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sleepingdiaryzzz · 5 months ago

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@errorunfound1

Yandere!neglectful!Batfam x mom!reader

Wayne Manor had always felt vast, but to you, it was more of a void than a home. It was easy to get lost in its endless hallways, in the constant hum of life orbiting Bruce’s nocturnal mission. You married him for love, despite knowing the weight of the life he led. You accepted his scars, his mission, his world. But what you hadn’t expected was how little space there would be left for you in it.

Bruce was always out, chasing shadows, leaving you to navigate a family that seemed determined to keep you at arm’s length. You poured your heart into them—Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian—but your efforts were met with indifference at best and disdain at worst. You had been a mother in every way that mattered, yet the coldness you received in return made your heart ache.

“You don’t have to act like you care,” Jason sneered once when you tried to patch him up after patrol. “We both know you’re just here for him.”

Tim barely acknowledged you unless it was necessary, his head buried in his work. Dick’s smiles, once genuine, now felt like politeness masking discomfort. And Damian, always the sharpest, had no qualms about cutting you down. “You’re not my mother,” he’d said, his words a dagger that twisted in your chest.

Bruce never intervened. When you tried to tell him, his responses were dismissive. “They’ll come around,” he’d say before disappearing into the night. But they never did.

So, you stayed quiet, swallowing the hurt, letting it fester.

One night, you stood in the empty dining room, staring at the cold, untouched dinner you’d prepared. The clock ticked on the wall, counting the hours Bruce was late. Again. You could hear the faint hum of voices from the Batcave below, the family gathered around him while you sat alone.

It wasn’t anger that bubbled up this time. It was resignation.

You left that night, not with a dramatic goodbye, but with a simple bag and a note left on the kitchen counter.

“I love you, but I can’t keep losing myself in a family that doesn’t want me.”

The days without you passed unnoticed at first. Bruce buried himself in his work, assuming you needed time to cool off. The Batkids carried on as usual, their lives too busy to miss the quiet presence you’d once provided.

It was Alfred who noticed first—the meals left uneaten, the flowers on the windowsill wilting. “Sir,” he said carefully one evening, “she’s not coming back.”

Bruce stopped mid-step, his expression flickering. “She just needs time.”

But days turned into weeks, and the absence became impossible to ignore. The manor felt colder, emptier. Jason snapped more often, his temper flaring at the slightest provocation. Tim’s focus wavered, his mistakes piling up in a way they never had before. Damian trained harder, his strikes sharper, but there was a new tension in him, an unease he wouldn’t voice.

“She left us,” Damian said one night, his tone sharp but brittle. “That’s on her.”

“No,” Dick said quietly, guilt heavy in his voice. “It’s on us.”

Bruce found you three weeks later, living in a modest apartment far from the grandeur of Wayne Manor. The door was locked, but that had never been an obstacle for him. He let himself in, his imposing frame filling the doorway as you stood frozen in the kitchen.

“Bruce,” you said, your voice tight.

“Come home.” His tone was soft but firm, the same voice he used to give orders in the field.

Your laugh was bitter, hollow. “Home? That place hasn’t felt like home in years.”

His jaw tightened, the only sign of his frustration. “You belong there. With me. With them.”

“I belonged there once,” you said, your voice breaking. “But I spent years trying to love a family that couldn’t love me back. Do you even realize how much it hurt, Bruce? To be invisible in my own home?”

He stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate. “I didn’t see it. I should have. But I’m here now.”

“Too late,” you whispered, tears spilling over.

But Bruce Wayne was not a man who gave up easily. His hand reached out, brushing against yours. “You think I’ll let you go that easily?” His voice dropped, a dangerous edge slipping into his tone. “You’re mine. You always have been.”

You pulled away, shaking your head. “You don’t love me, Bruce. You love control. You love having someone waiting for you. But I won’t be that person anymore.”

The silence between you was heavy, suffocating. His eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, you thought he might let you go. But Bruce was nothing if not persistent.

“You’re coming home,” he said, his voice soft but unyielding.

Before you could respond, his hand shot forward, pressing a syringe into your arm. The sharp sting was followed by a wave of dizziness, and your legs buckled.

“Bruce,” you gasped, your vision swimming as he caught you.

“It’s for your own good,” he murmured, his arms cradling you as darkness pulled you under.

(A/n: this is why I don't take money 😅 writing shi asf 😔🔥 chat did I cook or am I cooked?)

#yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere batfamily x reader #batfam x reader #yandere batman #yandere batman x reader #yandere dick grayson #😺– request

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solxamber · 2 months ago

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Could I request Diasomnia with a partner who's a smithy? Besides weapons, they can also craft tools, kitchenware, tableware, jewelry, armour, and anything else made of metal.

thank you for waiting this long <3

Diasomnia with a Blacksmith! Reader

Malleus Draconia – The Dragon Prince’s Personal Artisan

The first time he visits your forge, he’s utterly enchanted—not by the flames, but by you. Watching you work, hammering molten metal with such skill, is far more mesmerizing than any spellwork.

