#from when they would send me junk

[artificialalienn]

I found my stalkers full name 🕺 5 likes and ill drop their ip

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 10 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After just two days back home, Bradley takes you on a second date. He wants more, and you don't seem to mind when he can't keep his hands and lips to himself.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley being boyfriend material

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

"Shit."

It had been such a long time since Bradley wore anything other than a flight suit, a khaki uniform or gym clothes, he had no idea what he was supposed to wear to dinner tonight. You mentioned weeks ago you thought Italian food sounded nice for a second date, and he agreed wholeheartedly. He managed to snag a table for the two of you at Salvatore's, and he was absolutely prepared to drop over five hundred bucks, but his clothing was becoming a situation.

After spending the entire day with you yesterday, Saturday morning was a bit of a reality check. He was trying to work through three loads of laundry while he sorted through a box of mail. There was nothing sweet in there like the packages you and your class sent to him while he was deployed. It was mostly bills that had already been automatically paid online, mortgage statements, and junk. Then he started folding laundry, somehow expecting some articles of clothing that weren't threadbare tee shirts or tropical print button downs to jump out at him.

"Why don't you have normal clothing?" he asked himself as he picked up his phone now that it was late enough to text you. He wanted to make sure you were okay with grabbing a drink before the dinner reservation which wasn't until 7:45. But when he unlocked his phone, instead of zero new messages, he found a picture you sent seven minutes ago. 

"Oh my god," he groaned softly, dropping onto his bed next to some unfolded laundry. You were in your own bed wearing his favorite sweatshirt and a bright smile.

Good morning, Handsome. Last night felt like a dream, but your sweatshirt is real, so it must have happened.

He scrambled to write back, clothing crisis forgotten. God, he wanted to be in that bed in the worst way. Things would definitely get out of hand pretty quickly, but he knew those first few kisses would be the sweetest things. After last night at the beach, waiting for a few more dates was going to be the challenge of his life, but he wanted you to know he was in this for the long haul. Especially after you mentioned that you thought he may have ghosted you.

Hey, Gorgeous. My sweatshirt looks way better on you than it ever did on me. Did you sleep in it?

He hit send and then wished he hadn't asked that question. He sounded like a horny twenty year old. It was bad enough that he had to practically beg you to go inside your apartment last night while you were kissing his neck, but he didn't want to embarrass himself.

Of course I did. It smells like you. The only thing better would be having you in my bed, too...

How the hell was he supposed to wait until this evening to see you? He tossed his phone aside. His blood felt like it was on fire, and he was sweating. Never before had he wanted to move this fast from a first date to making things official. But he knew you. He'd been working up to this point for months. And the Thai dinner with Prosecco on the beach wasn't really a first date. That felt closer to a reunion with a girlfriend than anything else. The only thing missing for that to have been true was a sleepover instead of him taking you home for the night. 

He was too many steps ahead right now. You hadn't yet done the drive down to Coronado from Mira Mesa for yourself, but he already caught himself wondering if you'd consider moving in with him in the future. "You need to relax," he ground out through gritted teeth. "You'll scare her away." He cracked his neck and forced himself to fold a stack of underwear before picking up his phone to reply.

I don't want to rush things, but your bed does look very comfortable. I'm confident we could get cozy there... You're making me blush. I need to get this conversation back on track. Cocktails before dinner at Salvatore's? I'll pick you up at 5:30?

A few minutes later, you responded with a photo of you still all snuggled up in bed, smiling and giving him a thumbs up in his shirt.

--------------------------

"Just in case," you muttered, making sure your bedding was straightened and your room was tidy. You left Bradley's TOP GUN sweatshirt folded on your pillow, but you certainly wouldn't mind having the man himself in your bed tonight. Your fingers and toes tingled when you thought about it. You bit your lip and scooped up his shirt, inhaling his scent one more time before you realized he would be here any minute.

When he knocked on your door, you set it back on your pillow and glanced at yourself in the mirror as you bounced past it. Cocktails and dinner at Salvatore's would have been a major splurge for a night out for you, but Bradley selected the restaurant. All you did was mention Italian food, and he really ran with it. You'd have been happy with some pizza and breadsticks, simply excited he remembered you mentioned Italian food at all, but this called for your littlest black dress and your brightest red lipstick. 

"I'm coming!" you called, going as fast as you could in your black heels, giggling at the double meaning. You had to compose yourself before you could open the door, and when you did, you were met with the actual man of your dreams.

"Hey, Gorgeous." Bradley's crooked little smile faltered a bit as his gaze slid down from your eyes to your lips, but he didn't stop there. He was shamelessly checking you out as a pretty shade of pink crept up into his cheeks, and you did a slow turn for him. 

Your skin felt warm as you met his eyes after doing a full circle. His lips were parted as you whispered, "Hi," and reached for his hand. As soon as your skin met his, he pulled you closer to him. "Bradley." His lips were on yours as he backed you up into your apartment until you softly met the wall behind you. He was big and warm, and you were holding his left hand while his right one came up to your face.

He broke the kiss by tipping your chin up so you were looking at him. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he crooned softly. Your lipstick was smudged along his mouth, and his tongue darted out to taste it before he said, "I'm fucking crazy about you."

His rough thumb dragged along your bottom lip as you said, "And you've never even seen me dispose of a spider for you."

"Baby," he rasped. "I'd probably propose."

A shocked giggle escaped you, and his crooked grin was back as he kept you there against your wall with your door wide open. You reached up and ran your fingers along the collar of his oxford shirt before tugging on the fabric until his lips were on yours again. You let your head tip back against the wall as he devoured you, tasting your lips, tongue and teeth before his forehead came to rest gently on yours.

"You know," you gasped, trying to catch your breath, "I thought all your emails were sweet and romantic."

He chuckled as he pulled away from you. "I was hoping I was doing okay in person, too."

You shrugged playfully and tried to spin out of his grasp, but his hand was still wrapped up in yours. He followed you to your coffee table so you could grab your purse as you casually told him, "You're even better in person than I thought you'd be."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, pulling you close again. "You like my stupid looking clothes and how I can eat three meals for dinner?"

He was so endearing, you didn't know how to handle him. So you kissed him again and whispered, "I like all of it." You let your fingers trail along his shirt buttons as you said, "You look nice in this, but I can already tell you're more comfortable in your colorful Aloha shirts and jeans. And I love that you can eat three meals for dinner, because we ended up sharing everything last night."

"Let's go," he coaxed, leading you toward your door. "I'll let you pick whatever you want to try at Salvatore's. I don't usually like sharing my food, but there's just something about you, Gorgeous. You make me feel comfortable."

-------------------------

You tried to tell Bradley twice that he still had some of your lipstick smudged on his face, but he just shrugged and said, "Good," in response both times. If he didn't mind, then neither did you. It couldn't be any more obvious that he was with you when the exact color that was on your lips was also on his. You listened to him hum along to the retro oldies station as he merged onto the coastal highway while you took a minute to fix up your own smudged lipstick.

He grinned over at you as you put your makeup away and said, "Come on, Baby. If you didn't want it on my face, then you wouldn't be putting more on your lips."

Every time he made a bold statement like that, you wanted to cancel dinner altogether and take him to your bedroom. "I never said I didn't want it on your face. It looks good." 

He reached out blindly for your hand, and you grabbed his immediately. "You did tell me you wanted me to kiss you as soon as I saw you."

"Yeah," you muttered. "Don't stop doing that." You knew things with him were going to get physical pretty quickly, but you'd never been quite this attracted to someone before. You drew little shapes on his palm as you asked, "How was your first night back in your own bed after so many months away?"

He groaned softly. "Epic. Fantastic. I don't fit very well in an extra long twin bed."

"No, I would imagine you don't," you said with a laugh as you watched him drive his Bronco in the evening sunlight.

He licked his lips and grinned as he said, "Would have been better if you were there though."

The eruption of butterflies in your belly left you biting your lip. You wanted to respond, but you needed to be able to make it through dinner before you were hanging off of him again like you were last night. That's when he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles, treating you to his mustache there. "Feel like getting a drink or two in the lounge first? Maybe a bottle of wine?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, ready to go anywhere he took you. As soon as he parked, he jogged around to help you down, letting you slide against his body with your hands on his shoulders. You wobbled a bit in your shoes, but he kept you steady.

"You good?" he asked as he leaned in, his lips brushing the side of your neck as his arm wrapped around your waist.

"So good," you promised. "Never better."

Bradley kept his hand right there on your hip as he led you along the sidewalk toward the restaurant. The lounge was packed; this was definitely a popular weekend date night locale. Couples filled the space with noisy conversation, but you could hear Bradley perfectly as his lips found your ear when he said, "There's an empty stool at the far end of the bar." He gave your hip a little squeeze as you headed for it, and he leaned on the bar next to you. "Why don't you pick out a bottle of wine or whatever you want? I'll go let the hostess know we'll be hanging out in the lounge."

When you agreed, he kissed your lips like the two of you had been at this for years, not just since yesterday. You weren't the only one who watched him walk away in his snug pants and Oxford shirt that somehow showed off his biceps. He was just that good looking. When you saw him without a shirt on, you'd probably faint and need him to revive you. When the bartender came over, you were chuckling to yourself at the idea of having sex with Bradley while he kept his shirt on to save you from that fate.

"Can I get you a drink?"

You looked at him in a daze, realizing you meant to choose a bottle of wine. You blurted out what kind you liked best, and with a nod and a smile, he turned to fill your request. And that's when you finally looked at the menu and realized the bottle was more than a hundred and fifty dollars.

"Oh shit." But it was too late. He had already opened it and was heading your way with it. You scrambled in your purse for your wallet, cringing at the idea of Bradley seeing the bill when you could have simply ordered a cocktail instead. Just as the bartender was pouring out a bit of the wine for you to try, you found your credit card successfully. And that was also when Bradley came back.

"They'll come get us when our table's ready," he said. "I told them it would be easy to find me since my date is the most beautiful woman in the restaurant." He watched the bartender pick up a second glass and said, "Oh perfect, you found some wine that you like."

You nodded and tried your best to pass your credit card across the bar undetected with your hand covering it. "I sure did."

Bradley's eyes followed your hand as he took a sip of the wine. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," you told him, picking up your own glass with your other hand. You tasted the wine and nodded at the bartender, and then he filled up both glasses while Bradley reached for your credit card.

"That's not necessary, Gorgeous. You can put that away."

You waited until the bartender walked off before you shook your head. "Let me pay for the wine. I was distracted and just picked a random bottle before I looked at the price, and then it was too late because he already had it opened. It's expensive."

Bradley looked completely unfazed as he eased your card from your hand and tucked it back into your wallet. "I don't care about that."

"I do," you said softly in your embarrassment. "I don't want you to think that's what I expected."

Bradley laughed in response. "First of all, I would never think that. And second, I was on that aircraft carrier for so long, and this wine tastes so good, and you look so pretty... I don't even want to tell you how much I'd be willing to pay for that bottle of wine and our dinner."

You simultaneously felt better and a little warm. "Okay, fine. But next time we go out for dinner, we're getting burgers from In-N-Out, and I'm paying."

His smile grew as you sipped your wine which really was quite good. "So that means you want to go out again?"

You rolled your eyes up at him where he stood, his hand brushing your knee where it was crossed over your other leg. "I'm about to make an In-N-Out reservation right now."

"Perfect," he replied. "Which night? I have to work late a few days next week to get caught up on everything I missed while I was away."

"You're ridiculous," you told him with a laugh. "How about Wednesday?"

His fingers toyed with the hem of your dress as he said, "Wednesday's good. You also need to let me know when I can visit your classroom again." His words were so sweet, and his gaze was sincere, but the feel of his fingertips inching along your skin above your knee was something else. 

You set your glass down next to your purse and reached for his hand, letting his fingers slip underneath your dress as you met his brown eyes. When he teased your skin with his rough hands, you reached for his shirt, and Bradley came willingly. Salvatore's didn't provide the two of you with the same level of privacy as the beach last night had, but you didn't really care, and he didn't seem to either.

-----------------------------

You had the softest skin. How was he supposed to keep his hands off you? And that red lipstick made your little pout when he teased you even more delectable than he could have imagined. And he'd been doing plenty of imagining for the last few months. He'd imagined you in a variety of scenarios with him, but so far being with you in person surpassed everything his vivid thoughts came up with.

When he mentioned visiting you at work, you treated him to the silky soft feel of your skin, and then you literally grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged until he was kissing you. Oh god, he was never going to recover from this. He had to wrap his hand around the middle of your thigh to keep himself from going any further as you moaned softly into his mouth. He was absolutely starving and a little dizzy from the wine, but he was thinking about skipping dinner in favor of the solitude of the Bronco right now.

"Mr. Bradshaw?"

Your tongue was slowly tasting his when you jerked away from him as the hostess strolled over. Embarrassed, you turned toward the bar as Bradley grunted in response at the young woman who told him the table was ready for the two of you. And maybe that wasn't a bad thing, because feeling you up in the middle of the crowded lounge wasn't something he'd feel good about later. At least not on the second date. He'd bring you back here in a few months and see if the two of you even made it to dinner.

With a smile, he reached for your free hand after you picked up your glass. You halfway hid your face against his bicep as the hostess picked up the bottle and led the way through the lounge and into the restaurant. Bradley kissed your forehead and murmured, "If I could keep my hands off of you, this wouldn't be a problem."

You peered up at him through your lashes. "Hanging out on your couch alone is sounding better and better."

"Fuck," he groaned softly as you released his hand and took a seat at the table set for two which was overlooking the bay. Bradley pushed your chair in, and his thumbs met your bare arms. He took a few deep breaths before taking the seat opposite yours and accepted one of the menus as he listened to the specials while he looked at your face. He muttered some sort of response, and then the two of you were alone.

You emptied the remainder of the wine between his glass and yours, and then Bradley watched you lick a little droplet from your thumb as you smiled at him. "So which three dinners are you planning on ordering tonight?"

It took him a second to realize that he was holding an open menu even though he hadn't looked at it once. He cleared his throat and said, "Definitely some homemade spaghetti and meatballs. The last time I ate spaghetti, it was overcooked and sad, and I had to go back to my bunk and think about you to make myself feel better." You covered your mouth with one hand while you laughed, and it was the most charming thing he'd ever seen. "I'm so serious, Gorgeous. I got a plate of soggy noodles, and literally the only thing that made it better was imagining you teaching your class about military grade jets and aviation."

