#clean hood safe kitchen

[red-eagle-fire-santa-barbara]

Reducing Fire Hazards: The Importance of Regular Hood Degreasing and Maintenance

Fire safety is a critical concern in any kitchen, especially in busy commercial settings. One of the best ways to minimize fire risks is through consistent kitchen exhaust hood cleaning and degreasing. Regular maintenance of the exhaust hood system removes built-up grease and contaminants, significantly reducing the chances of ignition and ensuring a safer workspace for everyone.

Why Kitchen Exhaust Hood Cleaning is Essential for Fire Safety

In a bustling kitchen, the exhaust hood and ventilation system work constantly to filter out grease, smoke, and odors. Over time, grease can build up inside the hood, ducts, and filters, creating a potential fire hazard. Regular hood degreasing and kitchen exhaust cleaning help prevent this accumulation, keeping the system operating efficiently and safely. This maintenance is a vital part of any fire prevention strategy, especially for commercial kitchens.

The Importance of Regular Degreasing and Maintenance

Routine kitchen exhaust hood maintenance provides several advantages beyond just fire safety. It can extend the lifespan of your exhaust system and improve air quality within the kitchen. Here are some key reasons to prioritize regular hood cleaning and degreasing:

Minimized Fire Risks: Removing grease buildup reduces the chance of fires starting within the exhaust system.

Enhanced Airflow: A clean exhaust system allows for better ventilation, improving comfort for kitchen staff.

Energy Efficiency: Clean exhaust hoods operate more effectively, potentially reducing energy costs for your business.

Professional Kitchen Exhaust Hood Cleaning Services

While some kitchen staff may try to handle cleaning themselves, hiring professional kitchen exhaust cleaning services ensures a more thorough and effective job. These experts have the tools and experience to clean every part of the exhaust system, including areas where grease tends to accumulate. This not only helps you comply with local fire codes but also gives you peace of mind, knowing your kitchen is safe.

Professional services can create a cleaning schedule tailored to your kitchen’s needs, whether it’s weekly, monthly, or quarterly maintenance. They also provide documentation of each cleaning, which is crucial for meeting regulatory requirements and maintaining insurance coverage.

Signs That Your Kitchen Exhaust Hood Needs Cleaning

Recognizing when your kitchen exhaust hood needs cleaning is vital for maintaining a safe kitchen. Here are some signs that it’s time to schedule a professional cleaning:

Visible grease or residue on the hood or filters

Smoke lingering in the kitchen longer than usual

Unusual noises or reduced airflow from the exhaust fan

Challenges in passing fire safety inspections

Addressing these signs quickly with thorough kitchen hood cleaning can prevent more serious issues and help keep your kitchen safe.

Protect Your Kitchen with Regular Exhaust Hood Cleaning

Routine kitchen exhaust hood cleaning and degreasing are essential for reducing fire hazards and ensuring the safety of your kitchen. By investing in professional cleaning services and maintaining a consistent schedule, you can protect your kitchen from fire risks, improve air quality, and keep your exhaust system functioning smoothly. Prioritizing regular cleaning not only ensures compliance with fire safety regulations but also creates a safer and more efficient kitchen for your staff and customers.

[redeaglefireprotectionorange]

How Regular Kitchen Exhaust Hood Maintenance Minimizes Fire Hazards

Maintaining a safe commercial kitchen requires diligent attention to its ventilation systems, particularly the kitchen exhaust hood. Consistent kitchen exhaust hood maintenance is essential for reducing fire risks and ensuring a safe cooking environment. By keeping the exhaust system clean, you can effectively prevent grease buildup, a common cause of kitchen fires. Let’s explore how regular maintenance helps minimize these risks and keeps your kitchen secure.

The Importance of Kitchen Exhaust Hood Maintenance for Fire Safety

The kitchen exhaust hood is designed to extract smoke, steam, and grease-laden air from the kitchen, helping maintain good air quality. However, if it isn’t cleaned regularly, grease can build up in the hood and ductwork, becoming a significant fire hazard. Without proper kitchen exhaust hood maintenance, this buildup can ignite due to high heat or sparks, leading to dangerous fires. Regular cleaning ensures that grease doesn’t accumulate, keeping your kitchen safer and compliant with safety codes.

Benefits of Regular Kitchen Exhaust Hood Maintenance

Beyond reducing fire risks, maintaining your kitchen exhaust hood offers several other benefits that enhance both safety and efficiency:

Reduces Grease Accumulation: Consistent maintenance removes grease deposits from the hood, ducts, and filters, lowering the potential for grease fires.

Improves Ventilation: A well-maintained exhaust hood system ensures better airflow, effectively removing smoke and heat. This creates a safer, more comfortable environment for kitchen staff.

Extends Equipment Lifespan: Routine kitchen exhaust hood maintenance keeps critical components like the fan and motor in good working order, prolonging the system’s life and reducing repair costs.

Ensures Compliance with Safety Standards: Many local fire and building codes require regular exhaust hood maintenance. Staying on top of maintenance helps your kitchen pass inspections and avoid penalties.

Signs That Your Exhaust Hood Needs Maintenance

Knowing when it’s time for kitchen exhaust hood maintenance helps prevent small issues from becoming major problems. Look out for these common indicators that maintenance is overdue:

Visible Grease Drips: Grease dripping from the edges of the hood is a clear sign that it’s time for a deep clean.

Reduced Airflow: If the exhaust system no longer effectively clears smoke, it could mean that grease buildup is blocking the ducts and restricting airflow.

Lingering Odors: Persistent smells in the kitchen may indicate that the exhaust system is not properly removing fumes, signaling that a more thorough cleaning is needed.

How to Maintain Your Kitchen Exhaust Hood

Proper kitchen exhaust hood maintenance involves regular cleaning combined with professional inspections. Here’s how to keep your system in optimal shape:

1. Clean Filters Frequently

Remove and wash the filters every few weeks to prevent grease buildup. Using warm, soapy water helps keep airflow strong and ensures the system functions efficiently.

2. Schedule Professional Cleanings

Hiring professionals for deep cleanings every three to six months is essential to ensure that ducts and hidden areas are free of grease. This is particularly important for high-volume kitchens where grease can accumulate rapidly.

Prioritize Regular Maintenance for a Safer Kitchen

Regular kitchen exhaust hood maintenance is key to reducing fire hazards and maintaining a safe commercial kitchen. By keeping your exhaust system clean, you prevent grease buildup, improve air quality, and extend the lifespan of your equipment. Making maintenance a priority protects your kitchen and offers peace of mind for you, your staff, and your customers.

[jjenthusee]

A Broken Mug

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!Reader

a/n: i wrote this because of @janybabyy hilarious comments on my last angsty drabble. It made my morning and I wanted to also contribute some fluff as an apology lol (there also might be a little steamy scene if u squint) i love reading comments and reblogs so leave some if your comfortable ENJOY (also the angsty drabble is here)

tags: tons of fluff, shameless flirting

3.5k words

When Jason went out on patrol, you busied yourself filling the time with aimless activities and chores until he came home. You didn’t plan on trying to shift your sleep schedule with his reversed one, but with your lenient job and bad sleeping habits, nothing was really stopping you.

You got to see him come back from patrol and took naps on the couch together, so you didn’t see any problem with it. Tonight was also any other night that you were walking around the apartment getting any chores done.

Your usual weekly mop and washing your dishes at three in the morning was productive. Until you tried to see how many mugs you can try to carry from the drying mat to the cabinet, then you dropped two mugs.

An old shark mug that would be missed and Jason’s birthday mug you got him last year. You wished you could reverse time, but you stood there watching the mess you created.

Now with the broken pieces, a tube of super glue and your will, you sat on the floor studying how to put the mug back together. The rug in your living room doubled as your current operating table as you laid your supplies around the fragments of Jason’s previous birthday gift.

You had two hours to make it looked like nothing happen, not cry and figure out if you picked up all the pieces. Then apologize to Jason and promise to never pick up a mug again.

…

You looked at your finished handiwork, eyeing the glued ceramic pieces of Jason’s mug.

It looked bad. The glue had settled in some of the smaller pieces, but almost the entire tube was gone and you were out of options. Maybe some last finishing touches, but that wouldn’t fix the problem of it being broken in the first place and you weren’t sure if this was even safe to drink out of anymore. If it didn’t leak.

Now your boyfriend’s precious mug became the victim of your carelessness. The handle broke off completely and the rim had several chipped pieces. With a final attempt you managed to somehow pray that the handle fit and it did, but there were definitely pieces that didn’t fit that smoothly.

Luckily, when the mug fell it didn’t fall onto the floor like the other victim, but onto the kitchen counter. The impact could’ve been worse, but some higher understanding kept most of the mug still intact, but ceramic was fragile, so only so much could be held together against the force of gravity.

“Maybe he won’t notice?” You sighed defeatedly picking at the dried glue.

“Notice what?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at Jason’s voice. You didn’t expect him to be casually standing near the window, standing tall behind you in full Red Hood gear.

You always did manage to forget about his stealth and agility. You nearly smacked him with a pan when you thought a burglar was in your kitchen when you first started dating. Good thing the flowers he brought with him were unharmed.

After closing the window, he slowly removed his leather jacket and gloves with visible exhaustion in his movements, relieved to remove a layer of his nightly outings.

“Welcome home.” You softly spoke, but a bit of strain crept into your voice at the realization that you didn’t clean your mess in time. You whipped your head back to your crime scene that sat in front of you.

Trying to act as naturally as possible, you capped the glue shut.

“Another night of being a handsome vigilante taking down kidnappers and stopping drug trafficking?” You teased as you shifted your body fully toward Jason, no doubt the slight hesitation in your voice giving you away, but you grabbed the tube of super glue, quickly shoving it in your sweatpants pocket as you spoke.

“Nah, only drug trafficking.” Jason lazily said, not paying direct attention to your awkward movements as he emptied his hidden arsenal of weapons off his body. “I made Roy handle the kidnappers.” A hint of amusement in his voice as he stretched his body, muscles contorting. The movement more visible with his jacket off.

“Only drug trafficking.” You tried mimicking him, giving a bad deep voice impression. You slid the mug closer to you, flush against your back so he wouldn’t see it from his angle.

Jason stopped in the middle of his post-patrol routine to look at you. His helmet tilting at you slightly, analyzing you.

Shit. He noticed something.

“Jay, my love, did you shine your helmet recently? It looks shiny and I couldn’t help but notice—“ Your voice quickly died as your gaze shifted from his red helmet down to his hands on his utility belt, lazily resting on the release latch. The look was…wow.

“Cleaner and polish.” Jason spoke slowly, clearly feeling smug under his helmet. He was all too familiar with that look in your eyes. You could practically see the smirk forming.

Click. The belt released as it fell loosely around his waist. Your mouth felt dry. You snapped yourself out of your thoughts.

You can eye-fuck him later, you wanted to hide the cup, but delaying your apology until tomorrow didn’t feel right.

Jason gave one last glance at you, then resumed his attention to his gear as he took the belt off.

“I was thinking we could eat something simple tonight…or morning? I guess it’ll technically be breakfast.” You shifted to get up, grabbing the cup along with you. Thankfully you were able to grab the handle while keeping your eyes on Jason, making sure it wasn’t entirely noticeable.

Jason removed his helmet, a puff of air releasing as he placed it on the dining table.

“Wanna cook something or pick up? It’s kinda limited since it’s early, but there’s always something open.” His voice was clearer, more defined without the modulator distorting it. A slight raspiness that poked at you.

Without the helmet, you could see Jason’s messy hair, matted in some places and fluffier in others, a slight stubble pricking his jaw and that sweet exhausted expression that made him mellow. Your heart raced every time you saw Jason’s face after a night of patrol.

You need to focus. You were getting distracted.

A distraction. That’s what you needed.

With the cup still held behind your back, you walked to Jason as he was placing his belt on the back of the dining chair. He didn’t expect the sudden closeness, but didn’t refrain from it. He looked more…curious than anything.

Jason watched as you reached for his face with your free hand. You didn’t fully extend your arm, purposefully leaving some distance that he would have to fill himself. Giving him the time to come to you.

Sometimes Jason needed time to adjust after a night of patrol, some days he wanted to come to you and other days you had to step in and make baby steps towards him, guiding him back to the domestic life he shared alongside you. Either way you waited and were willing to wait as long as he needed.

This was one of the moments you reached out first, asking to touch him. It was a quiet signal letting your hand hang in the air. Sometimes he held that hand or he let you caress his face. Despite how much you told him he didn’t have to follow it every time, he always did. Like telling you ‘no’ would end him.

Like a magnet, Jason lowered his face placing his cheek in your hand, placing a kiss inside of your palm.

Your heart raced as you watched his careful movements.

He moved his own hand over yours, intertwining your fingers together, but keeping your hand on his cheek. His skin was slightly cold, but he kept your hand in his and he rubbed his face on your palm trying to absorb your heat. It must’ve been freezing outside, maybe you need to get him some hand warmers to keep in his jacket, but a part of you also wanted him to use you to warm himself up.

You felt him sigh as his lips touched your skin. His eyes closed as he fully lost himself in the moment, it felt like he was giving you a silent ‘I missed you’ as he refused to move from you and you squeezed his hand, hopefully giving the message back.

As he breathed your scent in, you counted his eyelashes while you waited, refusing to disrupt his moment from decompressing from patrol. You loved seeing his face from this angle because you could see that some of his eyelashes were white like his hair. It wasn’t that prominent, but your heart fluttered that you were probably one of the only people to know.

Your thumb caressed the edge of his eye, watching him lean into your hand more.

Jason’s eyes opened, barely enough to gaze at you, but you wouldn’t miss the devotion that sat in his eyes. He trusted you and is willing to give himself to you, to let you touch him. To ruin him, if you desired.