He commissions you to craft him a custom weapon, but it turns into a long-standing habit. Now, you’ve made him jewelry, ornate goblets, and a ridiculously expensive teapot set because he wanted to see how you’d do it.

Gets lowkey jealous of the things you make. “You spend so much time crafting weapons for others. Shouldn’t your finest work belong to me?”

Definitely flexes your work in his hoard. Will absolutely hoard you too if given the chance.

If you try to gift him something small and personal—like a pendant or a signet ring—he gets unreasonably soft about it. You just handed this ancient dragon prince a trinket, and now it’s his most prized possession.

Lilia Vanrouge – Chaos Gremlin Patron

"Ah, metalwork! I was quite the smith in my youth!" he says, as he spectacularly fails to make a dent in a copper sheet.

He is the most annoying client because he commissions the weirdest things. Once asked you to make him a sword with a detachable spoon. He used it to eat soup at a war camp.

Always hanging upside down in your forge, asking too many questions. “What does this do? Can I touch it? Oh? Why are you looking at me like that?”

You make him a personalized dagger with his name etched in glowing runes, thinking he’d use it in battle. He instead uses it to cut vegetables while cooking. (It’s the only reason the vegetables survive his cooking.)

But when it comes down to it, Lilia deeply respects your craft. If he ever gifts you anything, it’s always materials from far-off lands, rare ores, and enchanted metals that sing under your hammer.

Absolutely goes feral if anyone tries to disrespect your work. You won’t even know what happened. One moment, someone is criticizing your craftsmanship—next moment, they’re pale, shaking, and handing you money while Lilia smiles behind them.

Silver Vanrouge – The Knight Who Always Falls Asleep Near Your Forge

He respects your work immensely but has terrible luck visiting you. He always falls asleep while waiting.

You once found him passed out against your anvil. You almost clocked him with a hammer thinking he was a burglar.

But the best part? He sleeps like an absolute angel in the most inconvenient spots. On your workbench? Yup. Leaning against a suit of armor? Done. Balanced on a pile of metal ingots? How??

When he’s awake, though, he’s very earnest about learning. He wants to understand how to take care of his weapons, so he often asks you to teach him maintenance techniques.

You sharpen his sword once, and he treats it like you personally saved his life. He insists that your work makes him faster and sharper in battle.

If he ever sees you working late, he’ll gently put a cloak over you and tell you to rest. But if you refuse? Fine. He’ll sit next to you and fall asleep while pretending to keep you company.

Sebek Zigvolt – Loudest Supporter, Most Aggressive Customer

"HUH?! YOU FORGE METAL?! INCREDIBLE! ASTOUNDING! I SHALL ONLY COMMISSION FROM YOU!!!” (You are now his personal smith. You had no say in this.)

He demands the strongest, most unbreakable weapons. You make him a sword once, and he treats it like it's a divine relic.

Tries to act like he’s too dignified to be impressed, but the first time he sees you pull molten metal from the forge, his jaw drops.

You gift him a custom sword with his family crest, and he is red in the face. "W-WHAT?! THIS IS—HOW DID—FOR ME?!?!” You swear you saw sparkles around his head.

Complains about you “wasting time” making non-weaponry, but secretly loves everything you make. Once, you gave him a metal drinking flask for travel, and he now refuses to use anything else.

Will loudly threaten anyone who disrespects your craft, even if they didn’t say anything. Someone casually mentions a blacksmith in another town? Sebek immediately starts yelling: "THEY CANNOT POSSIBLY MATCH MY CRAFTSMAN!!!”

He also secretly admires your patience and dedication. Late at night, when you’re working under the dim glow of the forge, he just watches in quiet awe. Sometimes, he forgets to yell.

Masterlist

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neontiger · 3 months ago

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sunday morning

MDNI 18+

~ In which you decide to become jason's favorite alarm clock ~ jason todd x fem!reader ~

Nothing compares to the sleep you fall into after a long night with Jason – well, maybe you can think of a few things he’s capable of that can compare – but after so many years of waking up with the sun your body seems to do it naturally. There’s not much you can do when that soft light creeps through the thin curtains on the window by the bed, paints the two of you as you lay tangled together, tugs at your eyelids.

You bury your face in the pillow. Behind, Jason sleeps peacefully. Only a soft snore greets you when you glance at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

Lucky him, sleeping like a baby. But he deserves it.

You watch him. Bask in the view of him streaked by the morning sun, the steady rise and fall of his chest with every breath. Your eyes trace the shapes of him, the hardened muscles, the scars making a landscape to explore. Puckered bullet wounds, thin slices of knives, short stabs of daggers…the Y-shaped scar that divides him, a straight line down his abdomen you always end up following. A thousand stories to read on his skin.

You move to nuzzle his chest and lay your head on his heart. It beats in your ear. For a brief moment it makes you sad, because your thoughts run to that dark place he came from. You hadn’t been there back then. There was nothing you could have done, but that doesn’t make you feel much better.

He’s here now. He’s alive, blood pumping through his veins. And he makes it back to you every night – he promised he would, and he’s not broken that promise yet. You pray he never does.

