to just give up on pursuing something he wanted because someone was there first. Life was too short in his eyes to live anything but how he wanted and he did it unapologetically. Kid thought he was unshakable and never considered himself capable of hesitation. Then you had to come along and throw a wrench into his perception and the worst part? You had no idea what you did to him and with every passing moment of being around you he felt like he was slowly losing grip on the situation and going mad.

On the calm, dark waters the Victoria Punk idly sailed through Kid had settled into his watch for the night. Knowing how bored Kid could get you decided to join him at least for a little while. To pass the time you shared a drink and idly chatted, mostly reminiscing about past adventures and tavern brawls. Which led you to talk about the most recent trip on shore that had gotten out of hand.

“That poor guy didn’t have a clue what was happening.” You laughed with a small shake of your head. “Did you really have to punch him with your metal hand though?”

“Why not? Fucker had it coming.”

“Maybe it was the drink I had that night but I can’t remember him really doing anything to warrant a fight until everyone got involved.” You tired to focus your memory but still nothing came to mind. “I mean one minute he was boasting about his own crew then you appeared.”

“You forgot the part he tried to recruit you to his crew.” Kid explained and you gasped, reaching out to grab Kid’s arm as the memory sharpened.

“That’s right!” You laughed, how could you have forgotten? Then you grinned broadly. “Were you scared I’d be sweet-talked into switching crews?”

“Don’t be a moron.” Kid scoffed, doing nothing to move away from your touch. “I wasn’t letting some nobody think he could take what’s mine.” Your smile stretched at Kid’s choice of words. You were part of the crew long enough to interpret what he’d been trying to say. You were his crew, a member of his family and he was a very possessive person and violently protective of the things that were important to him. To think his motivations went beyond looking out for a member of his crew wasn’t even in your mind to consider.

“That’s what makes you the best Captain there is.” You smiled before finishing your drink. With a sigh you got up from your seat, taking his empty mug into your hand as well. Kid watched you carefully, his mouth falling into a scowl as he realised you were turning in for the night and he still had a handful of hours to endure a boring watch. You spotted his sour expression and mistook it for the earlier topic of conversation. Playfully you rolled your eyes and leaned down, pressing a kiss against your Captain’s forehead. “Promise I’m not going anywhere Captain. Stop worrying okay?”

You smiled and as much as you wanted to head straight to bed, you instead began to head for the kitchen to leave off the mugs you’d both been drinking from. The last thing you wanted was a lecture from Killer about the deck being left in a mess needlessly. Behind you, you could have sworn you heard Kid mutter ‘fuck this’ and thought he was cutting the rest of his watch short because of of how quiet it was. It wasn’t the first time he’d done something like that so it wasn’t entirely unexpected. What was unexpected though was when you heard his rushed footsteps drawing closer. As you reached for the door to the galley you were sharply turned and your back pushed against the solid wooden door. “Kid, what the-”

Before you could finish your question, Kid’s hand secured itself against your hip and his lips pressed hungrily and eagerly against yours. Fuelled purely by the desperate need for you to see him as more than just a Captain and desperate for you to finally see how he felt about you he couldn’t help but act the way he had. Against your lips, his arrogant grin crept in when he heard you drop the mugs in your hands as your mind caught up to what was happening. As the clattered loudly against the floor, you grabbed his arm and the back of his neck, returning the kiss at last with equal need. Inwardly he berated himself for doubting himself and hesitating making a move, because had he known kissing you would be like this he would have done this a long time ago.

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa, @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya , @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu , @appalost , @dindjarins1ut

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 2 days ago

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I'm craving Honkai waifus, so...Silver Wolf, Stelle and Firefly snuggling or just doing soft things with their S/O after a busy day!

(H:SR) Silver Wolf, Stelle, March 7th, and Firefly relaxing with their S/O

Silver Wolf simply lays in her bed after a mission, not really in the mood to sit on the computer or anything else.

And unsurprisingly, pulls out her phone, dragging S/O with her to either use as a makeshift pillow, or lean against them.

Silver Wolf kicked off her shoes near her bed as S/O leaned against the bed, an arm wrapping around her while she scooted in closer.

Once situated, Silver Wolf exhales in relief seeing that she was in time to log in for her dailies.

(S/O) "...You sounded more concerned about getting that login streak than you were about the mission."

She scoffed, eagerly tapping the screen's prompts.

(Silver Wolf) "Getting the materials needed for this is a pain in the butt. I'll take whatever I can get for free, this game is grindy enough as it is."

S/O rolled their eyes but nevertheless smiled.

(S/O) "Things go well then?"

Silver Wolf shrugged, eyes shifting over to her S/O as her game was loading.

(Silver Wolf) "Yeah, pretty boring though. It was basically a 1-Star mission, at best."

S/O chuckled as she got more comfortable, quickly hearing the familiar tune of her game's menu.

(Silver Wolf) "Gonna do some singleplayer stuff for tonight."

S/O just nodded, understanding Silver Wolf's need to decompress and the two enjoyed a blissful silence. Apart from the...odd noises from her game.

(S/O) "...Silver Wolf is your character moaning?-"

(Silver Wolf) "Climbing a mountain."

(S/O) "And you gotta have that at full volume?"

(Silver Wolf) "Yup."

Stelle yawned loudly as she flopped onto her bed after finishing the rest of her room's renovations.

It was a long and arduous journey, but now she had a proper part of the Astral Express fully to call her own!

She had finished an impromptu celebration with the rest of the crew, understandably giving her some time alone to relax.

Though, she wasn't entirely alone. A fact made known when her S/O laid on the bed, one hand ruffling her hair.

(S/O) "I still can't believe you slept on a cardboard bed the entire time..."

Stelle didn't move her face, her voice sounding muffled on the mattress.

(Stelle) "WhydoyouthinkIalwayssleptwithyou?"

(S/O) "Is there anywhere you wouldn't sleep?"

Stelle raised her head and moved to say something, but nothing came out as a second of complete silence passed.

(S/O) "...Know what, don't answer that. Just c'mere already!"

Stelle gave S/O a cheeky grin and complied, laying her head on their chest and yawning loudly.

(Stelle) "Now I don't wanna leave this room for the next few days..."

(S/O) "Honestly? With the way this room's set up, we can probably spend the weekend here. Or even longer."

(Stelle) "Hm.~"

One of her arms snaked its way around S/O's waist, her expression becoming softer, yet somehow more mischievous at the same time.

(Stelle) "Well, you're spending the night here, right? I have an idea for something fun to do before we head to bed."

She suddenly sat upright, a gleam in her eyes scaring S/O, but not nearly as much as her next words did.

(Stelle) "Take your clothes off."

(S/O) "WHAT?!-"

...

(S/O) "...Is that bath boiling? And are those peppers?! What kind of bath soak is this?!"

(Stelle) "I wanted to see you use it first."

(S/O) "Oh, so you want me to burn alive?!"

(Shush's Voice) "No worries, Significant Other of the Nameless! It'll just give you a whole new pepper-spective on baths!"

(S/O) "GAH! W-WHY IS SHUSH JUST STANDING OUTSIDE?!"

(Stelle) "Oh for the love of- GET THE [BANAB] OUT OF HERE!"

(S/O) "...How did you make that noise?"

March 7th's arms stretch over her head, making a cute grunt as she fell onto her bed, exhaling in satisfaction.

(March 7th) "Man, what a day!"

(S/O) "March, we were only outside for a few hours."

(March 7th) "Yeah, but we tasted a LOT of food on the planet today! I could just go into a food coma right now..."

S/O just hummed at that, setting aside some leftover sweets on her table.

Following after her, S/O sat at March's side, one hand sliding over to hers.

Without even looking, she playfully squeezed their hand back and closed her eyes, making S/O smile.

(March 7th) "GUARD IS DOWN!-"

March 7th immediately pounced on S/O, suddenly dragging them down to the bed with her as they yelped in surprise before it quickly turned into laughter.

(S/O) "Hey, that's not fair!"

(March 7th) "Not my fault you weren't expecting it! You think I'd just let you sit down peacefully?"

Well, they couldn't exactly argue with that.

And catching them off guard again, she gave them a quick peck on the lips, both their cheeks flushing red, yet neither of them were bothered by the playful intimacy.

Quickly, the mood simmered into something a little more romantic, with the pecks turning into longer smooches, both of them still smiling the entire time as they cuddled onto the bed further.

Firefly finished changing into something a little more casual, that being a simple shirt with some shorts, pulling S/O's hoodie over her head to finish it off.

S/O meanwhile was already yawning, lying on the bed and smiling upon seeing their girlfriend.

(S/O) "You look super cute in that, Firefly."

Even after being in a relationship, little comments like that was enough to fluster her, Firefly instinctually pulling the bottom of the hoodie further down.

(Firefly) "Thank you..."

With a soft giggle, Firefly hopped onto bed with S/O. Despite the mission she had gotten back from, she wasn't particularly tired, due to her genetic enhancement.

Firefly let S/O hold her, comfortably just chatting about whatever came to mind.

It was moments like these Firefly treasured the most with how uncommon it was.

...Even if the conversation did lead to some odd places.

(S/O) "Hm...I'm hungry right now."

(Firefly) "I can make us something real quick if you want?"

(S/O) "Nah, I don't want you to cook...Oh, I can order pizza!...Hm."

(Firefly) "Having second thoughts?"

(S/O) "Do...you think you guys could get pizza for free if you answered the driver in your armor? They'd be pretty scared right?"

Firefly immediately turned her head, pouting as her hand immediately but lightly "chopped" S/O's head.

(Firefly) "S/O! Absolutely not, I will not abuse my powers like that!"

(S/O) "Hah! Sorry, sorry! It was a joke! Though, I do wonder has anyone tried getting delivery?"

(Firefly) "No, but we usually do takeout."

(S/O) "Takeout? How's that work, wouldn't you guys get recognized really easily?"

(Firefly) "Hm, not really. I'm the one to grab it since most people don't know that I'm Sam, though if we need the food to be hot, I sometimes equip my armor and fly home."

(S/O) "...Firefly, you could make a killing doing food delivery if you weren't a Stellaron Hunter!"

(Firefly) "Oh geez, now you're starting to sound like Caelus..."

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail headcanons #silver wolf x reader #stelle honkai star rail x reader #march 7th honkai star rail #firefly honkai star rail x reader #silver wolf honkai star rail #stelle honkai star rail #firefly honkai star rail #firefly hsr x reader #stelle hsr x reader #march 7th x reader #march 7th hsr

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the-ace-with-spades · 1 day ago

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(this is inspired by a buddie post but doesn't relate at all to 911)

for once, they're not exes, they're could've-beens

The Daggers are loitering around the Hard Deck a few months after the mission and somehow the topic rolls onto how they all met each other

One way or another, Bob admits he had a huge crush on Phoenix for like the first few weeks when they met

And everyone teases him to the point he's getting a bit shy, so to not overdo it on him, Fanboy pops in and says that, Hey, I had a huge crush on Reuben when we met during training as well, it's not that bad.

And instead, everyone moans that it doesn't count because they're married and Payback is all 'oh you had a crush on me? that's so embarrassing' while Fanboy just rolls his eyes at him.

So Fritz is like, 'Pretty sure everyone on base but Halo knew I had a crush on her, I just kept saying the stupidest shit around her,' which prompts Harvard and Yale to quote more and more outrageous sentences while Halo nearly snorts up the beer she's drinking

Bob is still really red and really quiet so Phoenix, attempting to get him to relax about the whole thing and not make a big deal out of it is like, 'Yeah, it's normal, lots of people have crushes on their co-workers, especially when they spend hours on end together. Look at Bradshaw over here, he used to be Mr. Heart Eyes for Hangman, you could've done much worse."