Your pretty eyes were glittering as you told him, "I keep extending my lessons on the topic, and you are completely to blame for that. After the first time you responded to us, my students asked about you every single day. They are completely enamored with you."

"Yeah? Just them? Or you too?" He knew his words were reminiscent of the way you'd tried to blame it on your kids when you asked him to send you a picture so you could see what he looked like.

"Hmm." You pretended to peruse your menu. "I'm thinking about the ravioli. Or maybe the penne with vodka sauce." Your foot tapped his leg beneath the table, and he had to fight the urge to reach under and touch your skin again. You were teasing him in every way right now, and he was absolutely loving it. When the waiter dropped off glasses of water and some freshly baked bread, he asked if you wanted anything else to drink.

"You want another bottle of wine, Gorgeous?" Bradley asked, deciding to tease you right back.

"Absolutely not," you told him, looking at him like he had two heads before kindly telling the waiter, "No, thank you."

He was still laughing when he picked up a piece of bread. "So we'll get spaghetti, penne and ravioli?"

"You don't have to order what I want," you told him, your foot still running along his calf while your expression dripped with innocence.

"No. I want to though." It was kind of fun spoiling you with something as simple as dinner. Vanessa would have made a comment by now about how much she hated the slightly kitschy, over the top restaurant, even if the food was supposed to be immaculate. You didn't seem to mind one bit that he ordered three massive entrees and intended to finish whatever you didn't. Vanessa always got embarrassed, but all you said was that you were excited to try all three.

There was never a lull in conversation. You actually listened to Bradley when he was talking, and he could have listened to you all night.

"So you know how last night I mentioned... that I'd never really thought about dating someone in the military who deploys for work?"

"Yeah," Bradley rasped, not sure he loved where the conversation was heading.

You looked a little apprehensive as you said, "I was thinking about it more last night after you dropped me off." 

"And?"

You kind of shrugged and said, "I think I'd actually be okay with it, as long as it's you. It almost feels like we got some big, scary thing out of the way already, you know? And I could always write to you, because I kind of loved doing that. And yes, Bradley, I am also completely enamored with you."

It was almost a shame that the food arrived then, because as you started to cut into an enormous ravioli, all he could think to say was, "I'm completely enamored with you, too."

-----------------------------

You were so full from dinner, you didn't know how Bradley could walk. He ate at least two times what you did, and then he insisted on ordering a piece of cheesecake. When you caught sight of the bill, you tried not to gasp, because it was more than you spend on groceries for a whole month. But he handed over his credit card and signed his name without even breaking conversation with you. And now you were discreetly grabbing a handful of mints on your way out of the restaurant as he held your hand.

It was late, and you knew he was still tired. He mentioned briefly that he had a lot of chores to do this week amidst some late nights at work, but you didn't know how you'd be able to wait until Wednesday to see him again. When he started up the Bronco and headed in the direction of your apartment, your mind flooded with questions, but he asked you one first.

"I already have plans tomorrow, but I don't think I can wait until Wednesday to see you again. What time do you usually get to school?"

"7:20."

"Okay. And what kind of coffee do you like?"

You couldn't stop smiling as you told him what you usually ordered on the rare occasion you had time to stop at Starbucks. You kind of already felt like he was spoiling you.

"Have you memorized everything I've ever told you?"

"Yep," he replied, his handsome smile evident in the street lights. "And I've gotta say, you're one of a kind, Gorgeous."

You honestly didn't want the ride to end. The fact that there was no buffer of traffic to add to the twenty minute drive made you pout a little bit. Bradley's deep voice layered over the music playing on the radio while he held your hand was intoxicating, but you made a disappointed sound as he parked in front of your building.

When he released your hand to kill the engine in the near darkness, all you could see was his handsome profile. "You thought the drive would be too much for me," you whispered. "But when I'm in the car with you, I don't want it to end."

He cleared his throat and softly said, "Well, we don't have to get out quite yet if you don't want to."

Your pout turned into a grin as you unbuckled your seatbelt. "I can tell you still need to catch up on some sleep. I don't want to keep you out too late, Bradley."

He chuckled and undid his own seatbelt. "Why don't you come a little closer and say my name again."

As you eased yourself onto your hands and knees, you scooted across the seat and whispered, "Bradley," with a little laugh.

"Closer?" he asked, and you crawled over to him until you were able to kiss his cheek.

"Bradley."

He turned his head so his lips met yours, and he whispered, "Closer," against your mouth.

You were immediately in his lap, your hands resting on his chest as the steering wheel met your lower back. Your lips found his scarred cheek just like last night, and you kissed your way along his mustache and the side of his nose. You let your hands drift slowly down over his abs until they met the leather of his belt, and you whispered his name one more time.

His big hands closed around your wrists as he groaned, "You really love teasing me."

You nodded and said, "I really do," as he guided your hands up to his shoulders and around his neck.

"You're really good at it, Baby. All those pictures of you in your bed are enough to get a man through a deployment and then promptly kill him once he's on dry land if he can't touch you immediately."

He kissed the inside of your arm, and you scooted your body a little closer to his. "You can touch me." Your words elicited a deep groan as he slid his big hands along your bare arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He kissed your lips, swiping his tongue against yours as his fingers trailed down your sides. You almost cried out when his thumbs grazed the sides of your breasts before he gently squeezed your waist and your hips.

You could invite him to stay over. You didn't think he'd turn you down if you did. But all you could manage to say was, "Bradley," between kisses.

He tipped his head back against the headrest and whispered, "I love the way that sounds." His eyes were glittering in the darkness as he looked at your face and your body, and you remembered his text message from earlier.

I don't want to rush things

It was hard for you to remember that yesterday in your classroom was the first time you touched him. The first time you heard his voice in person. As much as you wanted to lean in close and ask him to stay, instead you kissed his ear and said, "You promised me movie night on your couch. When?"

"Friday?" he asked, kissing along your neck. "Let me end the week with my Gorgeous girl?"

"Yes."

You were afraid you were going to melt right out onto the pavement when he opened his door, but he helped you down and kept his arm wrapped around you. Bradley walked a half step behind you in the darkness all the way to your apartment. While there was no expectation that he was going to join you inside, you ended up pinned against your door, because it didn't seem like he was quite ready to leave yet either. 

He was eager. You could feel it as his lips found your neck again. He smiled against you as he whispered your name in that deep raspy voice. "Since you don't like surprises, I'm telling you right now that you should expect to see me in the parking lot at your school on Monday morning. Sound okay?"

"Oh god, yes," you whined as he released you. There were so many things you wanted to tell him as he put a foot of space between your bodies, really giving you a chance to see his pink cheeks and the way he was breathing deeply. You blurted out, "I'm falling so hard for you."

His crooked little grin was back as he nodded at your door. "Lock it behind you. And when you get in bed, in my sweatshirt, send me another selfie."

"I will," you promised, and you did exactly what he said. A minute after you texted the photo, you got a message back from him.

I think I'm falling even harder.

-----------------------

I'm so obsessed with them. She was so concerned about that bottle of wine! And he really wasn't lol. Coffee and burgers and a couch date coming up. This story will be 18+ soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 11

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@marve2014

@furiousladyking

[jasonswhitetuftofhair]

“Come at me, Baby”

Characters/Pairings : Jason Todd (Red Hood) x female!reader.

Synopsis : Jason and Reader spar and after training things get steamy filthy.

Content Warnings : SMUT. Slow burn. Poor writing. Lots of plot. Training/Sparring (reader learns combat). Curse words. Pet names. Overstimulation. Multiple orgasms. Protected sex. Size kink (barely noticeable). Oral (fem rec.). Fingering. Dry humping. Use of object as toy (Jason uses a muscle massage gun on you). Vaginal intercourse. Light bondage (Jason ties your hands w/ resistance bands). Reader insert (sorry). Aftercare.

Fandom : DC, Batman.

Word Count : 5202

Author’s Notes : First fic I’ve written. Like ever. Also, this is a repost; I originally posted this for the first time in October 23’ but I deleted it in December 23’ due to insecurity.

This week had been tiring. Multiple meetings, a lab breakout scare, a few late night patrols all on top of studying the material you’d been given had started to add up. All you wanted was to retire for the night, go to your room and take a nice, relaxing, long, hot bath. Gorge yourself with junk food and put your show on, and then sleep like the dead. But no, tonight called for an evening training session with your training instructor.

Jason. Jason Todd. Before you had entered the gym, you weren't sure if you would be up to train tonight. But watching him enter the double doors with his hot-as-hell all black tactical pants, skin tight athletic t-shirt and combat boot ensemble quickly made you reconsider. As if it was hard.

Ever since Bruce had finally gotten Jason to accept his proposal of conducting training sessions with everybody, you’ve been feeling like a sitting duck. You had been trying to hide your feelings from the older vigilante for a while now. A while as in since you first arrived at the manor. Nearly eight months had you been stumbling around whenever he was near, barely making eye contact and feeling like an idiot because of him. And you had been succeeding, too! Barely, but still. He didn't know anything and now with your new arrangement, how could he not pick up on the vibes you were sending out? It was only a matter of time before your feelings were compromised and you were left heartbroken and feeling like a fool, your friendship with him long gone.

It wasn't so bad, though. You had always been good at adapting and Jason wasn't necessarily bad on the eyes. It was kind of fun, too. His little dry humored remarks, shared inside jokes and just…him, made him good company. After all, he was your friend. You haven't known him long, but it still felt like you’ve known him forever. But that was the problem. Your friendship with him was too much of a treasure to have it be risked just because of a little crush. You’d rather be plagued by the overwhelming melancholy of your predicament than not have him at all. If the only way you could allow yourself to indulge in the feel of his hands on your body was when he was training you in combat, then that was something you were okay with settling for.

“Earth to Y/N. Um hellooooo, you there?” Jason’s equally teasing and concerned words pulled you from your trance you hadn't even realized you’d fallen into.

Your embarrassment quickly appeared on your face and didn't go unnoticed by him. “Yes! Sorry, I’m here.” Having been snapped out of your thoughts, you noticed that Jason had you held against him mid-air. You threw a punch at him, but he of course dodged it so you did what you first thought next. You tried to kick him in his side but he quickly grabbed your ankle and gently but strongly twisted it so that your body changed direction. Before you could lose balance and fall he grabbed your other thigh and caught your body against his, holding you to him. You didn't react at all, though, and his initial thought was that he crossed a line he didn't know of and did something to upset you. He called your name and you didn't answer the first time so he paused the lesson and brought you back to him.

He was a little worried, honestly. He knew you to be like this, often catching you staring off into space and likely daydreaming or stuck in deep thought. It was your expression, though. The mild sorrow, a little bit of adoration shining in those pretty eyes he loved so much, too.

“You sure? We can take a break if you need it,” he offers, gently smiling at you, “is everything okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?” he asks worriedly. Gazing into his eyes, your heart almost swells up. He looks so genuine, like it would hurt him if he hurt you and you let yourself pretend it's for other reasons. “Yes, I’m fine, promise. Just have a headache s’all.” It's enough to relax him just the slightest but he doesn't believe you. Your body language is just not convincing enough. He finally puts you down and lets his eyes skim all over you. He tells himself it's to check for signs of discontent or injury, but he knows he can't lie to himself. Youre just too fucking beautiful. He shakes himself out of it before the blood rushes south and gets back to the lesson.

“So. You really need to get out of the habit of kicking. It can't be your first instinct, sweetheart. You're exposing an entire limb to the enemy and you're not skilled enough yet to counter whatever it is they plan on doing. I know it's hard, but you need to really start implementing your upper body strength,” he explains to you, occasionally letting his fingers linger on your skin when showing you what the enemy could potentially do to you. You truly appreciate how gentle and accommodating he is when it comes to teaching you. You’ve seen him train with the others and sometimes his harsh tone is enough to make you jump even when his words are directed to someone else. He’s been so patient with you and the thought of him going out of his way to train your aversion-to-fighting self makes your heart flutter. You nod along with him, letting him know you haven't gone off to La La Land again.

“Alright. Come at me, honey,” he orders while positioning himself in the default defense stance. Legs strong, but ready to move. Arms by his side ready to catch and balance. Core strong and taut, chest puffed. Eyes on you, just as he likes it. He finds it adorable how clueless your little expression is. Eyes wandering all over the place, arms trying to find a good way to support yourself and legs waddling to their correct position. Like a baby deer learning how to walk. He hears your little words of encouragement to yourself and watches your eyes, watching the gears turn in your brain. While his focus is stuck on your pretty face, he doesn't notice your left hand curling behind you while you spin yourself around, pressing your back to his front. He grunts and catches your right hand before it can land around his bicep. You quickly move your feet backward and jump behind him, putting all your strength into kicking his back hamstring, but he’s already several steps ahead of you. He turns around before your foot can land and grabs your ankle, destabilizing your legs and grabbing your wrists, holding them tight in his right hand.

This of course leads his mind to other things, things that would involve this very position. You curl your leg around his stretched leg and twist your body around, landing you on top of him. Your legs straddling his abdomen and palms resting on his waist. He doesn't mind at all, though and senses a pause in your movement. He notices your tired expression, your flushed face and neck, the sweat on your hairline, neck and brow. You jump, as if just now realizing the position you had him in. You move to sit next to him and he moves into a sitting position, no longer back to floor. You flash him a cheeky grin, happy with yourself for winning this time.

“Did I do good?” you ask him excitedly and he chuckles, your pretty little smile having caused his heart to skip a beat. ‘Did I do good?’. That phrase would be on repeat in his brain for a little while, he could tell. The way you seeked his approval caused his groin to stir and he stood up, quick to distract himself.

“You did. I’m proud, that was much better. We’re gonna focus on your upper torso, now, okay?” He guides you to stand and places his hands on either sides of your shoulders, guiding you to stand in front of him. “I'm gonna throw at you, and you're going to block them.” He playfully wiggles his fist in front of you and you grab onto it giggling. Oh how he adores that sound. He sneakily aims and his fist appears next to your collarbone, you move your body out of the way. He does it again, this time it comes next to your left shoulder. You grab his wrist with both hands and block it. He doesn't miss the way you needed both hands to wrap around his wrist. He moves again, fist to the right of your face. Your eyes widen and he shushes you and you relax. You both know he wouldn't make a move to successfully cause you harm.