A deep breath lifts you a little higher. Ah, and the smell of him – musk and the hint of gunpowder. You never thought that would become one of your favorite scents, and yet here you are, inhaling and taking him in with all your senses.

Wait, you’re forgetting taste. His taste…what does he taste like?

You pick your head up. Jason’s eyes are still closed, his lips slightly parted. There’s a cut on his upper lip that he got last week in a fight, still healing, and a new bump in his nose from a hard punch he got last night. That didn’t stop him from nearly folding you in half and driving his cock into you until you were stuffed full of him and you were both satisfied. You weren’t complaining; he deserved to be spoiled.

He won't wake easily. A challenge. You test the waters with a kiss to his bicep, watching his face for the slightest twitch, but there’s none except the standards.

Another kiss, this one to a scar on his chest, a little wetter. You purse your lips and suck gently. Not enough to leave a mark, not yet. Another, closer to his nipple, a spot so sensitive that when he’s awake it sends a shiver down his spine. You close your lips on the bud and flick your tongue.

That elicits a response; the faintest twitch of his eyebrows, a wrinkle in his nose. His next breath is a little heavier than the others, but he doesn’t wake. You’ll have to work harder.

No more gentle kisses. You press your lips to the skin of his abdomen and nip, like some teething puppy. A trail of little pink marks follows you as you make your way to the patch of hair that runs from his belly button under the blanket. Jason shifts again, this time moving his legs apart, as if to make room for you. You stop and watch again. He might be awake.

Whatever. Breakfast is waiting for you just underneath the covers, a thick swelling lifting the blanket between his strong thighs. You continue your kisses downward but don’t move the blanket. Instead you kiss his legs through the fabric, feel the muscle tighten and shift. He turns his head and sighs.

You inch closer to his swollen member still swathed under your flowery pink blanket but you don’t dare bring your lips to it. Every few kisses placed on his covered legs or exposed skin causes a twitch. Sometimes a sigh escapes his mouth, a half-moan. He turns his hips and tries to chase your lips in what he thinks is a nonchalant, casual way, but you know better.

The teasing is fine, you think, but between your legs you’re growing sticky with arousal, and for your sake you decide it’s time to give him what he wants. You kiss the tip of his covered cock lightly.

Jason curls his fingers into the bedsheet, biting his lower lip.

You inch the blanket down, dragging it slowly over his engorged member, until it pops free at full attention. For a moment you marvel at his cock – so thick your index and thumb didn’t meet when you wrapped them around, lined with throbbing veins that ran from a base of curly black hair to the darker, leaking tip. Maybe you’d tortured him a bit too long, you thought, as a bead of precum rolled down the underside.

But that thought doesn’t make you go any quicker. He likes it, you know, letting go of control and putting up with you. You drag just the top of your tongue along the underside of his cock, tasting his precum – salty, strong – and flick off the head of cock.

It’s faint, but unmistakable. A grunt, a fuck through gritted teeth.

“I know you’re awake.” You wrap your lips around the tip of his cock and give a single suck before popping off again. “How long are you going to pretend?”

Jason places his arms behind his head, propping up enough to smile down at you. “I didn't want to disturb your fun. But don't stop now, baby. I promise I'll stay still, and you can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever you want, right?” Starting at the base, you plant wet kisses along the length of his cock, first up and then down again. He wets his lips, entranced with watching you.

He sits up to reach a hand down and squeezes your shoulder. “Come here,” he says. “Sit on my face.”

You laugh at the brazen, sort of awkward way he says it – but you obey, moving to straddle his head, still facing his cock with the intention of taking care of him while he does the same for you. He squeezes your ass in his calloused hands as he brings you down further.

It starts with a tease; his tongue light on the outer lips of your already dripping cunt, maybe revenge for what you put him through, making him wait. “Jason,” you whimper, squirming in his grip.

He likes that, the helpless moan that drips from your lips, but he also is incapable of teasing you. It's as much torture for him as it is for you. He flattens his tongue against your clit and drags it up to bury inside you. A tremble runs through your body, causing your hand around his cock to tense and tighten. You pretend it was intentional by quickly rerouting the move into a pump up his shaft and wrapping your lips around him again.

His cock throbs in your mouth, urging you to take him further, and a steady rhythm of pump, suck, up, down, is all you can manage as he buries against your cunt, eating like a man starved.

Shocks of pleasure roll through your body and release as muffled moans as you remain wrapped around his cock. His hips buck upwards on their own at the hummed vibrations, desperate to be buried further inside your warm mouth. You can't resist the urge to do the same, grind your heat against his mouth, making desperate circles on his tongue.

You break away from his cock and collapse with a cry as he gives a sharp suck to your clit. Can't concentrate on what you need to do when he's like that, when he's doing so good. You press your lips against his throbbing length and whimper.

Then nothing. No peak. Nothing but a wet burning crying out between your thighs and in your stomach.

You whine. “Jayy…”

“You stopped, so I thought we were done.” The heat of his breath so he chuckles brushes against your clit, making you shiver.