Before she realizes that, you know, no one was supposed to know this, it's already out of her mouth.

Bradley kicks her under the table and fucking freezes, avoidings anyone's gaze and bites down the urge to bang his head on the table.

Because, you know, back when he and Jake were still in training, they had what Jake thought was a friendly rivalry - it was actually just Bradley doing stupid shit to impress him and it flying over, figuratively and literally, Jake's oblivious head. They spent a lot of time together and it was very easy for Bradley to let himself just be in the moment and not think about the crush thing so he kinda ignored and ignored and before he knew it, it had been years.

Shit changed when Jake started ditching their after-work meet-ups to hook up with one of the flight engineers with whom he developed a bit of a coworkers-with-benefits relationship. And Bradley had to watch and hear about it on almost every occasion, every day.

Bradley said to himself that enough is enough because the crush was becoming embarrassingly not-crush-like and he decided he was not being that lame and would move on. Easier said than done - he tried to distance himself but he and Jake worked together every day and were friends so eventually all Bradley could do was the good old out of sight, out of mind method and he transferred without telling Jake.

Which is why Jake was so pissed with him. Because, well, Bradley was the closest thing he had to a best friend before he met Javy, and he just left Jake behind without explanation, one day there, the next one already in Japan, like it was nothing. (Jake does not realize that but he did actually have a bit of a crush on Bradley back then as well, he certainly didn't see him the same way he sees Javy...)

So, no, Jake was never supposed to find out, definitely not now when they're kinda friends again.

So, when very disbelieving You had a crush on Hangman? is thrown at him a few times and Jake is just staring at him from across the table saying nothing, Bradley pulls a lie out of his ass.

"He had a nice ass, nice smile, and very nice tits. I was young and stupid. It's not that big of deal."

It raises some eyebrows and snickers. "Seriously?"

"I found him hot, what's so surprising in that? We all have eyes."

There is a second of confusion but then everyone kinda nods along because, well, Jake is objectively attractive. "I thought he was hot, I wanted to impress him but instead we just got into a pissing contest of who is better at this or that and then I just, moved on."

"So, when did you stop crushing on him?"

"When I realized how big of a mouth he had on him," Bradley says, which is the biggest lie he's ever said - he liked Jake's big mouth an embarrassing amount. "Just couldn't stop yapping on and on."

This finally fucking awakes Jake enough to protest, "I don't yap."

And thankfully, the topic smoothly moves onto bullying Jake.

Bradley ignores the whole fucking thing because if he doesn't, he's going to get bitter, and if he gets bitter, he'll have to admit to himself why. And he's moved on, okay, he was fine all this years he's spent in Japan, he's fine now. It's not like Jake would ever give him a second glance anyway.

Meanwhile, Jake comes back home that night and can't sleep. Because Bradley thought he was hot. Bradley had a crush on him.

Or rather Bradley had thought Jake was hot, Bradley had a crush on him - past tense. He didn't even know this was an option and now he missed it, apparently by years.

And he can't stop thinking about it because he could have Bradley and he keeps imagining how their life could look right now if he didn't miss his chance when he had it. And every time he sees Bradley, he gets a reminder - it's all past tense, chance missed, nothing he can do about it, Bradley had moved on.

And Bradley notices that Jake is now acting weird around him, all quite and staring at him when he thinks he can't notice but avoiding him as best as he can any other time. And Bradley can only find one variable that changed just as Jake's started getting weird around him - and that's finding out that Bradley had a crush on him.

So that's great.

#hangster #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #tgm

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remedyturtles · 2 days ago

Note

for the writing ask meme: disaster twins bc i am nothing if not predictable aaaaand ur pick of 8, 22, 29 or 42 if u would like :3

thank you my dearest russothy @rbtlvr for the prompt! this got away from me and also went in so many different directions lmao... snugs hope you like it :D

wordcount 2.7k, pre-series

22. "...you knew?" 29. "Tell me the truth."

"I've definitely got a unicorn horn." Leo said, holding up the puzzle piece.

"Which one?" Donnie propped up the box lid.

The two inspected, comparing the angle with the reference, covered in a multitude of unicorns.

"Hard to tell." Leo set the piece aside, with his other collection of possible key points. They'd only just finished the border, spread out the bedroom floor. They were twelve years old. They were both grounded. They were absolutely and intolerably bored.

No TV. No phones. No lab time for Donnie, no skateboarding time for Leo. No amount of pleading with Raph or Mikey to smuggle them entertainment worked because they weren't happy either.

So it was the unicorn puzzle. And any other way they could pass the time.

"It's your turn." Donnie said, flipping over a few middle pieces and sorting them into piles by colour.

"Sure. Truth or dare." Leo plucked another horn-like piece with a pleased noise and tried to slot it with his first. It didn't fit.

"Truth." Donnie said, after a moment.

"Wimp."

"I stand by my answer."

"Fine." Leo sighed, annoyed. "You're no fun. What is the last thing you looked up on the internet?"

"Pssh. Something absolutely genius, I'm sure." Donnie said. "But alas, we will never know, as I do not have my phone on me."

"Hogwash." Leo said, mimicking his voice, "As if your eidetic memory doesn't know. I'm insulted on your own behalf that you would insinuate such a thing."

Donnie mentally ran back through his most recent searches and struggled not to cringe. A victorious smile spread over Leo's face, before he'd even said a word.

"How'd you know it was going to be something stupid?" Donnie complained, ducking his head to pretend to sort his pieces more intently.

Leo tapped his lip, milking his success. "Come on. You've got a thousand bookmarks on your computer for all your nerd stuff and overflowing shelves of paper books and manuals. If you need to Google something, then it's the bottom of the barrel questions."

Donnie mumbled under his breath.

"What's that?" Leo leaned forward over the puzzle, grin growing to shit-eating.

"You heard me." Donnie's face flushed.

"I'm not sure I did, because I'm pretty sure my genius prodigy Donatello knows exactly how many millimetres are in a centimetre."

"I was just making sure!" Donnie complained loudly, snapping a hand out to push at Leo's face and shove him back to his side of the puzzle. "It's my turn now, shut up. Truth or dare?"

"Dare." Leo answered, because he always said dare.

"Shocker." Donnie deadpanned. "Fine. Eat a puzzle piece."

"Okay." Leo picked up the unicorn horn. Before Donnie could stop him, he placed the piece on his tongue, swallowed, and showed a decidedly empty mouth.

"Oh my stars, Leon, I didn't think you'd actually do it." Donnie said, stunned with the heights of his idiocy.

"You dared me." Leo shrugged. "What did you expect?"

"We needed that!"

"You cannot pretend this is my fault. You literally just told me to eat it."

"I hate you. Alright, Curious George, it's your turn."

Leo barked a laugh. He rearranged his collection of unicorn horn pieces, forever missing one now, and said, "Truth or dare?"

"Dare." Donnie wasn't a wimp.

"Bet." Leo hopped up and immediately began digging in a drawer. "Close your eyes. Don't open them until I say so."

Instant regret. So much instant regret. Donnie didn't obey, tense all over, watching Leo with wariness.

Leo found whatever he was looking for, keeping it behind his back when he turned around, and said, challenging, "Are you switching?"

If Donnie switched to truth, Leo would ask something really awful, and he'd have no choice but to answer as penalty. So Donnie scoffed, like that was a ridiculous question, and shut his eyes.

Leo’s footsteps got closer and he sat in front of Donnie. He said, calm and mischievous, “I’m going to touch your face.”

With the warning, he didn’t flinch when Leo carefully removed his mask, placing it in Donnie’s hand. Then there was the sound of an uncapped pen, and a whiff of marker.

“Hold still.” Leo said, fingers bracing Donnie’s head and setting the marker tip to his face, waiting a moment for him to adjust, then began to draw.

“Urgh.” Donnie said, holding still beyond his fingers fidgeting in his lap with the mask, eyes closed but recognizing the movement of the pen in two arcs over either eye.

“There.” Leo said, removing the pen. “We match.”

Donnie opened his eyes to see Leo directly in front of him, something warm and fond before it eased back into gremlin mischief. “Feel beautiful?”

Donnie got up and looked at himself in the mirror. Dark red marker stripes were drawn carefully over his eyes, matching at the face grinning behind him.

He rolled his eyes. He stomped over to the same drawer and said, “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Leo said, already taking off his mask.

Donnie found the black marker. “Close your eyes.”

Obediently, Leo shut his eyes, grinning too hard that it caused his forehead to wrinkle while Donnie moved his head around to get the perfect sharp and thick eyebrows. He put genuine effort into making them look good, because Leo had too.

“Done.” Donnie said, releasing his hostage of Leo’s head.

Leo leapt up to the mirror and gave a wolf whistle. “Damn! That’s not bad.”

“I didn’t come here to fuck around.” Donnie replied. Looking at both of them in the mirror he wished he had his phone so he could get a picture. He flashed a peace sign anyway, like they were taking a selfie, and Leo automatically mimicked it. For a moment, he forgot the situation and grinned back at his twin through the mirror.

Then he remembered why they were stuck in a room doing puzzles and dropped the peace sign, shuffling down to sort through the stacks. Leo watched him, the small frown made quite more serious by his impressive brows, then hopped over the half assembled puzzle to his side. “My turn?”

It was an invitation to stop, if Donnie wasn’t feeling it anymore. But it wasn’t like they had anything better to do. “Truth.”

"Do you regret it?"

Donnie glared at him.

Leo stared back at him, completely serious.

"I'm switching. Dare." Donnie said. Whatever horrible thing Leo could concoct would be better than answering that. Even if it meant he had to do it, no matter what.

"Fine." Leo shrugged. "I dare you to tell me the truth."

"That's cheating." Donnie lifted his lip in a sneer.

"Is it?" Leo challenged. There wasn't a specific rule against it.

Donnie didn't answer him, turning to try and poke his various pieces together. Neither of them spoke for a while. The tense atmosphere reigned.

"I regret that I got caught." Donnie said, eventually. "Which probably isn't what I'm supposed to feel."

"So you'd do it again, if you felt you couldn't get caught?" Leo prompted, knuckles white in his lap.

"Only one question. Your turn. Truth or dare."

"Dare."

"I dare you to answer a truth." Donnie said, sharp.

Leo's eyes narrowed. He couldn't claim it was cheating without being a hypocrite and he knew it. He rolled out a slow, "Fine. Ask."

"Why'd you take the fall with me?" Donnie was been dying to ask. Leo hadn't even known what Donnie was up to, and yet he stood in front of Dad and swore he'd been helping.

Leo said, "Pssh, I thought you were gonna ask something hard. So you weren't grounded alone, obviously. And it'd be so boring if I couldn't hang out with you anyway. And so I could bug you about what the hell you were thinking. So. Truth or dare?"

Donnie would eat every piece of this puzzle if he didn't have to answer another truth. "Dare."

"Wimp." Leo said, shark-grin.

"Your standards for cowardice seem to change from moment to moment." Donnie said, mouth dry.

Leo could easily pull the same move and insist he answer a truth, but with the tit-for-tat complete, to abuse the power would break the game. "It's fine. This one'll be real easy," his gaze hardened, "especially since it's what you should've been doing all along. I dare you to take me with you next time."

Donnie exhaled slowly through his nose, swallowing. He avoided Leo's eye, pretending he was super interested in placing his puzzle pieces. "Fine."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, whatever."

He could feel Leo staring at the top of his head. He irritatedly poked a piece in place, the leg of a unicorn, and asked, "Truth or dare?"

"I'll do truth if you do." Leo bargained.

A rare offer. Despite his annoyance, he couldn't help but take the bait. "Deal."

"Perfect. Hit me."

Donnie could tell Leo was already formulating his next question. Unfortunately for him, Donnie got to ask first. "Tell me something you've never told anyone."