“Jay…” You breathlessly spoke into the intimacy pulling at you.

Jason stayed still, waiting for permission, for you to lead him in whatever direction you wanted. All of his resolve focused on what you desired. He was hesitant to even breathe too hard, if it meant you would move away.

You carefully leaned into him, mindful to not touch him more than you already were. Moving your hand from his cheek to the back of his neck. Pushing your fingers through the edges of his hair, his labored breathing on your lips as you hovered over his mouth, just near enough to touch his lips if you spoke.

You wanted his full attention.

You couldn’t tell if you tugged him first or he leaned in, but you were too lost in the kiss to care. You started with a gentle touch, but once Jason angled his face to bring your body closer to him, it felt like he wanted to engulf you.

You felt his fingers slowly itch onto your waist, playing with the fabric of your shirt. You flinched, surprised at the sudden, but welcomed touch. You moved your hand holding the cup—you forgot about the mug!

Luckily, your realization went unnoticed by Jason. He pressed into you, leaning your neck further back to adjust to his height. The new development let a sound reach his throat, but with your bodies this close, you could feel the murmur. Your stomach fluttered.

Before his hands could move toward your back, you maneuvered your arm still holding onto the cup to avoid getting tangled. You laid your arm on his shoulder, holding the mug by its handle, careful to not let the mug touch him, letting him get even closer.

The movement allowed him to breathe onto your mouth, lost in your contact. It made your stomach warm at the sound.

Your mind went blank and you instinctively followed the movements of the man in front of you. You lead him to this point, but with the permission you gave him, he followed his desires. You wanted him to want more, he barely asks for things and he deserved to be spoiled.

His hands found the edge of your shirt, placing his cold hands underneath onto your bare waist, rubbing the skin with his thumbs.

You shuddered. He watched the tremor in your body, resting his nose next to yours. Dwelling in intimacy and shaky breaths.

Once his hands started to warm against your heated skin, you looked up to him. Watching his reddened skin. Maybe you can mention the mug now.

“Jay…I broke—“

Jason was too infatuated with the moment and holding you in his embrace that he didn’t comprehend anything you were saying. He took advantage of your mouth opening to deepen the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, to keep yourself from falling and to somehow find a way to merge your body with his.

You took a sudden breath, releasing yourself from Jason’s mouth. A sudden…hunger in his eyes as he watched you breathe. You gripped onto the handle of the mug and Jason’s broad shoulder, overwhelmed by the combination of Jason’s touch, breathing and look.

He must’ve not felt any different as he nipped at your jaw, using his hand to cup your neck and angle your face up to give him more access.

“Jay—“ You breathlessly pleaded.

Clink.

The handle of the mug broke off, leaving the handle in your hand and the rest of the cup bouncing off of Jason’s back and shattering on the floor.

Both of your movements stop as Jason shoves you behind him, shielding you from the imaginary attacker.

You could only see the back of his shoulders and his flushed ears peaking out as you looked at the broken handle still in your hand.

“Jay…it’s fine.” You tapped his shoulder to point to the cup broken on the ground. “It’s my fault.”

“Wha?” Jason asked, still breathless as he was ready in attack mode.

“I was trying to tell you, but I—got distracted.” You cleared your throat.

Jason leaned down taking some of the broken pieces near his boot in his hands. Recognizing the fragments once he got a closer look.

“I’m sorry. I tried to fix it, but then I guess super glue isn’t as reliable as I thought—“

“Sweetheart—“ Jason soothed as he stood up.

“Then I forgot about the time and you came back before I could figure out what to do. I can buy you a new one—“

“Sweetheart, it’s okay.” He placed his hand under your chin, grabbing your attention. “It’s really alright.”

“But look at it.” You defeatedly gestured to the broken handle still clutched in your hand.

Jason could only laugh watching his partner sadly show him the aftermath of their handiwork, his full set of teeth visible, giving him the cute boyish look you loved.

“You don’t have to apologize, it’s really okay.” He grabbed the handle out of your hands. “I’m glad you didn’t cut yourself from the broken pieces, but we don’t need to fix it.”

He had a smirk on his face.

“Especially with super glue.”

“Hey! I had to use what we had in the drawers.” You puffed.

He placed the pieces on the counter. Carefully moving you to the couch, so you don’t step on any sharp pieces. Cleaning up the mess of his cup.

You silently watched, making you feel worse. Jay noticed your sullen look and consoled you as he swept up any left over pieces.

“I have shoes on still and your in your socks, I just want to make sure it’s safe.”

You frowned further.

A small tender smile spread across his face as he properly disposed of the remaining pieces and walked over to the couch. Your eyes followed his form as he kneeled in front of you, making him sit just below your eye level with your legs in between his, gently taking your hands in his as he methodically rubbed your skin with his thumb. His hands were warm now, probably from your earlier…activity.

“My love, it’s okay. We can replace it or get an entirely new one.”

“But it was a matching set.” You rubbed his hands back.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t choose a new set.” You looked up from both of your hands to his gentle gaze, filled with so much warmth and understanding. “I’ve been meaning to take us to that new pottery place you talked about. We can each make a mug, okay, sweetheart?”

You brought his hands to your lips, gently placing a kiss on his rough hands. A mesmerizing hum left Jason’s mouth.

“Can you make one for me and can I make one for you?” You quietly asked.

Jason laughed, the cute smile poking through again.

“I would love that.”

Maybe breaking Jason’s mug wasn’t so bad after all.

…

Your date to the pottery place was even better than you expected. You got to try something new, Jason made a few cheesy Ghost pottery scene jokes that the instructor probably heard too often and you got to watch Jason’s hands intricately make your brand new mug.

You were internally thanking your clumsiness for breaking his cup earlier in the week and blessing you with the scene of your boyfriend’s biceps. You wish you could brand the memory into your eyes.

Now you tried to concentrate as you painted Jason’s mug. You both decided on painting things about the other person onto the cup, a completely unique design.

You managed to decide on an overall simple red color (surprising, I know), paint a wonder woman emblem and a simplified doodle of Jason’s face. It was your proudest work.

You even snuck in a clumsily written “I love you” with a tiny Red Hood doodle at the bottom of the inside of the cup. A cheesy surprise for him.

“I don’t think I’m made for the arts.” Jason carefully held the paint brush in his hands.

“Don’t say that, your mug shape looks better than mine. Sorry that I made yours a little wonky.” You looked at the slightly slanted rim of the mug.

“I love wonky. You know me so well.” He playfully flirted.

You chuckled at your love-struck boyfriend. You could have given him a ball of clay and he would’ve proudly kept it on his nightstand. You just rolled your eyes at him, knowingly that you also didn’t care if Jason bought a plain cup and handed it to you. You would love it all the same.

A small quiet silence, both lost in your individual masterpieces. You looked up to watch Jay, who concentrated with furrowed brows, trying to add his iconic red bat symbol to your cup. When you noticed he also painted a couple cracks around the handle, clearly digging at the broken handle you religiously held onto earlier that week.

“You’re never going to let that down.” You sighed.

“Huh?”

You pointed at the handle, a smirk appearing on his face.

“Of course, sweetheart, I wish I could’ve gotten a picture of how sad you looked. I would’ve made it my wallpaper.” He chuckled.

“Don’t make fun of me, I was really nervous about telling you. And I lost a pair of sweats because the super glue decided to permanently close my pocket.”

“I’m not, I thought it was cute.” He looked up from your mug. “Besides I already saw it when I crawled into the apartment.”

“What!?” You almost shouted. “What do you mean? You knew?”

“I didn’t know anything, just saw it, but you gave yourself away after you called me ‘my love’ and then I just wanted to see what you were planning.” He finished painting the outline of his iconic bat symbol. “You always call me that when you’re up to something.”

“That’s embarrassing.” You put your paint brush on the table, attempting to cover your flushed face with the back of your hand, careful to not put any paint on your face. “I thought I managed to get past you, but I guess making out doesn’t really count as a distraction.”

“Oh, no, I was distracted, so I guess your plan worked.” He placed his finished work on the table. “But, you’ll have to try harder next time, my love.”

He was getting too cocky now.

“If I tried harder, you would have a hard time getting up in the morning, my love.” You teased.

Jason’s eyes widened. A second to process what you said, then a brazen look in his eye appeared.

“What if that’s my plan all along, my love?” He shamelessly asked.

You leaned in closer to Jason’s side, hiding your voice away from the other customers in the shop.

“One of us isn’t going to be able to walk and it won’t be me.” You joked, both of you laughing at one another. You moved away from Jason. “I think we better stop before we get kicked out, your Ghost jokes earlier already have us on the instructor’s last straw. If it’s not cringy jokes, we’ll be kicked out for indecency.”

“There goes my plans of making out next to the kiln.” Jason shook his head. “I guess it would be bad if we couldn’t pick up our mugs later.”

Your eyes widened at your boyfriends hidden plans. A small twinkle of mischievousness in his eyes.

“We have to change up our make out spots once in a while, can’t let them catch on.” You playfully nudged his arm.

Jason smiled and brought your hands up to his mouth, a small kiss on your knuckles that were covered in paint.

A flutter inched in your stomach at the brief contact.

“Then we should schedule a knitting class tomorrow.”

[dilfl0v3rss]

quiet!choso

quiet!choso who has no problem being out by himself, but refuses to talk in any other way than a hushed tone in public. only using his regular voice at home or with family, but he still barely spoke in full sentences.

quiet!choso always looks to you to order for him. voice too deep and quiet for waiters and drive threw workers to hear him so he always just lets you do it.

“i’ll take the number five with fruit punch as the drink pleaseee.” you chirped into the receiver. pretty skirt riding up your thighs as you leaned halfway over the center console to order your food.

“okay! anything else?” the employee asked. you looked at choso, who stared deep in thought at the menu before moving his lips towards your ear. “same thing…please” you smiled at how soft spoken he was, giving him a quick peck on the cheek for his cuteness before giving the woman his order.

quiet!choso who not only speaks quietly, but moves in silence as well. there has been too many times where your soul has left your body because this man has come home from work without making a sound. just quietly changing his clothes before sitting on the couch to watch his shows.

you were in the main bathroom, just getting done with some cleaning. your earphones were playing sza softly in your ears as you hummed along to her voice. as you walked from the toilet to the shower, you glanced out the door and your heart dropped to your ass. there was a man on your couch, hood on his head as he sat comfortably watching tv. you covered your mouth from the scream that you wanted to release before quietly reaching for your phone to call your boyfriend.

since you hid in the tub, you missed the part where choso pulled his phone from his pocket, giving it a confused look before answering it. ‘why is she calling me if i’m home?’ he thought as he quietly spoke to you through the receiver. “hello?” he instantly grew worried at your shaky breaths, quietly getting up from the couch before slowly walking to where he saw you cleaning. “t-there’s a man in the house”

choso stopped in his tracks, turning around before looked around the empty living room and kitchen. “where?” he said softly walking towards the small black pistol he kept deep in the cushion of his recliner. he slowly pulled the weapon out, being as quiet as possible before walking towards your bedroom to further his inspection. “h-he in the living room. got a black hoodie on with his hood up. looks pretty big too.” choso took a deep breath, rolling his eyes as he realized his mistake. you always told him to let you know when he’s home if he doesn’t see you when he walks in the door, but of course he forgot. “mama that’s me. i’m home from work” before he could say anything else you hung up, standing up from the tub before walking out into the living room with your arms crossed.

“choso bring your ass over here right now boy!”

quiet!choso who even though is seen as an antisocial guy, goes out with you to parties and get togethers. always giving you the same quiet speech about how “a man doesn’t need a voice to keep his woman safe”.

quiet!choso who doesn’t really care what people think of him, letting his brothers and friends call him all types of names without getting irritated in the slightest.

“she already do the talking so i’m guessing she be doing to fucking too” his middle brother sukuna said with a chuckle. choso, yuji, and sukuna agreed to have “bro bonding” (clearly yuji made the name) every other weekend to “keep their relationship strong”. this time it was being held at sukuna’s cave house where the three of them ate takeout and played on the game. “kuna leave em aloneee. there’s nothing wrong with letting your woman have control” his youngest brother said, large hand outstretched on choso’s back as he gave it a small rub.

“man cut the bullshit. even yuji don’t let bitches do that shit. you should hear the sounds that be comin outta my guest room when he crashes here wit a some random broad from a party.” yuji covered his face in embarrassment, making his older brothers chuckle. choso felt if he were to tell anyone how life was at home, it would be the two knuckleheads he was raised with. a small smirk planted on his face, tattooed hands gripping his controller a little tighter as he spoke.

“if my girl ‘ran’ me, don’t you think she’d be doing whatever she wanted? when we go out, why do you think she rather sit by me than go shake her ass with her friends like she usually used t’do?” sukuna and yuji’s eyes widened, giving choso a shocked look before the two of them looked at each other.

quiet!choso who doesn’t need to talk for you to know what he’s trying to say. settling for stern looks and a tap on your thigh, ass if nobody’s looking, as a warning to get you to act right.

quiet!choso who sometimes had to use rougher tactics to correct you when you’re out of line.

“say it again” choso groaned, long girthy dick rearranging your guts as he held you up by your hair. “i w–won’t cuss at daddy” you moaned, back grazing his broad tattooed chest. wrists bound together by fuzzy grey cuffs as you dug your nails into your palms. you were so frustrated earlier that you may have let a couple curse words slip into your vocabulary while texting choso, but regardless of your instant apology, he told you to be stripped and ready for him in the bed by the time he got home from work. now you were paying for your disrespect through taking all 8.5 inches of him without complaint.