You weigh the options: sit down fully on his face and suffocate him – he'd like that, probably his favorite way to go – or take your seat elsewhere.

You move off of him. Jason makes as if to sit up, but you quickly straddle his lap and flatten your hands on his chest to hold him in place. He grins, hands gripping your hips, as if guiding you into place. You hold him steady and sink down, purposefully slow, teasing as you take him inside your welcoming heat a centimeter at a time. His brow furrows, a sharp inhale sucked through teeth, hands tightening and fingers curling into your soft flesh.

Full, heart racing, you exhale as you fully seat yourself on him. Jason smiles up at you, pupils blown out with lust. He reaches a hand to cup your cheek and guide your lips down to his.

The two of you stay like that, tongues slipping over each other and exploring, his cock nestled inside your walls, warm and exciting. His fingers rub your back while yours play in his hair. As perfect as the moment is, the sun streaking through the window and over your intertwined bodies, you can't stay this way forever. There's a pressing matter between the two of you crying for release.

Slow. You lift halfway and sink down, the head of his cock pressing that spot inside – you jolt and tighten around him, the feeling still new and fresh. Your fingers curl against his muscled chest, nails dragging over the sensitive skin. He squeezes your hips and bucks up softly to meet your next sink down.

You lean forward, grip the pillow around his head. His hands smooth over your warm skin to grab your ass and guide your movements. Blue eyes meet yours and lock in place, soft and inviting – contrast to feeling deep inside as pleasure swells and burns, his fingers squeezing and urging, his thrusts picking up speed and depth.

Forget trying to keep up; you give him control, letting your head fall to the pillow. He kisses your ear. “Tired already?” He says, voice raspy, thick with lust. “It's okay, baby. Let me take care of you.”

Consent takes the form of a whine from your lips, and he grabs you tight to flip the two of you over on the bed. Your head lands on the pillow. Jason reaches next to you for the unused set of pillows.

“Lift your hips,” he says, and you obey, lifting your butt off the bed despite still being wrapped around his cock. He stuffs the pillows under you to prop you into that perfect angle – perfect for him to drive into you and make you crazy.

Jason presses his lips to your ankle before placing both on his shoulders. You gasp as he thrusts – just once, a taste, just for him to see your face contort with pleasure.

“Want me, baby?” Another slow thrust, a full out, a steady press back inside until he's completely buried once more.

Your hair clings to your forehead and flushed cheeks. Focusing on him through lidded eyes, his hands caressing your thighs, you nod, urge him forward with a wiggle that shifts you on his cock.

“No, baby.” Jason leans forward, folding you nearly in half, so he can grip your chin. His thumb brushes your bottom lip. “Use your words.”

The look, the touch, the position – everything a reminder that you're so weak underneath him, that despite who you might be elsewhere here you are one thing – his.

“Want you,” you say. “Please, Jay.”

He smiles. “Good girl.”

Slow, arduous, dragging – each thrust of his hips pressing the head of his cock against your cervix, causing your walls to flutter and tighten around him as the pressure builds. His eyes never leave your face, but you can’t maintain eye contact, the feeling too great – your eyes roll back, eyelids fluttering, as his pace quickens, bringing you closer to the peak.

“That’s it.” He sounds out of breath. “My good girl…come for me, baby…”

Faster. You clench around him, nails dug into his knees, the only piece of him you can reach in an attempt to ground yourself. Your head swims, body tightening and tensing, as control breaks.

Your release crashes around him. He breaks from watching your face as you come undone to look down at where you connect – to watch as you swallow him, pussy swollen with hot excitement and from him, his cock slick with your juices. Each panted thrust, each grunt, each swallow and choke tell you he’s close.

“Inside,” you manage to squeak out.

Jason glances up. You force the word out again – “Inside, Jay” – and that’s all he needs.

It’s a struggle to keep his eyes open, to lock them on yours again, as his release crashes through his body, causing his hips to stutter. Deep-rooted instinct and need bury him as deep as he can inside you as he lets go, filling you.

He’s quick, grabbing your lower back to lift your limp body to get rid of the pillow, before laying his body on yours. Sticky and sweaty and burning under the sun. He remains inside you, throbbing with the last shocks of his orgasm, as his lips press yours.

“Good morning.” Jason’s mouth curves into a smile against yours. Another kiss, slow and lazy. He chuckles. “Good morning.”

You wrap your legs around him to keep him in place a little longer, exhilarated at the feeling of just…him. “You like that, did you?” No more begging good girl, back to pinching his cheek and giving back the same attitude he hands out freely.

“It’s a good way to wake up. I wouldn’t mind if…maybe you could be my alarm clock.” Jason runs his hand up your side to cup your breast. He tweaks your nipple between his thumb and index, and you jolt, clenching around his cock again.

“You’d…” You swallow. Fuck. “You’d have to stay over more often.”

The words sound dumb. Jason Todd wouldn’t. No, there was too much at stake. He wouldn’t risk putting you in danger.