Leo grimaced. He didn’t answer for a long minute, eyes visibly ticking back and forth as he thought. Then laughed, a little nervous, and said, "Alright. Okay."

The nerves were interesting. Donnie poked, almost fascinated, "Scared?"

"No, I just –" Leo bit his lip and glanced up, fidgeting with a bunch of sky pieces. He was definitely nervous, breath quickening. "I've wanted to say, actually. So this seems as good a moment as any."

Oh, this was actually serious. Weird. Made weirder by the drawn-on brows. Donnie waited for more information before assuming anything. Leo delayed longer, killing time, and only to falter at Donnie's expression.

"It's uh, not a big deal, but. I figured I should … tell you. That. I'm gay." Leo held his breath at the end of the sentence.

"Right." Donnie nodded.

Leo blinked at him like an owl. "... you knew?"

"I… figured." Donnie evaluated the situation and determined a different reaction was needed, judging by the clear anxiety of Leo's face. This hadn't been what Donnie was expecting, because why would Leo be nervous about his reaction. "I did not consider it worth a second thought. You are my twin. There is nothing about you that I wouldn't accept without question."

"Oh. Okay." Leo inhaled shakily then let it out slowly. "Cool. That's cool. Don't tell anyone else yet, okay?"

"Like you even have to ask." Donnie scoffed. There was a code about these sorts of things, after all, twelve years in the making. He wasn't about to break their sacred bond now. "Do you need a hug?"

Leo crawled directly over the puzzle to climb into Donnie's arms. He squeezed so hard it squashed the air out of his lungs. He mumbled in Donnie's ear, "Thanks."

"I love you. If anyone has a problem with it, send them directly to me." Donnie's grip tightened to the point of Leo letting out an 'oof' too.

"Love you too." Leo gave another squish then pulled back, a puzzle piece stuck to his bare leg. "Your turn."

"Now?" Donnie complained. "After we just had a moment?"

"And we're about to have another moment, bucko." Leo was close enough to poke Donnie directly in the plastron, pretending to be stern even as he was still a little shaky. "Your turn."

"Truth." Donnie sighed, fulfilling his end of the bargain.

"Why'd you do it?" Leo asked, immediate. All young indignation, eyes shining with left-behind hurt, and a more incandescent worry that was mirrored in all the annoyed glares outside their door.

“Scoff.” Donnie avoided his eye. “Surely you do not need to hold me at metaphorical gunpoint to ask that question when you already know the answer. I wanted uranium.”

"That's not why you did it." Leo said, expression all the more severe by the painted brows. He insistently poked Donnie in the middle of his plastron again. "I know you didn't want uranium just to have. There's always a purpose, a plan. Why?"

"Multiple uses." Donnie said, tightly, through clenched teeth. "It doesn't matter. No one wants me to have it because they think I'll give myself radiation poisoning. Because it'll put me on a watch list. Because when I tried to sneak out and meet up with a seller I got caught. So it doesn't matter, because obviously no one here is going to let me."

"You're right about that, because you will give yourself radiation poisoning and sneaking off when you're a twelve-year-old mutant to meet up with some sketchy seller was a terrible idea. That's still not what I'm asking. Why?" Leo said, because despite pretending for everyone else that he was in on it the whole time, he was actually just as opposed as the rest of them at his failed scheme.

Donnie physically pushed Leo away, since he was still so close. "It doesn't matter! Okay! I can't do it, so it doesn't matter!"

"It matters to me. Because I'm asking." Leo insisted, hands braced backwards onto the puzzle and separating out the few pieces they'd gotten together. "It's truth, you have to answer."

"I could switch to dare." Donnie said, annoyed.

"Then I'd dare you to tell me the truth."

"That's cheap and you know it."

Leo just stared at him, still leaning back and waiting. Completely dead set and expectant that Donnie would crack.

"There's nothing more to say." Donnie said, swallowing and feeling how his throat was sore. "I have projects that only a radioactive isotope can satisfy."

"Okay?" Leo prompted. Waiting for the expected info-dump.

"Why do you care?" Donnie snapped. "Weapons. Big, powerful weapons, that would obliterate anyone who dared mess with our family. And – a-and unlimited power. And heat. For our home. Okay? Are you happy? Because we don't to have those things anyway, so it doesn't matter."

Grim triumph washed over Leo's expression, and he leaned forward to ask, "Do you think we'd want that at the expense of your life?"

"I wasn't going to die!" Donnie exclaimed. "And if I have the power to make our lives better, safer, more efficient, shouldn't I take it? Shouldn't I push the laws of the universe to give us everything we deserve when we're trapped underground like rats?"

"That stuff is pretty important, but it's not more important than you." Leo said, slowly.

Donnie smacked his hand against the floor and blurted, "That's what I'm good for, so yeah, it is!"

Leo's expression flashed and he gave a low growl. He lunged forward and caught Donnie in a roll, sending the two of them tussling into the dresser. A loud thud made the wall shake. Donnie kicked Leo in the shins. Leo elbowed Donnie in the solar plexus.

"Boys!" Splinter knocked loudly on the door. "No killing each other!"

"Yes Dad!" Donnie and Leo recited together, stalled mid-fight, waiting for the footsteps to disappear before struggling apart.

"What was that for?" Donnie rubbed his plastron, scowling.

"For basing your self worth on what you provide for this family." Leo straight up threw puzzle pieces at him, scattering unicorn bits all over the carpet. "Don't be ridiculous. You're so much smarter than that. If we only let people in because they're useful then I woulda been kicked out years ago."

"That's not true." Donnie protested.

"That's not the point." Leo rolled his eyes. "It doesn't matter who's useful or not. You're one of us forever. No take backs. You don't have to superfit the lair with big weapons and make us completely self-sustaining or whatever. Dad only let you start doing upgrades because you were having fun. If you're doing it to earn your place here then I'll burn your lab down."

"It's fun." Donnie said, quickly, because Leo had an affection for fire that should not be tempted. "Fine. I hear you. I will be satisfied with projects that bring me joy and not radiation poisoning. Can we finish this puzzle or did you actually swallow that piece?"

Leo's severe expression melted, and he reached behind Donnie's non-existent ear and revealed the unicorn horn piece flipping over his knuckles. "Looks like you had it rattling around in your big head this whole time."

"Hah. Caught you." Donnie grinned. "If you cheated on that dare now you gotta do one that's twice as bad."

Leo swore.

#rem askbox #ask game #rem fic #this is probably the last one i'm gonna do!! thank you all who submitted ily

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deluluass · 3 days ago

Text

Reception: Squid Game AU

Content warnings: rape/noncon; canon typical violence; pregnant sex; mommy kink (kinda?)

[ANON PROMPT: The dynamic between player 388 and 322—the former protecting naive vulnerable pregnant you in the games, thinking of him as your reliable “brother” but unfortunately, he wants something more between you two.]

"What- what if," you choke. "What if they make us kill each other?"

Thick layers of tulle burn against your scabbed knees. The gown isn't made of starchy fabric, like the ones they sell at the flea market for half a price because it tends to itch anyway, but it still stings every time you move and graze your barely healed wounds. So you don't.

You sit still, not even letting your spine touch the wooden vines intricately carved on the back of the chair. The delicate cream lace spanning along your chest to your wrists might as well have been worn by a corpse for all the breathing that you do.

You don't even touch your food.

Bokuto, on the other hand, is ravenous.

Sitting on the opposite side of the long table, he tears through chicken leg, then venison, then the boiled potatoes. He chews and chews and washes it all down with wine, chugging noisily as it drips past the edge of his mouth.

"They won't," he finally replies before wiping his chin with the back of his hand. You pass him your table napkin even though he's yet to use his, absently reminding him to keep his elbows off the table unless he wants ragu all over his suit.

He follows you, but not without a toothy beam and a, "Seriously, trust your big bro, 'kay? This is our last meal in this hell hole, so just relax– relax ! And eat!"

Big bro . You snort. He really knows how to lighten the mood, this guy.

"Alright," you sigh, not quite slouching. "What do they want us to do then?"

"What they want?" Bokuto tilts his head, like he's really thinking about it, as he picks at his molars with the tip of his tongue. "Well, they wanna be entertained."

It was a rhetorical question. You don't tell him that. You'd long lost the urge to actually ask him how he knows what he knows about the games, having learned much earlier that it's better to just shut up and do what he says, because between the two– asking or following, that has been the only choice that has kept you alive.

You didn't ask why he had to stop you from picking the pyramid. You didn't ask why he had to make you hide and sleep under his bunker at night. And you certainly didn't ask why he had to bash that man's head when he could've just easily pushed him out of the door.

Repeatedly. As if that first one didn't already do that man in. Smack, smack, smack, until he'd sprayed blood and bits of white-pink flesh onto the cheery, lemonade walls.

He could say that the man wouldn't have left on his own, even though you both heard the room next to yours desperately searching and shrieking for another player to meet the count. He could even say that he'd done it because the man had grabbed and tried to drag you out first, that if it hadn't been him then it would've been you: you and your bits all over those walls, but, still, why –

"Hey."

You look up.

Bokuto was staring at you. Irises ablaze, cheery lemonade under the crystal chandelier.

“Eat,” he says, eyes smiling, all teeth, blood splattered lemons. “You hafta eat.”

Holding your utensils with trembling fingers, “Junior’s havin’ a tantrum in there,” Bokuto suddenly taunts, pointing at your stomach with a parfait spoon.

Your jaw drops.

To hell with your anxiety. You prioritize making a face at him.

“ Mommy, mommy ,” he cries in response, cackling, pitching his voice up and making you groan. “ Stop being so stubborn! I’m so sick of the rice balls! I want ham now! Waaa! Ham!”

“Idiot.” You grin through the first bites of pasta. “She could be a girl.”

“Then hurry up ‘n eat!” Bokuto slams his fist on the table. “Eat so we can scram outta here. Baby girl has got a princess' life to live!”

Glass and ceramics clatter, prompting the masked guards to bark a warning. Both of you stifle a chortle, leaning forward into each other and shifting in your seats like reprimanded fourth graders.

You finish your plate one morsel at a time, rubbing your bump as you do. It’s paste and wet scrap paper in your mouth, but you force yourself to swallow. He wouldn't stop looking at you if you didn't. He was right anyway. You do need to be more mindful of the baby, especially after everything you've been through.

Then, reaching for your drink, the folded napkin next to your plate glints. You gnash your teeth. That's why you’d asked him. Because if you weren't there to shove that thing at each other’s necks, then what in the world were you supposed to do now?

Just…eat?

“Bo-kun,” you mutter. He pauses from scraping vanilla out of a crystal bowl. “They gave us a knife, you know.”

“Hm?”

You know he heard you.

“A knife. We both have a knife.”

“So what?” The thin stem of his spoon clangs with a bite.

Same set of teeth that could rip and spit out a grown man’s ear like watermelon seed. It was dark and the lights were flashing, but you saw .

“Hm? You gonna kill me?”

Stocky gray brows clash in confusion. You think that this is the last thing field mice see when they come into contact with a barn owl. He pops the strawberry in his mouth.

And before you know it, he blurs out of view, and you sniffle and feel the overwhelming need to hide your face.

Bokuto leaves his seat. The guards close in on him.

“Shit, hey, man, look– I’m not doin’ anything funny– look , I’m not– fuck .” He goes around the table to your side, panting slightly as he bends down and props his hand on his thighs.

“Hey, don't cry, don't cry,” he murmurs softly. “I’m sorry, got my foot stuck in my mouth. You know your big bro. I’m a freakin’ airhead, yeah? I was being a fool, shoulda been more sensitive given your- you know-” drawing an imaginary (far too large) arch over his tummy, “-situation.”