“say it louder mama. daddy can’t hear you clearly through all that moaning” choso chuckled as he listened to you whine, pretty breasts bouncing with every thrust as you tried to speak clearly for the fifth time tonight. “i won’t c-cuss at daddy ever again! fuck m’gonna cummm” he rolled his eyes, pace never faltering as he fucked you through your third orgasm of the night. choso’s inked hand abruptly let go of your hair, making a chuckle slip as he watched you fall to the bed with a huff, hands not able to stop you.

“now you cursing right at me. gon be here all night if you don’t clean it up princess”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

“Mom, we should get going,” you say as you check your bag.

Your mother sits at the table. It’s cluttered as always. You can see her inhaler amid the mess. Wait, there’s another one. You cross the kitchen, only two steps, and grab both inhalers. You feel the subtle difference between them.

You take both, putting the full one back in the medicine cabinet and the other in the disposal bin. The doctor said the inhalent would help with your mother’s dopamine levels, balances her out a little, but the new treatment only seems to be another symptom of her disease. She hates doing it, she hates all of it, but you can’t blame her for that.

“We can’t be late for the consultation. We’ll be waiting another six months,” you come back to the kitchen.

She looks at you as she wobbles slightly. The tremor is more prominent than before. Each day you notice it more. All the little things changing about her. She’s a bit slower, her words don’t come easy or always clearly, and her mood grows grimmer and grimmer. So does yours.

You grab your purse and the keys. You’ll clean up when you get home. It doesn’t take very long for living to pile up though. Especially when you’re the only one to keep it in order.

Your mother grips the table and stands up. Getting her dressed was a battle already won. Her posture is slightly crooked as she shuffles around the table, “I’m moving.”

You step back, waiting patiently for her to round the table. She grumbles. Your mother was never bright and bubbly but ever since her diagnosis, she’s lost any glimmer of warmth. It’s like she’s living in a fog, just slowly wading through.

You walk down the hall ahead of her and pick out your shoes from the rack. As you kneel to tie your sneakers, she leans on the wall and slides her feet into the orthotic flats. She’s not very old yet. Neither of you expected her to decline so quickly.

You stand and open the door. You back up though the screen door and hold it for her. Her steps get a bit smoother the more she moves around. The permanent scowl sinks into the lines of her face as she comes out onto the porch. You lock the door behind her as she grunts and leans on the railing, stamping down each step to the walkway.

You follow behind her. That’s another problem. The lawn. The old mower broke. You haven’t been able to replace it.

As you trail your mother to the car, she swats you away. Sometimes you try too much for her. You know she must feel helpless. You back up as she sits heavily in the passenger seat and your eyes skim around the neighbourhood. The white sign on the lawn next to yours catches your eye.

You remember the finely dressed woman, her very image on the sign, and how she grimaced at the weeds and grass. If she’s going to sell the property, the neighbours shouldn’t be living in a jungle. You heard her say as much over the phone as she paced back and forth on the porch.

You mother pulls the door shut but it doesn’t click. You give it an extra push to secure it and round the hood. You get in the car and turn the key, rolling down the windows as the early summer morning crowds the tight space. Your mother mutters and wipes her forehead with a shaky hand.

“Let’s just go,” she sneers, “waste of my time...” she bends her arm over the open window, her fingers quivering, “damn doctors said it enough. Nothing they can do. Charlatans.”

“Mom,” you chide gently, “the surgery could help. If you qualify--”

“I heard ya last night,” she snaps. “Just drive.”

You nod and snap your mouth shut. You shift into reverse and back out of the drive. You know better than to talk too much. Your mother never liked hearing anything she didn’t want to hear. Facts are just an attack on her.

You steer down the street slowly, following the curve of the suburban street. The green lawns and white picket fences are palatial at first glance. It’s a 1950s fever dream implanted in the twenty-first century.

Your house is the black stain on an otherwise pristine canvas. The HOA must curse your grandmother for her leaving a perfectly nice home to a pair of beatnicks. You don’t blame them. You’re the puzzle piece that doesn’t fit, leaving a gaping hole in the picture.

The radio crackles on and you wince. Your mother struggles to turn the knob and the volume pendulums up and down. You reach to help her and she smacks your hand, only softly as she has little strength behind it. You retract and grip the wheel, listening to buzzing struggle of her unsteady. You just hope the appointment goes well.

🏠

Your mother hasn’t said much since the appointment. That worries you. What should be good news is just another dark cloud over her.

She sits as she often does; half-reclined in the chair by the window, watching the neighbourhood just outside the pane. She’s just a resentful of the picture-perfect neighbours as she if of everything else. As she is of you.

You tidy the kitchen table as the unsaid dangles in the air. You know better than to bring it up. She barely acknowledged it when the doctor said it. She’s a good candidate for surgery but it isn’t a cure. It will help with the symptoms but not stop them altogether. It’s not good enough for her but it might just be her only hope of relief, even if temporary.

“Bring me a coke,” your mother calls through and you hear the hollow tin clatter of an empty can.

You bring the dirty dishes to the sink and set them beside it. You go to the fridge to grab a red branded can and let the door shut on its own. As you enter the living room, your mother sits forward, the recliner snapping forward with her weight. She leans on and elbow as she squints through the window and cranes over the armrest.

You pick up the old can and put the new one on the small table by the chair. She sits back and takes the Coke, trembling as she struggles to crack the tab. You know better than to help her. The curl in her lip warns you better.

“Someone’s looking at the place next door,” she says.

“Oh?” You move behind her chair and try to the next house. You can only really see the edge of the porch from here. You could open the side window but that would give more than a view of the siding and might be too obvious. “New neighbours.”

“Eh, if it sells. Could do better without these stuck-up prissy bitches running around measuring grass,” she growls of the Home Owners’ Association.

You nod. She’s right. You’ve had to deal with that nosy blonde too many times.

“We’ll see,” she mutters as she finally gets the can open and slurps. “Just hope it’s not another bitch.”

You cross your arms and step closer to the window. You sense movement just beyond your vision and the realtor in her pantsuit comes down the front steps of the neighbouring house. She turns back to face someone you can’t see and speaks to him. Their words are garbled by the barrier of window and wall.

The woman smiles and spins to strut down to the sidewalk. A man follows after, a slow stroll in his long legs. He turns to face the house again and puts his hands in his pockets as he looks up at the facade. His eyes narrow as he considers it.

His gray hair is streaked with remnants of its former blond. If it wasn’t for the colour of his locks, you might not have guessed his age. He’s tall and his shoulders are broad. He’s built finely for any era.

Your mother leans forward again, “heh, lookie there,” she slurs.

She leers through the window as you stare blankly out. A new neighbour just means another person to complain about the lawn; or another person for your mother to complain about. The man pivots on his sole and pauses, his gaze set in your direction. You don’t think he can see you, not with how the sun reflects off the square panes. He stalls for just a moment before he turns complete, striding up towards the realtor.

You back up and retreat toward the kitchen. You mother hums as she continues to snoop through the window. The recliner squeaks beneath her as she shifts in the seat.

“Bit old for a family man,” she tuts.

[castillon02]

When Jason starts to prioritize cooperation as well as vengeance, Tim suspects Jason's self-control still isn't that great. Since he's Tim, well...

He conducts some tests.

Hood is about to murder someone that they need information from when Tim calls out, "Hey, Hood, has anyone ever told you that you're a Decepticon wannabe who probably fucks himself to the sound of his own robot voice?"

Hood stills.

The drug dealer who sold tenth-grader Benny Garcia fentanyl gapes in a way that shows off his recently-missing teeth.

Hood drops the dealer in a heap and turns his shitkicker combat boots in Tim's direction.

Tim bolts. Batman will swoop in to continue the dealer's interrogation; he and Hood have figured out a good-cop-bad-cop thing, though Batman still seems bemused about the chance to be 'good cop.'

Hood races after him.

---

Tim makes it to a safe house off of Robinson Park. He probably lost Hood about half an hour ago, but it never hurts to be careful. Especially when---oh, shit.

"This place is filthy," Jason says, sitting on the kitchen counter that Tim never uses and looking with disdain at Tim's collection of empty energy drink cans, takeout boxes, and crime yarn. Jason's not wearing his helmet or domino, and he taps his boot heels softly against the cabinet door like a little kid. Not exactly danger signals.

But for a moment, all Tim can look at is the boots. It's stupid; the knife at his neck was closer to fatal. But the kicking had hurt the worst.

"Since you apparently have time to run your mouth," Jason says, "and since someone stole my target, it seems like we both have time to clean up in here. I went out and got trash bags." He nudges a box on the counter next to him. The trash bags are the sturdy kind, not the flimsy cheap kind or the extra-strength hide-the-body-parts kind.

Tim has been meaning to get trash bags for this place for three weeks. It's just that he doesn't visit often, and when he does it's usually when he's injured or tired, and he could get things delivered but that's a paper trail he could avoid if he just made time to visit the bodega down the street... "You're a trash bag," he says, even though it doesn't make sense.

Jason rolls his eyes. "Just for that, we're mopping the floor too. Luckily, I came prepared." He hops down from the counter and opens the little mystery closet next to the fridge. Inside: a broom, a Swiffer, a bucket, a pack of scrub brushes still in their plastic, and a jug of bleach.

Ohhh, that's why the closet is so narrow. It's supposed to hold cleaning supplies. Right. Tim definitely knew that. Tim definitely doesn't just have a roll of paper towels...somewhere...that he sometimes puts dish soap on.

He squints at Jason. Still no green danger-eyes. "Darcy and Elizabeth would never let you be part of a throuple with them," he tries.

Jason pulls out a trash bag. "They've got issues anyway."

"Helen Keller would make up new words so she could sign how ugly your face is."

"She was a socialist," Jason says. He holds the bag and gestures at Tim's kitchen table. "So we'd probably just talk about organizing the working class. I don't think looks would come into it. Also, way to be a dick."

"You're so pathetic that Jane Eyre would give up on you like she didn't give up on Rochester," Tim says, figuring he did the research for this attack, so he might as well use it.

Jason actually laughs a little bit. "First of all, there's a lot of power exchange going on in that decision, so jot that down," he says. "Second of all." He looks Tim in the face. "If I start to lose my temper, I'll leave, okay? Or you can just ask me to."

"Even if I asked right now?" Tim asks.

"Even if you asked right now," Jason confirms, though he eyeballs Tim's mess.

Jason's still holding the trash bag. Hands out, open body language, seemingly not homicidal.

Tim had planned for a lot of things with this encounter, including a body bag. Trash bags weren't one of his considered variables. He starts picking up empty cans. "This one can be for recycling," he says, dumping the cans into Jason's bag. New things from old materials. Jason likes that symbolism shit, right?

(Though...new things. Old materials. If there's anyone who ought to be good at that, it's someone who got raised from the dead.

Tim smirks and keeps the thought to himself. Operation: Limitless has been a startling success; he doesn't need to verbalize all his inside thoughts now.)

("Kid, I can tell you're thinking about a zombie joke," Jason says anyway. "You can only tell me after we've brought this shit-heap back to life.")

[nosyrobin]

THE WHITE BAT

prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

A/n: sorry if this was short, I’m tired! >.<

Summary: the aftermath of Damian’s injury forces the white knight to reveal themselves to the boy wonder. Helping him heal as his family goes to find him, only to see he has came home safely.

After closing the injury, Damian passed out along with the white knight that helped him. Since the white bat is in their safe haven, they fell asleep by the tan boy who couldn’t help but smile in their presence.

Waking up, Damian felt arms wrapped around him. Turning around, he’s face with a person in a white jacket, the hood over their face and a grey sweats. Damian felt his face heat up as he realized who the person was.

Damian immediately pushed away from the sleeping body that snored loudly. Damian felt his cheek rise along with the beats of his heart. He couldn’t fathom being by the person that saved him and the person who practically is his so called “partner in crime.” Along with being friends at least.

Damian tried to get up out of the bed only to wince. Hissing, he touched the spot where he hit shot. Frowning as he will most definitely get a scolding..no maybe even grounded for life and put on surveillance to not sneak out anymore. Like a prisoner.

Either way, he has his ways of breaking things into his hands. As he checked out the homemade stitches and bandaging, he failed to notice a certain person had sat up.

“Good mornin' Damian…” the voice said, making Damian turn around so quick he might’ve gave himself whip lash. Either way he looks at you in shock. “I….i appreciate your help on my wound..I am in your debt when you need me.”

The figure snickered, still looking down as they just patted the tan boy’s head. “Dude, relax. You don’t need to be all like that..” lifting their head up. You could easily see their face. Damian’s world seemed to stop as he couldn’t help but stare at their face. It was like a painting that was made to be stared at. It was perfection to him.

“I know you won’t tell my identity to anyone since I haven’t about yours..” you sat up straight, holding your hand out for a hand shake.

“I’m Y/N L/N…a teen that has mutant abilities of bats..along with powers.” They said, with pink glowing eyes meeting those sweet emeralds ones.

Time passed as Damian showed up to the manor, more like got dropped off by a giant bat that was his partner in crime. Damian smiled as he waved goodbye to the bat. Closing his window. It was quiet in the big mansion. A little too quiet as he walked around, even Alfred wasn’t in the kitchen which was strange.

Damian goes to the library, going to a certain shelf and going into a certain bat cave. That’s when he heard his father’s gruff voice speak out.

“Dick, Jason, you go to the latest spot Damian was for patrol while Tim and I go check—" Bruce stopped when the tracking said that Damian was here. In the manor, getting up from his chair. The boys and the big man turn to face a certain young boy who stood there with a confused face and clean clothes.

“Where have you been?!”