But he swallows. His hand leaves your breast to cup your cheek. His eyes search yours – maybe he thinks you’re being shallow, you just want him for sex – but then they stop.

“Considering it,” he says softly. He kisses your forehead.

Your heart skips.

“What do you want for breakfast?” He asks. The answer is obvious.

#jason todd #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood smut #red hood x fem!reader #jason baby ily

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lulunothulu · 8 months ago

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“Migraine Induced”

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: You have a migraine and Jake’s the one who caused and clocked it.

Content: good ole Hangman charm, migraines, FLUFF

Your call-sign: Sparrow (yes I know it’s been used before but not the same universe lol)

“Sparrow!”

You wince at Hangman’s loud and obnoxious voice. You’d had a migraine for the past few hours and his loud, southern drawl wasn’t helping.

“Sparrow!” He calls again. You pinch the bridge of your nose before turning around.

“What?” You ask harshly.

“You joinin’ us tonight?” He asks, winking at you.

As much as you’d like to react to him winking at you (and god did you want to) you furrow your brows, placing pressure on your right eye before shaking your head. “I’m sorry, where?”

“Hard Deck,” Rooster says, walking toward the two of you. “We asked you about it yesterday?”

Oh fuck.

“Yeah,” you start, “I think imma have to sit this one out.”

“C’Mon,” Phoenix joins in, playfully elbowing you. “Don’t leave me here with all these boys.”

“We’re men,” Coyote corrects.

“Whatever,” Phoenix laughs. She turns to you, expectantly waiting for your response.

“Um,” you start, squeezing your eyes shut to then open them again. “Sure.”

———

Later after work, you and Phoenix are playing pool and about a beer or two into drinking. You thought it would help but of course…it didn’t. Your migraine still hadn’t passed and you were starting to squint, trying to keep the light out. So you asked Bob to get you a water, thinking that would help.

Of course the one day you need an ibuprofen, you leave it at home.

“You okay?” Bob asks from the stool he frequents.

“Never better Bobby boy.” You flash him a tight smile before groaning when Hangman approaches you and Phoenix.

“Ladies,” he says loudly. If the music in the bar was loud, Hangman made sure to be louder. “What’re we drinking?”

“I’m having beer, Sparrow’s drinking water,” Phoenix tells him.

Hangman turns his gaze to you, green eyes full of something you hadn’t seen before. Was that worry? And why did that do something to you?

“Is that so?” He asks, flashing you his famous cocky smile and shedding whatever possessed him before.

“Yeah, I’m not really in the mood to drink,” you tell him.

“Let’s change that.” Before you can begin to resist, Hangman turned to the rest of the Dagger Squad before yelling, “Let’s play a little game called ‘List Five Things’.”

Around you, Rooster, Hangman, Phoenix, and Coyote gather around in a circle. Bob, Payback, and Fanboy decided to sit this game out and are acting as the judges.

You knew the game well—list five things for whatever someone chooses. The twist to it is you have to remember what the person before you said that way, you can not only repeat what they had said—but also add on. If you end up forgetting, you have to take a shot.

“Coyote,” Hangman calls. “Start us off.”

“List five things a woman would say to you on a first date,” Coyote smiles.

“You’re handsome,” Hangman smirks across from you, winking in your direction.

“You’re handsome, you look nice,” Rooster adds.

“You’re handsome, you look nice, you have a pretty smile,” Phoenix adds.

“You’re handsome, you look nice, you have a pretty smile, yoi have something in your teeth,” you add, a fake smile directed toward Hangman.

“You’re handsome, you look nice, you have a pretty smile, you have something in your teeth, and your dance moves are killer,” Coyote ends it.

This goes on for a while, only you and Jake drinking five shots compared to everyone else’s seven to eight. You were all pretty plastered and you knew your migraine would be ten times worse tomorrow.

“Sparrow, my dear,” Hangman smiles, taking a swig of his beer. “You’re up.”

“Name five things you can say in bed,” you randomly blurt.

“That’s tight,” Coyote laughs.

“Thats tight, where are my clothes?” Hangman smiles.

“That’s tight, where’s my clothes?, can I taste?” Rooster adds, wiggling his brows at Coyote making him howl in a laugh while simultaneously making you flinch at the loudness.

Across from you, Hangman’s brows furrow.

“That’s tight, where’s my clothes?, can I taste?…”Phoenix thinks before shouting very loudly in your ear, “GOT PROTECTION?!”

“Fuck!” You yell, grabbing your right eye and shutting both in pain.

“You lose, Y/N!” Everyone yells.

Well, everyone but Hangman.

No, he’s watching you with the same worried expression on his face. But instead of hiding it like he did before, he makes a point to walk up to you and tilt you head back for you look up at him.

“Let’s go outside,” he tells you.

“I’m fine,” you start.

“Now.”

You obey, hearing the others whoop and whistle behind you. You allow him to walk you out to the beach before sitting you down in the warm sand.

“What’s going on? You’ve been a lot more irritable today and that says a lot because normally loud noises wouldn’t bother you.” He’s squatting before you, practically begging you to rip his vocal cords out by how loud he’s talking.