Your sobs stumble into giggles. He drops to his knee, the other supporting his arm, as he sighs and glides a large hand over his gel-slick hair. Bokuto shakes his head.

There was once a time in your life when you would’ve given everything in the world just to see something like this. Be in something like this. Praying for your ex to, one day, come home and finally– after all that you’d sacrificed for him, offer this to you.

Man in a dapper suit on bended knee. The pretty white gown. Food that only the rich people in your phone could indulge in. Hundreds of roses in full bloom that it boggles the mind.

Life has a way of giving you what you want: wrapped and tied with a big, fat knee-slapper.

Well, whatever happens now, it finally got the reaction that it’s been asking for.

You laugh.

“Gosh.” You wipe your tears. “We look so weird. Is that the game? Eat while looking like.. like this without breaking. In that case, we lost, Bo-kun.”

He doesn't seem to agree. And he's not laughing with you now.

You don't know if you like that he’s not. It doesn't look right. He even laughs with his thumbs pressed to a living, breathing human being’s sockets.

“I’m not with you on that one.” Bokuto shrugs. “I think you look beautiful.”

“Ugh, don’t make me cry again.”

“Wha- at ? It's true.”

He’s still kneeling. The idiot.

“You too,” you sniff, hand out to fix his bow. “You look beautiful too.”

You feel your smile wobble. Now, he's the one who’s on the verge of tears, but the moment is interrupted by the sudden glow of the tile under his oxfords.

Heart in your throat, you watch wordlessly as the one behind it follows. Then another. And another. Once translucent, some of the tiles now form a warm orange path leading to a–

“That a pond ?” Bokuto chirps.

This is it. The guards start to flank you. Bokuto helps you stand. Warm hand spans your waist, guiding you to your destination.

This is it, you believe. This is where you die.

The baby.

You halt. “It's okay,” Bokuto whispers. “I’m with you.”

The path does not lead you to another arena.

There, water trickles. Out of nowhere, unseen strings play a sweet, languorous melody.

Light shines down on the middle of the pond, revealing a broad, rounded grassy meadow. Flowers, real ones, have sprung along its circumference, almost like it's a fancy cake.

All that's missing are the–

Beside you, Bokuto takes off his dress shoes. You’re about to ask him what he's doing but seeing the couple of feet going to the center, you remove yours too.

The pond is nice and cool when you dip into it. Tiny fishes brush your ankles as you wade through the water. You carry the skirt to your calves, tail end still managing to get soaked, while Bokuto holds you close all throughout.

You land on a marshmallow field. The grass is plush, and you try your best not to give in to the temptation of just lying down, wiggling your toes through the trim, pillowy blades instead. The light pulls your eyes to the ceiling.

You gasp.

They’ve poked a massive hole through it. Above your heads, wispy clouds drift along the bright, open sky. There are migratory birds forming a V in the distance.

“Bo-kun, look…!”

You twine your fingers together, pulling him to you. His are much longer, firmer than yours.

He is looking. Just not in the same direction as you.

When you meet his gaze, neither one of you could have prevented the other from being reduced into tearful, boisterous laughter. The music rises higher and higher, like those birds flying out of reach, and you recognize it as the same one folks usually play when the bride marches down the aisle.

“I guess… we dance?”

Bokuto whistles. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He is warm, Bokuto. If you could make a home out of this, you would. He spins you around, gently, causing you to wheeze. “You’re such a sap,” you tell him with a grin.

“Mhm”

A syrupy kind of ache seeps from deep within you as he sways you in his arms. Treacly sugar and cloying, like the junk you’d stuff into your mouth when you were a kid and making silver bands out of soda pull-tabs; veils out of moth-eaten blankets. It gathers at the bottom of your heart, sticking to its fragile walls and reminding you that there’d been nothing worthwhile to fill it with ever since you turned your body into a work machine.

Not until that day, sitting inside a cubicle that other women had also lined up for, as you stare at the test that’d come out with two, undeniable pink lines.

When the music fades, you convince yourself that it’s perfectly normal to be overtaken by panic. Because, what now? Is this the part where they blare their instructions through the intercom? What will it take? A knife? A shove? The one that falls off the edge dies and the last one standing wins? What ?

You search for the guards, only to find them at the edges of the room, shrouded in darkness.

“Bokuto Kotaro,” you gasp. “That- that is your actual name, right?”

He looks at you like you’ve sprouted another leg. But, picking up on the hurried cadence of your voice, he says nothing and runs a comforting palm on your back. His gaze softens, before stooping down to touch your forehead with his.

Your eyes flutter close.

“I would never lie to you,” he answers.

You nod.

His breath scorches to the point of being feverish. Worry besets you when he suddenly releases a stabbed groan, thinking maybe he’d been sick this whole time and just didn’t tell you.

“Are you okay? Bo-kun, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“S’nothing,” he rumbles, leaving a brief, soft peck on your cheek.

Your breath hitches.

Then, he goes for your lips.

“What the hell–” you cry, turning away, but he manages to capture it in his, molding them together, moaning at your taste. You feel it reverberate inside the caverns of your mouth. He glides his tongue inside, sliding over yours, and, not for the first time, you begin to wish that this is something that would be over if you could only just wake up .

It doesn’t, however. And you don’t.

You stay here, in this moment, with Bokuto’s kisses trailing down your neck. He laps at your sweat, then traces the tender spot that makes you gasp and buckle.

“H-hold on, Bo-kun– wait– Bokuto, stop…! ”

You wriggle out of his arms. He grabs tighter.

“Shh, shh , it’s what they want,” Bokuto murmurs, the bridge of his nose nudging your chin. “They want a good show. We gotta give it to ‘em. Gotta get outta here.”

To your horror, the man has already bunched your gown in his hands. You feel a squall trapped in your throat as the calloused tips of his fingers move, creeping like vines between your legs.

“No, no, no, please�� ”

He touches you through your cotton panties, rubbing your clit as something hot and hard bump against your leg. “This won't take long,” he grunts. “Been like this ever since you came out lookin’ like that. So lovely. My lovely, lovely wife.”

You’re brought down to the grass, carefully, even with all your pleading and squirming. Tulle piles at your waist like a cloud as Bokuto sets you on your side. He’s spooning you, one large arm trapped underneath your torso, supporting your head, as he bucks his cock between your ass and rambles madly into your ear.

“We’ll get hitched for real after this, alright? Take care of you– Gonna make more so they're not lonely– Won’t ever, ever leave you like that motherfucker , you hear me, darlin’? This one's mine now too, got it?”

He’s grasping softly at your bump like somebody might steal it from him. Your child. Your baby.

You shake your head, sobbing, but he doesn't hear you, too rapt picking at the lace covering your chest with his other hand. Without a warning, he rips it apart.

The air is ice cold on your breasts. You hiss out in pain.

Bokuto guffaws. “ Fuck me. ”

He cups them slowly, his heated, wet gasp hitting your nape. Goosebumps rise all over skin. He’s giggling like a child, and you have never feared him more in your life.

“They're really swollen, aren't they?”

You whimper, pushing your ass back into his cock in surprise, the hardened thickness of it rubbing snugly into your clothed pussy. Layers of fabric separate you from each other, but you realize, terrified, that the gusset of your panties are now becoming wetter, and wetter, as he groans and grinds his hips, calling you sweetheart, darlin’, baby . Saying please as if he's not already taking from you.

He brushes your nipples with his fingers. You claw at his wrists, fingers digging into his corded by veins, but he doesn't even budge.

“Bo– too much– ”

You wail as he starts tweaking them. It zaps through your entire body. Live current straight to your core, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and drowning the world in white. You think you’ve kicked his shins. That only makes him gyrate more fervently into your cunt.

“Fuck, these tits ,” he sucks in, practically inhaling your cheek. “These perfect fuckin’ tits. I dreamt about ‘em the moment I laid eyes– Oh my god, I wanted to grab ‘em so fuckin’ bad. Could see your nipples poking through in this dress- almost went nuts–”

Bokuto squeezes them together, sluggish and deliberate, oohing and aahing as he kneads them apart, then squeezes them together, and pinches your nipples. You don't know if he's being mindful or if he wants to savor your humiliation at being manhandled. With him, it's probably both.

“Can't wait till they get so heavy with milk– Gonna help you– Gonna suck it out for you like a good husband should– I can't wait anymore–”

Zipper comes undone behind you.

You thrash out. Bokuto tuts as he pins you to him.

“Careful, mommy,” he coos, his fingers pulling your soaked panties to the side. “Don't move too much. Don't wanna hurt you.”

The tip of his cock stretches your pussy lips, fat head dripping, sliding back and forth into your hole.

“Oh…! Bokuto, no, no..!” He pushes in and you already feel like bursting. His thrusts start shallow, not even shoving half of him, but then they stop staying shallow, and you cringe as you feel him edging close inside. “Not too deep p-please, please, the baby– not too deep not too deep not–”

You’re bawling, almost tasting your snot as you grasp at his arms, and all he does is laugh .

“M’sorry. Too big? You're alright. Won't go too deep. Promise.”

He does keep his promise in the end, oscillating between “ please, please, wanna fuck you so bad” and “can't, can't, can't ” until he's growling nonsense; until he's no longer recognizable from the man who’d called himself your big brother, his hold on you dangerously close to choking you into unconsciousness.

“ You feel so fuckin’ good, ” he mumbles fervently as he twitches inside you. “ So fuckin’ good you're such a good mommy we’re gonna be mommy ‘n daddy soon I love you so much I love you I love you I love you– ”

The pressure builds like water– the higher it rises the faster you sink, as you spasm and contract around him, then falling apart in the dark without a single sound.

You finally open your eyes as you feel him shoot thick ropes inside you. Bokuto thrusts his cum, making sure it doesn't spill out, he says, and you turn to the sky.

It's gotten dimmer, you think.

Wispy clouds drift along. Migratory birds flying into a V in the distance. And you wonder if god has many faces, and if, maybe, they're all grinning down at you.

–

The first game ends with a card.

Bokuto buys everything he’s ever wanted. He dines at the places where everything’s pint sized and complicated to eat. He gets fast cars and even faster motorbikes that almost kill him. He gets himself limited edition sneakers. He gets himself a model and a stripper and an actress and someone who's all three.

He goes around the world and dives out of a moving plane and does everything that makes his blood sing, then he comes back home and he buys himself a place that has a pool and a jacuzzi and a court and a private theater and a game room and when he's alone at night he thinks about the people he stole it all from and he throws up in his big, big, brand spanking new house.

–

The second game ends with an invitation given to him in the limo going back, which he turns down because, “ Your mask is creepy, dude. I’m not wearing that .”

He doesn't know why he came back, even when he finds out, eventually, why they allowed him to. The last dinner was shared between Bokuto and two other people– a man and a woman, both older than him, both ex-military. It gargles out of them, after Bokuto has them under his knees, that they've been here before too, just like him.

Their audience is getting bored, Bokuto figures.

He returns to that big, empty house wealthier than before and with a clearer idea on what he wants to buy next.

He may know jack shit about the specifics of putting his money into things that can double it, but Bokuto knows a lot about deals. He knows how to smile at the people that look at him and only see another set of limbs that’ll keep their plates full. The rooms may be different this time around, nicer and with a lot less killing, but it's all still the same game. He knows about luck and getting a crowd going and most of all he knows a lot about hunger.

So he gets himself a seat at the tables that he never even would’ve been allowed to get close to all those years ago. He gets himself teams that have molded their bodies into playing games, big ones where luck and crowds and hunger flow like blood off gutted arteries. And he doesn't really have to, but he gets and handpicks the players himself, because he knows best the kind of animal that possesses the audacity to stand in the middle of any court, any arena, any stadium, and bring its spectators– every last insatiable one of them, on their feet.