White bat!Reader tag: @minkyungseokie @amber-content @chibiduck

[baelabong]

ʜᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ

(ᴡᴏɴʏᴏᴜɴɢ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ) - ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ

plot: “i come bearing snacks” on a rainy day

notes: no warnings, rq by @arimiu because this wy fluff is too cute

The rain had started suddenly, a downpour that seemed to come out of nowhere. Y/N was halfway to Wonyoung’s apartment when the sky opened up, soaking her to the bone before she could find shelter. But instead of turning back, she pulled her hood tighter, clutching the bag of snacks she had brought along and making a beeline for Wonyoung’s place.

When Y/N finally reached the door, she was drenched, her clothes sticking to her skin and her hair plastered to her face. She knocked, shivering slightly from the cold, but a small smile played on her lips. She knew Wonyoung wouldn’t mind.

The door swung open, and Wonyoung stood there, tall and dry, an amused smile tugging at her lips. “Well, don’t you look like a drowned rat?”

“Thanks,” Y/N replied with a laugh, holding up the soggy bag of snacks. “I come bearing gifts.”

Wonyoung chuckled, stepping aside to let Y/N in. “You’re a mess, you know that?”

“I tried,” Y/N said, kicking off her wet shoes and stepping inside. “It started raining so suddenly, I didn’t have a chance to run.”

Wonyoung shook her head fondly, reaching out to take the snacks from Y/N’s hands. “Let me get you something dry to wear. You’re going to catch a cold.”

Y/N followed Wonyoung into her bedroom, dripping water onto the hardwood floors. Wonyoung rummaged through her closet and pulled out an oversized hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. “Here, these should fit. Sort of.”

Y/N took the clothes with a grateful smile. “Thanks, Won.”

“No problem,” Wonyoung replied, leaning against the doorframe as Y/N started to change. The hoodie was far too big, the sleeves covering Y/N’s hands entirely, and the sweatpants hung loosely around her waist, but they were warm and dry, and they smelled like Wonyoung—clean and comforting.

Y/N looked up at Wonyoung, who was watching her with a soft smile, her dark eyes full of affection. “What?” Y/N asked, her cheeks warming under Wonyoung’s gaze.

“You look adorable,” Wonyoung said, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around Y/N, pulling her into a warm embrace. “Like you’re wearing your big brother’s clothes.”

“Hey!” Y/N protested, laughing as she buried her face in Wonyoung’s chest, the warmth of her body soothing the chill that had seeped into her bones. “I’m not that small!”

Wonyoung chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of Y/N’s head. “No, you’re just the right size.”

They stayed like that for a moment, Y/N nestled in Wonyoung’s arms, the sound of the rain tapping against the windows. It was so easy, so natural, to be in Wonyoung’s embrace. Y/N felt safe here, protected by Wonyoung’s presence.

“Let’s go to the couch,” Wonyoung suggested, pulling away slightly. “I’ll make us some tea.”

“Okay,” Y/N agreed, reluctantly stepping back and letting Wonyoung lead her to the living room.

After Wonyoung disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, Y/N eyed the snacks she brought, an idea forming in her mind. “What if we bake something?”

Wonyoung reappeared, two steaming mugs of tea in hand. “Bake something? You mean with these?” She raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the soggy snack bags.

Y/N grinned, pulling a packet of chocolate chips from the pile. “This one survived. We can make cookies or something. What do you think?”

Wonyoung sat beside her, draping an arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “Hmm, sounds cozy. I’ll grab the flour and sugar. We can make a mess together.”

Laughing, Y/N followed Wonyoung into the kitchen, the oversized sleeves of the hoodie making it difficult to hold anything properly. As they pulled out ingredients, the kitchen quickly filled with the sounds of clattering bowls and giggles.

“You’re going to get flour everywhere,” Wonyoung teased, wiping a streak of flour off Y/N’s cheek with her thumb.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Y/N shot back with a playful smirk, flicking a bit of flour at Wonyoung in retaliation.

As they mixed the dough together, Wonyoung couldn’t help but sneak a few chocolate chips into her mouth, earning a mock scolding from Y/N. “At this rate, we won’t have any left for the cookies!”

“You act like I care,” Wonyoung teased back, grinning as Y/N rolled her eyes.

Once the cookies were in the oven, the two settled back onto the couch, this time sharing the snacks Y/N had brought. Wonyoung grabbed a bag of chips and ripped it open. “Soggy or not, these still taste good,” she said, offering some to Y/N.

Y/N took a handful, leaning back against Wonyoung, the warmth of the kitchen now mixing with the coziness of their shared moment. The rain outside had slowed to a soft patter, creating a calming rhythm that matched their relaxed pace.

“You know, this turned out better than I thought,” Y/N murmured between bites.

Wonyoung smiled, her arm still wrapped securely around Y/N. “Of course it did. I’m here, aren’t I?”

Y/N rolled her eyes again, but the warmth in her chest told her she couldn’t argue. They sat there in comfortable silence, enjoying the simple, shared moment as the smell of freshly baked cookies began to fill the air.

As the timer went off, Wonyoung stood to retrieve the cookies from the oven, pulling Y/N along with her. Together, they pulled out the golden-brown treats, letting them cool just enough to eat.

They took their first bites, the warmth of the chocolate melting in their mouths. Wonyoung leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to Y/N’s cheek. “Not bad for a rainy day snack.”

Y/N smiled, savoring the taste and the moment. “I couldn’t have asked for a better one.”

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 76

Tim has no idea whether to laugh or cry. Bruce sends him away from Gotham to stay safe from Red Hood, yet who is standing there, in the Titan Tower, but the man himself. And if he was attacking or something then fine, he could deal with it. But no, the man is standing there, in the kitchen, cooking like it’s an everyday thing. Like sure he’s cooking angrily and Tim swears he can see some sort of eye glow in the helmet, but it’s not like he’s actually threatening any of them?? The literal crime lord has been hissing about them not having any food and being out of medical supplies and who decided to leave a bunch of teens alone to take care of themselves. Which. Rude, he’s been taking care of himself for years, and both Raven and Beast Boy have too! What type of scheme is this?!

Jason was going to go through with his attack on the Tower, he really was. But seriously, they didn’t even have any medical supplies, their cupboards were practically empty of food, and they didn’t even have any cleaning supplies. For fuck’s sake he’d gotten in so easily and it was a giant tower shaped like a T- everyone knew where it was! Honestly it’s not his fault the pit rage went from being pissed to the literal child- which uh, huh he’ll have to freak out about that later- to raging about how he took better care of the alley kids than the heroes were taking care of their kids so guess whose going to have to fucking step up! 

[aph-centric-fixs]

hello!!! i just found your blog and i desperately need more gene x reader fics ‼️ if you pretty please wouldn't mind writing a short n sweet (or it can be as long as you want i won't mind lmao) fic abt just the softness of dating gene? i'm not sure how else to describe it but i just want like some domestic bliss with him because he always seems so stressed/upset yk? anyways enough yapping out of me, i hope you're having a good day and no pressure to write this at all!! tysm!!

The weirdly domestic life

Oh my goodness yes! Gene definitely needs that domestic bliss in his life.

Gene x Reader (Gender neutral)

CW// nothing I believe? Other than the writing 🫶

In all honesty, Gene never saw himself living a life with someone else: like probably a roommate, but never a romantic partner. Not that he was complaining, really, he was grateful to have you in his life.

It all sort of came crashing down on him one night, after a long shift. The walk home was cold, extremely so, because of course today of all days he had to grab a jacket without a hood the night it rains. Then his keys kept slipping away from the keyhole, he swore the key was going to snap in half from how aggressive he was trying to get it in.

Practically slamming the apartment door shut behind him, he let out a sigh and kicked off his shoes. Leaning on the door his head leaned back and he just tried to calm down.

"Gene?" He heard. His head fell back down to look at you, a small smile gracing his face at the sight. Your pajamas were adorable, as always.

"Hey sweetheart" he muttered, walking towards you and wrapping his arms around your torso. His head burying itself into your shoulder.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and pet at the top of his neck to play with his hair. "Everything okay?" You asked, using your other hand to pat his back a little.

"Just peachy" he responded, holding you even closer to himself while taking a long and deep breath. It was comfortable in your arms, so safe.

The two of you stood like that for awhile, in the entrance of your apartment just holding each other. To Gene, it was like the whole world had stopped the second you wrapped your arms around him, like nothing bad could ever happen to him with such a caring person by his side.

But, all good things must come to an end, as you slowly pulled away and took his hands in yours. "Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" You smiled at him, and as he nodded to agree you began to walk to the bathroom.

You sat him gently in the toilet seat and opened a cabinet to grab a towel. Unfolding it you gently laid it on his head, leaving his face clear, and gently dried his hair off slowly. It felt good, like a massage, to Gene. Just what he needed after a long day.

"you go change, I'll finish up dinner, okay?" You smile and lean down to kiss him. He leans forward as you pull away and leave.

It didn't take long for him to change into comfortable clothes, pajamas are real easy to get into. Simple plaid loose pants and a shirt were what he usually wore, but he changed it up a little and went with a hoodie instead. It felt good to have after a long day.

Walking into the kitchen he was you plating everything, holding two bowls next to the pot of what he assumed was a stew of sorts- at least it smelled like it.

"Stew?" He asked, watching you jump with a chuckle, he didn't mean to scare you but it was absolutely hilarious.

"Oh, yeah. I couldn't think of anything else to make today, guess it worked out" You answered. You turned around and handed him a bowl. He could easily see all the veggies and what he thought was beef in the bowl swirling around deliciously.

"C'mon, you can pick the show tonight" you said while walking past him, tugging on his hoodie a little as you did to lead him over to the couch.

"How gracious of you" with a giggle from you as a reply, he sat down next to you. As he scrolled through movies you leaned on his arm, and in return he leaned his head on yours slightly.

Gene never saw himself having a life like this. But damn it if he wasn't grateful to have it, to have you.

[thealtoduck]

Sensitive

Jason Todd x Male Reader

Warnings: Superhero violence, attempted robbery, you don’t know Jason = Red Hood…

The Socialite and The Vigilante | Masterlist

Summary: After leaving a party someone attempts to rob you, which gives you a bit of a wake up call…

(A/n: Idk i just liked the idea of continuing the Jason x Silver St. Cloud’s son!Reader fic.)

——

Music and drunken slurred farewells followed you out of the party venue. You waved your friends goodbye as they got into their cars and made your way down the sidewalk texting your chauffeur where to pick you up. You put your phone back in your pocket and tightened your coat.

You decided to take a quick short cut through an alley way which would turn out to be a mistake. Next thing you know you felt someone roughly grab your shoulder, a man then punched you in the stomach and threw you to the ground, the man standing over you then pulled out a switchblade and pointed it towards you.

”Empty your pockets” the man demanded. You quickly did as told and with trembling hands brought out your phone and wallet. The man snatched them away from you and shoved them in his pocket and moved to run away.

But a thud came from further down the dark alley and moments later the man had been knocked out. A vigilante wearing a red helmet standing over his body, the vigilante collected what had been stolen from you from the man’s pocket and then made his way over to you.

”You alright?” a muffled voice came from beneath his helmet as he reached out a hand to help you up. ”Yeah, thank you” you said grabbing his hand, he helped you to your feet but didn’t let go. ”Your hand is bleeding” he said studying a small cut on your palm.

”It’s fine, i’ll clean it once i get home but thank you for saving me” you thanked him. ”Okay, stay safe” he said and gave you your wallet and phone and let you pass him. You quickly made your way out of the alley before more trouble could find you.

Your chauffeur pulled up beside you letting you get in the passenger seat. He then drove you back to your apartment. Once you entered you changed to a simple t-shirt and sweatpants. You went in to the bathroom and checked yourself over. You only had the cut on your hand and some minor scrapes on your right elbow. You cleaned them and then went to bed.

When you woke up you dragged yourself out of bed and to the kitchen where you started making some coffee. While you did there was a knock on the door. You made your way over and opened it revealing Jason Todd. ”Morning” he said.

”Hey Jason, what are you doing here?” you said giving him a quick hug. ”Suprise visit” he stated and handed you a paper bag. ”I got us some croissants” he stated. ”Thanks, come in, i’ll pour us some coffee” you said and Jason came inside.

”What happened to your hand?” he questioned as he took of his shoes and jacket. ”Oh that… this guy tried to mug me last night and one of Batman’s sidekicks saved me” you stated pouring two cups of coffee. ”Really, which one?” Jason said.

”I don’t know there’s too many…” you said and then tried ”Red… Helmet?”. Jason looked a bit taken aback and said ”I’m pretty sure it’s Red Hood”. ”Oh, then why is he wearing a helmet and not a hood…?” you countered, which left Jason at a loss for words as he took a sip of coffee.

”I don’t think i’d describe Red Hood as one of Batman’s sidekicks, i think he’s got his own thing going on” Jason stated as you gave Jason his croissant and then took a bite of your own. ”But he still wears the bat sign on his chest plate… so he kinda is” you added which left Jason silent again.

”Whatever” Jason said grumpily, eating part of his croissant. You ruffled Jason’s hair and saying teasingly ”Sorry if offended, Red Hood’s number one fan”. Jason smiled and wrapped and arm around your waist and uttred ”It’s okay”.

You sat down besides Jason and said ”Yesterday made me realise something too, i want take self defense classes, in case someone tries anything again which probably will happen cause this is Gotham”.

”Really… Is Y/n St. Clould gonna become a vigilante now?” Jason joked, you gave him a look and asked ”You don’t think i could do it?”. Jason didn’t know what the right answer would be here so he tried ”I-Uhm sure… but i don’t want you too because you could get hurt”.

”Good save” you said but added ”If you’re ever in danger though Jay, i would become a superhero so i can save you”. Jason smiled and said ”How about you stop by the manor later? I could teach you some boxing stuff?”.

”Sure” you answered and then realised and questioned ”Since when do you know boxing?”.