This goes on and on for what seems like forever. Your stamina has dwindled down a while ago and he can tell how tired you are. He thinks about cutting training early, but for his own selfish reasons he decides against it. He doesn't want your time together to end. Still, you're barely putting in any effort and you're certainly not trying to hide it from your instructor. His eyes haven't left you since the session began and he was very pleased with all the intel he’s received. Your short, panted breaths. The way your cheeks and neck flushed with that pretty shade of pink that suited you so well. Your wide eyes, how they seemed to sparkle under the annoyingly bright lights of the gym. How they seemed to water whenever he stared into them for too long. Your wobbling lip whenever you got a little too into it. How you went out of your way to put both of your hands on him, regardless of if it was beneficial or not. The way you didn't even move out of the way of his punches anymore. You just watched the muscles of his arms flex and wished they were around you instead.

“You gotta put in some more effort for me, princess. I know you can do it,” he tells you, cooing at the way you whine at him, silently wishing he would end training early. He chuckles. “C’mon, block em’, sweetheart.” You roll your eyes and try to muster up whatever strength left in your exhausted body. Your hands meet his and successfully block a hit. He doesn't forget how you rolled your eyes, though. What he wouldn't do to have you bent over his lap for that. He finishes with the punches and leads you to the equipment.

He stands you in front of the power rack looking thing, gripping your waist and holding you up, waiting for you to grab onto the handles on top. “Chin-ups. Fifteen of em’,” he tells you and you groan. He knows you hate chin ups. “Tsk, tsk. C’mon, princess. Don't make it twenty. These help with your shoulder and bicep strength. Use an underhand grip, palms facing you.” You sigh and get into position, starting what he told you to do. You made sure to be as dramatic as possible, though; you were too tired to keep the brat in you at bay. Jason, on the other hand, doesnt try to hide the way he is blatantly staring at your ass, thighs and waist. He burns the image in his mind and moves closer to you, holding onto your waist to make you feel secure.

You huff and sigh out, hoping he’ll give into you. Throughout the entirety of the session, his hands have been on you. His breath has been on your neck. The feel of his body on yours. Him in your proximity. It was frustrating. Having him so close, but far away. Little did you know he felt the same. His hands move to rub encouraging circles into your hips and you whimper out loud, to your embarrassment. He doesn't even try to hide his smirk, though. Once the exercises are done, he holds onto you, purposefully moving his big hands to rest on your ass, bringing you down. You’re done with his teasing and turn around, pressing your palms flat to his chest and keeping him at bay. You signal with your eyes that you’re not in the mood for the teasing and he coos, holding your face between his two hands. “Is there something you want, baby?” you whine and cry out for him trying to hide your face into his chest but he only lifts your chin back up so he can see you. “Come on, sweetheart, if you want something you have to ask for it.” “hmph! I want you to stop teasing me, Jason!” He smiles wickedly and lets you go. “Training is over,” he states simply and you sigh contentedly, walking to the locker room.

Before you can open it, though, Jason’s hand wraps around your wrist and you turn to him. “You didn't actually think I was done with you, did you?” he asks but doesn't wait for an answer. He opens the door to the locker room and guides you into it before locking the door. In an instant you're pressed against the door, cold wood on your back, and Jason’s mouth on yours. It's not much of a fight for dominance, his tongue having beat yours instantly. It feels heavenly. Not just the feel of his tongue in your mouth, tasting yours, but finally all this pent up tension leaving your body. You sigh into the kiss, Jason’s hand comes up behind your neck to grab the hair at the base and you mewl against him.

You were losing oxygen and his kisses traveled from your lips, to your chin, to your jaw, the sweet spot on your neck. His big hands wrapped tightly around your waist and the feel of his open-mouthed kisses on your neck has your jaw slack and breathing uneven. He smiles at the way you look like a puppy with your open mouth and panting, practically drooling.

“This okay, sweetheart?”

You were practically soaking through your panties by now and the tenderness of his words and low pitch of his voice certainly wasn't helping. You nod a yes and throw your head back at the feel of his harsh sucking on your neck and collarbone. He growls and spanks your bottom, “I need words, Y/N,” he commands and you whine out loud yet again. “Yes! Please, need you, Jason,” you tell him and that’s all he needs to hear.

Carrying the two of you, he picks you up and holds you against him. Your legs wrapped against his waist and he sits down on a bench, you still on his lap. His kisses don't stop and the feel is euphoric. His hands haven't stopped roaming your body. The feel of his big hands groping at your soft, supple flesh through the clothing separating you from him combined with just…him, was damn near enough to make you go crazy. You were tugging at his hair and pressing your face against the crook of his neck, desperate to smell his pheromones and your soft lips pressing kisses of your own against his neck had him hard against you already. When you felt his hardness against your tummy you gasped and tugged on his hair a tad bit harder and he moaned against you. Little curses left his mouth and you were seeing stars. Nothing had barely even happened and you were already this close to being admitted into Arkham Asylum.

Suddenly his hands paused their movements and his tone became one of seriousness. He grabbed your chin and forced your face towards his. Your pretty little glossed over eyes shining up into his had his breath hitch and for a split second he forgot what he needed to do. He could see the curiosity on your face, your teeth tugging your lower lip and he had to avert his eyes.

“Fuck, Y/N. I need to tell you something. I-I like you, Y/N. And not just in a friendship way. I understand—” he started but you cut him off, lurching towards him even more and grabbing his head between your hands, kissing him with a force you didn't know you could possess. He could feel you smile into the kiss and he let you have control this time. Not for long, though. He grabbed your hair into his fist and you gasped. “I-I like you, too, Jason. Have for a while now,” you mumbled against him and he grabbed your plump bottom with both hands, bringing your body flush with his. This only fueled the fire, though; his rock hard cock straining against his pants feeling your core against him had him clenching his jaw and closing his eyes, trying to control himself a little bit.

“I like you a lot, Jason. A lot a lot,” you whimpered against his lips and he smiled. You could see the genuinity in his eyes and the softness in his smile. He placed a gentle kiss against your forehead and then one on your nose and finally one on your lips. “I'm glad, sweetheart. Very glad,” and with that he grabbed your hips and shifted your legs a little bit. He forcedly rocked your clothed cunt against his hardness and your eyes closed, head tossed back. It was almost too much, too fucking much. You had been teased all night long and with all this foreplay you weren't sure if you would last. You tried to paw his hands off of your hips and stop your movement, but you just weren't strong enough. His devilish grin staring up at you, his pretty girl, had you whining and grow the ache in your pussy. “Stop, ‘s too much, stop, please, Jay,” you begged against him and all he could do was smile. “Stop? You want me to stop? But I’m not even doing anything, baby,” he teased. He knew he was teasing the damnit out of you. Even as you begged for mercy, there you were, still riding his clothed dick. You couldn't help but follow his lead though, your hips couldn't help but relish in the feeling of his hands tight on them, guiding you back and forth. Even if you wanted to you weren't sure if you could stop. God, it felt so good. Nothing you had ever felt like before. His hands on your hips and his mouth abusing your sensitive skin. The hardness of him grinding directly onto your clit. It was all so amazing.

He could tell you were close. He’s never had you before but he already knew all your tells. Your panting and labored breaths. The way you couldn't keep your eyes open. The stuttering of your hip movement. How you tried to get closer to him, even though you were flush to him. Gasps and whimpers leaving your mouth. Your hands tried to paw his hands away yet again. Think you’d learn the first time. His mouth went right back to sucking marks into your skin and he cooed at you. “C’mon, babygirl. You can do it. I know you need it, sweetheart. Just let go and cum for me,” he softly commanded. Hips following his words, your pace quickened and he ground you down onto him. His own hips jerked up and his cock spanked your core. Within moments the climax unraveled and you let out a screech. The white hot bliss greeted you and the power of your orgasm could be felt in every nerve ending of your body. You shook for a good thirty seconds and your vision went blurry. You slumped against him tiredly and he chuckled. His soothing hands rubbing circles into your back and sweet nothings helped calm you down and your high rode out. You lazily started unbuckling his belt and he grabbed your wrists, stopping you. Oh how you liked the feel of his hands grabbing you like that. “Tsk, tsk, Princess. ‘M not done with you yet.”

In an instant he was untying your shoe laces, kicking them off your feet and forcing your pants down to your ankles. His hands ripped your panties off and you were exposed. The brisk air was biting against your wet cunt and you gasped slightly. He raised you up against the lockers and wrapped your legs around his head, hands planted firmly on your ass holding you midair. The smell of your arousal and the previous orgasm dripping everywhere had him painfully hard. “Tell me if it's too much, baby, and I’ll stop, okay?” You whispered a ‘yes’ and he finally satiated his desire to have your cunt in his mouth. His mouth went straight for your clit and you shrieked at the feeling. His light little sucks on the nub had you rolling your eyes back and jerking your hips. Continuous moans leaving your mouth only encouraging him. He licked a stripe straight up and down the length of your pussy and his own moans left him. You tasted fucking delicious. Like everything he had imagined. All those times he imagined how you’d feel and he was finally fucking seeing for himself. He felt like a kid on goddamn Christmas, his hands tightening his grip on your ass. You were sure there’d be handprints in the morning. His thumb went to rub rough circles on your little bundle of nerves while he thrust his tongue in and out of your weeping hole. You started to cry out for him, hands pushing against his head and fingers gripping his hair attempting to pull him off of your pussy. Absolute the fuck not. He looked to his right and to his luck there was a set of resistance training bands hanging from a hook. He smirked and looked up at your fucked out face and he chuckled to himself. Holding you up with one hand, he reached to his side and grabbed a cable band. You watched his movement and saw what he was doing and your eyes widened. The kinky bitch. “C’mon, princess. Give em to me. Since you don't know how to keep your hands to yourself, I have to take em away from you,” he teased playfully condescending. He tied your hands together behind your back with the workout gear and he hummed satisfied with himself before resuming his meal. He was fucking merciless with his tongue and you soon learned your crush was a borderline sadist. His mouth wrapped around your clit and his sucks were harsh and unforgiving. Like a man starved, he ate you like you were the last source of hope for his soul. His finger started fucking you, too. He started with one but your drenched hole quickly accommodated for more. Soon enough you were on the brink of another orgasm and he forced it from you roughly. “Again, sweetness. You can cum again, cant you? Give me another.”

The orgasm brought tears to your eyes and you wouldn't stop shaking. Your thighs were quaking around his head and your back arched off of the cool metal of the lockers you were propped against. Toes curling, head thrown back, continuous moans and screams leaving your lips. Your second climax of the night arrived and you screamed into the locker room, little sobs leaving your ruined body. He let you ride out your orgasm against his tongue until he was fully content and gently brought you down, placing one last kiss against your lower body. He sucked his fingers that were just shoved inside you, not breaking eye contact with your tired eyes. He placed his forehead against your own and wiped away your tears.

“You okay, baby? Was that too much?” he asked worriedly. He didnt want to fuck up his first time with you and feared he lost control of himself. You smiled tiredly against him and shook your head lightly. “‘M okay, promise. Jus’ need you, Jason.” He smiled and shuffled you towards the mirror and sinks. He took off his shirt and laid it on the edge of one of the sinks he was about to bend you over. You realized it was for your comfort and smiled up at him, feeling your heart swell up. Even when he was about to absolutely obliterate your cunt, he still managed to be a gentleman. He unbuckled his pants and finally his cock sprung up. He sighed, finally feeling relief. He watched you stare at his size through the mirror, seeing your eyes widen and your teeth tug on your lip. He lightly guided you into the position he wanted you in and you sighed contently, feeling comforted by the thought you would finally be fucked by him. Watching him pull a condom out of nowhere and rip it open with his teeth had you on the edge of your seat. He sheathed himself with it and made sure everything was ready. “Ya’ ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked while lining his tip up with your entrance, smearing your wetness all around his head. You gasped and shouted a little “yes” and he chuckled, sinking in. Even with two orgasms loosening your little cunt up for him, he was still a little much to adjust to. Both of your heads tossed back in sync and you closed your eyes, sighing for him. You worked your hips against him, wanting to feel more. He grunted and grabbed you by your hair, bringing your head up to look in the mirror. “Keep your eyes up here, baby.”

Once you were fully adjusted to his size, he slid almost all the way out and then re-entered your warm, wet heat. It felt so good. He set a pace and it was so heavenly. You could cry with how good it felt. You both needed this, needed this release for all the pent up frustrations in your lives. Sounds of flesh smacking against flesh and his grunts and your little sighs filled the room and the smell of sex was heavy in the air. His hands were on either side of your hips and his eyes met yours in the mirror. It was fucking exotic. Seeing your eyes perfectly, watching the pleasure unravel on your face. Pleasure he was giving you. His pace quickened a hair and you gasped. Your hips moved backwards against him, in time with his thrusts. You felt him deeper and the perfect rhythm of his cock repeatedly hitting that spot inside you almost hypnotized you. He smirked a little bit as he watched your fucked out face in the mirror. No thoughts, head empty. It was clear only pleasure was what you felt.

You didn't even notice him reaching above the both of you and retrieving something from the cabinet. Only when you heard the familiar buzzing noise did you wake up from the transe you were in and see what he had in the mirror. A muscle massage gun. For a moment you were a little confused, why was he hurt? Then you felt the big spherical head of the gun against your clit and your eyes rolled to the back of your head for the umpth time that night. He smiled and cooed at you from above. Yeah, he was definitely a sadist. He angled the gun a little bit to the left, wanting to overstimulate your abused little button. His thrusts hadnt ended and it was too fucking much. His pace was faster and harder and deeper now and had you both moaning up a storm. Your hands were finding themselves gripped onto the sink counter and you were struggling to keep your eyes open and in the mirror. He moved the massage gun setting higher and kept it firm against you. Your thighs were shaking and you were glad you were being held against the sink by him. You weren't sure you would be able to keep yourself up if you weren't.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Give me one more, please. I know you can. Cum for me, sweetheart.” You closed your eyes, feeling bliss about to erupt in you again. He quickly corrected you, though. His hand not being used to hold the machine to your clit came up to your throat, squeezing lightly on the sides. Not enough to cause genuine pain or prevent oxygen into your blood, just enough to give you that lightheadedness and in an instant you came on his cock. Your final orgasm was so intense and pleasurable—not surprisingly—and it lasted nearly thirty seconds. He removed the massage gun and returned both hands to your waist. His brutal thrusts as he chased his own orgasm helped you ride it all out. That blissful feeling that lasted longer than your orgasm did. All the stress leaving your body. Finally his sputtering hips stilled as he emptied his hot load into the condom and you whined, half wishing he was emptying himself into your wet little cunt instead. One day.