“Just for once, can you please talk quieter?” You scold. “It’s bad enough you’re already loud, just…dial it down.”

He silently watches you, at least you assume because you’ve already closed your eyes again. Even though you’re fairly far away from the bar, you can still feel the pulsing in your eye every time someone inside yells.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs. “Sometimes I get over-excited and can’t help myself.”

To say you’re surprised is an understatement. Hangman had never apologized to you or anyone for anything. Not even when he almost got into a fight with Rooster that one time. Or that other time he ran into you as you ran during PT.

You squint to look at him. He’s breathtaking. The moonlight lights his handsome face and makes his green eyes look almost aquamarine. His golden skin practically glows, his hair along with it.

You were caught off guard by those thoughts. Why are feelings suddenly manifesting for him? And why do you like how it feels deep in your stomach?

“Are you seriously apologizing?” You ask.

“Don’t get used to it, sweetheart.” He smiles down at you before grunting and joining you in the sand.

You sit in comfortable silence, taking in the crashing of the waves ahead and the beautiful night sky.

“I have a migraine,” you finally tell him. Looking up at the barely starred sky. “I’ve had one since,” you look at your watch and it reads 2:35 AM. “4:15 PM yesterday.”

“That’s why you didn’t want to drink,” he states. “You didn’t want to have to nurse that and a hangover.”

“Yup,” you say, lips popping on the ‘p’.

“I’m gonna make it up to you,” he tells you.

You snort. “How?”

“Let’s go for a dip,” he smiles.

“Now how the hell is that gonna help?” You frown. “I’m not skinny dipping with you.”

“As much as I know you’d love that, no. The water’s cool.”

“Okay?” You reply, still frowning and ignoring the comment.

“The cool water to your feet will help minimize the pain in that thick ass head of yours,” he says, standing and offering you his hands.

“I do not have a thick head,” you mutter, taking his rough hands. “That’s all you, Bagman.”

“I’m just here helping you out of the goodness of my heart and you want to insult me?”

He doesn’t let go of your hand after you both remove your shoes.

In fact, he holds it even when you both start splashing in the water and again when you decide to walk down the beach, shoes in his other hand.

He stops you in your tracks when you both return to Hard Deck. You’re standing on the back deck of the bar and looking in on your colleagues and friends laughing up a storm.

“What?” You ask, a small smile creeping on your lips.

“Did the water help?” He asks, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.

You smile up at him, you never realized how much taller he was than you. Maybe a head taller? And god, he smelled so good.

“Yes, it helped a lot actually,” you tell him. “Thank you, Jake.”

“I like how your voice sounds with my name on your lips ,” he flirts.

“Are you flirting with me Seresin?” You grin.

“God, even my last band sounds good,” he rolls his eyes in pleasure.

You laugh, going on your tiptoes and kissing his cheek. “Fuck off, Bagman.”

You make to turn away but he catches your wrist and spins you around so fast, you feel like falling. Only, he catches you before planting his lips on yours.

It’s like a scene from a cheesy rom-com you and Phoenix watch. You used to think it was funny but now actually living it? You loved it.

Jake pulls away, panting before giving you the biggest smile. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

“Have you?” You ask.

He nods. Then, pulling you up and in his arms, he asks, “So did this help ease the migraine aftermath?”

You smile, reaching up to pull him in for another kiss.

“Definitely. But I think a date would settle it once and for all.”

Before he even has time to answer, you’re pushing him away softly and swaying your hips to walk into the bar.

“Fuck, I think I’m in love,” he mutters to himself.

I kinda wanna write a part two…. Their date maybe and her realizing she really likes him? Let me know 💗💗

#glen powell #fanfic #jake hangman fic #glen powell x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x rooster #bradley rooster bradshaw

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cozwalt · 2 years ago

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I cannot justify the amount of money that larp companies charge for foam weapons as a cosplayer ;•;

If you don’t own the equipment to make foam weapons then it’s a fair price but for me it aaaiiiin’t

#I was looking at epic armory’s dagger selection and like. unless you get a very very basic one #if you want one that’s interesting visually you’re looking at 50-70 #Walt talks #for something similar I could make it for 40 and everything would be 100% custom #small roll of 6mm foam . small wooden dowel. plastidip & contact cement (I already own) and a vial of airbrush paint #depending on how many colors of paint you want and what you want the handle made out of #but it’d be custom and I’d save money #and I understand why they charge that. the difference is I don’t have to pay for my own time on the clock making it #and foam weapons are funky to make

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merelylillies · 3 months ago

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⋆ ﾟ.☁︎｡⋅ ───────────────｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

Note: ‘‘Starting to get the hang of it...might still be bad. Brace yourself I guess? Also not proofread so fingers crossed.,,

・・・・・⟢

Fandom: Hoyoverse's Genshin Impact

Pairing: (Fem.)Reader x Xiao || Alatus >>Mentioned: Malipo Kinich

Content Warnings: (NSFW) Kissing, Needy/Desperate vibes, Jealousy, Praise, Handjob (giving).