[lovelettersforthedamned]

Idkidk mean or depressed peter trying to push you away bc he’s afraid of falling for reader (he already is) but one night reader catches him after a nasty fight and cleans him up and sexy times happens but he’s finally opening up to her?

It’s Not Your Fault, It’s Mine!

--genre + trope: hurt/comfort, college!au, angst, flufffff.

--pairing: college!tasm!peter parker x college!gn!reader

--word count: 1.5k

--summary: something has been off about your friend, peter. he's been giving you the cold shoulder, and one bad night leads to the reason why he's been so distant.

--warnings: mentions of blood (bleeding nose), peter gets kinda mean, mention of alcohol, bruises, hurt/comfort, FLUFF.

There’s been a weird tension between you and Peter lately. Although you two are strictly friends, Peter has always been quite touchy. Both of your friends have seen you snuggled up next to him at parties, and holding hands while walking through campus. It was never weird for you and you never noticed how comfortable you were doing it until Peter stopped initiating it entirely. 

The beginning of the week seemed fine, October brings midterms, which means more work, for the both of you. It began to get harder to find time to see Peter, either you were in class, or he was busy. 

That’s how it was the entire week, until Thursday. You finally scheduled a time to hang out at his apartment to watch a movie and get takeout. As you head up the flights of stairs to Peter’s place, a weird pit in your stomach continues to drop, making you anxious. After finally reaching his apartment and knocking, he opens the door. You could’ve blinked and missed it, but right under his jaw was a sickening black and blue bruise, along with some dried blood right under his nose. His hood from his jacket is up, who knows what else he could be hiding underneath it. 

Once he opens the door, he immediately turns away, trying hard not to let you look at his face further. Walking in quickly, you shut the door behind you, “What the fuck happened?”

Still facing away from you, he walks towards the fridge, opens it, and takes a long look inside. “Nothing happened,” a monotone voice meets your ears.

He reaches deep into the fridge and pulls out a beer, opening it and taking a swig as he leans against the kitchen counter. You take a few steps toward him until you’re in his direct line of sight. Reaching up to inspect his face more, his hand comes up to swat you away.

You open your mouth to speak, but you are quickly interrupted by the boy in front of you, “(Y/N), can we talk?”

This catches your attention fully, crossing your arms as you peer up at him, frustration lighting your body on fire, “Sure.”

“Whatever we are, or whatever this is,” his eyes are avoiding contact with yours at all costs, he’s nervous, “I don’t want to be involved with you anymore, and I don’t want to see you around anymore.” 

Your once worried demeanor turns into one of shock. You suddenly feel like a deer in headlights, the warm air of Peter’s apartment now becoming too hot. Taking a step back, you speak before your mind can think of a real sentence, “What?”

“I’m telling you to leave, (Y/N),” his tone coming out harsher. His gaze finally meets yours, and he regrets he ever dared to look. Your lower lash line is filled with tears that are threatening to spill at any second. In reality, Peter would never in a million years tell you this, but fuck, does the thought of you scare him terribly. 

He was comfortable in this safe middle ground of romance with you, there were no titles, strings, or commitments. It was nice having you, you brought a familiar sense of safety wherever you went. Maybe that’s why Peter gravitated towards you. 

He thought he was going crazy one night, his mind had seemed to collapse at the mere thought of you. There was no escaping the thought of your smile, the warmth you brought to him, and the way your touch lit up his skin. All he could think of was you, and it was killing him. He wanted whatever you had to stay where it was, but it seemed impossible the more he thought of you. In all honesty, he’s afraid to love you. 

Stepping back from him, your voice starts to shake, “You don’t mean that.” 

“Please…please, just leave (Y/N),” his head dips, a tear falling from his eye, “just go.”

Looking at his slouched form, you bite your lip to prevent it from wobbling anymore. You remain there for a second, hoping that this is some sick dream, you’re waiting to wake up from it at any second. 

Peter still sees your feet planted in front of him, he finally looks back up at you, but now his nose is bleeding again. Wiping the sleeve of his jacket against his nose, the fabric is now stained with the deep liquid. “Fuck,” he mutters to himself before he turns around to face the sink, turning on the water and running his sleeve under it. 

You walk silently behind him, reaching your hand up to rest on his back and leaning into his arm. This time, he doesn’t push you away. You stay there for a few minutes before he turns to face you completely, “I’m sorry.” That’s all he says before he falls into your frame, wrapping you in a hug so tight that you almost can’t breathe. Pushing your second wave of shock and confusion aside, you hug him back. You’re not sure what was going on, but what you did know was that he needs you right now. And although the words he spewed at you were harsh, you pushed them aside, because Peter is hurting. 

That was another reason why Peter loved you, you care for people selflessly, even after being hurt by those same people. “Let’s go sit on the couch,” you suggest, grabbing a few tissues before following Peter. Sitting down, you’re able to look at his face closely, noticing his nose first, you grab a tissue to clean him up. There was a gentleness to your touch, he wouldn’t blame you for hurting him more, especially after what he said to you. But no, your touch is feather-like. 

Throwing the dirty tissues on the coffee table, you ask, “Can I take off your hood?” A nod is seen in response. Lifting both hands to pull down his hood, you see another bruise forming on his temple. Your fingers dance over it, scrutinizing it. Even though you barely touched his face, he craves your touch more. Quickly standing up, you make your way back to the fridge and grab a pack of frozen peas from the freezer, along with a kitchen towel to wrap around it. 

As he watches you walk back, all he can think about is how he hurt you. He hurt you and you're helping him. Placing the cold bag on his face, you grab his hand to hold it there. Right as you start to pull away, he traps your hand inside of his, grasping your attention, “I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”

You sigh as you realize what’s about to come up, pulling your hand away from him and putting both your hands in your lap. “Why did you say that? There has to be a reason, right? What did I do?”

His heart cracks at your last question, his outburst caused you to think that you did something wrong. He swallows before responding, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I have no excuse for what I did, and I’m sorry. I just–the thought of us scares me.”

“That’s why we said we would keep this platonic,” you say, “we’re just friends.” That’s what you told everyone, that’s what you told yourself, but you couldn’t keep ignoring that inkling feeling whenever you were with him. There was always a pull towards the feeling of being something more, but the second it popped into your mind, you shut it down immediately. You couldn’t lose Peter. 

He was panicking at your response, was he making a fool out of himself for making this such a big deal? “I know we are,” he starts, dropping the cold bag of peas to the side, “and that’s great, don’t get me wrong, but god (Y/N) you make it so hard to be just that. And it’s so annoying because it’s not your fault! It’s mine! I’m in love with you, and it’s driving me crazy because the thought of you not existing in my life hurts me. There’s not a moment in the day when I am not grateful for you. You have changed my life and you don’t even realize it! Fuck! I am in love with you.”

You look at him with wide eyes, you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it was not that. He’s breathless, panting at his hurried confession. On the inside, he was freaking out, you weren't responding. 

“Can you please say something–”

Your response contains no words, your kiss says enough. 

You softly cradle his head, keeping his bruises in mind. The kiss was soft, a pour of emotions flowing through your lips. Pulling away, you finally give him a verbal response, “I love you too, does that answer it?”

“I don’t know,” he teases, “I think you need to kiss me more to fully confirm your answer.”

“You’re such an idiot, Parker,” you laugh, leaning in to kiss him again. 

--author's note: HELLO!!! thank you so much for the request anon! im sorry, there's not a lot of spiciness in this one:(( my allergies are literally killing me right now, so apologies for posting so late and the lack of posts recently! BUTTTTT, be aware of a fic tomorrow featuring someone else on my masterlist...don't forget to support your writers by liking, commenting, and reblogging! my asks/inbox is open, so send me anything!! ok, bye ily<3

[ancha-aus]

DoubleNoot AU Drabble - Welcome Home

We are back with the adventures of parenthood for Corrupt and the adventures of what the hell is going on for Nightmare! And for the family comedy for the gang.

Last Time on DoubleNoot Adventures! Corrupt took his time to make sure Nightmare was safe before explaining to his mates just who Nightmare was. After a small discussion they all agreed that Nightmare would stay with the Crescents, Corrupt's gang, in the castle.

*--------------------------*

Corrupt takes the time to make sure that Nightmare is still comfortable in his arms before walking down the stairs.

It still shocks him. To see Nightmare whole and alive in his arms. Safe and protected.

His magic literally glowing as he holds the child close. Nightmare himself seems fully distracted by the glowing and the small particals of magic floating up from their magic connecting.

Corrupt takes his time to make his way towards the kitchen. Still shocked at the sight of Nightmare.

Now that he is clean it is so obvious that all his past wounds healed. There isn't a scratch. And Corrupt thinks Nightmare looks a lot better dressed in something other than that prince outfit.

Of course they will need to get him different clothes still but hopefully Cross and Killer found some things for him to wear. Knowing them they will have gotten too much which fits Corrupt perfectly.

Means Nightmare will get to pick which things he likes.

Corrupt glances to the side and is happy to see some locks on certain doors. Foremost the training room is locked up tight. Seems like Dust has been busy.

Corrupt gets to the kitchen and opens the door with one of his tendrils.

Some clanks of pots and pans being moved and Nightmare looks up at the sound as well. Corrupt smiles as he walks into the kitchen and towards his largest mate "Hello Horror."

Hroror looks over and stares fro a moment before smiling "Hello Moonlight." he turns moves a pan around "Food isn't ready quite yet. Bunny is setting the table." Horror moves into their space and Corrupt feels Nightmare tense a little and shrink closer to him. Horror however just kisses the top of Corrupt's skull with a content hum "Buttercup and Cookie are still out."

Corrupt nods "thank you Horror. I will go to Dust in that case." Horror gives another content hum as he kisses the top of his skull again before turning back to the food.

Corrupt walks out of the kitchen to their dining room. Spotting Dust having pulled out the nice dishes as he sets the table. And extra chair already out and by the looks of it dust reorganised them.

Instead of two by two and one chair at the head of the table for Corrupt there are now three chairs on each side.

Dust looks up and nods before going back to laying down the last few forks.

Corrupt walks over to one side of the table and sets Nightmare in a chair. Nightmare starts to tilt and Corrupt catches him quickly. Nightmare looks away embarrassed.

Corrupt rubs his side and mutters "It is alright. You are only just healed and out on your own again." Corrupt notices him still rubbing and petting the young skeleton and pulls his arm back once Nightmare is stable. He is already much too attached to Nightmare.

Dust walks by as he goes to grab somethign from the cabinet but Corrupt cna hear him mutter something "motherhen."

Corrupt shoots his shorter mate a look but the hood remains a dark void. Though Corrupt can sense his amusement.

Corrupt shoots him a look "I know you are being smug."

Dust shrugs as he walks by and puts down glasses. Water glasses and wine glasses. Dust stops by them and leans to the side "what do you want to drink with dinner?"

Nightmare blinks and turns sligthly to stare at Dust "euh... I don't eat?"

Dust snorts "Sorry kid. That won't fly wiht Horror. What do you normally drink?"

Nightmare rubs his hands and the soft sweater he is dressed in. Nightmare looks at Corrupt for help.

Corrupt hums and shrugs "Horror never let me skip a meal and I am even less monster-like than you are." Corrupt smiles "You can always try a little. See if you like the experience. I myself find eating quite appealing and nice."

Nightmare frowns but nods as he keeps playing with the sweater.

Corrupt frowns as he focusses his power. Trying to find what could be bothering him. Insecurity is the one that comes through most clearly. Fear is the next, or better said Anxiety? The need to... do well?

Oh... He wants to fit in maybe?

If Corrupt considers all that he remembers of Nightmare's life. He must be terrified to be seen as wrong again. He had relaxed when he saw that their magics were compatible. He relaxed when it was just them because they are the same. They may look completely different but Corrupt was the same on a fundamental level. Nightmare felt safe and could relax because he knew that Corrupt wouldn't hurt him for what he was.

Corrupt stops himself from rubbing the other's skull "Hey... there is no need to feel unsure... it is always a learning process. Especially when learning about yourself..." He makes one of his tentacles get close to Nightmare and Nightmare immediantly grabs it. Some of the tension in him disappears when he sees the tentacle light up slightly. He starts to knead it, almost like a cat would.

Corrupt makes sure to keep himself calm. He is okay. They all are okay. and Nightmare is with them. Alive and safe.

Corrupt feels calm and relaxed.

And that seems to help Nightmare as Nightmare relaxes slowly.

Seems like feeling another empath nearby and calm helps him as well.

Corrupt speaks softly "It will take time. And that is okay." Everything will take time. Nightmare learning about himself. Learning it is safe. Learning he is free to be who he is. Everything. Corrupt hopes tha tNightmare understands Corrupt means that.

Dust snorts.

Nightmare looks up but slight confusion in him. Corrupt looks over as well. Dust just sits at the table. Feet on the table and lounging as he eats some berries. Strawberries it seems.

Corrupt raises a brow at him "Feet off the table. Also you better still finish your dinner later." Horror gets nervous when they don't eat enough.

Dust snorts and shrugs again as he tosses a strawberry and catches it with his mouth "It is just a tiny snack." he grins at Nightmare "Corrupt may talk up big but it took him ages to actually take part with the meals." and he eats another strawberry.

Nightmare blinks confused as Corrupt shoots his mate a look "Dust."

Dust grins wider as he eats another strawberry "He tried soooo hard to be a mystery. 'do not follow me.' or 'I will be in my study.' or my favourite 'you go help your... mortal needs. I will be working.' Honestly what did he expect us to do? Not bother him until we learned more about him?" he opens a socket and grins "Maybe he shouldn't have looked for us in that case, we are all very observant."