You both sighed and felt content again. You were sated and had finally gotten what you wanted. His loving palm rubbing circles into your lower belly, soothing you. He peppered light kisses on your skin and slowly slid out of your heat. He turned you around and kissed your forehead. All this loving kissing of his was making you wanna cry, it felt so good. Not just to be fucked right by him, but to have him, too. He was yours, now. And you were finally his. He grabbed your face between his palms and gazed lovingly into your eyes. “You okay, baby? Was that good? I didn't hurt you did I?” You smiled softly and nodded, “Yes, Jay. I'm perfect. You were amazing,” you reassured him with a blush.

He picked you up and sat you on the edge of the counter and got a washcloth from a basket, wetting it under the sink. He wiped the sweat and cum off your body and gave a kiss to each spot after it was clean. He helped dress you and by the time he was carrying you making his way to your room in the manor it was late. He opened your door and locked it behind him, leading you both to your attached bathroom. He undressed you again and turned on the shower. He lightly coaxed you in, seeing as you were so drowsy from all the night’s activities. He undressed himself and got in, lathering your body wash on a loofah and cleaning you. He wanted to make sure his baby was clean and cozy and content. When he was done washing you, he washed himself and enjoyed smelling like you a little too much. He carried you out of the shower and dried you off, clothing you in jammies and then put on some clothes you had stolen from him a while back.

He held you in his arms and you two cuddled each other all night long. You were his now and he couldn't be happier.

[theyluvlyss]

𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 !

and it's me getting to write henry being a simp🥴🥰. thank you for requesting, I honestly didn't think I'd get any for henry danger, so just this one has me allll /ᐠo⩊oマ !!! So ya, enjoy :).

𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

《 ♡ 》 oneshot

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :

being the girlfriend of swellview's resident sidekick could be tough sometimes. always covering for him, constantly worrying about his safety, forever missing him...

but, regardless, he always made sure to remind you that you are the most important thing in his life. even if he has to wake you out of a dead sleep to do it...

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 :

fem!girlfriend!reader x henry hart - she/her/hers pronouns! - knows henry's super-identity/works with captain man!

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 :

during season four (and up) (vaguely) - it's mildly implied to be winter

𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 :

cursing (I think? I don't remember, but just in case lol) - yelling (in a jokey/lighthearted way tho) - henry being so boyfriend - a poison ivy knock-off gets featured in here cuz I thought it would be funny lmao - lmk if I missed anything /ᐠ~˕~マ.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

As you stocked shelves and marked down certain pricey items for the holiday's swift approach, you couldn't help but huff. Couldn't help but wonder why it was you had agreed to such a position. Hardly anyone even comes into Junk n' Stuff! Why did you have to play pretend employee for a vacant audience when you could be down in the Mancave with Charlotte and Schwoz, observing and maybe even solving crime and mysteries?

At this point, you might as well have taken real a job at a real shop or store.

But, then again... you were getting the bonus perks of higher pay, given as your boss was a literal superhero. And, because of the fact that the whole of Junk n' Stuff was a front, customers were rare. It was like being on break from three to ten, only ever selling to the occasional old person looking for a rare trinket, or a curious kid looking to resell something "vintage." Whatever the case, you were on your phone for most of the time, and were always happy to work alongside your best friend and your superhero boyfriend.

The third perk, you realized, even if you weren't exactly on the field beside him. You supposed it wasn't all bad. It's not like a lot of other girls had the guilty pleasure of saying the same.

"I work at a fake mom and pop shop that barely gets any customers, but it's okay because it's just a cover up for my boss who's actually Captain Man, and his sidekick, Kid Danger, is actually my boyfriend. My best friend Charlotte and I work to keep him safe every other day, and to top it all off, I get paid more than what my parents make in a week."

You shook your head, huffing to yourself in amusement. Not only was it a mouthful to say, but it sounded insane. Not that you'd ever actually say it to anyone but yourself in your head. But, speaking- er, thinking of...

You pulled your phone from your back pocket, taking your focus off of the box of probably stale snacks you were stacking near the front desk and onto Henry's already open contact. You scanned over your thread of texts between each other, your last message from earlier in the day still left on delivered. You didn't take this to heart, already aware of how busy his missions tended to get. And dangerous, too, hence why you had initially sent...

─────────────────────

my man😙❤️

───────────

Be careful out there today, k?

Ily💞✨️

Delivered

─────────────────────

And sure, after checking now, seeing you'd been left on delivered the whole time mildly stung. But you understood and didn't allow that to be the thing that slightly dampened your mood. Instead, you remained worried for your boyfriend, contemplating if you should send another text his way. Or maybe even call him. Just to see...

You fanned the idea away, setting your phone face down on the floor and continuing to do your "job." Anything to take your mind off of the peril Henry could be facing right now, and the last thing he needed was you distracting him. You wouldn't be needy. At least, not right now. But you'd continue to wonder what was happening, where he was, what dangers he was facing...

"Oh...! (Y/N)."

You turned at the sound of your name, smiling as Charlotte stepped out of the elevator.

"It's past ten, I thought you'd be home by now."

"Me too...!" You sighed, a dry chuckle leaving along with. "I guess I was just subconsciously hoping Ray and Henry would be back by now."

Charlotte gave her own chuckle and an understanding nod at your half-joking confession, moving closer until she was squatted beside and assisting you with the rest of your stocking.

"I wouldn't worry too much. They got this. They always do."

"I know, it's just-"

"-Besides, it's only Greenleaf. And you already know..."

You two shot each other a knowing glance, finishing her sentence at the same time together before laughing.

"...She always folds for Ray."

As you set up the last of the snacks, the two of you stood, cardboard box on your hip while Charlotte had scooped up your phone and handed it back to you.

"You're right, you're right." You admitted, tossing your head from side to side with a shrug. "Plus, I'm pretty sure her goals are relatively Mother Nature related. Can't say I blame her."

"Excatly." Charlotte agreed. "She rarely ever does any real harm, so trust me, Henry will text you back before you know it."

And with that, you two shared your final goodbyes for the evening, and your fret had subsided. Like you said, she was right, Greenleaf more of a particular "low level" classified supervillain, which meant an easy battle. If you'd even call it that. You predicted that right about now, Ray was doing his best to appeal to her charm and romance to subdue her, and though gross... it always seemed to work, so you didn't question it.

With that in mind, you finally decided to call in, clocking out for the evening and daydreaming on the walk home of a hearty dinner, a hot shower, and the warmth and cozy of your bed.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

In the comfort of your room with your nighttime routine accomplished, you remained settled in bed with your eyes glued to your phone. Maybe not the healthiest option, but TikTok was very compelling in the late evenings. Especially when you needed a good laugh or a new song/audio to discover and add to your playlist. You scrolled endlessly, allowing the time to tick by without worry or care because tomorrow (in an hour or two) would be a stress free Saturday.

The millionth swipe upwards of your thumb brought you to your next video, a boy and a girl close in age to yourself participating in a trend that had been circling around for a little bit. It was cute, the way they both adorned wide, cheesy smiles, and their pajamas matched with each other. Even while they performed a popular dance, sticking to routine, you could sense the chemistry they had with one another through the screen. All of it ending with the boy scooping her into his arms, littering kisses across her face that she giggled at over the music.

If anyone asked, you'd be a little embarrassed to admit that you had let the video replay several times before giving it a like and then scrolling away. But, you couldn't - no - wouldn't deny the achy feeling it left you with.

Suddenly, you were no longer laughing at everything you saw and/or heard. No longer wishing to be on the app itself any longer because the ache in your chest was growing too much to bear. Too much for you to ignore, thinking about that random couple and their adorable antics.

How much it reminded you of your own boyfriend; how much you really did miss Henry. It wasn't like you didn't see each other often, practically every day. But it didn't stop you from always wishing to be near him, that he was with you. Family, school, and being a superhero did take up quite a bit of his attention, not that you doubted you were the fourth thing on his list. Selfishly, you assumed the second, at least...

But anyhow, in an attempt to rid yourself of the ache and to refrain from pestering him, you migrated from TikTok to your gallery, scrolling around until you reached a large cluster of pictures and videos from days past.

First thing, you were met with a short thread of silly pictures, Henry striking poses and making faces he'd forbid from showing to anyone, and you immediately sent them to Charlotte and Jasper agreed, for the sake of his dignity. Or just some random action shots, the complete blur of his figure due to moving too fast, which you would keep because they were still funny, after all.

But eventually, you came across a video, it automatically playing as you watched in reminiscence of your time at the mall together. You were both fresh from a Bath & Body Works, your phone's point of view shaking and aimed as though it were snooping around in your bag before pulling away and revealing your hand being held by none other than Henry himself.

"What'd ya' get me?" You chirped as though you hadn't just shown the audience already. But, it was clear you wanted to hear it from him at the time, both past/video and present you giggling at the way Henry shot a smirk your way with eyes that read, "Really?"

"What I always get you." He answered simply, looking ahead as you two walked. "The world."

"Harhar." You could be heard giving an equally sarcastic laugh before adding, "Yes, but specifically this time."

"Boba and (signature/scent)."

Again, both past/video and present you shared another laugh, and you were sure of the fact that you were admiring him shamelessly with your eyes full of love at that moment, just as you were now as the video went on.

"How come?" You pressed with glee, Henry's head shifting back towards you as he spoke.

"'Cause I love you. 'Cause you deserve it. 'Cause it feels gooood."

He laughed along with you at the way he elongated his words at the end of his sentence, a quirk he picked up from who-knows-where that always had you playfully rolling your eyes. In real time, though, the video had ended there, and you were swift to find another one, craving more of that feeling... that mock-comfort of Henry being with you when he actually wasn't.

It was the best you could do, for now, so you'd continue, snuggling deeper into your blankets and pillows while his voice kept ringing out from your phone.

"You smell really good." Was his first comment, ironically per the last video, stated while you admired yourself in selfie mode before switching to the back camera.

He was already stalking closer towards your position on his bed, in his room, before flopping down right into your lap and looking up at you like a puppy.

"And I love your eyes."

"My eyes?" You questioned, as though you were surprised, or as if he should be talking about someone else's.

"Mhm." He nodded slowly. "Your beautiful eyes and those lips of yours. You're too perfect, y'might have to get that checked out or something."

Your laugh at his joking statement caused the camera to shake, and it made you realize that in the moment, you had missed the way he continued to behold you. To cherish the rest of your features and run his hand against your lower stomach as his face flushed with red at the sound of your giggles. Laughter he caused, which made him happy, you assumed, given the way he couldn't even fight his own smile.

You wished you hadn't missed it all at the time, but were glad you were seeing it now; all of his love that then went poured into one gesture before the video ended.

He brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles with a gentleness you were still currently missing, the video ending, and the silence of your room setting in.

It didn't help the ache like you thought it would, possibly even making it worse. And because of that, you thought it wise to call it a night, giving your messages one more check before making the last minute choice to send another. A final one for the evening, because at least that would bring you peace of mind.

─────────────────────

my man😙❤️

───────────

Be careful out there today, k?

Ily💞✨️

Delivered

Goodnight

I love you sm<3

❤️✨️

Delivered

─────────────────────

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

"So, uhh... you ever try Olive Garden?"

The woman, hair fiery red and a fitted suit made from the vines and plants she created (which were now being chopped away at by police in light of her villainous attempts), shot the man, Captain Man, a look of confusion and disgust. If her wrists hadn't been bound by handcuffs, she'd send another vine after him just for his obliviousness.

"No. I would never in my life..."

She didn't even have to finish her sentence, the tone implying that she wouldn't be caught dead eating from a place that required slaughtering animals and ripping plants from the ground just to serve "fine" cuisine.

"Is Olive Garden not vegan?"

Greenleaf couldn't even fathom a rebuttal to such stupidity, that fact clearly written all over her face as she was hauled away by more policemen. Ray, of course, didn't exactly catch on but jumped at Henry's shout from behind.

"Dude...!" A pause, striking out a hand to further enforce his demand. "Stop flirting with the supervillain...!"

"I'm-! . . ." Ray couldn't even deny that he was doing such a thing (granted, Greenleaf is an attractive woman), but would take advantage of his older age anyhow, pointing an index finger towards his younger partner sternly.

"Mind your business! Unlike you, Kid Danger, I have had the pleasure of time, which has allotted me the grace of perfecting my wit, savvy, and charm, I'll have you know. So-"

He was interrupted by Henry's gloved palm resting against his face, serving as a method to stop him from strolling any closer while Henry casually scrolled through his phone, his tone all the same.

"Hang on, my girlfriend just texted me."

Ray scoffed, seconds away from letting Henry know that he shouldn't be distracted on the job. That is, until he continued to go on with a flat tone, underlying bits of hilarity under it in attempts to get under Ray's skin.

"Y'know, the thing you don't have? The girl I used my natural born wit, savvy, and charm on to win over?"

"I get it!!"

Henry looked up with a smile at Ray's exclamation, innocently nodding with a swift, "Yeah." before putting his attention back to his screen.

─────────────────────

my wife❤️

Be careful out there today, k?

Ily💞✨️

9:23p.m.

Goodnight

I love you sm<3

❤️✨️

11:37p.m.

─────────────────────

What had been giddiness at first morphed into a feeling of guilt, thoughts of your saddened face sinking deep into his brain the moment he realized he had missed your texts. That you had apparently even gone to bed without hearing so much as a word from him all evening.

And sure, he knew you'd probably excuse it the next day, simply telling him that it "was fine" and that you "understood." And while that might be the case, he couldn't help but give in to the thought that you'd much rather have gotten to hear from him tonight. At the very least.

Besides, it's not like he didn't miss you, too. He missed you a lot, actually. You constantly on the brain every single time he fought and/or solved any crime, because if there was one person he'd guarantee the safety of while being in Swellview, it was you. But, along with your safety, he also wanted to make things up to you. He wanted your happiness. And he knew he was one of the sole people who could provide that, therefore...

"Alright, I gotta' get outta' here."

"What?" Captain Man blinked rapidly, unexpecting of Henry's sudden announcement of departure. "No-! No, we have to clean up this mess. Look at all of these vines!"

"Yep, it's...quite the jungle." Henry admitted lacklusterly, nodding to himself before throwing a thumb over his shoulder and slowly backing away. "But, uh, it's Friday, and..."

"Exactly! Friday night, no school, which leaves you plenty of time to help me out. You're on clean-up duty tonight, bud!"