✦・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・✦

The one time you left Paimon behind you felt surprisingly deprived of her usual chatter as you made your way up onto the cobblestone path. Though you supposed it was all well and good, she was with Xiangling, not only safe but with the company of endless food. Surely she won't complain by the time you pick her up tomorrow. Although as of right now, the atmosphere felt empty, the only noise being your heeled boots clacking onto the wooden platform of the open-air elevator. It had been a while since you last visited Wangshu Inn.

With everything that had happened between Fontaine and Natlan, it's fair to say a moment's rest has been few and far between. With the latter, upon meeting some of the tribes' people had you then suddenly grown homesick. The Malipo name bearer having played tricks on your eyes one too many times from behind. His tousled, dark blue strands with sharp cuts flooded nostalgia through your blood countless times, before you were inevitably met with green irises instead of the gold you so cherished. Lost in thought you'd barely registered the platform had reached the terrace with a clunk. Looking around, most of the guests had early turned in for the night, the moon hanging high in the sky and the air perfectly still if not for a small breeze. Walking off the elevator and rounding the entrance to the front desk, Verr Goldet was busying herself petting the inn's cat perched on the counter. She turned at the sound of footsteps with a clear look of surprise that melted into a welcoming smile.

"Welcome back Traveler," she spoke softly. Nodding in greeting you glanced around, eyes landing on the staircase leading to the upper terrace. Upon catching this Verr smiled almost knowingly.

“He's been waiting a long time you know?" she said cryptically.

“Oh." was all you managed to get out.

"Take this on my behalf will you?" she asks with an amused look before handing you a delicate plate with a decorated portion of Almond Tofu.

“Xiangling sent in a letter earlier when you departed from the harbor. I had Yanxiao make it before clocking out.".

“Thank you." you responded almost dumbfounded before taking the plate from her hands.

She nodded before turning back around to scribble away in her log book, leaving you to stare down at the dish before ultimately turning to make your way up the final flight of stairs. As you made it to the top of the stairs, building up your courage to call his name you stopped just short of the archway. To your surprise, the man was already there. Sitting balanced on the railing of the terrace, with one leg bent into his chest, the other dangling down towards the void. The Adeptus' back was to you, allowing you to gaze over the back of his hair, your brain almost warning you it's just another hopeful illusion. As your silence goes on, he turns his head in your direction, glowing yellow peering into you like daggers. Everything stilled for a little while, the two of you just staring at one another without making a move. Gods you had missed him.

“Hi Xiao." you offered, breaking the silence. He continues to look at you, then suddenly shifts, disappearing into thin air before reappearing a couple of steps away from you, standing stiffly. Swallowing your doubt, you walk closer holding the Tofu out to him.

“Yanxiao made this for you-" you suddenly stop at his expression, as he stares at you with a perplexed look, confusion mixed with upset and then switching to weariness.

“Xiao, what's wrong?" you ask concerned, eyes checking over his figure before feeling gloved fingers slide on top of yours holding up the plate.

Looking up at him, his eyes seemed to roam across your face frantically, and then finally settle on your eyes, gazing into them intensely. His other hand comes to your shoulder, gently holding you, before tightening his grip firmly once he knew for a fact you were actually standing before him. He seemed to be physically relieved at your presence. You were actually here. In front of him. Without another second wasted he pulled you into him, plate long forgotten on the floor. The embrace was rigid, but he pulled you in so tightly as if he were scared to even consider letting go.

A few beats pass by before he shifts his arms, his hands that were clutching at your back now trailing down near your waist. He continues to hold you there, pressed up against him, his head hovering above your shoulder, dark strands tickling your ear.

“Where have you been.” It sounded more like a statement than a question, an accusation almost.

Hesitating with your response you swallowed a bit nervous. “I was traveling to the other nations- I’ve been to Fontaine and Nat-”.

“You took so long.” He breathed out, almost a whisper.

“You worried me.” He started. “I started thinking you might’ve been stubborn again and refused to call upon me.” His voice turned stern again, despite the softness of his low volume.

“Xiao..”.

“Traveler..May I be selfish?”, He pulls back enough to look at you, his forehead grazing your own.

Nodding slowly at him, your eyes lock onto his, seeing the underlying passion and yearning and admiration that he hid deep within himself.

Before you could say anything else he closed the distance between you.

The kiss was soft at first but as you kissed him back, reciprocating his movements with practiced ease, he started leaning back, shrinking into himself more. This was experience he continued to lack even with the many times you’d shared kisses. Kissing and any physical intimacy was a foreign concept to him, so he couldn’t help the small noises that escape him as you didn’t let up on his lips.

It was almost embarrassing how worked up he started getting, the harsh persona faltering the more you pressed forward and the longer the kiss continued. He felt breathless. For all his training he suddenly couldn’t calm his racing heart and his shortness of air.

You let up for a few seconds, letting him fill his lungs before diving back in immediately after his first gasp.