Corrupt wants to be annoyed but he can't. Not when Nightmare just looks at Dust with large sockets. listening to every word. Listening to how Corrupt acted as the very thing all those villagers told Nightmare he was. Yet these monsters decided they wanted to learn more. That they would not just believe the first thing they saw or heard.

Proof. It is actual proof.

Well... Dust is right. Corrupt's mates are all very observant.

Nightmare wiggles a tiny bit in his seat as he speaks "euh... How did you... figure it out?"

Dust hums "It were many things honestly. When we first moved in it was all wild and strange to begin with so we didn't notice as much. But after a while and you settle you start to notice things." he waves his hand around casually as he speaks "First thing we noticed? That when we spoke about out needs Corrupt would act dismissive. but he never forgot about them. Horror mentioned we need specific diets to get nutrients? Corrupt would mention how mortals are complex in their needs but the stuff we needed is always there or we go on missions to get it."

Corrupt sees Ngihtmare look over and he shrugs. it is the truth.

Dust continues "Killer mentions how he really likes cats and would love to help some strays. well suddenly we went by places which had cat stuff and Killer could bring injured ones back to treat before releasing them in safe places."

Nightmare looks confused as he mutters "Cats?" he shoots Corrupt an unsure look.

right... there were no cats in their old universe "Cats are small animals. I am sure if you stay still long enough Killer will show off his newest guest."

Nightmare frowns and nods as he looks down unsure. His hands find the tendril again.

Dust nods "True. Killer is always rather proud of the cats. You will end up meeting them one way or another." he turns his focus away and Corrupt feels Nightmare relax a bit.

Dust yawns "What was I saying?" He stretches as he leans back. Balancing on the two backlegs of the chair "That was just the start. We had arleady been curious and his behaviour didn't match his words. So we started to pay more attention." he grins "You want to know what we noticed?"

Nightmare keeps staring at Dust "What?" curiousity. the need to know. It feels so much better to feel those instead of the other emotions Nightmare had been feeling.

Dust leans to the side as he leans on his fist "We noticed he would watch us relax. When we weren't working but just hanging out and being dumb. He would watch us. At first we thought he may be wanting to learn about our needs more. See what we did and how we functioned and stuff."

Dust shrugs "It was Killer who spotted him once. In the middle of night while we slept Corrupt went over to our gaming console and tried a few games himself."

Nightmare blinks confused and waits.

Dust grins "If you never get an option to try things. How can you know what you like?"

Nightmare blinks and stares at Corrupt and Corrutp nods "It felt... strange. To want to try these things. That in the memories i got I never knew about. It felt dumb to not know what they were and how i thought about them." it had been his first thought. Experience them so he could understand his minions better.

Turns out he found them rather nice.

Corrupt tells NIghtmare as much before he continues "After that I tried some meals with them and found that i quite enjoyed some flavours."

Nightmare frowns as he rubs his hands "But... we don't need them? Why... why would we-or you like them?"

Corrupt shrugs "I just do. Like you liked your books. You didn't need to read or stay busy. But it was nice."

Ngihtmare frowns as Dust shrugs as he studies a strawberry for a moment "You and Corrupt have that in common. Needing to learn yourself and what you like." Dust grins "Corrupt managed. I am sure you will be fine too." and he eats his strawberry.

Nightmare looks down but looks thoughtful instead of unsure. Corrupt sends his mate a smile and hopes it is obvious how thankful he is. Dust notices and just gives him a half shrug as he gets up to put the strawberries away. Now that Corrupt thinks about it. Dust doesn't even like strawberries all that much.

...

Corrupt is going to have to give Dust a very special thank you later.

The door opened and Killer shouts loudly "We are back!"

Nightmare flinches at the sound and Corrupt makes sure to keep his voice level "in the dining room."

Runnign steps and Killer grins widely as he slides in few "Hey Moonlight! Hey Moondrop!"

Nightmare blinks confused at the nickname as Corrupt sends Killer a look "Moondrop?"

Killer grins and nods "Yeah! Because you are moonlight already or jsut moon. and well." he grins wider "You got him so. Moondrop" and he smiles widely.

Corrupt sighs as he rubs his face "And I keep telling you i wasn't pregnant."

Cross walks in as he carries some bags "Hey Corrupt-" he spots Nightmare and jumps slightly "oh. Hey nightmare. Euh... Killer nad I got some stuff." He puts the bags down and smiles nervously "We weren't quite sure on what you liked or what your size was so we grabbed a bunch of different things. Once you find soemthing you like we can obviously get more which we will but there is also no hurry? So don't feel rushed."

Nightmare looks at the bags in shock and Corrupt gives his mate a nuzzle "How about we look at them after dinner? That way we have time to unpack it all and look through it before it is bedtime?" Cross relaxes under his careful nuzzles and easily agrees.

Cross and Killer take care to move the bags towards the living room and clean up for dinner as Dust and Horror walk out fo the kitchen. Dust assisting Horror with moving the food.

Corrupt sees them and frowns "I apologise. I should have helped." He had been so focused on Ngihtamre and-

Horror hums "No problem Moonlight." he puts the pans with warm food on the table.

Killer and Cross join them as Dust prepares the drinks. He leaves some water for Nightmare out. Soemthing easy for him to start eating and drinking after the long sleep he did.

Eventually they are all seated and Horror puts food on their plates. It is a nice stew by the looks of it. With a lot of vegetables and very soft slow cooked meat.

Horror puts a little of the stew in a bowl for Nightmare last and sits back down with his own bowl.

They all quickly start eating as Corrupt watches as Nightmare slowly moves his arm and hand. The arm starts shaking rather quickly and Nightmare frowns at it.

Corrupt hums and leans closer "Do you want me to help you?" his tendrils are alreayd nearby to keep Nightmare stable.

Nightmare glares at his own limb "Why can't i just move it right?" his hands shake badly as he tries to raise his hands.

Corrupt hums as he helps Nightmare try a bit of the stew "Well, I am not surprised. Sleeping and healing for 500 years would do that to anyone." Should he cut some of the pieces? Or are they small enough for Nightmare to chew comfortably?

Silence before a very quiet voice "What?"

Corrutp blinks and looks over just to see Nightmare stare at him desperately "What... Waht do you mean? five... five..." his breahting picks up.

Shit.

Fuck of course he doens't know!

Corrupt lays the cultery down as he keeps his voice calm and quiet "I know it is a lot. I am sorry. I don't know why i thought you knew... I have existed for over 500 years now. I do not know the exact number. You have been asleep for all that time until today."

He woke up today. He woke up from a 500 year long coma and Corrupt hadn't even thought about easing Nightmare into that inforation.

Nightmare shakes as he holds tightly unto the tentacle "But... but that... that can't be... Dream.. I saw Dream! Dream isn't that old!" he looks at him desperate "I can't... I can't have been... gone for so long... I thought... Dream was like adult and stuff... so I thought maybe ten? At most?!" He looks at him begging.

Corrupt feels terrible for disappointing him "I am sorry."

Nightmare lets out a whine as he shakes his skull "There is no way... it can't be... how... how is Dream?"

Corrupt speaks softly "I supose you wouldn't remember it... after you ate the first apple I came to be. I ate most of the other apples as well. But there was one golden apple that rolled away. Only to be picked up by Dream. Dream absorbed the apple himself before being turned to stone by the large aura of negativity I had been spreading." He waits amoment to let it sink in before he continues "I left soon after but a while ago Dream broke out of the stone himself. We have been. fighting ever since. That is now been a long time in our lifes. I didn't pick up my mates until a few years ago but Dream and I had been fighting for a long time already."

Nightmare stares at the bowl. Just quiet for a moment before he speaks "I... i don't understand..."

Corrupt sighs sadly "Me neither..."

Nightamre continues to stare for a while before slowly letting Corrupt help him eat a bit again.

The others make sure to have other conversations but Corrupt can't pay much attention to those. His full attention is on Nightmare as he just stares at his hands. Processing the information given.

In the end they decide to skip looking at the outfits and stuff gotten. Killer claims enough had happened for that day and that it would be better to get some rest and let it all sink in.

Corrupt made sure to thank his four mates and apologise for being so busy and distracted. All four reassured him that they understood and that Corrupt didn't need to worry.

Corrupt took Nightmare upstairs and helps him with brushing his teeth and helps him get ready for bed.

Corrupt takes Nightmare back to his room as he makes sure Nightmare is comfortable as he is tugged in "For now you will sleep in my room with me. Until we figure out which room to make yours and prepare that accordingly."

Nightmare just continues to watch him and Corrupt lays in bed himself.

Nightmare wiggles abit before sighing as he glares into the air "At least the long nap explains why i can't move anything..."

Corrupt chuckels and nods "It does explain it." a moment of silecne "I apologise. That you were stuck in me for so long..." maybe he could have speed up the helaing process? If he had known?

Nightmare looks at him "You saved me. I jsut... I don't get it... any of it."

Corrupt nods "I know. I thought I understood what had happened but I was wrong." Nightmare is alive after all.

Nightmare feels the blanket "Why did Dream attack me?"

Corrupt blinks as he looks at Nightmare.

Nightmare continues before Corrupt can answer "Why... When we split... why did he still attack me." he looks so sad "Did... does he believe... what the villagers said?"

Corrupt cant stop hismelf anymore. He hugs the smaller being close and rubs the smaller skull "I am sure that if he had known it was you he wouldn't have attacked you. He must have thought i was duplicating or something similar."

Nightmare frowns at him "But why? You... you protected me. Well tried to. The villagers were the once who hurt me. You got my magic. You came from the tree. Why does Dream hate you?"

Corrupt sighs and shakes his own head "Because Dream beleives I killed you. Dream believes that I cut down Nim... He believes I am at fault for everything." Corrupt understands why. It is always easier to blame someone else than to have to look back and admit you hurt someone you cared about.

Nightmare makes an unhappy sound as he wiggles to get closer. Corrupt pulls him closer and sighs happily. It feels good to have the younger skeleton close.

...

He is not going to mention this to his mates or the pregnancy jokes will return with a vengance.

Nightmare mutters softly "I am glad I am here."

Corrupt freezes and looks down "But... what about Dream?"

Nightmare shrinks closer "I miss Dream... a lot... But... Drema always liked them more than me anyway... and I didn't like them and they hated me... I just... I don't want to hurt anymore... you made the hurt disappear and you are like me with my magic..."

Nightmare glances at him and mutters "You understand... You accept me... I just... am I bad for not wanting to lose that?" and he stares at him.

Corrupt holds the other close and rolls up around him. Making a small coccoon to hold the tiny treasure of a monster nearby "You don't. You are a good monster Nightmare. You always were. Those who couldn't see were wrong. And I swear to you. On my very being. I will protect you. No one will harm you here. I won't allow it."

Nightmare relaxes and sighs happilly "Thank you."

Corrupt smiles as he nuzzles the tiny skull "It is my pleasure."

Soon after.

Nightmare falls sleep.

*--------------------------*

Next part.

[jjenthusee]

Late Night Talks Pt. 2

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: After posting the first part (linked here), I felt unsatisfied at the ending. Then after reading comments and reblogs, you guys felt the same. Great minds think alike! So I whipped out my phone, wrote out a couple lines and tried a couple edits that I thought would give these two a satisfying ending, but I realized that if I planned it, it didn’t feel right. So, I went off instinct and I hope this lives up to what you guys expect :D ( @nckcn your wish is my command hope you enjoy these two being clumsy again <3, @misadear i hope this qualifies as hurt/comfort <3, @janybabyy you wont have to buy a new pair of locks <3, and @heavysighing-dreamyeyes since you gave us a second part to your kitchen dances fic I had to do the same <3) as always comment if your comfortable, reblog, and ENJOY

Tags: Jason is clumsy, fluff worth vomiting over, anxious Jason, hurt/comfort ;D

Word Count: 2.6k

Your back hurt, your head ached.

The back of your eyes stung as you tried to open them, the sun’s rays engulfing the entire couch.

At some point in the night you must have crawled up from the intense crying session you had on the floor.

The puffiness surrounding your eyes weren’t going to be fun to get rid of. Nothing like cold spoons to start your morning.

Your mind swirled as you sat up, slowly moving yourself into a sitting position. Bracing your feet to touch the cold floor, but it was soft and fluffy.

You leaned forward, looking down to find a blanket had fallen, sprawled in various folds and flattened as your feet rested on it.

“Did I grab a blanket last night?” You asked yourself, standing up, wondering for a second in confusion.

Then you glanced at the window where the bright sun rays invaded the room. It was shut, but not locked.

Weird. You thought.

Your face suddenly contorting as the memories flooded in. One by one, hearing your voice from last night flood your head like your own mind wanted you to face the consequences.

You sighed into the air, finally bending down to remove the blanket from the floor. Neatly folding it and placing it where you once laid.

You slowly rubbed at the fabric, mindlessly repeating the movements as you thought to yourself.

“He came back.”

You had memories of him visiting your drinking session and Jason had left clues that he had came back from suddenly leaving. He didn’t have to, but the blanket, the clean coffee table, and unlocked window meant he had cleaned up. He got you to bed. Took care of you.

“Shit.” You breathed out. “He must have saw and heard everything.”

You groaned, rubbing your hands down your face.

You needed some cold spoons and some medicine.

——

You had to give it to yourself, despite the horrible drunk late night confession, you were glad it only started your weekend. You couldn’t imagine going to work the day after everything.

You could safely rot throughout your day, wasting the day away from your mistakes.

So after a good look in the fridge, you settled for leftovers and a half drunken apple juice. Interesting combo, but you just needed something to digest.

The rest of the day went by as uneventful as your morning.

Laying on the couch, aimlessly watching videos on your phone, reading random posts.

Recovery was awful, especially a mental one.

How were you going to talk to Jason? Would he ever come back? Would you have to fake a robbery scenario? No, that was a bit much.