Henry, again, nodded along with Ray's words. He continued to take his giant steps away from the scene, talking fast and only thinking about you in the process, hence why his logic came out a little more than flawed...

"Right, except no, because last I checked, the saying goes, "Blow bubbles fight crime, feels good." Not, "Blow bubbles, fight crime, clean up a mess that's not mine." And, I gotta be honest, that would not feel very good. It would actually feel baaaad, which is exactly how you-know-who is probably feeling right about now..."

"Don't even say her name, kid."

A pause lingered in the air before Henry disobeyed direct instruction.

"I gotta go see (Y/N)."

And he was gone before the conversation could continue, Ray left on his own to help the police with deforesting the city's town hall. And, as much as it behooved him to do so, he couldn't help but admit to himself that if he was still Henry's age with a girl like you, he'd probably do the same.

He huffed, giving his sidekick the benefit of the doubt for tonight.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

Tossing and turning slowly as you woke, you hadn't yet processed what it was that had actually brought you from your slumber until you were fully sitting up in bed, finally able to recognize the sound as a gentle knock.

This then alarmed you, your head whipping around your surroundings in a flurry in an attempt to pinpoint the sound that had spiked up your heart rate in the dead of night. But, once you had managed to place the noise coming from your window, your fear settled into more of a light curiosity and confusion. It brought you from your bed, your feet now met with the cold air around you as you crept forward towards your window.

Steadily pulling back your curtains, your caution slowly turned into joy and surprise, a smile spreading across your face that matched the one on your boyfriend's own face behind the glass.

"Henry...!" You whisper-shouted, his name muffled as he watched you move to unlock your window. He was grateful that you were quick with this action, no longer having to mildly shiver outside while you pulled him through and onto your bedroom floor, admiring his figure in the dimness of your room.

"It's so late, what're you doing here?"

Your question escaped in the midst of a yawn, rubbing the sleep from your eyes while his own darted back to where the clock sat on your nightstand.

12:54a.m.

"I know, I'm sorry, (N/N). I didn't mean to wake you." He apologized, using a nickname that brought another smile to your face once the yawn had passed.

"I just...didn't want you to think I was ignoring you, y'know? I would've answered your texts sooner, I was just-"

"-I know." You cut in with a nod. "I understand, it's okay."

He laughed quietly to himself, all too correct about your compassion when it came to him that he sometimes felt he didn't fully deserve. Like now, keeping his hands hidden behind his back with something that'd hopefully make up for it all.

"It's not, though. I wanna be fair to you with my time. Want you to know that I care about you and that I'll be there for you, whether I'm Kid Danger or just Henry Hart."

"Woah, hey, you're not... just Henry Hart." You corrected, coming closer and placing a tired hand on his shoulder. It was only here that you realized he wore nothing but a white t-shirt, the rest of his super-apparel tied around his waist, red cargo pants and combat boots still intact. Pretty on point symbolism for the moment, if anyone asked you...

"You... are Henry Hart. You're my boyfriend with a lot on your plate, and I know that it's just not fair of me to expect all of your time, which is why I don't. But no matter what, I do love you for giving me whatever you can, so it's very much okay."

You didn't have to be able to see his face clearly to know he was probably just as red as he was in your videos from earlier, his bashful smile going hidden when he let his head drop for just a moment.

"I love you, too." A pause before he quickly debunked your reassurance with some of his own. "And it's not okay, which is why I got you these..."

And suddenly, you realized why he had kept his hands hidden behind him like some wise old man, revealing to you a bouquet of flowers of all kinds. An almost randomized assortment that'd be pretty hard to find in any flower shop. At any shop at all, given...

"Oh my gosh, they're so pretty! It's like, midnight, though, where did you get these?" You squealed quietly, doing your best not to wake up any family in the house while you took the flowers into your hands and admired them the best you could under the moon's light.

"Uhh..."

Henry really didn't know how to answer that, scratching the back of his neck in remembrance of his horrid sneak attempt through his neighbor's backyard.

"I stole 'em." Was what came out way too nonchalantly, leaving you to choke on air while your eyes widened.

"What...?! Henry-!"

"I'm kidding, I didn't steal-... Well... I mean, technically, yes, but not in the way that you're thinking."

"I don't know what I'm thinking...!" You burst through confused laughter. "My boyfriend just told me he stole flowers for me. From where?!"

His eyes shifted from you, to the side, and then back again, folding at the sight of your expecting face looking back up at him.

"My neighbor..." His voice strained quietly, and you could all but sigh and shake your head, letting your nose bury itself back into the makeshift bouquet of freshly stolen flowers.

"That old lady is gonna strangle you with her bare, wrinkly hands."

Henry snorted, sparing you his impulsive thought of the fact she'd have to know it was and catch him first, and instead, fake pain at your light slaps to his chest.

"You're supposed to be a superhero, not a midnight theif...!"

"Hey, c'mon..." He cooed, tugging you closer and smiling when you did begrudgingly move forward towards him.

"...You know I'd go rogue for you any time."

"Y'know, I'm starting to miss Kid Danger." You quipped with a smirk. "At least he'd know better than to pluck flowers from someone's garden."

"Mmm. Fair." He nodded before obnoxiously pushing his forehead up against yours. "But does he kiss you the same way I do?"

"Mmm-"

And before you could pretend to debate the matter, he had done just that, forever gentle with you as he placed his lips on yours and stole any thoughts, stability in your legs, and air in your lungs you had left.

Well, maybe not steal. You'd let him have that any time, the same way he'd bring you flowers at midnight to make up for any of his absences.

Just the thought had you breaking the kiss with another giggle, your turn to grow shy at the attention before you were finally able to fully heal the last little remnants of that ache in your chest.

"You should stay."

You threw it out as a casual suggestion even though you were practically screaming inside for him to say yes. And of course, you got your wish, because what wouldn't he do for you?

"I will."

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭, 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐨🤭...

but seriously, I really hope you enjoyed, this was super fun and cute for me to write. got me wishing he was under my tree for xmas😔✋🏽.

also, I apologize for this taking as long as it did, there's reasons I have that will be later explained in a separate post/announcement, so ya :'D.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 :

@junknstufff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :

3,877

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 :

none :(

[darlingdaisyfarm]

texting Stan and Ford headcanons

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Stan Pines

✧ Stan is the kinda guy who thinks emojis are a scam, but somehow, he figured out how to use the "thumbs up" and "money bag" emoji. so, expect a lot of those in your chats.

✧ his text tone is rough, a little misspelled, typed like he's yelling even when he isn’t. Half of his texts are in all caps, and he absolutely does not care about grammar. but he gets the point across, always.

✧ you’re getting messages at 3 am about some ‘brilliant’ scheme to make a quick buck. he’ll send, “LISTEN, doll, what if we made... GIANT… glitter-filled eggs for easter? Tourists'll go NUTS." you reply, half-asleep, with “Stan, ily but go to bed." and all you get back is a “🤬 YOU GOTTA THINK BIGGER!”

✧ Stan sends those weird chain messages he swears are from some “hotshot businessman” that’ll make you rich in a week. and when you don’t respond immediately, you get a: “Fine, Miss Doubtful, see you when I’m rolling in gold.”

✧ there are whole days where he just floods your phone with random, blurry photos of some new Mystery Shack "artifact" he found. It’s usually junk he picked up at a garage sale, like a “haunted” ashtray or some knock-off painting that’s “probably ancient.”

✧ If he’s feeling sappy (and tipsy): you might get a rare “thinking bout you, sweet thing” at 2 am. but if you try to call him on it the next day, he’ll just be like “Didn’t say that. You’re makin’ stuff up.”

✧ when he’s really riled up about something, though? then his messages are just. . . a stream of caps-lock curses, mixed with misspelled attempts to describe whatever nonsense he just got himself into. you just sit back and let him rant; he’ll cool off eventually.

✧ and the voice messages are something else. they sound like he’s talking through a fan half the time. one minute, he’s rambling about how tourists are “the dumbest suckers on the planet” and the next, he’s ranting about how “bigfoot definitely broke into the shack last night!"

types of messages Stan texts: 

"So… whatcha wearin’? 😏"

“Hey doll, I just found a penny on the ground! Maybe today’s my lucky day… hint hint ;)"

"I’d say somethin’ romantic, but I think my brain just shorted out. You’re a little too cute for a guy like me."

"Just tried that new café downtown. Ordered coffee… tastes like they filtered it through someone’s laundry. You’d hate it. Wanna come mock it with me?"

"Not gonna lie, I miss that face of yours. So what’re we doin’ about it, huh?"

“Again missin’ that cute little smile of yours… maybe you could send me a pic to remind me?”

"Wanna help me scam the tourists today? I’ll split the loot with ya… maybe ;)”

"You wouldn’t believe what I caught Ford muttering in his sleep. Man’s like a walking encyclopedia, even when he’s unconscious."

“Got any plans later? Thought maybe we could… y’know… not have plans together."

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Ford Pines 

✧ hehehehe he’s like an old-school emailer who’s just now getting the hang of messaging apps. texts in complete sentences, full punctuation, like he’s drafting a dissertation.

✧ He sends you whole paragraphs at random hours, talking about some discovery he’s made, like he’s reporting directly to NASA. you’re like, “Ford, it's just a weird-looking squirrel." and he's already typing another essay about its "possible interdimensional origins."

✧ once in a while, he’ll send you a message that says, “Are you awake?” at, like 3 am followed by a string of thoughtful yet completely bonkers hypotheses. you find it cute, though, his mind never stops, not even for a second.

✧ If he’s feeling bold, you might even get a “hypothetical” confession out of him: “Hypothetically, if one were to develop... strong emotional attachment to a certain person... how would one proceed?" You tease him about it the next day, and he gets flustered, “It was purely scientific curiosity."

✧ Ford isn’t big on emojis, but he likes the brain and alien ones, using them poetically. he’ll sign off texts with a single brain emoji, like it’s his version of a little goodbye wave.

✧ on really rare occasions, he’ll send a voice message. they’re always way too long, and it’s usually him whispering so he doesn’t wake Stan up. he goes on about cosmic rays or “gravity anomalies,” his voice dropping lower when he gets excited. you live for those moments

✧ and if he ever texts you a “good night,” you just know he’s been up thinking about it for hours, trying to figure out if it’s “appropriate.”

types of messages Ford texts: 

“It’s been approximately 3 hours, 12 minutes, and 23 seconds since our last conversation… not that I’m counting or anything. Just… miss you."

sends a meme about science nerds “Us. But mostly me.”

“My hands ache from writing… though perhaps if it were writing about you, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Do you think about me too, or am I the only one utterly ruined by this… whatever this is?”

“I’ve been thinking about that book you lent me... 🤔 It’s honestly so much more interesting than I expected, thank you for recommending it."

"I don’t know how to work this... But I managed to send a meme! It’s not the worst thing I’ve done, I suppose? 

“I did it. I fixed the telescope. Finally. Now we can actually look at the stars like we’ve talked about. :)"

"I hope you’re feeling okay today. I noticed you seemed a little stressed the other day. Don’t forget to take care of yourself. :) It’s important."

"If I could rearrange the periodic table, I’d put U and I together. :( Sorry, nerdy joke... :’D)”

ps - I CANT THEYRE SO CUTE BOTH I WANT TO SMASH THEM AGAINST THE WALL

lmao if someone wants, i can write some spicy types of chatting with them :)))

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

food likes and dislikes + why

Consider this part of the Twisted Wonderland food lore series, I guess? Part 1 and part 2 focus on compiling food culture and related world lore; I will keep adding to them as new information is released. This part expands on the reasons for why each character likes and dislikes the food that they do. Please note: THIS DOES NOT COVER ALL CHARACTERS, only the characters we have official profiles for! The staff do not have least favorite foods listed + other characters like Neige and Che'nya lack profiles, so they are not addressed here.

Additionally, the reasoning behind some likes/dislikes are speculation or implied rather than outright stated as canon. I will indicate when these instances crop up.

Riddle

Favorite: strawberry tarts

Riddle has been fascinated with strawberry tarts since he was a child, as he would see them in the window of the local cake shop. He lovingly describes the bright-red fruit on them as "[shining] at [him] like forbidden jewels", as his mother would liken the sugar content in sweets and pastries to poison.

He tastes his first strawberry tart after meeting Trey and Che'nya. Trey is the one who offers him a slice from his family's bakery. Riddle is entranced by its look and taste. "A bright-red strawberry tart on a white plate. To me, it shined more brightly than any gem could. That first bite was so sweet. It tasted like nothing I'd ever eaten before. With each bite, I became more entranced..."

SPECULATION: The implication, as I read it, is that strawberry tarts fulfill a desire he has long since had but has seldom acknowledged. They are also tied to the positive experience of the intimacy and the first friends Riddle ever made, as well as a symbol of his own agency.

He seems to regularly offer and eat cakes and other sweets at unbirthday parties, as they are a must-have at these events. Other foods he intakes typically adhere to the rules of the Queen of Hearts, even if he has different preferences (such as preferring honey to sugar cubes for his tea, and preferring milk tea over lemon tea).

Least Favorite: junk food

SPECULATION: While we aren't given an explicit reason for Riddle's stance on junk food, it's implied that his mother ingrained in him a sense of which foods and amounts are "right" and 'wrong" to have. He likely still takes her teachings to heart.

Riddle tried fast food for the first time at age 17 and declared that he doesn’t like it and won’t have it again. This supports the idea that he has avoided this kind of food for a long time—again, something instilled in him by his mother.

He tends to get the daily special at the NRC cafeteria not because he likes them but because it’s easier him to calorie count that way.

Trey

Favorite: candied violets

Trey started eating candied violets before he started elementary school. He was so impressed by the concept of edible flowers that he went around trying to eat flowers and weeds he found in the wild.

Trey states that he loves how the flower's aroma overtakes his senses and makes him feel as though he's lying in a bed of violets. He cites this as being the "real appeal" to him.

Trey also says that he gets bad cravings for candied violets and would even snack on his parents' stash (which they prepared for their bakery's cakes). This however did not stop Trey, so it led to his parents setting aside some candied violets specifically for him. In fact, they still send care packages to NRC which contain candied violets. Trey snacks on them on study breaks.

He suggests using candied violets as a sugar substitute. It changes the color of the milk, and he finds that interesting.

Trey also enjoys the NRC cafeteria’s hamburger steaks. He says they’re so good he could eat them every day.