“Aah-mm” The hum leaves him involuntarily. Xiao had never wanted to be the vocal type, but novelty to these sensations made it hard for him to surprise himself.

Could you just- Archons above. Give him a second- Suddenly, despite his rare initiation, he feels out of his depth.

Adepti are trained to have endless patience and composure. So dear Seven, what the FUCK. He was feeling things he shouldn’t, thoughts crossing his mind he would berate himself later for. But as you kept moving forward, hands mimicking his own, wrapping onto his own waist, all trace of thought was gone from his mind.

You felt yourself turn light as a feather for a moment before realizing you had changed settings. He had teleported you inside. Now in a beautifully decorated chamber, the furniture adorned with untouched, long-settled dust. This must be the room Verr keeps for him.

As your turned your focus back to Xiao the boy looked beyond unrecognizable. The usual scowl on his face replaced with an unreadable expression. His pale skin blushed over with red. The tips of his hair standing up a little wilder than normal. But most of all, his eyes. Oh his eyes.. They held you with their stare, glossed by the warm, dim light of a bedside lantern.

Xiao’s brain seemed to spontaneously re-wire itself as he shifted his footing. Walking over to him, you started kissing him again, firmly and with so much emotion from you missing him, leaving behind the slow gentle pecks from earlier.

He fell into your rhythm, not once fighting to control the kiss. Walking him backwards until the back of his knees hit the mattress, making him fall down with you straddling him. Almost grinning against his lips you opened your eyes to look at him. His unfocused, widened gaze and his half open mouth, lips turned more vibrant with friction.

As you settled above him your hand moving up to his waist before your hand grazes over the front of his pants, a hitch of his breath escaping in response. Surprised at the sound, your eyes trail down to his trousers only to be met with a more prominent bulge.

Oh. Oh.. oh.

He couldn’t meet your gaze, his forearm moving atop his face shielding his eyes.

“You missed me that much?”

“It’s an uncontrollable aspect of the male human body. Something you should well be aware of. Your own kind’s shortcomings.” He replies with a hoarse voice, trying to keep his tone steady and even.

“Oh I wouldn’t say shortcomings..” You reply smugly before shifting your palm down onto him.

“A-ah-” He cuts himself off with a hiss of a breath.

As your hand continues grinding onto him his breaths pick up again, chest stuttering with his small gasps. Brows visibly furrowing, as the arm shielding his face twitches in place with small trembles.

“You- m-mm-” He attempts.

“I what?” You tease back.

And he’s really trying. Rex Lapis knows he’s trying to hold it in. Not seem so..so.. needy. And he doesn’t want to beg. That’s pathetic and unbecoming of an illuminated beast, an immortal, weapon of war..

“You look so pretty Xiao”, You whisper, caressing his soft hair, fingers trailing down his jawline, “I missed you so.”

Curse Celestial-

“Please.”

You don’t even get to respond to his sudden plea before others pour in.

“Please. I-I desire your- hahatouch. Ah. You. Please.” His arm strongly planted over his eyes.

Smiling down at his shaky form, you dip your hands past his waistband and loosen the sash holding his pants. The fabric dips down his slim hips, his usually cold skin, burning to the touch.

Finally wrapping a hand around him he gasps louder, this time a high pitched moan fully tumbling out of his lips.

“Ha- Aa-ah fuck -mmmmh”

You give him a tentative slow stroke up before reaching the tip, thumbing at it while watching his reaction. His first bawling against his own palm, the less human features of his hands peaking out from their usual concealment. Nails sharpening and veins becoming more visible, running down his arm.

“Yes-ah just like that— AAah-” His fingers twitch as you repeat the motion, dragging your thumb slowly against the slit.

As you speed up your motions his back begins arching slightly, lifting off the mattress as his pitch heightens with breathlessness and an almost whiny undertone. Your hand tightening around him and squeezing him just how he needed and god it feels good.

And he’s basically never done this before, and so he’s already getting embarrassingly close. His heart feels like it’s in his throat with the way he feels unable to utter out anything more than pleasurable moans. Your hand picks up the pace, and he bites his lip, sharp canines almost piercing his already kissed raw, red lips. His arm barely staying still from the stimulation, shudders running their course throughout his body. Finally falling to the side, his arm yanks at the bedding, his eyes scrunched up in pleasure as his eyebrows knit together. His entire face is blushed heavily, not to mention the almost visible pants of hot air escaping his mouth with little to no restraint from him.

“I’m- I..”

“Hm? Does it feel nice Xiao?” You boldly inquired boldly.

“Is this what you desired? What you fantasized while waiting for me? Imagining me so desperately?”

He was so sensitive and he has been wanting you all this time- having to wait so long and he was pent up and you knew that- and-

“Fuck- ah-Aa-hah..Please I’m almost.. Ah-” His voice breaks on his last plea, feeling too out of it to care.

Without much else he comes undone into your hand, letting out a small mewl that resembles a whimper.

You move to hover over him closer to his face and he opens his eyes to look up at you dazed but with determination in his eyes.

“Ah-a-Again….” He huffs.

“Hah-h please.”

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