As you aimlessly thought, yogurt and spoon in hand, the sound of a latch broke your focus.

Click.

Heavy boots hit the floor, scaring you as your head moved to the sounds.

You were wrapped in the same blanket from that morning, a small yogurt stain adoring it, but all the same.

“Jason?” You called out, stunned.

He was frantically walking to you, full Red Hood gear, red helmet on his head rather than a domino mask.

He had a hand full of paper bags in his hands. He stopped directly in front of you, looking down at you, a shadow casted on your body from his sheer mass.

“Jason—what? Why are you—“ You stammered, tilting your face in confusion.

“I don’t understand.” Jason exhaled.

“Wha—I mean, I don’t understa—“

“I don’t know how I got here. I don’t know why I have all these bags with me, but I couldn’t leave.” Jason shoved all the bags onto your lap at once.

You couldn’t do anything as the bags fell on one another, another falling to the floor, the contents spilling out. You watched because Jason blocked the coffee table to put down your yogurt and spoon.

“I don’t know. I bought you all this stuff, but I was only planning to get some toothpaste, but it bothered me so much. Last night, I had never heard you talk so much or seen you that gone. But I got worried then I walked to the medicine aisle, then I was walking by the snacks—“ Jason rambled, pacing in front of you, not really understanding how everything escalated when he came to you.

Jason couldn’t hear you repeat his name, so you let him finish. You looked at the contents on your lap. Aspirin, cheeseballs, an ice pack, water, and many more items that you couldn’t look at because you wordlessly held yogurt at the surprise intrusion.

“—then the guy at the cash register was looking at me funny, like ‘What? You don’t see vigilante’s shop at midnight?’ This is Gotham for crying out loud, but I was worried you wouldn’t take care of yourself, although I think it was my fault.”

“Jay, breathe.”

Jason took a quick breath, unconsciously obeying you.

“But that isn’t why I’m here. I couldn’t understand anything that night.” Jason stopped pacing and faced you directly.

After staring at each other for a second too long, you exhaled, motioning Jason to sit next to you with a spoon still in your hand. The couch dipping from his weight and the paper bags leaning toward him.

“I’ve repeated that conversation a million times in my head, but every time I got to the end, it bothered me so much.” Jason frustratingly told you.

You met, what you assumed to be Jason’s stare, from under the helmet, modulated breaths falling with his chest. You looked at your red reflection, watching the tiredness in your eyes. You looked awful.

“Why are you bothered, Jay?” You asked, finally putting the yogurt and spoon down since your visitor stopped pacing.

A lot was happening right now, but in some ways you were relieved that Jason came back. Frantic, but you could deal with that.

“I couldn’t reject you. It didn’t even cross my mind.” Jason admitted, helmet expressionless. You wondered if he could have said any of this without his helmet shielding his face, his expression.

“I told you, I would let you ruin me.” You answered. Watching his movements, trying to find any sign of what he truly wanted.

“But I don’t deserve it. As long as I have this scar marking my face, I won’t be worthy enough for you.”

“I disagree.” You soothed. You kept your voice calm, trying not to frighten Jason and his sudden vulnerability.

“Why?!” Jason nearly yelled in disbelief. “I don’t understand how you can love me when I haven’t done anything that deserves it!”

Jason was breathing rapidly, his modulator breaking in and out.

You carefully moved the blanket and the paper bags off you, moving yourself closer to Jason. You moved your hands up, making sure they were visible to him.

“I’m going to remove your helmet. Are you okay with that, Jason?” You waited, but no answer came out of the man in front of you. “I’m going to remove it because I want to see you and make sure you’re breathing okay, okay?”

He didn’t answer again.

You meticulously moved to his face, moving his helmet up, sections of Jason’s face becoming visible to you. Messy and matted hair covering his head and forehead.

You settled the helmet next to you.

His eyes shifting anxiously, his body looked like it was almost vibrating.

You stood up from the couch, slowly kneeling on the ground in front of Jason, carefully closing yourself in between his legs. Leaving enough space between the two of you, so you didn’t touch.

Now that you were in front of him, you locked onto his eyes. Making sure he was paying attention to you. You took deep breaths, guiding Jason to do the same. At first, he clumsily puffed, but once he balanced his rhythm with yours, his shoulders were evening as they lowered the more he calmed himself.

You didn’t want to break any boundaries because he was overwhelmed. You wanted to calm him, not heighten his current state.

With a steady breath, you laid your hands in your lap, keeping your eye contact with Jason.

“I don’t mind all the gifts, I’m happy you got them for me. I appreciate them because I know you thought of me when you bought them. The water, my favorite snack, and the medicine, but what I truly want right now is you.”

You kept your voice as normal as possible. Trying to show Jason that vulnerable conversations were okay, they were more than okay. They should be okay.

“You are already worthy enough of my love, Jason. More than worthy. I’m proud of you, that you tried to convey it to me too. I have things I need to work on as well.”

You smiled at Jason, gazing up at his head drooped down to you. You were glad he was okay with the closeness, the intimacy.

“I didn’t tell you my feelings the right way.” You continued, a chuckle bubbling in your throat. “I promised myself to do this sober, if I got the chance again, no wine in my system this time.”

Jason weakly smiled like the sound of your laugh calmed him. His hair drooping down to his forehead. He had leaned forward enough to rest his hands on his knees.

The more you talked to him, the closer he was getting to you. It could have been unconscious or he intended for it to happen, but he was drawn to you like a magnet.

“No, no, no.” Jason whispered as he shook his head from side to side. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m glad you think so, but I should have said it better and at a pace you were comfortable with.”

Jason didn’t respond. He was at a loss for words, not really understanding what direction he needed to address things.

So you guided him, letting him take his first steps into emotional vulnerability.

“I would like to know how you’re feeling. You can tell me things like if I’m overwhelming you, if I need to clarify anything, or anything you can think of. Because that’s the best part of all of this, we get to learn about each other. I get to understand who Jason is and you can learn as much as you want about me.”

Jason meekly reached his hand out to you. Slowly, carefully like he didn’t know if his body was capable of being gentle, but the fears left him once he touched your face. His fingers cupping your cheek.

Nervously watching your reaction, he was anticipating you to pull back, to react with disgust. But you sat there, staying the same way you did.

Then once he felt better, more at ease, he moved his hand further to you, his hand was large enough that some of his fingers touched behind your ear, rubbing at your hair line.

You closed your eyes, exhaling at the relief that he was okay, that he was initiating a new step in your relationship.

You focused on the small rubs from his thumb. Unconsciously leaning into it, Jason simultaneously sucking in a breath.

He was shocked that you let him do this. Numerous times was he close to grabbing your hand, wiping your tears when you cried, and touching your hair. He had restrained himself every time the thought distracted him, but now that he got a small taste of heaven, he didn’t know if he could ever live without it.

“That night…” Jason hesitated.

You opened your eyes, slowly blinking your eyelashes to look up at him.

He lost his breath again, seeing you sitting there, paying attention to him, anticipating what he was going to say.

“That—that night I did come back. It probably wasn’t a good idea after what happened, but I wanted to see you. You were sound asleep, your face drying from the tears and I helped clean up.”

You carefully listened, letting Jason talk as slowly or as much as he wanted.

“I carried you onto the couch and I covered you with a blanket. And I left, but I didn’t go far. I spent a while sitting on the roof of the building across.” Jason’s eyes softened as he spoke, reminiscing.

“I had to carefully think of everything you said. I was so scared that I almost left and never came back. But when I was ready to run, I couldn’t get the image of how hurt you were, crying into the couch.”

You placed your hand over Jason’s. Both warming your cheek.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of you going through that again. Without me.” Jason’s voice hardened, frustrated with his thoughts and contradictions. “But, you also don’t need me. You deserve better.”

“And you are my ‘better.’ You see a version of me that I hate, but you still treat me as I am. I feel safe with you, you lift me up in ways I don’t have the words to describe. I don’t deserve you, Jason.”

Jason moved down to the floor with you, joining you in a kneel, his knees on the sides of yours, demonstrating the sheer size difference.

He cupped your face in both of his hands, his face close to yours, a serious look in his eyes.

“No, you’re perfect. You’ve even accepted me.” He trembled again, not the same as his anxiousness from before. A gentle tremble that embodied all his emotions, his tenderness.

“Jason, you love so much. You love so much that you can’t handle all of it in your heart and I admire that about you. You care about so many people and things that you end up hurting a lot. I want to be there next to you, hurting along with you.” You inhaled, your lungs and throat stinging from your need to tell Jason all your feelings. “I want to live a life filled with your love. I love you, so so much that it hurts.”

Jason wiped your tears with his thumbs. He leaned in, brushing his lips near yours, his eyelashes nearly touching his cheeks as he looked at you.

“I love you too, I want to see you make mistakes, smile when I think of you. I can finally breathe when I’m next to you.”

You trembled at Jason’s words. The raw vulnerability he was giving you.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said. And you were wrong. I want to be next to you. You said it felt right and I believe it too. I know you told me not to tell you, that it would ruin you, but I want to ruin you.”

Jason breathed, the air touching your lips that left his.

“I’m selfish too because I want every part of your life.” Jason whispered onto your lips.

“And you can have it.” You whispered back.

Then Jason leaned in, taking all the breath from your lungs as he kissed you. Your head leaning back at the sweet weight of him.

It was perfect, the two of you kneeling toward one another, your face held in Jason’s hands, his body pulling you in.

As you lost your breathe, your legs wobbled from all the want radiating from the man in front of you.

You leaned away, panting, pausing from the possibility of consuming all of Jason’s love at once. A beautiful overwhelming feeling.

Jason held you, not wanting to part an inch further. He watched you take your breaths.

“You’re breathtaking.” He lulled, kissing your eyes, your nose, the corner of your mouth.

You giggled at the brief kisses. Holding onto his arms, feeling the muscle flex underneath.

After endless kisses, you slept well in the arms of the man you love, tangled in the cushions of the couch that witnessed the end of a relationship and the start of another.

[scorpiussage]

Tommy Shelby + Age Gap

Pairing: Tommy Shelby/ Reader

Warnings: smut

For @peakyltd

He’s known you since you were little; you were always running about with Ada and your home life was worse than theirs so you spent an inordinate amount of time living in their house.

When he left for the war, you were still a child — skipping classes and causing mischief with his sister. When he get’s back, though, it’s to his own surprise that you grew up in the time he was away. You’re still young, barely 19, but those years changed you in so many noticeable ways.

It’s the day after he got back and he stumbles down the stairs of his home to find you sitting at their kitchen table, probably waiting for Ada to come down. He pauses at the bottom of the steps, almost not recognizing you but when you turn to look at him, your appearance hits him like a punch in the gut. God, you’re beautiful.

“Ah, y/n,” he rumbles after clearing his throat, “It’s been a while.”

You nod, your own eyes tracking over his form curiously as you take in his more chiseled features that years in a trench carved out.

You get up and carefully pull him into an awkward hug, “I’m glad to see you’re okay.”

Tommy, feeling like a deviant, uses the hug as an opportunity to smell your hair. It gives him a strong sense of calm to take in your unique clean, sweet scent. He feels at peace for the first time in years.

He reluctantly pulls away from your arms and sets a firm hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze, “I’m fine. We’re all fine.”

Ada chooses that moment to come clomping down the stairs and Tommy quickly pulls away, turning tail and heading for the door without saying anything else.

…

After seeing you in the kitchen the other day, Tommy can’t seem to shake the thought of you. You absolutely consume his thoughts and even worse he sees you everywhere. The only place safe from your presence is his bedroom and only just, because he can hear you and Ada giggling away to each other through the thin walls. He feels like he’s going mad.

It all comes to a head one evening when you show up at dinner, presumably to spend time with Ada but she’s already left. Tommy tells you this and watches the way your cheeks flush prettily under his intense attention.

“Oh,” you say with a huff. Actually, now that he mentions it, you think you remember Ada saying she was going out with a boy and to not tell her brothers. You quickly try to wrack your brain for a decent excuse to give to Tommy while he slowly moves to where you’re standing.

“Silly me, she said we were going to meet at the dance hall,” You stutter as Tommy stands terribly close to you, the scent of his cologne making your thoughts fuzzy, “I should head out.”

Before you can turn fully, Tommy grasps your wrist in his big, calloused hand; his thumb reaching out to rub gently along your pulse point. That little touch is enough to make you weak in the knees. You’ve always fancied Thomas— he was the dashingly handsome older brother of your best friend. That was when you were a child, though, and you never really thought he’d ever see you as anything but.

“Tommy?” You question hesitantly, your eyes searching his. He doesn’t reply, instead his other hand reaches up to run along your cheek before he guides you forward into a sweet, testing-the-waters kiss. It’s a soft peck at first but you respond readily, your own lips chasing after his when he starts to pull away.

His arms slip to wrap around your waist and back, pulling you tightly into his chest as he ravishes your mouth. He tastes like tobacco and whiskey and you mewl whenever he nips playfully at your bottom lip. You feel like you could drown like this, in his tender mercies, and you wouldn’t care in the slightest. When he finally pulls away, you’re both gasping, your breaths mingling and your eyes hooded.

He reaches up and pushes your coat off your shoulders, and you barely register it pooling around your feet as he grasps your hand once more and begins tugging you towards the stairs. Feeling like you’re in a haze or a dream, you follow after him your eyes never leaving his. Every few steps he pushes you against the railing or the wall and kisses you until you’re practically shaking with a desire you’ve never known before.