Least Favorite: mustard

Che’nya and Trey played Russian Roulette with six cream puffs. Five had regular cream filling and one had mustard.

Trey had bad luck and ended up biting into the one cream puff with mustard inside. There was no water to wash down the flavor, and Che’nya was of no help because he was laughing too hard at his friend’s demise. Trey reports that he “seriously almost cried”. It is this bad experience that bred his dislike of mustard.

Cater

Favorite: spicy ramen

Cater says that a "capsaicin kick" from spicy food "lights a fire under [him] when [he's] feeling out of it" or feeling down in the dumps.

Additionally, ramen pics are "GREAT for [social media] engagement". He usually places a lot of importance on a dish's appearance when judging it.

SPECULATION: Our body interprets spiciness not as a flavor, but as a pain reaction. Knowing that Cater is secretly very gloomy and sad, he may eat spicy food as a way to just “feel something”.

Least Favorite: anything sweet

When Cater was 10 years old, his mother and two older sisters were into making sweets. Back then, Cater was actually excited for extra desserts. However, they continued to make more sweets every single day. It got to a point where Cater started to have a hard time eating them.

According to Cater, his sisters in particular made things worse. They would pile more sweets onto his plate and tell him there's plenty more where that came from. If Cater said he didn't want any, his sisters would give him puppy dog eyes and he would relent. This would ruin Cater's taste for anything even remotely sweet.

He loves visiting cafes, but the most photogenic items tend to be desserts. Cater has the dilemma where he will order something cute but then can't eat it because of his aversion to sweetness. (The problem is solved if he invites someone to come with to be his human garbage disposal.)

Trey is, so far, the only person who has been able to immediately sus out that Cater doesn't like sweets. Cater usually has to dance around this fact about himself and find roundabout ways to avoid eating sweets (such as suggesting to Trey that he show us UM to the first years so Cater can avoid tasting a sweet chestnut tart).

Ace

Favorite: cherry pie

Ace says cherries are his favorite fruit. There is no further explanation given for why cherry pies in particular are his favorite.

He prefers fresh fruit in his pies as opposed to the “canned stuff”. Ace finds the flavor to be a lot more robust in the former. He also likes his cherries "nice and tart".

SPECULATION: The meta reason for Ace's favorite food may be because the Drink Me potion from Alice in Wonderland is said to taste like "cherry tart, custard, pineapple, roast turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast". The "tart" was probably changed to "pie" to help differentiate Ace's favorite food from Riddle's favorite food (which also involves a red fruit in a crust).

Least Favorite: raw oysters

When he was a kid, Ace read a book that involved oysters. He can't stand raw oysters because they remind him of that story.

SPECULATION: This is likely a reference to the story of "The Walrus and the Carpenter", which involves a walrus tricking and eating sentient baby oysters in Disney's Alice in Wonderland. It probably traumatized kid!Ace xnsbdkwbiwcnks

Deuce

Favorite: anything with eggs

Deuce comes from a single parent household, so their budget is usually tight. Eggs, being a cheap staple food, was something his mom often prepared for him. They are also simple and versatile enough for even his mom and himself to learn how to cook a variety of ways.

Deuce remarks that he likes his omelets "extra fluffy". It's how he always orders it at the NRC cafeteria.

Least Favorite: pepper (ie the more bitter green ones; JP)/bell peppers (ie red/yellow ones EN)

No matter how small they're chopped, Deuce has never been able to eat (bell) peppers. He says the flavor and the smell are too overpowering for him.

SPECULATION: Pepper is a commonly disliked food among young children in Japan. It’s similar to how broccoli is disliked by children in the west. The implication may be that Deuce is still immature like a little kid that hates peppers.

Leona

Favorite: meat

The only reason Leona provides is pretty vague; he says he needs the protein so he can perform to the best of his abilities in magical shift/spelldrive.

Least Favorite: vegetables

He claims that if a carnivore is eating greens, then it's sick. Therefore, there is "no reason" for him to eat any. He's perfectly healthy!

SPECULATION: Given that Leona also refers to others as "herbivore" in a derogatory sense, it's possible that he views those who eat plants as weaker than him. He, with the DNA of a carnivore, is technically "above" them in the food chain and doesn't deign to "lower" himself to their status by eating vegetables. This implies that a lot of his tastes essentially boil down to "I'm a lion, lions don't eat vegetables (heavy sarcasm)."

Ruggie

Favorite: donuts

Ruggie's family struggled to put food on the table, so they couldn't afford birthday cakes. Instead, Granny Bucchi would make simple donuts for him. He loves the warm and fluffy insides and crispy outsides.

Once Ruggie started earning income through various part-time jobs, they could afford ingredients to make fancier donuts with different toppings such as chocolate dip and almonds. Even though Ruggie can now afford to get himself a birthday cake, he still craves his grandma's homemade donuts.

Least Favorite: anything rotten

When Ruggie was younger, he got a nasty stomachache from eating old bone-in steak. He learned from that experience that if food rots, it's ruined and he can't shouldn't eat it for his health and safety.

He will basically eat anything as long as it isn't rotten though. This includes bones, as hyenas have strong jaws and are able to munch on them.

Jack

Favorite: pear compote

The pear is Jack's preferred fruit. He specifically likes compote because it is sweet. Jack says that a good compote will help melt exhaustion and restore lost carbohydrates after a workout.

Least Favorite: green onions

While Jack does not comment on green onions in particular, it is implied that he does not care for them because they are smelly. He comments that the cafeteria's soup has too many onions in it and that it messes with his sense of smell. Being a wolf beastman, his senses are heightened, so he is sensitive to smells.

Azul

Favorite: fried chicken (EN)/kaarage (JP)

No special reason is given in-game. Azul enjoys fried chicken but does not allow himself to eat it often as he is aware of how unhealthy it is.

He has tried many recipe substitutions to make his favorite food healthier for his consumption, but the flavor and texture always fall short of the real thing. Some methods he has already tried include using cooking methods other than deep-frying and using soy beans instead of meat.

SPECULATION: It can be inferred that fried chicken is a favorite of Azul's since childhood, and something that his mother served him in high amounts during celebrations. This may be led to his overweightness as a child, something which he holds a lot of lingering insecurities about.

Least Favorite: healthy foods (EN)/nutritionally balanced meals (JP)

Azul recalls a period of his life when he would eat mostly health food since it is an easy way to count calories. After a while, he began to dislike health food for this very reason.

Jade

Favorite: octopus carpaccio

No special reason is given in-game.

SPECULATION: The meta reason for this being Jade's favorite food is likely because moray eels (which the twins are) eat octopus. Carpaccio is a dish that is served raw, just like how real moral eats consume octopus.

Jade also enjoys tea; he brews his own blends using plants he collects while on hikes. He tends to do with same with mushrooms.

Least Favorite: conger eel

Jade says that he dislikes conger (saltwater) eels because "the texture simply does not live up to [his] tastes".

Floyd

Favorite: takoyaki

Floyd likes to put unusual stuff inside takoyaki instead of the typical octopus filling. It keeps him from getting bored. Fillings he has tried before include cheese, shrimp, sausage, oysters, tomato, broccoli, strawberries, whipped cream, chocolate, anchovies, potato salad, and konjac.

He gets a real kick out of seeing who can make the worst tasting takoyaki. No matter how bad the odd fillings taste, Floyd eats every last one. He doesn't want to get told off by Azul for wasting food.

He has plenty of practice flipping takoyaki in the pan, so it isn't difficult for him.

Least Favorite: shiitake mushrooms

Jade puts shiitake mushrooms in "pretty much anything". Because of this, just seeing a shiitake mushroom pisses Floyd off.

Kalim

Favorite: coconut juice

There is no clear in-game reason provided. However, Kalim likes coconut juice to the point where it's not unusual for him to order 100 coconuts from a fruit vendor in Silk City.

SPECULATION: Aside from being a refreshing beverage, coconut juice has historically been used to reverse the effects of poisons and drug overdoses in both India and Africa. We know that Kalim has had multiple attempts on his life, including intentional poisoning of his food, so this may be why Kalim has acquired a taste for coconut juice.

Least Favorite: curry

Kalim's dislike of curry originates from an incident in which Jamil, his dedicated food tester, fell into a two week-long coma after tasting poisoned curry intended for Kalim. He has not been able to stomach curry since.

Jamil

Favorite: curry

Despite going through a traumatic experience with curry, it remains Jamil's favorite food. It hasn't really deterred him.

He usually cooks his own food rather than eating in the cafeteria. It’s just easier for him since he is already typically cooking food for Kalim anyway.

SPECULATION: Jamil expresses interest in sampling curries from all over Twisted Wonderland, as it is different in every country. Therefore, curry may be a dish that Jamil sees as "international" and sates his yet-to-be-achieved desire of being free to travel and see the world.

Least Favorite: dates

Jamil used to love eating dates as a child. One day, the dates he had bought from a fruit stall had a bug on them. He freaked out and set off a spell, setting the fruit stall on fire. Jamil has not been able to eat dates since finding that bug on them.

Vil

Favorite: homemade smoothies

Vil likes the customizability of homemade smoothies, especially seeing as he is a model and actor who has to watch his figure. Green smoothies are particularly appealing since they can be chock-full of nutritious fruits and vegetables. It's also easy to alter the flavor to your liking.

Least Favorite: mayonnaise

Vil used to have mayonnaise on his salad when he was younger. This was done almost on a daily basis. He got three pimples from this diet, which were painful and not photogenic for a child star. Vil eventually learned that mayonnaise "doesn't agree with [his] skin". Now he usually takes his salads with salt, olive oil, or vinegar.

He doesn't mind the flavor or the texture of mayonnaise. If he is given mayo in a meal, he won't let it go to waste. He just does not enjoy eating it because of the pimple trauma.

Rook

Favorite: liver pâté

Rook describes it as "a delicacy" that is "both rustic AND refined at the same time". He says he was first captivated by its smooth and creamy texture that melts on your tongue. Rook attributes the appeal of the dish as being dependent on its freshness, so he enjoys it only on rare occasions.

Least Favorite: garlic

He calls his dislike of garlic a "professional aversion". Garlic is smelly and tends to linger after consumption, so Rook worries that the aroma will alert others (whether wild animals or other people) to his presence. He wants to be able to blend in with his surroundings!

Epel

Favorite: yakiniku (JP)/grilled meats (EN), macarons

Epel loves grilled meats because he has fond memories of it from Harveston. His family and neighbors would arrange gatherings where they take big hunks of meat and grill them on a charcoal fire. He admits that it's not fancy, but it makes for a "mighty fine meal". Epel also loves the fresh veggies that you eat with the meat; they have a natural sweetness to them. The veggies can be eaten straight off the grill without sauce and still be perfectly tasty.

Epel says he likes macarons "more" than even grilled meats, but this information is pretty dubious since we learn in his Ceremonial Robes vignettes that Vil seems to have instructed him to make this claim. It's sliiightly confusing because Azul seems to believe Epel does like macarons and questions if his sources were wrong when Epel looks surprised that he knows that (which seems to contradict the idea that Vil told him to lie about his tastes).

When asked why he likes macarons, Epel responds with, "They're... cute. And sweet! And they come in lots of different flavors. They're not very filling, but still." He makes a similar comment about macarons not being very filling in Glorious Masquerade.

Least Favorite: nashi pear (JP)/apple pear (EN)

Epel says that while the flavor of nashi pears is not bad, he dislikes them because "they're jist pretendin' ta look like apples"! Indeed, if you google "nashi pear", you'll see that they visually resemble apples.

In Port Fest, he and Jack get into an argument over what would be a better topping: apples or pears?

Idia

Favorite: sweets (ie candies; JP)/snacks (EN)

Idia says that he likes snack foods and candies because they're easy to eat while gaming. He particularly likes brightly colored candies like gummy worms.

He also says that he loves DIY candy kits, where you can make your own cute little sweet treats using water and powder packets. "It turns snack time into a game! It's easy to get totally absorbed, too." Idia likes the idea of being able to change the color and shape of the snacks himself. He insists (unprompted) that these DIY candy kits are NOT just for kids.

Idia mainly eats junk food in general. This causes his peers to worry about his health.

SPECULATION: This is just a funny thought I had while reading Idia's dialogue, but I wonder if he would also pull out the L (Death Note) style explanation of "I'm a genius, so I use a lot of brain power! So the logic follows that I should eat a lot of carbohydrates/sugar to refuel."

Least Favorite: raw fish

Idia dislikes raw fish because "it stinks, it's lukewarm, it's all slimy and clingy and sticky..."

Another large part of why Idia dislikes dish is because "real" food like that requires proper tableware to eat. He thinks this just adds "pointless busywork" to meals (and has a similar attitude when it comes to cooking). "Who cares how you get nutrients, as long as you get them? Just eat an energy bar with vitamins and minerals! Bam, EZ."

Ortho

Favorite: nothing

Least Favorite: nothing

Ortho does not require nutrients to live, being that he is a technomantic humanoid. He is, however, capable of taking pictures of food and analyzing ingredient makeup.

Idia has made an Oral-Energy-Intake Gear, which allows Ortho to eat food like everyone else. It's not clear what happens to the food Ortho eats though.

Malleus

Favorite: ice-cream

Malleus likes frozen desserts! When he breathes fire, the inside of his mouth gets very hot. Eating something cold like ice-cream helps to cool the temperature of his mouth--and this temperature contrast helps to enhance the flavor of the ice-cream.

Malleus shares an instance when he had frozen a castle and some servants in a tantrum; Lilia was able to salvage the situation by using his magearm and flavored syrups to make shaved ice, which he shared with everyone. He then used this opportunity to teach Malleus to use his powers wisely. This isn’t ice-cream, but it’s still another positive memory Malleus has related to cold desserts.

He likes to try different varieties of frozen treats and compare their flavors and appearances. Malleus doesn't seem to understand all the different nuances though. For example, he has a popsicle stick that declared that he had won something, but didn't know he was supposed to claim a prize. He does, however, understand that it is highly valuable and has it stored somewhere. He plans on bringing it home to Briar Valley when he graduated.

Least Favorite: whole/full-sized cakes

He doesn't have anything against sweets, but rather directs his ire at excess. Malleus never has people to share cakes with, so he ends up trying to eat the whole thing by himself on special occasions. He never finishes them in a single sitting and says they give him heartburn.

Malleus says he may see whole cakes in a better light once he has company to split them with.