And as he watches from the sidelines, he imagines a world where the circumstances are different and everything goes as planned and survival does not have to come at the cost of destroying yourself. And he imagines that in that world, it is him– Bokuto Kotaro, that hits the ball and makes the score and brings the crowd to its feet.

–

The third game ends with an encrusted ring in the pocket of his suit.

It takes a couple more years until the audience gets bored again. He comes back mostly because, well, why not? It's not so bad, playing.

The kicker this time around is that most, if not all, of the players are of the same breed as Bokuto– animals who have the strength to get whatever they want and the desire to get it however they want.

Except for you.

You come waddling to Bokuto with your head down, hands over your belly, and jacket zipped up to your chin like a hen protecting herself from the cold.

The cutest little thing to have ever existed.

You ask him if you could join Bokuto’s team because, of course, nobody wants you. The woman next to him– the first one who manages to put a scratch on Bokuto much later in the game, says that he shouldn't, because she could tell that you’re at least six weeks pregnant and you’ll hold them back and no good mother would ever put herself in this kind of situation in the first place.

Bokuto keeps you anyway.

Pregnant girl. All on her own. Nobody to rely on. Somebody’s gotta look out for you, he decides.

After that game, he knows that he made the right choice. You’ve got blisters on your palms from all the rope pulling and you’re thanking him for saving your life. He tells you not to sweat it, and to call him Bokuto from now on.

You say, “Okay, Bo-kun,” while caressing your bump, pretty eyes begging him to protect you and guide you and put another one inside you, and that’s when it dawns on Bokuto–

He's the only thing standing between you and this world’s bottomless stomach.

And ever since then Bokuto just couldn’t stop thinking, “ What will happen to you if he's no longer there?” So he runs faster, and strikes even harder, and, for the first time in a long while, he feels like all of this– running, hitting, staying alive – now, isn't it all just so much fun ?

Bokuto smiles at the memory as he fishes out the ring from his pocket, then tosses it to the other side of the pond.

“You’re not keeping it?” Game master guy’s words filter through his mask, stripping it of all feeling.

It kinda bums him out. For all he knows the dude might actually be sad that there's not going to be a fourth time.

“Not her type,” Bokuto tells him. “Diamond’s too freakin’ large, man. Could poke somebody's eyes out.”

He closes his fly, dusts off the blazer to cover you with it, then carries you in his arms. There's a ceaseless drumming in his chest that only gets louder seeing you sound asleep, tucked safely into his chest. He doesn't even bother with combing his hair.

The pink dudes have got their guns ready behind game master guy, index to the trigger. Bokuto wets his lips, and he doesn't miss the way they all flinch.

“It's a shame, Player 388. Our valued guests were looking forward to your proposal.”

That makes him snort. “Tell ‘em I said sorry.”

“Quite unnecessary,” he says. “We should be thanking you. You always deliver.”

“Yeah, well, not really hard to put two and two together.”

Fancy ring. Suit. Gown that still gives him a boner looking at you in it. Bokuto might be a genius.

The pond soaks his slacks again as he walks through it. He frowns. You won't like that. Bokuto ignores his socks since Game master guy accidentally kicked the other pair into the water with his big feet. Bokuto wears his shoes without them, itching for a shower that’ll scald the grime off of him. And you.

A nice, hot shower with you. Now, that's heaven–

Game master guy doesn't move out of the way, though. He doesn't budge even as Bokuto very politely says, “‘Scuse.”

Bokuto then looks at him. He looks and he laughs. And he dares them.

He stands there with the mother of his children in his arms and begs, “Go on. Do something fuckin’ funny .”

They part for him.

“The offer still stands,” comes from Game master guy.

“Dude,” Bokuto whines, not even looking back. “Just tell me you’ll miss me like a normal person!”

–

The house feels warmer when he returns. It feels smaller, too, which he does not mind at all, especially now that there's a happy family of three to fill it.

#tw noncon #tw non con haikyuu #bokuto x reader #bokuto kotaro x female reader #dark content haikyuu #yandere bokuto kotaro #yandere squid game

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queeniewithabeanie · 6 hours ago

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The Nappers

Dpxdc Prompt #10

Danny was really excited to spend the summer with his second cousin(?) he didn't really remember, but apparently Jack Fenton's cousin was Gotham billionaire Bruce Wayne, a serial adopter.

Jazz had discovered the connection and gave him a call to see if he'd mind Danny staying over for summer because Danny decided he was going to tell his parents at the end of summer about his ghost problem, and Jazz wanted him to have a safety net.

He didn't really have a big family at home, with his parents being largely... absent and Jazz moving to Gotham for college. It would be great to be in a house that wasn't empty again.

Now if only his newly discovered family could stay awake long enough for Danny to talk to them.

"So how's living with our cousins?" Jazz asked him through his Fenton-phone. He flopped onto his bed and groaned.

"They're all seem nice but I haven't really seen enough of them to know yet."

"Danny, you've already been there a week, shouldn't you know them at least a little bit? You usually warm up to people quickly, as long as they aren't trying to kill you."

"Man I kinda wish they were out to get me, then I'd probably see more of them than I have already."

"..."

"Okay Danny walk me through our family, and what you know so far about them."

"Well first there's Dick, he apparently lives in Bludhaven and supposedly comes back to Gotham to visit fairly often, haven't seen any of him yet though."

"Then there's Jason, I've seen him come over after dinner a couple of times, but he's seemed in a really bad mood and I'm getting weird vibes from him so I haven't talked to him much yet either."

"Cass, Steph, Tim, Damian, and Bruce are the ones that actually live here at the manor and outside of when I first arrived I haven't actually seen them awake enough to talk to me. Anytime I've caught a glimpse of them they're taking naps and I'd feel bad waking them up, Tim especially (he looks like he needs the rest)."

"What are they, nocturnal or something?

"That's what I thought too! But the Manor is even more dead during the night than the day. If I had wanted to live with a bunch of zombies I'd have spent summer in the zone, not come all the way here."

"The only people that have stayed awake long enough for me to actually get to know them are Duke and Alfred! Duke's great, but he seems to have a day job so I only see him for breakfast and dinner and any time I can catch him before he sleeps after. Alfred's amazing, but he already has so much to do around the Manor, I feel bad bothering him."

"It is only the first week you're there, and there was a huge Arkham breakout your first day so everybody around Gotham is a bit tense while the Bats are trying to recatch everyone. Could you give it another week for me? See if it'll be an option for if our parents react badly?"

"For you, Jazz, I'll give it another week, but I can't just trade one empty house for another."

"Thanks, little brother."

"Love you, Jazz, bye."

Danny hung up the phone and sighed, he new there was something off with his cousins, but he couldn't quite place it. Constantly napping, disappearing during the nights, but always on guard when they were awake.

He had a week to figure it out, but if he didn't there'd be no real lost love. He'd come up with some excuse, stay with Jazz for the summer or something. If his parents reacted badly and he didn't have this safety net, it'd be difficult sure, but Danny and Jazz would figure it out.

Danny thought it would be nice to have some other family that had his back for once, but hey, maybe he just had shitty luck when it came to blood relations.

#listen the batfam has gotta sleep sometime #and they're out and about all the others #danny is suspicious #he'll figure it out eventually #normally alfred forces them to be on a better schedule #but when crime calls the bats answer #dpxdc #dp x dc prompt #danny fenton #batfam

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magpiemirroring · 1 day ago

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I feel like now is a really good time for a Stepford Wives.....not exactly remake.....but like.....reimagining. We won't even call it Stepford Wives.

We've got a lot of influencers preaching very traditional women's roles (while not truly living what they preach a lot of the time) and a lot of grifters preying on very specific ideas of a purer, better kind of Femaleness that you can get in touch with if you just buy into their diet/crystals/tea/supplements/yoga/radical political beliefs.

And certain types of dudes are being very loud and disagreeable about wanting control over women's lives and bodies.

So, instead of "woman moves to Stepford with her husband who joins a Men's Club while she tries to make new friends and retain her identity and watches cool ladies suddenly become weird idealized stereotypes (and also robots)"....Let's start with a woman who is an influencer.

Maybe that's been her goal, maybe it's something she stumbled into with a bit of viral success but friends are encouraging her to network and make it like a Thing. Capitalize on the accidental success. Her particular thing is a little offbeat and quirky and needs all the help she can get to find an audience! So she starts connecting with others and decides to go to a convention or seminar (in stepford maybe, lmao) for influencers and other folks making a career out of an online presence, not only for like advice and networking opportunities but to meet up with some of the folks she's made friends with.

At the same hotel is a convention for developers of next generation AI software. Cue joke about men not even needing women these days because they have their AI girlfriends with their perfect AI generated faces and voices and who can be shaped with prompts into exactly what men want with no real inner lives or needs of their own.

The convention is a little depressing for our MC gal as some of the talks she attends advise leaping on trends and playing it safe to appeal to a wider audience. And like, she doesn't want to be a soft-spoken trad-feminine beauty blogger making "delicious" health food for her family. (She has a cat and maybe she'd prefer a girlfriend.) She just wants to know how to make it easier for people who would like her content to find her.

She goes out for drinks with her pals that night and one of them is acting a little off, different than she did earlier, but she puts that down to the same sort of "authentic identity vs brand" issues she herself is working through.

But when she's back at home struggling with her next update and sees this friend's next post or video, she is shocked to see that her friend has gone very tradwife-y all of a sudden. She reaches out to her friend to be like "oh new direction. kinda a sharp pivot....? you know you don't HAVE to change up what you're doing just because someone at the convention said so, right?" and gets back a chipper note that this friend is just SO HAPPY with her new content. She didn't realize how unhappy....how unconnected to her inner goddess she had been. Plus, like, the stuff she was doing before was hurting her husband's chances at a real political career and she real wants to live in such a way that their lives and values are perfectly aligned, a team!

Okay, a little strange, but this was a new friend and maybe our MC just never really knew the real her. That's a risk with folks you meet online.

But then more and more of her fellow quirkier influencers start shifting their content to the same sort of bland, safe feminine content that reiterates a sort of second-to-your-man (and you DO have a MAN, right?) ideology. Their videos look very polished, but sort of wrong at the same time....and they all have new sponsors.

Desperately digging for info into those sponsorships (she knows how controlling those can be), she discovers they are all linked back to one guy, a venture capitalist whose put a lot of money into shady pyramid scheme type companies and has recently also starting investing in an AI company that sounds familiar. Our MC realizes she saw a lot of their banners at the AI conference sharing the hotel with her influencer conferences and realizes that it's possible someone hacked the hotel's data for the names, addresses, phone numbers, and credit cards of all the women at the influencer conference and has been using that information to target popular women whose content he doesn't like.

He's also been donating a lot to a campaign for a guy going for a house of reps seat on a platform with a lot of Traditional Values dogwhistles.

Digging further, reaching out to more people (neglecting her update schedule!) she's found worrying signs that the women whose content has suddenly changed haven't been seen out and about in person in awhile and she can't get any of them to agree to going out for a coffee or even an in-person collab for their instas! She even finds some Missing Person reports.

The idea that someone has maybe killed these women and replaced them with AI-generated versions that are increasingly unsubtle shills for a trad-femme/anti-feminist ideology (and a bunch of bogus products) is too ridiculous to be true! But also...increasingly too plausible to deny.

Our MC gathers her evidence. She doesn't think she can trust the cops with this. She's not really in the habit of trusting them, though if these women really are missing she'll have to talk to them eventually. But not until she can convince them she's not just some crazy. Not until she's built up some outcry and support for her suspicions. So she sets up her camera and prepares to record a True Crime style video on what she's uncovered.