He pulls you down the hallway and into his room, a sacred space you’ve never dared enter before, not even when he was away at war. It’s the largest bedroom in the house and scarcely decorated but there are a few personal touches here or there that paint an intimate picture of what kind of man Tommy is. Photographs are lined neatly up on his dresser with loving care and across the room you spot a small bookcase with worn books and a little tin horse figurine. He lets you inspect his space while he divests himself of his jacket and waistcoat, leaving him in a partially unbuttoned shirt and suspenders hanging loose around his hips.

His gaze is almost hungry as he makes his way to you; his gait like a lion stalking a rabbit. He’s quick as one, as when he reaches you and before you can say anything, he’s hefting you up into his arms and pushing you down onto the creaky bed. You manage to breathe out his name before he kisses you again, this time far more heatedly and desperate than when you kissed in the kitchen.

“‘Tell me to stop and I will,” he whispers into your ear as he pushes your dress up. Nothing could get you to stop now, you think, you would die to keep what’s happening going. You try to keep up with him, your shaking fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. He helps you along, practically ripping the shirt off of himself and the following undershirt. You’re likely staring in a most uncomfortable way but he’s so damn handsome. He’s all lean, corded muscle from his time in the war and is even decorated with a few tattoos that you trace curiously with the tips of your fingers.

As if he’s reading your mind, he smirks in that infuriating way of his and presses your hand more firmly to his chest, guiding it down to run over his abs and to the hem of his trousers. This is where you clam up. You tug your hand away and flush in what you’re sure is a terribly unattractive color and admit, “I’ve never done this before.”

It’s embarrassing to still be a virgin, you think, especially when compared to someone like Tommy who’s experience precedes him.

He kisses you again, this time not as hurried and tells you with such open honesty, “I’ll take care of you.”

His hands trace around to your back and he finds the ribbon holding your brazier with perfect accuracy. With a single, sharp tug, you’re breasts are barred to him.

He tries to be gentle as he runs his hands up along your sides, his fingers dancing out to graze over your breasts. You let out a soft gasp as he fully cups them both and rubs his thumbs over your peaked nipples. His gaze is reverent as he looks over you and he rumbles out a hushed, “God, you’re perfect.”

You have to fight the urge to cover your face in embarrassment, struggling to accept the compliment especially knowing how beautiful some of his past girlfriends have been.

“Don’t believe me, eh?” He asks, taking in your furrowed brow and red cheeks.

He leans down at begins placing nipping kisses along your collarbones, worshipful words leaving his mouth every so often, “Ever since I saw you that morning after I got back, you’re all I can see. All I can hear. You’ve ruined me, Y/N, absolutely ruined me.”

His kisses trail down to your breasts, his lips sucking in the first nipple he finds and laving at it like a starving man. When he pops off of it, he blows a teasing breath over the peaked nub and watches the way you squirm with rapt attention.

He slides his hands further south and carefully tugs your knickers down, leaving you fully bare before him. When you try to close your legs to hide yourself, he doesn’t let you, his firm hands holding your thighs apart with unerring strength.

“Don’t you ever hide from me, eh?” He orders you sternly, but his eyes never once leave the sight of your dripping core and he licks his lips as if he’s suddenly salivating. Without warning, he surges down and begins licking along your slit with avid enthusiasm, his tongue expertly drawing teasing swirls to your clit before dipping down to lick at your opening.

You let out a squeal and reach down to grasp at the longer hair on top of his head, unsure if you should push him away or tug him closer.

His chuckles vibrate through your core in the most confusingly pleasurable way and he looks up at you, “I want to be surrounded by you, by your smell and taste.”

With those seductive words said, he dives back down to continue licking you. He’s relentless in his exploration, his tongue leaving no place untouched.

Meanwhile, you’re sprawled out across his bed, your fingers yanking at his hair and your back arching lewdly. You’re building towards something you’re not sure of that has you feeling like a bow string pulled too taut. Tommy seems to know this and is apparently eager to encourage it.

One of his thick fingers trails up through the mess of your cunt and starts pressing into you. That’s what makes you come undone, and the most fantastical feeling washes over your entire body, making you cry out Tommy’s name in pleasure.

He works you through the experience, his ministrations gentling until you’ve gone lax in satisfaction. He sits up and looks down at you, his lips stretched in the first smile you’ve seen him give since he returned. Placing both hands on either side of your head, he hovers over you and tells you, “You’ll only get that from me, understand?”

You nod sleepily as all the adrenaline causes you to crash. You see that his trousers are tented and you ask, “Do you want me to-?”

He shakes his head. Standing up he shucks the pants off before crawling back into bed with you, drawing up the quilt to cover you both.

“I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you when I got back,” he says to you, his fingers tracing up and down your bare arm. He leans forward and gives you a sweet, slow kiss that has you tasting yourself briefly before he pulls away and turns the light out.

He holds you throughout the night and is the first thing you see when you wake up; those blue eyes of his peering into your very soul. You’re his.

…

For more bingo prompts click here!

[sasheneskywalker]

dc/marvel crossover fic recs

Dark Matter by mysterycyclone The last thing Peter sees is Tony's horrified, heartbroken expression leaning over him. The guilt in his eyes is almost worse than the burning pain that's taking Peter apart piece by piece. The world starts to go dark.

There's a flash of gold and green. For one moment, he finds himself standing amongst the Guardians and others. And then darkness again. It feels like blinking; an extended period of nothingness that ends as abruptly as it begins. One moment there’s nothing, the next there’s light.

“Easy,” a woman says. Her words are gentle, and carry a slight accent that he can’t place. "I'm called Wonder Woman. What's your name?"

Not Rated | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Clark Kent & Peter Parker, Diana (Wonder Woman) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Peter Parker, Gotham City & Peter Parker, Tim Drake & Peter Parker, Batman & Spiderman

Revenge is a Word I Haven't Yet Defined (I’m not sure I’m worthy of such theatrics) by OliOcelot After the Lazarus Pits and a year of training with the League, Talia sends Jason to Gotham for revenge. Except Jason isn’t as deep as she thinks. The thing is, he expected to see Bruce - Batman - and be livid. He let him die, replaced him. He should be mad.

He isn’t.

In the end, it’s hard to think of yourself as being replaced when you died. So yeah, he’s angry, but he’s not angry enough for revenge. Not like Talia wants him to be.

So he focuses on Red Hood and cleaning up Crime Alley, and scraps any ideas of revenge he had left. They’re unnecessary. Counterproductive, in fact, because now that he’s actually seen Bruce, all he really wants is to go home. Maybe have a conversation or two about how bad Bruce and Dick messed up, but at home.

Instead, he gets caught up in world altering magic from some criminal in over his head, and Jason finds himself tumbling through universes into a New York filled with heroes that he’s never even heard of and a lack of Gotham and Metropolis that can only mean one thing. This isn’t the world he knows.

All he wants is to get home, to make amends, to try again. Too bad none of them know he’s gone. Not that anyone would think to look for a dead boy.

T | Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Batfamily Members & Jason Todd, Peter Parker & Jason Todd, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark

To Dig a Grave in Winter by OliOcelot The Winter Soldier isn’t the only Asset that Hydra has. This will be their downfall.

Or, Jason Todd rose from his grave only to be taken by Hydra and turned into a living weapon, known as the Gravewalker. Meeting the Winter Soldier might just make it worth it.

T | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply | James Bucky Barnes (Marvel) & Jason Todd (DCU), James Bucky Barnes (Marvel)/Jason Todd (DCU)

in labyrinths of reflections by blackkat With the incursions imminent, Khonshu steals his avatar away to another dimension, where there's little risk of the universes colliding.

Marc is unprepared for Gotham, but it's probably safe to say that Gotham is equally unprepared for Marc.

M | Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Bruce Wayne/Marc Spector, Marc Spector & Jason Todd, Roy Harper/Jason Todd, Marc Spector & Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne/Steven Grant

no map to my own treasure by blackkat “I think this is yours.”

Bruce doesn’t even have to look up. He already knows precisely what this is about. Containing a sigh, he rubs the bridge of his nose, and says, “If he bit you, I can pay for the emergency room visit—”

“I did not bite him,” Damian says, outraged.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Marc Spector/Bruce Wayne

Knaves All Three by Ginevra_Benci After Ultron, Avengers Tower hosts a good-will gala to fundraise for post-Incident NYC.

Local lawyers Nelson & Murdock, fresh from saving Hell's Kitchen from the ravages of Wilson Fisk, get an invite.

And.

Bruce Wayne’s in town.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Tony Stark & Bruce Wayne, Tony Stark & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Bruce Wayne, Steve Rogers/Bruce Wayne, Matt Murdock & Foggy Nelson

The Spider and the Samovar by Ginevra_Benci There's a new player in Eastern Europe: the Spider has been making a name for himself and has caught the attention of the Outlaws.

Jason Todd makes contact.

Well. He tries to.

G | No Archive Warnings Apply | Roy Harper & Koriand'r & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Natasha Romanoff

Bats Out of Hell by Jedi_Olympian Dick and Tim find themselves in a bit of trouble. Multiversal trouble. Needless to say, their boyfriends are not happy about it, and the universe they find themselves in is unlike any they've found themselves in before.

Or Dick and Tim get thrown into the MCU and meet the Avengers.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne

If It's A Highway by there_must_be_a_lock Bucky’s been running for a week when the supposedly-untraceable burner phone he stole from a HYDRA warehouse starts ringing. He’s in a gas station bathroom off a remote highway close to the Croatian border, getting ready to bleach his hair; the ringtone bounces shrilly off the bare tiles and makes his jaw clench tight.

[Or: the one where Bucky is hired to train Jason, and he ends up learning a thing or two himself.]

E | No Archive Warnings Apply | James "Bucky" Barnes/Jason Todd

There but for Grace go I by AutumnHobbit Frank Castle comes to Gotham on the trail of some human traffickers who picked the wrong city. Imagine his surprise to find he isn’t the only one out for their blood. When things turn sour he decides to get involved, which leads to a lot of unexpected drama.

And he thought New York’s costumed paraders were bad.

Not Rated | Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Bruce Wayne & Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne & Frank Castle, Dick Grayson & Frank Castle, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Frank Castle

The Five Stages of Neighborly Affection by AlannaLioness, phonecallfromgod, youshallnotfinditso Between Matt being back from the dead, Nelson & Murdock 2.0 and a fancy Manhattan apartment from his (former) sharky boss, Foggy feels like he's doing pretty well keeping the vigilante nonsense in his life to a minimum.

Or he was until he moved next door to Tim Drake.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake (Minor), Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent (Minor), Minor or Background Relationship(s)

running in the shadows by dukeaubergine Jack Drake dies during one of Tony Stark's "taking responsibility" phases. The Bats aren't happy about this.

Tim is pushing to come home, and in the meantime be an NYC vigilante right under Stark's nose, when the Sokovia Accords knock over the whole board.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Batfamily Members & Tim Drake, Avengers Team & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Tony Stark, Tim Drake & Wanda Maximoff

Shake the Devil Out of Me by thepartyresponsible The first time Jason sees Phil Coulson, he sees him in the soft, flickering light of a warehouse fire. It’s romantic, he thinks, later. Like candlelight.

E | Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Phil Coulson/Jason Todd

The Dawn Will Break Before You by thepartyresponsible “Okay, heartbreaker,” he says, “how much to put the tires back on the car?”

Jason rolls his eyes and gestures at him with the lug wrench. “Why don’t I just beat you up and steal your money? Is this the first time you’ve been to a bad part of town? Don’t show me your wallet, asshole. Come on.”

The man heaves a heavy, aggrieved sigh and starts pulling out bills. “Five hundred?” He tries. “Six? We can go to an ATM.”

“You are mugging yourself,” Jason says, oddly impressed. “Holy shit.”

M | No Archive Warnings Apply | Tony Stark/Jason Todd

Give Thanks to Broken Bones by thepartyresponsible The bodyguard is incredibly well-respected in the superhero single parent community. He is also, Tony’s realizing, something of an asshole.

M | Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Tony Stark/Jason Todd

birds fly (why can't I?) by SafelyCapricious The apartment in Gotham that Natasha gets — all cash and no ID required — is a shithole.

But it’s her shithole.

Well, hers and the cockroaches’, she supposes, as she turns on the flickering light in the bathroom and at least a hundred of them scurry out of view.

M | No Archive Warnings Apply | Natasha Romanov (Marvel) & Jason Todd, Natasha Romanov (Marvel)/Jason Todd

Five Supersoldiers Walk Into a Bar by bittercape He spots him through the binoculars, far away and disappearing fast. Logan is, more than anything, a hunter. He knows how to watch, and he watches the sniper moving away, after a single well-placed shot. He moves just like Barnes did. Everyone has a particular way of moving, if you know how to watch. And Logan, as mentioned, knows how to watch.

Logan knows it cannot be him, knows he died, falling from a train. No normal human could survive that. And yet …

He drops down from the watchtower. He’ll catch hell for this, sure. But he has to know.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Logan (X-men) & James "Bucky" Barnes, Logan (X-Men) & Natasha Romanov, Logan (X-Men) & Slade Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Slade Wilson, Natasha Romanov (Marvel) & Slade Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Slade Wilson

five, six, just for kicks by bittercape “Good evening,” Jason says, because he does have manners when he wants to use them. “Talia al Ghul sent me for training.”

“Right,” the man says. “You’re here for training with Deathstroke.”

“Yeees,” Jason says. This seems more than a little eccentric. “And you are Deathstroke?”

“Yes indeed!” the man says. “It is I, Deathstroke!”

M | No Archive Warnings Apply | Jason Todd & Wade Wilson, Jason Todd & Slade Wilson, Jason Todd/Slade Wilson

In The Oddest Places by withthekeyisking After pulling Steve Rogers out of the water, there's not a lot that the Soldier knows. But going to ground? Yeah, he can do that.

If only there wasn't another super soldier trying to get in his way.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | James "Bucky" Barnes & Slade Wilson