Lilia

Favorite: tomato juice

There's not a lot in the way of the tomato juice lore. The best we've got is Lilia remarking that he has recently been into drinking and comparing different tomato juices. He claims the tastes and textures can be very different.

Lilia is also fond of berry juice, which he says is a specialty of Briar Valley. He encourages the guests at his farewell party to indulge in it.

SPECULATION: Some fans headcanon that Lilia likes drinking tomato juice because it resembles blood, and Lilia behaves in very bat-like ways. This could be the specialized traits of his species of fae.

My personal speculation is maybe the reasoning is similar to what is typically given for Jamil's love of curry; Lilia is someone who is worldly and well-traveled, so maybe he just likes tasting the local produce in an easy-to-go-down way.

Least Favorite: marshmallows

Lilia does not like the taste. Additionally, he thinks it's boring that, despite how bulky they are, they disappear as soon as you put them into your mouth. He feels like he's eating air!

Silver

Favorite: mushroom risotto

Silver says that risotto was the first dish he ever cooked himself. He likes the simplicity of it.

SPECULATION: Silver may have a preference for mushroom risotto because it includes an ingredient that is easily foraged in the forest (well, granted you can tell which are edible). Recall that he spent most of his days there and had to take care of himself for unspecified stretches of time when Lilia was off on his travels. Simplicity and ease of access was a big deciding factor in what Silver prepared for himself.

Least Favorite: Lilia’s cooking

… Does this even NEED an explanation? We all know how bad Lilia’s cooking is, and poor Silver somehow grew up on it 😭

What is sort of sweet is that Silver tries to convince himself to get over the poor quality of Lilia’s food by saying that what matters the most is sharing that time with loved ones.

Sebek

Favorite: salmon carpaccio

Sebek has a memory of going fishing at the lake by his grandfather's house with his older brother and sister. His siblings helped Sebek pull a large salmon out and then prepared carpaccio from it to serve for dinner. He loved seeing how delighted his parents and grandpa were to see it at the table. His grandpa even smiled, an occurrence which Sebek notes is rare. Now when he has salmon carpaccio, it reminds him of home.

Sebek says he could have salmon carpaccio for three meals a day and still never get tired of it. Keep in mind that Sebek also has a large appetite (claiming that eating three helpings for one meal is eating light), so that's a LOT of salmon carpaccio.

He denounces the cafeteria bread, deeming it not filling enough. He does the same of nuts and berries, although he admits they are nutrient dense. Sebek would prefer to have meat.

Least Favorite: black coffee

He cannot so much as tolerate a mouthful of "that muck" because of its bitterness. Indeed, we see how poorly he takes down black coffee when he mixes his order and Malleus's up in Glorious Masquerade.

Sebek is resentful that Silver can drink many cups of black coffee (to keep awake) and that his fellow knight shares a freshly brewed pot with their liege. "IT REALLY GRINDS. MY GEARS."

People have advised Sebek to sweeten his coffee with cream or sugar. He adamantly refuses to do this, since he believes that's something only children would do. "It's mortifying!" Furthermore, Sebek hates the thought of being the "odd one out" taking his coffee differently. "I refuse to let Silver outshine me in a matter so trivial!"

Sebek has been working tirelessly to train himself to tolerate coffee, since he wants to be able to share the same experience with Malleus. Now he is able to take one splash of coffee in his milk.

It should also be noted that Sebek used to dislike vegetables that were very bitter, so it seems that he has an aversion to bitterness in general. He has conquered bitter vegetables and is smug about surpassing that challenge.

He is able to stomach food that tastes bad if he is told it is good for him/training. For example, Lilia has suggested eating red meat, fermented beans, and yogurt as a workout meal, which Sebek happily consumes.

SPECULATION: ... This gives the vibes of a child who is still immature so they hate taking down bitter things. I guess it suits Sebek's "I wanna grow up fast!" behavior.

Grim

Favorite: canned tuna

... Look at him. Is he not peak cat? 🤡

SPECULATION: I'd imagine that Grim developed a taste for canned tuna in part because that's most of what he eats on Ramshackle's measly budget. They likely cannot afford fresh fish or other extravagant meals.

Least Favorite: nothing

LISTEN. Grim literally eats ROCKS. Plus, he literally snatches others' food and is eager to try foods and started his own club that revolves around food!! I don't think there's anything he won't consider shoving into his mouth.

Crowley

Favorite: wild game

Crowley describes himself as an avid connoisseur of meat and will eat any meat: beef, pork, chicken, and wild game (also called gibier). He encourages the other staff members to sample new meats when they can.

He claims to "prefer treats with subtler flavors rather than overpowering ones."

Crowley also appears to like mangos. He was excited to try the mango juice of the southern country that he vacationed to in book 4. Crowley also brought back mango souvenirs for the staff, including a sweet and sour mango tea for Trein. He reminisces about the sweet mangos he enjoyed and the sunny beach he was on back then. Crowley likes black tea as well!

SPECULATION: Crowley probably likes wild game because he is twisted from a crow or a raven of some kind. Those birds are known to scavenge the meat of various dead animals (carrion).

Least Favorite: unknown

While we don’t have a confirmation for what Crowley’s least favorite food is, he doesn’t seem to like spicy foods—or, at least, he does not tolerate spice well. He complains about the tomato stew at the cafeteria causing him to sweat and cry at the same time. Crowley is also hesitant to sample Scarabian cuisine since he has heard that their food is liberally spiced.

Crewel

Favorite: raisin butter

Crewel says that raisin butter pairs well with adult beverages. He finds the aftertaste of raisin butter excellent and enjoys its appearance too--its spotted look reminds him of dalmatians.

SPECULATION: It’s notable that raisins, which are in Crewel’s favorite food, are deadly to dogs. This is ironic, because we know that Crewel is an avid lover of canines—but the character he is twisted from, Cruella de Vil, loathes dogs and is rumored to skin them for fur coats.

Crewel indicates that he enjoys tea; he brews his own blends and frequents a specialty coffee stall in the Foothill Town for its tea. He has known the owner since he was a student and pals around with him.

He also says he likes meat pies, but tries to keep portion control in mind.

Least Favorite: unknown

Sam

Favorite: chicken gumbo

SPECULATION: As far as I'm aware (and believe me, I looked everywhere I could), there's no given in-game explanation for why this is Sam's favorite. The best I've got is that chicken gumbo is a regional dish from New Orleans, the region from which The Princess and the Frog is inspired by.

Least Favorite: unknown

Trein

Favorite: vichyssoise

Trein finds the texture of the vichyssoise served by the NRC cafeteria smooth and pleasant. The students don't have the same appreciation for it; Trein says that he is the only one that ever orders the dish.

SPECULATION: Like Sam, Trein is not provided with a clear reason why he favors vichyssoise. But!! If we think about the composition of the dish, it's made with very cheap and accessible ingredients--even a peasant could afford them. Vichyssoise, then, could be representative of the story of Cinderella, where a kind-hearted girl's beauty was able to shine even when she was covered in cinders. The beauty of even simple vegetables is able to shine in vichyssoise!

He tries to go for foods and portions that won't weigh his stomach down.

Least Favorite: unknown

Vargas

Favorite: raw eggs

Vargas reports eating large amounts of raw eggs (roughly 60 for a single meal). He was told by the cafeteria ghosts that it would be troublesome if he ate so many of their eggs every time he dines there, so he has since started to bring his own eggs.

Sam tries to avoid stocking perishables, but the one exception is eggs. That's because Vargas always buys his entire stock.

SPECULATION: A meta reason for why Vargas eats an absurd amount of raw eggs is that this is a clear reference to Gaston from Beauty and the Beast. In his villain song, Gaston says he eats 5 dozen eggs, which is exactly 60--the same amount that Vargas eats. He needs a lot of protein to maintain his muscles!

Least Favorite: unknown

Rollo

Favorite: grapes

Rollo eats the same lunch 365 days a year, and prefers to take it in an area away from others. (Presumably, he does the same with his other meals.) This lunch consists of 2 croissants, a cup of café au lait (coffee with milk), and exactly 16 grapes.

He says that, with a strict routine like this, he can forgo unnecessary desires. Rollo finds it refreshing and recommends that others try it. The exception seems to be special occasions; he says he has an extra croissant on those days.

SPECULATION: No canon reason is given for why Rollo loves grapes (many fans actually thought croissants were his favorite before his SSR came out). What I believe is that Rollo likes grapes because they're easy to count and limit one's consumption of (because of how small they are). It fits perfectly into his stringent life.

Least Favorite: savarin

SPECULATION: Again, no canon reason is given. If I had to speculate based on what I know of him and how he takes his meals, then... I'd wager he doesn't like savarin because of how overly indulgent it is. It's a ring-shaped cake soaked in flavored syrup and then topped with cream and various fruits. For someone who regularly has bread and one type of fruit (grapes) for his meals, savarin is basically a sin.

Fellow

Favorite: apples

SPECULATION: This may be a reference to his character inspiration, Honest John. In the scene where he meets Pinocchio, he steals the apple Pinocchio is carrying and eats it. Notably, Playful Land also offers apple-flavored items.

Least Favorite: potatoes

SPECULATION: Potatoes are a very starchy (and thus filling) and easy to raise staple crop. I believe the implication here is that Fellow had to eat so many potatoes when he was low on other foods that he eventually became sick of them.

[rboooks]

DC X DP fic: Legal Compensation

Bruce Wayne doesn't know what sick monster would think it is funny to ruin Jason's grave, but when an alert arrives at the cave, he's flying towards the cemetery intending to find out.

And teach them some respect.

Of course, he knows Jason's not in there- not after his son returned with more hate and rage than a person- but it was still his last resting place.

He barely acknowledges Tim and Damian pulling up beside the Batmobile, each on their own bike while Dick, Steph, and Cass fly above him. They all got the alert. None of them are happy.

When they arrive, it's to see a teenager happily whistling as he shovels away layers of dirt. The stranger is in a white and black hoodie, a neon green ghost crossing from the front to the back, and his white hair with glowing green eyes lets them know it's not a human.

Or if it is, then not an average human. Meta, based on how he picks up way more dirt than he should be able to lift with his glowing green shovel.

They also see Jason get there first, his eyes glowing in Pit Rage and .points a gun to the back of the teenager's head. Bruce opens his mouth to shout, Damian manages to throw a ninja star, but they are far too late.

Jason pulls the trigger. A large bang is heard across the cemetery. The teenager drops into the deep hole he is making.

The family can only watch as the Pit Rage disappears from Jason's mind, and horror creeps onto his face as he realizes what he has done. It's too late now, though. The child is dead.

Bruce feels sick to his stomach- and then The teenager stands up, his head reforming in terrible familiar green liquid. The family forms a protective circle around a frozen Jason as the teenager turns around to look at them with Lazarus' green eyes and smiles.

Smiles at Jason with far too bright eyes. "I found you! I didn't realize you already left your grave, but that makes things easier. Jason Peter Todd, yes?"

"Who are you?" Bruce demands, stepping before his second oldest.

The white hair boy's smile becomes wider- if that's possible. "I'm Phantom. I'm working on behalf of the Ghost King."

Damian hisses, "What does the most powerful being in the multiverse want with Todd?"

"Baby Bat?" Dick asks without really asking.

"The Ghost King is the ruler of the Infinite Realms. The place where grandfather harvests the Lazarus Pit."

That's not good.

The teenager laughs. "The very same. He wants me to offer Legal Compensation to Mr. Todd."

"Legal Compensation? For what?" Tim asks this time.

"The glitch. See, Mr.Todd wasn't supposed to die- he was supposed to break the door and crawl to safety while the bomb jammed. At the same time, the Master of Time was preoccupied with another dimension saving the lives of six very important people to the Ghost King from a junk food explosion. Because of that, he was not there to control time correctly, creating a glitch in this universe's time flow. It speeded up certain areas, in your case, the location of the bomb's jam, making it explode earlier than it should have. He corrected it by bringing you back, but you were in a grave by that point. The Master of Time realized the grave injustice this was, so he sent me as legal Compensation."

That.... was a lot.

"How are you legal compensation?" Jason growls.

"Well, those people were just as important to me as the Ghost King. Since you lost your life due to the incident, I will give you my natural life here as a human for you to use." The teenager's form shifts after an ample bright light, and suddenly they are looking at a perfectly black hair blue eye average looking human who smiles happily at them. "Ta-da! So what do you want me to do first, Master Todd?"

"No." Jason hisses, looking angrier than he's ever looked before. Bruce can't say he doesn't feel the same way. "No, the Master of Time does not get to kill me. Go oopsie-daisy and then send me a fucking slave as an apology!"

"Not a slave- more of a- ugh Bulter!" The teenager argues, trying to crawl out of the hole and falling down, into a heap as he oversteps. "Wow, being a full human is going to get some getting use to."

"No!" Jason yells, turns around, and walks away.

"Wait! Wait! Master Todd, wait for me!" The teenager calls desperately, but Jason disappears into the shadows of Gotham without a backward glance. The boy slides into the mudd, voice muffled as he screams.

Steph takes pity on him offering her hand to help him out of the hole. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Phantom." The teenager says with a grateful smile taking the hand and climbing out. He gives the rest of the family an awkward smile "Danny Phantom"

Bruce ends up with another son by the following day. Jason ends up with a restless wanna-be butler who follows him everywhere, trying to serve him. The fact he cure his Pit Madness didn't seem to even register with him.

Jason wants Danny to leave him alone and quit the "I must spend the rest of my human life providing for your every whim". It's getting creepy.

[dev1lm4n]

favors

pairing: simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader

summary: ghost is curious on how far he could push around the pliant private; the kinds of things he could ask for and all the perverted favors he could earn, including stuffing you full of your silly little pen.

warnings: nsfw! sorta power imbalance (ghost is a l.t and you're a private), ghost is mean :(, uses of whore, unprotected piv, inappropriate use of a pen, semi-public, doing it in an evidence room lol, terrible accent, getting caught

notes: reblogs n comments appreciated! i also do commissions for $10 / 1k words on cod/tlou/aot/haikyuu n many more. msg me :)

“So yer telling me,” Johnny paused, vulgar gargles of cheap booze echoed around the buzzing pub. He had to take a minute or two to relinquish the revolting burn that’s paving a path right down his trachea and into his junk of a stomach. 

Ghost shouldn’t even be having booze, more so the kind they serve in the dirtiest street of London (the one that’s definitely infested with rat droppings and a random fella’s piss), but here he was, advocating for his friend’s ideas. 