In the artfully blurred background of her video we see movement. A person dressed in dark clothes. They go off camera while, uneasy, but unaware, the MC continues to narrate her video, gesturing in the air to where she will edit in graphics later. Just as she starts in on her sponsorship bit, a figure in black with surgical-gloved hands steps into the frame and kills her.

Cut to black. Credits roll, interspersed with clips from her new video! Which is a safer, tamer, more male-gaze-y take on whatever she did before. Other clips also play during the credits. Slight glitchy tradfemme videos. A few short reaction video clips to same. Short clip about the politician winning his seat. His wife is so proud of him and would be here by his side if she wasn't recovering from a recent medical procedure. But she'll be back at his side soon! More unsettlingly off clips, ending with a bit from the MC's sponsor moment that just straight up advertises for a perfect AI Assistant who is just like a friend who can help you keep track of all your responsibilities and help you so you have more time for You! (tho "more time for you" is paired with an image of the MC getting a chaste embrace from a handsome man in a soft sweater, as if "you time" is not complete without a man.) We should walk away with the sense that this helpful AI assistant is gonna use a lot of personal info about you to build up a profile of users, ostensibly to personalize your New Friend, but also so it has a base on which to learn and function as a replacement for the female users eventually...

Cottagecore beauty blogger video called "How to get the Stepford Wife aesthetic!" but in between talking about where to find Gunne Saxe dresses online and how to do that 70s mascara look, there's something...off. She keeps jerking and repeating lines, like she's stuck in a loop. By the end of it, she's holding a knife to cut up heirloom tomatoes for a summery afternoon snack, but her hand is twitching and she's turning the tomato into paste with all those slices and even when she's moving on to asking you to like and subscribe she's still making slicing motions on the table.

#stepford wives 2025 #stepford AI #magpie makes up a movie #it's very important to me that this movie also has a downer ending #the mc is not girlbossing her way out of this #you don't get to leave the theater or close netflix with a reassuring return to feeling safe #you get to stay unsettled and upset by her fate #theoretically #that's goal anyway lmao

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rafeysdeer · 3 hours ago

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dizzy (aka clumsy reader x protective jason)

civil!reader x jason todd

prompt: jason and his really clumsy girlfriend who is so used to her bruises from simply bumping around, that she forgets that it's not exactly the usual for other people to walk around with bruises. jason who isn't exactly happy to see his girlfriend hurt and makes it his new mission to take care of her.

a/n: that one i think it looks really cute, i'm also a really clumsy person, so it was pretty easy to come out with this one, him taking care of her was just so cute, i can sleep better knowing that they got eachother, anyways, english is not my first language, hope you guys enjoy it 💗

Jason was used to bruises and injuries, part of the job he chose, but he didn't expect that on a cold thursday night, he would find his girlfriend with a bandaged wrist and bruises all over her body, some that even looked old. He expected even less that she would give him a bright smile and run to hug him as if everything was normal, what he didn't know was that bruises and a bandaged wrist were just everyday nonsense for the clumsy girl.

"Honey, what happened to your wrist? Did someone hurt you?" he asks, carefully picking up her injured wrist to take a look, a worried expression on his face, his brow furrowed as he studies it. "Oh, it's nothing, I just got distracted and fell on it, it's okay."

And Jason looked at her face with a huge question mark on his face. "Did you fall on your own arm?" he said looking more and more confused. "Yeah? It was no big deal, really, I've had worse. Come in, i made hot chocolate" she said with the brightest smile on her face, as if she didn't have a fractured wrist.

He followed her into the apartment, the confusion never leaving his face as he slowly closed the door and followed her into the kitchen. Before he could even reach the cozy kitchen, he heard a soft groan of pain, followed by a muttered curse.

He rushes into the kitchen, afraid that she was hurt, even more hurt. And he was right, when he came inside, he found two colorful mugs of boiling chocolate with small marshmallows on the counter, some of the very same hot chocolate spilled around, and his girlfriend, with the hand that was not bandaged, under the cold running water of the sink, with a light burn on the torso of her hand.

"Love? What happened?" he asks, getting closer to her so he can see the injury more clearly. "Nothing serious, Jay, just a lil' burn, i'll be fine, just give me a minute to clean it up." she says, smiling and looking really calm for someone who just burned her own hand.

And as she moves to grab the rag to clean everything up, she bumps into the counter, holding onto it to steady herself, and it hits him, something finally clicks. All the times he watched her get hurt, bump into something or someone, get burned, fall awkwardly, it's too many to count.

She made a joke or two about being a distracted person and clumsy, but he didn't realize how much until now.

He smiled slightly as he watched his girlfriend try to balance the two mugs, knowing how this would end terribly, taking the mugs from her hand. "Honey, go sit on the couch, I'll take these." He noticed her frown, already starting to protest. "You don't have to do this, Jay, I want to help." But he was already interrupting her. "Sweetheart, please, you're going to help me by going sit on the couch." She huffed slightly but went anyway, sitting down and waiting for him to come right behind with the mugs, he put the mugs on the coffee table and went towards the bathroom to get the burn ointment.

And from that point, it just became a routine, her clumsily hurting herself, him taking care of her right after, and at some point it was like he had a sixth sense of when she was going to get hurt, being a vigilante also helped a lot with his reflexes.

So, they were walking down the street and she tripped? His arm was around her before her body could even dream of falling. They were cooking and she was cutting something? The knife was out of her hand before she could cut herself, and he told her to do something safer, like opening the dough.

And just like that, it became something of his, caring for her and looking out for her, knowing how to take care of her when she got hurt, and knowing how to stop her from getting hurt, and for that, she was eternally grateful.

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd thoughts #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood thoughts #red hood x you #red hood x reader #batfam #batfamily

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9haharharley1 · 2 days ago

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Bdsm prompt: experienced kinkster and first time actually doing anything kinkster. Bonus points if the dom is the newbie.

Take this messy thing away from me before I add more nonsense to it!

Featuring a Jack who has been part of a BDSM lifestyle in the past and Pitch who is very much curious.

---

"Is our sex life really so boring that we must submit to such base desires?" Pitch didn't so much as sneer as he said it, but he may as well have for how he turned his nose up at the riding crop laid out innocently on the bed.

Jack rolled his eyes. "It's not base," he said, barely holding back a groan of annoyance. He'd explained this a million times already. "And our sex life isn't boring. Far from it, and know it!" He crossed his arms, feeling a little self-conscious as Pitch held up the crop with one hand to better examine it. "It's just..." He couldn't look at the man, glancing at the closet door as he tried to avoid gold eyes that turned back to study him. "I just need something different every now and then, alright?"

"You want me to hit you," Pitch deadpanned. Jack held himself tighter.

"Yes." He chanced a look at the older man out of the corner of his eye. Pitch had an odd look on his face; one part repulsed, one part curious. He swung the crop down by his side, fast enough that Jack could hear the displacement of air on the other side of the room. It made his cheeks burn hot. "I'm not asking you to beat me, Pitch," he tried to explain once again. Pitch had expressed interest when Jack had first brought it up a week ago, but the tone of his lover's voice now was putting him off. "What I'm asking for is controlled. Methodical, almost. You like that kinda thing, right?"

"Yes, but I'm not interested in hurting you, Jack," Pitch stated firmly. He smacked the crop against the palm of his opposite hand as if to prove his point, but all it did was make Jack's pants feel awfully tight. He shifted in place.

"You're not supposed to put all your strength into it," he explained, rolling his eyes to hopefully mask his sudden arousal. He walked over, holding out his hand. Pitch handed over the crop. "It's a sensory thing." He tapped it gently against his lover's exposed chest. Pitch stood a little straighter, but otherwise, he didn't react save for the curiosity in his eyes. Jack ran the flat leather tip down the center of his chest, nudging his partially unbuttoned shirt out of the way to stroke it against a nipple. Pitch shuddered, pupils dilating a little, and Jack tapped the crop against it just to watch him squirm. "A few smacks is enough for me." He pulled the crop out of Pitch's shirt to run the leather down his stomach. Pitch stood very still, hands behind his back in parade rest. "Hard enough to sting and leave a mark." Jack ran pliable leather over the half-hard cock in Pitch's slacks. He couldn't help but smirk up at the man. "Just enough to know who's in charge."

Pitch's gaze was smoldering as he gazed down at Jack. "And who is in charge, Jack?"

Jack shrugged. He held the crop loose in one hand, looking away from his lover. "Don't know yet. But if you're really not interested, we don't have to do this. This is supposed to be something fun and new, but if you're just gonna be mean, then I'm not interested either." He flipped the crop in his hand, holding the braided handle out for his older lover. He stared hard up at Pitch from under his bangs. "I need you to be my Dom, not a dick."

Pitch slowly reached out to take the riding crop. Jack let him have it, crossing his arms back over his chest. Pitch's fingers flexed around the handle, and Jack had to look away. His face felt flush, and he really hoped Pitch had the good grace not to be a dick about all this later.

He jumped when thin leather smacked his arm. It wasn't enough to hurt, just enough to get his attention, the sound loud in the quiet room. Jack turned his head back to stare down at it, eyes wide. It then moved up, rustling the fabric of his shirt, until leather curled under his chin and urged him to lift his head. He did so as though commanded even though neither of them had spoken, and he was embarrassed by how red his face must be when he finally met Pitch's eyes. Pitch stared down at him, one arm still held behind his back, gaze almost impassive. Curiosity shone deep in gold eyes, studying Jack's reaction to the crop, and the younger man swallowed thickly.

"You seem to have forgotten who's is charge here," Pitch murmured, and Jack whimpered at the authoritative tone. He hated how quick Pitch caught on sometimes. Leather ran down his neck, but Pitch held his gaze. "Allow me to remind you." He tapped Jack's chest with the crop. "Strip for me. And get on the bed."

Jack couldn't get his clothes off fast enough.

He practically ripped his shirt off, throwing it across the room as he did. Pitch tutted, and Jack froze as he worked his pants down his legs.

"So eager," he murmured, and Jack shivered at the dark tone of his voice - the one that only came out when Pitch was particularly demanding in the bedroom, the tone that made Jack want to introduce him to this side of himself after all their time together. "Go slower for me, darling. Let me see you."

Jack swallowed nervously, but he obeyed, removing his pants at a slower pace. He put a playful little bounce to his movements, shaking his ass as he slid his underwear down, earning a soft groan of approval. When he stood back up, his cock stood at full attention, and he couldn't meet Pitch's eyes.

A firm tap of the crop met his thigh, and Jack jumped. He couldn't stop the moan that slipped past his lips.

"On the bed," Pitch reminded him, a warning in his tone. "Don't make me ask again."

Oh, that...

That was fucking perfect.

Jack was trembling as he stepped toward the bed, his face on fire as he knelt on the edge. He wanted to ask how Pitch wanted him, but he was too turned on and embarrassed to do so, so he simply climbed up on hands and knees, ass on display for his lover. It had been a long time since he had last been in such a position, and it was embarrassing to display himself so lewdly to Pitch of all people, but he trusted him; trusted him more than anyone he had ever met, so he swallowed down his shame and arched his back, leaning forward to rest his weight on his elbows. He wanted to share this side of himself with Pitch, and he was going to share every damn bit of it.

Pitch sucked in a sharp breath behind him, and Jack couldn't help the little grin that came to his lips at the noise. He breathed out a shaky breath and finally let himself sink into that blank space he had been craving for months now.

"Is this okay, Sir?" he asked quietly, peeking over his shoulder, and he was gratified by what he saw.

Pitch's mouth had fallen slack, brow hiked up. His eyes had glazed over some as he ran them over Jack's exposed body, the crop dangling uselessly from his fingers. His black slacks were tented with obvious arousal, and Jack bit back a laugh. He shook his ass, teasing his older lover.

"Sir?" he asked, a little louder. Pitch snapped his mouth shut.

"Oh, I was not ready for that..." he mumbled, still looking a little dazed. Jack snorted. He shook his ass again, earning a gentle smack from the crop. "Stop that."

Pitch was kind enough to wait for his laughter to die down. "Sorry, sorry!" He looked back again to see the older man just watching him, running his eyes over every inch of his body. He was equal parts admiring, dazed, and calculated, and Jack's blush returned. "Do you want to stop?"

Pitch's eyes darted up to meet his. "Do you?"

Jack slowly shook his head. He licked his lips. "Green."

He watched Pitch exhale shakily. "Safe words. Right." He swallowed but adjusted his grip on the crop. "Green." And Jack watched his whole demeanor change, going from his unsure and hesitant lover to the hardened military strategist he had met what felt like a lifetime ago now.

His fingers curled in the duvet under him as he shivered with anticipation.

Firm leather brushed his ass, making Jack trembled in place. It ran over first one cheek and then the other, ghosting down his center until it pushed against his hole. He whimpered.

"None of that," came Pitch's hardened voice, and Jack struggled to comply, but all he wanted was to fall face first into the bed and beg the man to touch him. "Needy little things like you don't get what they want, even if they do make such sweet sounds." He rubbed the crop more firmly over Jack's entrance, and he had to stifle his moan into the covers. "I don't think I appreciate such disrespect." He pulled the crop away to tap against a cheek gently. "Do you agree, darling?"

Jack nodded shakily. "Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir."

"Hm." Pitch seemed to be struggling for dialogue, but Jack was so turned on by him playing along that he was willing to wait as long as he needed. It wasn't like they had hashed out a specific scenario to lead into this. He actually hadn't thought Pitch would want to jump right on in to begin with! Jack had thought they would need to ease into it all a little more, get his lover more comfortable taking charge like this, but Pitch was proving to be almost natural at it. Pitch's eyes on him alone was enough to keep him hard for hours, and, oh, they were going to have to talk about such a scenario at some point, weren't they?

Jack's cock was leaking between his legs, almost painful with how hard he was. He needed to move this along or he was going to have to safeword out, because this was almost too much too soon. "How can I make it up to you, Sir?" he murmured, glancing over his shoulder again.

Pitch was staring at him like he didn't know what he wanted to do to him first, and, fuck, Jack needed him to do something! He shook his ass, his arousal noticeably swaying between his legs, if Pitch's eyes dropping down to stare at it meant anything.

"I'm, uh..." Pitch swallowed, hands balling into fists at his sides, breath coming a little shaky. "Ye... Yellow."

Jack didn't move off the bed, but he sat up, turning his upper body toward his lover. His brow furrowed in concern. "What's wrong?"

A shaky breath left Pitch, but his eyes remained glued to Jack's ass. Jack thought that might be a good sign. "I don't..." Pitch exhaled again. "I'm at a loss."

Jack pursed his lips. He turned around to face him. Pitch stifled a distressed noise at that, and he almost laughed at the older man. "OK. How so?"

"I-I don't..." Pitch ran a hand through his hair, scowling at the floor. "I don't know what I'm doing. I d-don't know how to segue into... hitting you." He sounded genuinely distressed.

"Do you want to stop?" Jack asked. His tone left no room for argument.

Pitch's brow furrowed. He remained quiet. Jack sighed quietly, and he tried not to feel disappointed.

"We can stop, Koz," he said quietly. He met Pitch's eyes when the older man finally looked back at him. He shrugged, offering a small grin. "It's really not that big a deal. I'm... kinda surprised you made it this far anyway." He chuckled a little.

"Jack..."

Jack hated how soft his voice sounded.

"Seriously, it's fine!" He forced a laugh, ignoring the tears that sprang to his eyes. "We don't have to go further! Just... come over here and give me some cuddles or something. I don't want you to feel like -"

"I want to bury my face in your arse," Pitch suddenly announced. Jack's face went scarlet, wide eyes darting up to meet blazing gold. Pitch's pupils were still blown so wide as he racked his eyes over Jack's body. "How I get to that point from here, I do not know, but this is... Frankly, this is torture. How do I get to that point?"

Jack almost spit for how sudden his laughter was. "You -"

"Jack, please," Pitch practically begged. "Am I allowed to touch you? Or does that come later?"

It took serious effort to stifle his giggles. They sounded near hysterical to his own ears, and he watched through watery eyes as Pitch stepped closer. "Pitch -" Jack cut himself off with more laughter, near doubled over. "Oh, my god, I can't -" he gasped in a breath, nearly losing it again when he caught sight of his lover's impatient face. "B-Babe, pfft - you're in control here! You can do whatever you want to me as long as I get the crop or unless I safeword out!" He reached out both hands for his lover, Pitch stepping in close until Jack could grab the collar of his partially open shirt and drag him closer. He shifted, lifting up on his knees so he could give the taller man a reassuring kiss, moaning when Pitch tried to follow him when he pulled away. Jack grinned. "The ass-whooping is my punishment; ass-eating is the reward."

"So it's to be a punishment, then," Pitch clarified. His voice went velvety dark as he said it, something in Jack's words seeming to click for the older man. It made Jack's face flush once again. Pitch grabbed one thin wrist in his free hand, pulling Jack away. "In that case -" he smirked wickedly " - green." He shoved Jack back onto the bed. Jack yelped.

Before he could catch his bearings and scramble back up, the crop came down on his chest - not enough to hurt, but enough to make an audible sound and leave a light mark on his pectoral. Jack gasped, dropping back down to his elbows, eyes clenched shut as tingles shot from the spot all the way to his groin. The crop dragged down to his belly.

"You are an absolute bloody menace." Another hit landed just under his ribs, Jack arching and crying out. He gaped up at the ceiling as Pitch dragged it even further down, tracing the seam of his hips. "And you think," Pitch ran the leather tip in a circle on the sensitive skin just below Jack's naval, "you can just tease me anyway you'd like?" He barely tapped it against Jack's weeping member, nearly making him sob when it bounced in place. He trembled. "I think making me wait is punishment enough. On your knees."

Jack couldn't move fast enough.

He scrambled back to his position from before, ass out and knees spread as he pressed his chest to the mattress, all but prostrating himself for his lover. Leather ran up from the back of his knee, tickling sensitive skin as Pitch dragged the crop up to his ass. He lay it flat to his skin, Jack shaking uncontrollably. He clutched the duvet in anticipation.

"How many do you think you deserve?" Pitch asked. He held the crop steady as Jack tried to wiggle his ass at him for more attention. Then he gave him a good swat.

"AH!" Jack's head shot up with the hit, the cry ripped from his throat in his shock. His cock was already dripping from how hard he was.

"None of that," Pitch ordered. He rested the crop on stinging flesh. "I think I've had enough teasing for one night. Answer my question, Jack."

Jack swallowed, burying his heated face in the cover. "F-Five..." he whispered. It was a number he had decided on before they started, something to ease them both into this. At the rate it was going, however, he might not even last that long.

Another swat stung his other cheek, and Jack nearly screeched, head jerking up in shock. His hips tried to rock uselessly forward.

"What was that, darling?" Pitch pulled the crop away. "I couldn't quite hear you."

Jack licked his lips, panting. "F-Five hits, S-Sir!" he stuttered a little louder. He couldn't bear to look over his shoulder at Pitch.

"Good boy, Jack. Five should do nicely. Are you ready?"

Jack didn't even get a chance to reply before the first real smack hit him just above where ass met thigh. A sound was ripped from him, somewhere between a screech and a moan, and he clutched the covers hard between his fingers. Tears stung his eyes, and euphoria threatened to consume him with the beautiful sting of pain.

"Is that what you wanted, Jack?" Pitch asked, voice gone dark with menace. "Aren't you going to thank me?"

Jack trembled where he lay. "Oh, god... Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir!"

"Don't you sound so pretty. Let's hear it again, hm?"

And he swatted Jack again, this time across the other cheek, and Jack squealed. His face was on fire, and he buried it in the duvet, tears soaking the fabric where he had his eyes clenched shut. "Oh, fuck, thank you, Sir!"

"This is a good look for you," he thought he heard Pitch say behind him. There was a fog rolling in, keeping him from paying attention to anything but the next hit. It came soon after, across the same cheek, Jack whining into the sheets. "Don't hide yourself, Jack. I'm doing this for you, after all."

"Y-Yes, Sir! Thank you!"

"So sweet." Was that a grin he could hear in Pitch's voice? Jack wasn't sure. He was too busy gasping for air as a sob threatened to escape his throat. "But I'm sure you can sound sweeter."

The next hit landed in the same sensitive spot as the first, where ass met thigh and lit up his nerves with fire. He screamed into the sheets, that sob ripped from his throat as his legs shook. His toes curled, back arching, and it took him longer than before to catch his breath again.

"Th-Thank you, Sir..." he hiccuped into the sheets. When Pitch didn't respond, Jack hesitantly shook his ass, and he heard a quiet groan somewhere behind him. "G-Green..." he sniffed.

"Gods, you're fucking gorgeous," Pitch suddenly growled. Jack jumped as the crop found his skin again, but all Pitch did was trail it gently along the painful spots on his ass - a mockery of a caress that made Jack's skin twitch and his muscles quiver. The crop dragged over his heavy sac to tap his member. "Look at you... You're dripping all over and I haven't even touched you yet." He continued to rub firm leather along sensitive flesh, letting pearly fluid catch on the end of the crop. Whimpering, Jack tried to thrust forward, to get even the slightest bit of friction on his cock, but Pitch pulled it away with a firm tap, making his length bounce and Jack nearly sob. "You don't get to come yet, Jack," he said darkly. The crop rubbed once more over his cheeks. Jack's back tensed. "I still owe you one more. Are you ready?"

Jack didn't even have time to respond or even just nod his head before he was screaming with the final hit across both his cheeks, rocking forward with the force of it, cock spurting with pre as unexpected pleasure ripped through him. He sobbed into the bed, fingers curled tight in the covers.

"Fuck!" he screamed, legs spreading even wider in an effort to rub himself on the bed. "Fuck, fuck, fu~uck! Thank you, Sir! Thank you - oh, god, I'm so close, please, Sir, I need it, I need you, I need - fuck!"

Two big, hot hands spread his stinging cheeks, thumbs pulling at his rim until hot breath and an even hotter tongue found his hole and plunged inside. Jack screamed, writhing on the bed as he tried to fuck back on that wonderful tongue, Pitch groaning obscenely loud compared to how quiet and controlled he had held himself until now.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get more inside him, all but sobbing when Pitch refused to give him what he needed. His tongue was searing in its heat, and Jack's tears soaked into the cover as he cried, shaking and desperate. He listened to Pitch's moans, feeling little vibrations of sensation shoot up his spine until he couldn't take it anymore, and he arched to try and catch a glance at the older man.

"P-Pitch," he sobbed, "Pitch, please, I can't - I need -"

That tongue was gone in the next instant, Jack gasping at the sudden emptiness, his hole clenching around nothing. He sobbed again, frustration making him thrust his hips for some kind of friction until a hard smack to his ass made him gasp and jump. The sting of a hand on flesh had his eyes clenching shut. Big hands took a firm hold of his hips, yanking him back to the edge of the bed, and with no warning, Pitch's long, hard cock was forced inside in one hard shove.

A guttural scream ripped from Jack's throat, tears soaking his cheeks, and he came untouched almost immediately, forcing himself back on the long cock inside him with every near painful spurt. Pitch held him in place, groaning loud and deep, and it took only a few thrusts before warmth flooded Jack's insides. He whined at the sensation, trying to meet every twitch of Pitch's hips, until all at once, his legs seemed to give out, and all that held up his slumped form was Pitch's strength alone.

Minute tremors ran through lithe muscle as Jack was lowered back down on the bed. He shook, tears soaking into the sheets as his ass stung in the cool air and his face burned.

God, what must Pitch think of him?

He tried to lift himself up, but his arms shook so bad that he could barely move them, let alone support his weight, and he collapsed back to the bed. He tried to hide his face, only to moan when hot hands found his skin, slick with some kind of lotion, rubbing it gently into his tender flesh.

"You did so well, Jack..." Pitch murmured from behind him, voice achingly soft and gentle. "You were so very good for me; so beautiful and obedient."

Jack sniffled, peeking an eye over his shoulder to meet Pitch's adoring gaze. "I-I did good?"

Pitch smiled at him, gold eyes gleaming with love. "So good, Jack. You were such a good boy for me." He rubbed the last of the ointment into Jack's skin before crawling up the bed, picking Jack up easily as he went to rearrange them both more comfortably at the head of the bed. He held the younger man securely in warm arms, Jack burying his face in his exposed chest as he clutched at his shirt. Pitch moved a hand up to card his fingers through sweaty white hair. "Thank you for being so patient with me, love," he whispered, placing a kiss to Jack's hair.

When Jack's shaking finally died down and he felt like he could speak normally again, he pulled away to gaze up at his lover, filled with nothing but love and adoration for the man. He placed a soft kiss on his chin. "Next time, I think I might ask you to go harder on me," he murmured, voice hoarse from screaming.

Pitch kissed his brow in return, fingers gentle on his back. His smirk was wicked when he met Jack's gaze, however. "Next time, I'm going to fuck you with the handle of that crop until you can't speak anymore."

Arousal lit up Jack's spine with a shock, and he moaned, his length twitching half-heartedly against the thigh shoved between his legs. He grinned back, eyes going heavy with desire. "Oh, yes, Sir, please..."

It looked like Pitch really would have no trouble taking up the title as Jack's Dom after all.

---

I'll clean it up and add it to ao3 later!

#thank you for the ask!!#harley writes #my writing #blackice #rotg #fic #pitch black #jack frost #harley answers #asks

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weebsinstash · 2 days ago

Text

Someone sent me an ask about, "do I have any angsty ideas for yan Lucifer x Reader" and it's like honey I have THE angsty idea. It's basically an idea I've already shared except bumped up to 11 inspired by miscommunication and misunderstanding tropes like in all those manhwa and c-dramas I love

So I guess to just come right out and say it, because the attempt to answer the ask a little more naturally got way too long, my angstiest saddest idea for Lucifer x Reader, one of those really miserable, wallowing in sadness kind of prompts, is: you die, find out Lucifer is your soulmate, you reject him not wanting trouble and also he literally already has two wives and a daughter and it feels, weird intruding on his family unit, but you two eventually become closer and through some alcohol related shenanigans you get pregnant and Lucifer proposes you get married, but a few months before the wedding, Lilith shows back up, Lucifer is all over her, and instead of a scenario where Lucifer is managing to juggle both you and Lilith and Lilith is going out of her way to include you, the second she's back Lucifer prioritizes her almost exclusively, and it eventually leads to you beginning to become so stressed and hostile you wind up getting into arguments with both Lilith and Lucifer, a rift beginning to form between you as Lucifer becomes more upset there's tension between you and his wife, and bwcause of the constant extreme stress and potential other factors out of your control, you wind up losing the baby.... and then Lucifer accuses you of doing something to the pregnancy to get back at him, accuses you of trying to get his attention or manipulate him using the baby, and by the time he finds out the truth, you've already been grieving alone and have completely closed off your heart

I can just picture, how incredibly painful it would be, to not just have to be grieving, but for your partner to basically be saying, "well... haven't you been jealous of me giving this other person a little more of my time? Didn't you do this to get back at me?" when you are literally a victim. I feel like that would be the worst for me: knowing I'm innocent but that someone who is supposed to love and trust me even considered I was capable of such an awful thing. When people reveal they think things like that about you, it damages your relationship, because, why don't they know who you really are? Why would they think you're capable of doing something you're not? They think you're more cruel and inhumane than you actually are? What other things do they think you're capable of, then?

I can just picture.... you begin miscarrying and Lucifer isn't even around; he's off doing something with Lilith and Charlie and you're completely alone to get yourself to the hospital. You lose your baby alone. You discharge yourself against medical advice because you feel like you've truly lost everything. You're trudging back up to the Hotel and Lucifer just greets you like nothing has happened because he doesnt even know, and...

My brain just really keeps making it so dramatic and painful, like, a scenario where before Lilith came back Lucifer would come up to you and say things like "how are you two doing?" And putting his hands on your belly because he with his powers and Hell being his dominion can feel the life growing inside of you, and, after you miscarry he's walking up to you like normal and just, freezes. His mouth hangs open as his eyes drop from your face down to your tummy and then, slowly dragging back up to you

First words out of his mouth, "... what did you do?"

You're too hurt and horrified to even defend yourself as he starts completely breaking down, because for him, he isn't grieving the loss of your child WITH you: he's thinking you intentionally killed it and he feels genuinely betrayed by you. He's thinking not only has he lost his baby, but that it was something you intentionally caused. He just starts screaming all sorts of things and accusations on his grief, "why would you do this just to hurt me?!" "Out of everything you could have done to get my attention, our fucking BABY?!?" "I know you've been jealous of me and Lilith but this?! THIS?!?!" "We were supposed to be a family!!! How am I going to tell my daughter you killed her baby brother?!"

It twists into a fucked up scenario where Lucifer genuinely believes you caused your miscarriage but even through it all he still has this unbreakable demented love for you, and just... imagine after that first day with all of his grieving and screaming that you're essentially... locked away. You aren't allowed to leave the Hotel anymore. Lucifer doesn't take you out. He'll barely come to see you. You basically don't leave your room anymore. Charlie can't even face you; in a way she blames herself for trusting you and, allowing you to hurt her, her father, and... what would've been her baby brother, and this all of course means Vaggie no longer tolerates you as well. The only people in the Hotel who treat you with anything resembling kindness are people who genuinely don't give a fuck about the situation. Part of me wonders if Alastor would be your only confidant, as the only one who would have any skepticism. Since he's so attached to his own mother, I like the idea that seeing Reader be excited about motherhood drew him in more to you, made him more attached and protective, and while he can't exactly do anything to intervene, he gives you the occasional small kindness that keeps you from going completely insane

but you wanna know what the saddest part of this idea I've had that keeps coming back and scratching my brain. The idea that, after you miscarry, because of the extreme stress and trauma of the loss and how much everything hurts at that exact moment, while you are there at the hospital, you refuse and put off scheduling the... removal procedure, and you develop essentially an extreme trauma where you do not want the doctors to remove the deceased fetus because, in your mind, your baby was the only and last person who ever had and ever will truly ever love you, and you can't bear literally cannot bear the thought of your son leaving your body in any other way other than being born and being able to be held in your arms, but... that's not..... viable anymore.... so over time you just start going septic and start becoming seriously ill. You keep talking to your belly like your baby can still hear you. You think to yourself, that you and your baby can rot away together. You'll be together for as long as you can. They won't take your baby from you. They can't take him away. You won't let them

meanwhile Lucifer has been been clinging to Lilith in his grief, yet, she can't bring him the same comfort that she used to be able to; she realizes the power of the feelings and the connection Lucifer has with you, how it's unique and different from his love for her. His love for you and his pain is so deep that Lilith cannot even properly soothe his heart, and he'll even hide some moments from her, too, become a little closed off to her like anyone else.

Eventually the hospital calls, but they call Lucifer because for one you no longer are allowed to have a phone and aren't answering their attempts to contact you first but also, since Lucifer was the father, he's technically involved. Just. Just picture Lucifer in the depths of anger and grief getting this phonecall, "hey sir? Sir? Hospital here. We know this is a time of deep mourning but have you and your wife (he was secretly having them call you his wife long before you two were engaged) decided when to schedule her procedure? This is going to get extremely dangerous if we don't act soon"

Like really just picture you miscarried like WEEKS AGO and Lucifer has been keeping you basically in home imprisonment and you've become almost completely socially isolated and cut off from the rest of Hell and Lucifer is JUST NOW finding off from like some random fucking clerk, "abortion? Sir, no, what? She had a miscarriage, I was there??? She hemorrhaged??? She kept screaming if it came down to her and the baby that we need to save the baby??? Sir??? Have you... spoken to your wife???"

but Lucifer is still in a state of denial, because, once his brain truly processes what's happened, that's when he has to re-process all the trauma and anger and sadness and guilt all over again, so, here he is, not going to you, but to the hospital, and now he's looking at security footage of you being wheeled down the hallway screaming your baby's name.

Can you picture like, the recording has audio and at one point you start to call out for him and you stop, and Lucifer watches as you start praying to God and asking God for help instead, wailing about "there's no soul more innocent than an unborn baby, please don't take my baby, please don't punish him because of me". Lucifer sees that you truly didn't trust him when you needed him most. It hurts almost as bad as the loss of his son.

I can also picture, maybe in your panic and grief you say things like, "please, please save my baby, he's the only person who loves me" or "please, don't let MY son die" or just... lucifer can see IN the hospital that you were already having these extreme doubts he loved you even before he accused you of, you know, being a baby murderer

Lucifer having Extreme Mental Breakdown 2 Electric Boogaloo right there in the hospital as he finally fully processes that you organically miscarried and he like a fucking dumbass accused you of being responsible and proceeded to lock you away and treat you like shit. His brain wants to reject the reality immediately: no, no, he never would have hurt you like this if he'd known!! Why wouldn't you just tell him you miscarried?! Why would you let him believe you were a killer?!

It's way way wayyyyy too late for apologies but he goes to you to give you one anyway, but more importantly, he has to get you treated, and it's salt in his wounds as he has to basically force you to go to the hospital, I mean literally has to drug you or knock you out with magic because you're screaming and howling at him like an animal that "he can take everything else from you but you won't let him separate you from YOUR baby" and throwing things at him and even trying to stab him. Now Lucifer gets to feel like shit Part 3 because at the hospital here the doctors are, "dude she is so fucking sick right now??? nurse look at these charts she has lost so much weight just from a few weeks ago??? bro there is so much infection in her fucking blood she's gonna start seizing or some shit" and it's just, another thing to stab Lucifer in his heart, that on top pf the miscarriage he also had no idea you were sick, or worse, he noticed certain signs beginning to develop and he accused you of being on drugs or drunk and brushed it off because at that point he was so angry at you that, maybe a small part of him thought you deserved to be sick and feel shitty after "what you did"

here you are, coming to in the hospital, kind of in a way re-traumatized because, now you know that. Your pregnancy truly, truly is finally over, that your son truly is dead because now he's no longer even inside of you. Lucifer is, almost pathetic in his desperation to show you he knows the truth now and apologizes and, begs for your forgiveness. I mean, after all, you guys still have the wedding next month--

I could genuinely keep going and going to the point I could just write the fic itself but I wouldn't know where to end this idea outside of, Reader does in fact eventually heal but you're always going to be Lucifer's little wife-prisoner because, not o ly does he just love you so so so much but obviously now he's got uh Some Serious Fucking Trauma Now on top of all his other you know, crazy lil yandere habits, so OBVIOUSLY he has to make up to you all the pain he caused and make sure you're happy and healthy forever right? Because you two are still gonna get married and be together forever right? And.... since you two will be together forever... that means you'll eventually let him try to have another baby with you, right? And.... you'll agree, because he still loves you and you still love him.... right? He'll fix everything, he PROMISES he'll fix everything, but, you just, have to be willing to give him another chance....

#Ugh its so sad fjfjcjfnf #yandere x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hellaverse #sinprompts #yandere stuff

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