The masked man shrunk back against the booth’s shiny red seat. His hips jutted forward, beer comfortably propped up on his thigh. 

“This lass will literally do anything you ask for?"

Ghost sighed.

It took him a beat too long to answer Johnny’s inquiry. 

He’s getting impatient, rightfully so. Unless it’s playful jeering or stern commanding procedure, Ghost hasn’t exactly spoken a word that he’d deem interesting after the last mission. 

He’s just been quiet underneath the skull-face attire. Tired, perhaps. But Johnny truly feared that he’d finally end up as a shell of a person. A suit of skin, muscle, and bones. The lights are on but no one’s home kind of thing. 

Ghost shifted in his seat. He leaned forward tentatively, deep in thought Johnny suspected. His hulking mass of muscles further emphasized by the tacky shine of multicolored lights.

“Yeah.”

“Fuckin’ hell, that’s amazing!”

“Yeah?”

His eyebrows knitted underneath his balaclava.

“‘course. You got yourself a fan, L.T.”

A fan. A fan. A fan?

Ghost could laugh at the premise. 

At the thought that someone had the audacity to think of him as someone worth that kind of attention. He had never thought of it in that manner, couldn’t bring himself to at least, but it’s still as far-fetched now than it was the first time he considered it. It’s absurd. 

Ghost propped his elbows up on the bar’s table. A sticky substance - most likely some sort of spilled milkshake or a very sweet Cosmopolitan - instantly pooled his sleeves, but he had more important things to dwell on. The idea that you, a simple girl-next-door private that he met by accident, adores and devotes yourself to him to the point of no return. What kind of fuckery is that?

“‘m not someone to fan over, Johnny. You know that fair and square.”

“You have a point there, L.T.”

Johnny huffed out a pained chuckle. His stomach must’ve been sending neon red blaring signs to quit drinking and hurry back to his woman back home, but he’s a persistent man, even stubborn some might say. 

Ghost was still deep in thought. He even managed to abandon the cold beer he'd ordered a couple minutes back, the condensation making a very clear point as it dribbled down his gloved palm.

He’s trying to acquire every last bit of information he has of you. Every detail, every moment that might help him deduce this extremely serious problem. 

What did your hair look like? When’s the first time he noticed the repeating tendencies? It might not result in his ultimate death, sure, but it’d surely wound him insane. Why would someone even be a fan of a socially-resigned man?

Johnny cleared his throat. Ghost’s taking too long and he’s made that clear.

“Where d’you even meet the lass?”

“’m not sure…” he trailed off.

Johnny offered him an odd look, before another laugh erupted from his booze-scented cavern. 

Ghost looked away, but was pulled back in by the comfortable arm (way too comfortable if he had a say in it) slung across his shoulder. His caramel eyes came around to his partner’s, as if waiting for him to spare him a piece of his mind. 

“You’re one cruel man, sir.”

“‘m not. Just never thought of it,” he tried. “Didn’t have the time to.”

“Come on. Bet you could get something outta that thick skull of yours,” Johnny jeered.

“I think, well, ..think she’s part of that task force. Y’know, the one that was an extension of ours, in case things go to shite?” 

Johnny hummed. There was that one time, too long ago that he couldn’t even picture the faces clearly. They're more similar to blobs of beige and brown now, but he’d remember a lady if he came across one. “Oh yeah, yer right, there was one.”

“Had trouble mapping out the terrains so I asked the Captain,” Ghost continued on lightly, hoping Johnny could somehow connect the statement to where and how he’d meet the mysterious lady. 

“And so she came in handy,” Johnny cleverly added.

Ghost took a deep breath, the shape of his lips made a brief appearance through the thin fabric, frustration knitted in every inch of his appearance. “She’s smart, Johnny. Well, even that drunk man coulda been smarter than you,” he argued teasingly, but was quickly met with a brute hand down the back of his neck. 

“That’s fuckin’ mean, man,” Johnny cocked his head to the side defeatedly. “’m here tryna solve your love problems, but yer making fun of me.”

“Not ‘love’,” Ghost corrected. “But she’s so pliant, John. So.. obedient.” 

“And smart people aren’t obedient. Moreover, smart lasses.”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

Johnny took another swing of his foamy beer. A light trace of cheap booze made an appearance in the shape of a mustache right above his real bush. He looked like he’s truly using his head for a minute and it’s truly entertaining. Ghost would’ve chuckled, sneered, and made entertaining comments if it’s not for the fact that he’s equally as burdened. 

Come to think of it, you weren’t anything extraordinary. You weren’t a spectacular tank-shaped-human that’s won the recognition of every military general, neither were you superbly drop-dead gorgeous. You’re just this girl. 

This girl who didn’t have a blind adherence to his authority as a higher commanding officer; rather, you made it seem as if it was a conscious choice, a demonstration of your commitment to him. Your unassuming demeanor and lack of vanity blended right into the black-and-white nature of the military, but there was just something. 

Something particular that bothered him.

“What’d she do?”

“Asked her to gather intel from the last ten years,” he started. “Did it in two days.”

“That was well.. technically her job. Maybe she’s just terribly invested in it?” he offered.

“Asked her to get my boots washed-”

“Wait, what?”

“Boots. Washed. I had a sling on so I..”

“Don’t tell me she did it,” Johnny shrieked. “Your boots smell like horse shite.”

“She did.” Johnny looked at him in terror. His fucking jaw almost went unscrewed from the statement. “She’d switch schedules with me if things got out of hand. Oh, and she patched me up awhile back.”

“And you don’t know the lass’ name?”

“Fuckin’ hell, Johnny,” he grunted uneasily. “No.”

“Jesus Christ. What’dya even say when she finished patching you up?” he threw his hand up. “Thank you, random gal who I vaguely remember for cleaning up my boots and doing a shit load of things for me.”

“Well…”

“She’s in love with you. Christ’s sake. The wedding bells are ringing in my ears.”

“Too much, Johnny.”

“No, no, hear me out,” he tugged on the male’s collar, for dramatic purposes only of course, a classic of Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish. “I bet she’d do anything for you.”

“You’re fuckin drunk.”

“Maybe. But she fuckin adores you,” he continued on. “Bet she’d suck your lil willy if you asked.”

“Now you’re outta line, Johnny,” he scoffed, deciding his pal’s spitting all but the truth, maybe the piss-colored concoction finally fried his brain cells off. “And it’s definitely not little.”

Amidst all the naturally occurring hellish nature of the military (including and not limited to bitter black coffees, deafening morning roll-calls, and pungent blood), there existed an unconventional sanctuary for you. A safe haven-- special and reserved only for you. 

It’s not nearly as lovely as what home felt, but it was still something. 

The old evidence room, filled with bricks on bricks of aged papers along with neatly labeled boxes cluttered with God knows what. Classified artifacts, flickering lights; nobody wants anything to do with such a room and if they did, it’d probably be a direct order from their cigarette-smoking ripped captain. Or so you’d imagine. 

You’re not even close to being that level of importance. You’re closer to being a coffee-bearing, mess of an intern, instead of those in the laps of the General.

You didn’t mind. Not one bit.

The admin work is far more aligned with your goals than holding a hand grenade could ever be.

After quite some time, drowning in your own mind, earning paper cuts with every flip, and sipping that God awful black coffee, you’ve managed to turn every inch of the four by six room into your own twisted version of a highschool data wall. 

You’d argue that it’s a lot more effective than trying to do it in your team’s pristine glass wall, but truly it’s just a silly reason. A silly reason not to be humiliated and undermined by fellow colleagues who think that they’re above and beyond. 

You stood up. Observed. Crouched (in hopes that there’d simply be a miracle, but alas, futile). Then repeated the regime like clock work for what seems like forever.

That was until an interruption came along. 

A glitch in your picture-perfect routine, and it terrified you like hell. 

You stood in full attention. A forty-five degree angle between your toes, hips and shoulders level, chest puffed, and limbs stiff. Between the moment in which the heavy metal door swung open with ease and when it finally came to your attention who the intruder was, you thought of all the ways you could rationalize the mess you’ve corrected. You’d imagine having a thirty second period - or less - where you’d have the chance to save your ass from running toilet duty all week. 

But what came was far worse.

It’s that man. That Lieutenant, if we’re being prissy.

The one you had a crazy, borderline psychotic crush on. 

The one you did back flips and handstands for. And you didn’t know if it’s the thick helmet that's strapped to his head, the heavy eye black he rocked daily, or the skull-patterned balaclava, but he’s utterly indifferent to the treatment.

Enough of that, you decided.

“At ease.”

Your shoulder slouched back to its acquired form and like always, you’d allow him to stare you down like you’re some sort of farm animal.

“Apologies, Lieutenant,” you drew back a breath. “For the mess that is. I.. wasn’t expecting anyone to come by.”

You attempted to meet his gaze. Keyword, attempted.

His stern gaze, brown eyes framed by a fading ghost of eye black, made it hard to breathe. The air seemed to thicken - wine into blood - as if acknowledging the unspoken, blurry lines of tension. 

You, acutely aware of the rising tautness, attempted to challenge him ferociously, but the weight of his stare proved almost tangible. And despite it being heavily inappropriate, your clit pulsed in a foreign rhythm and your nipples pebbled with desire underneath the pure wrap of your uniform.

“Not my business,” his response fell flat. It’s like he’s trying to have you embarrass yourself.

“What’s your business then?”

It sounded a little rude, so you managed to add on a slurred line of ifyoudon’tmindmeaskingthatis to sweeten the deal.

He looked stunned for a bit, but then his gait laxed and you took the bait. You took a sharp intake of air through the gaps of your top and bottom row of teeth. Cold air seeped through, as hostile as the rumbling storm outside. 

The single bulb flickered ominously - was the Lieutenant powerful enough to control electricity with his terribly distant gaze?  

‘Ghost’ was his callname. That’s the only thing you know of him, aside from the fact that he’s a prominent member of TF 141 and that he has a god awful habit of tossing his duties to you. The kind of duties that won’t earn him a star or two.

“Do you need me to deep soak your boots again?”

His lithe lashes swept over his eyes, but once more, no response. It’s like you’re speaking to a wall. A damn persistent one.

“Or run names?”

Something. Anything would be better than nothing.

“Nothing like that.”

“No?”

He shook his head.

He stuffed his hand down the pocket of his tactical trousers, shoulder hunched forward, before he took a step forward. His boots, lathered in mud from a far away land, crushed the papers you’ve laid neatly. 

Your eyebrows - disobeying each and every one of your neurons - twisted in disdain. 

That was your work. Your hard work.

The Lieutenant inched closer, an estimate of a full foot ahead of you, towering with such an incredulous look. You challenged him with a similar gaze. Emotions naked, unveiling beneath a thin line of shameless and daring. A line of sweat began to form on top of your upper lip, a betrayal to the T. 

“You think you’d let me fuck you?”

“What?”

“You think you’d-”

“I.. I heard you the first time, L.T. Just a little bewildered I s’pose.”

Not even the wildest beast of Manchester’s pub would query such an upfront question. 

You swore that your physical state had forgotten that there’s an entire raging snowstorm outside base, because all you could feel was warmth. 

Warmth pumped through every inch of skin under the neat fold of your collar and the tight cuff around your forearm. Warmth made your palms pool with dubious desire. It enveloped you whole, suffocated you in a headlock. 

At his approach, you staggered back. It was as if your knees gave out thoroughly. You are clearly not an easy slag, but he’s making you look like one.

“Would you?”

He questioned with such.. reverence?

The Lieutenant’s large pointer finger, equal to the size of a French baguette, swept beneath your chin. A tease. Not a threat. Perhaps more of an invite.

“You could say no,” he offered. “Nothing’s gonna happen if you say no, ‘course.”

The question ‘why’ was on the tip of your tongue, before you retracted it entirely. It didn’t matter why, at least, not to him. You’ve heard about the practice. The military is cruel. Brutal. Stinky men, blood and puss, tasteless MREs; people need a getaway car, even for just a bit. 

The real question was if you’d let him.

Would you let him fuck you?

You nodded.

You’re not even sure if that’s your good conscience speaking. It’s just.. you gravitate towards him like a love-blind teenage groupie.

The ghost of a smile, barely there but obvious enough it protruded out the smooth surface of his balaclava,  momentarily diverted you. 

He looked so good. Even with every inch of his skin covered in some sort of cloth, he looked devilishly good. 

Before you could react, his strong arms were quick to wrap around your waist, swiftly turning you around. Surprised, you found yourself pushed gently against the edge of the table. It rattled side to side from the sudden impact, a rhythm that coddled you back into reality. 

His cold fingertips held your wrist together. A makeshift cuff of some sort. You glanced over your shoulder, met instantaneously by the Lieutenant’s icy expression, tinged with a hint of deviance.

“Would you truly let me?” he asked once more.

You nodded.

He looked displeased. Something’s missing, but you couldn’t pinpoint what exactly was bothering him. 

Ghost took another step forward. The faint presence of him crowded your backside. The tips of his fingers told a whole ‘nother story as it smoothed over your arm, mistakes and trauma from a faraway land. His warm breath flooded across the nape of your neck, controlled, yet imposing. You made an embarrassing noise when he tugged at your wrist, pulling you flush against his frontside. 

Way to go.

“Say it out loud, soldier,” he grunted. “Needa be sure.”

“Fuck me.”

Exasperation and determination, he consumed you whole like wildfire. 

You tried to weasel your way out of his grip, thinking it’d be smart to arch your back like a cat in heat to meet his crotch, but it’s no use. He’s as thick as concrete, not keen on meeting your demands. 

You whined. Desperate this time. 

He's tinkering on the edge of something big, something you know is going to be the best thing you agreed to. Ghost shushed you. A short click of his tongue against the roof of his mouth as his hands traveled along the circumference of your stomach. 

He made it an easy task to tick off those pesky, bothersome buttons. One by one. Every time making you wince in anticipation.

“Lieutenant!” you squealed aloud when he buried his head down the crook of your neck. The texture of his balaclava made your nerves jitter, rough yet the warmth his skin emitted set your own alight.

You gasped when he finally cupped your breasts. He kneaded the soft skin gently, the cold tips of his fingers twisting to pebble your nipples. From the back, you might've looked prim and proper. But from the front, your nipples stood out like the slanted tips of Everest. 

A stinging pleasure was quick to spread, especially down South, where your needy cunt gaped and squeezed tight around nothing. He's kind enough to leave the remnants of your uniform attached to your body. It's cold out and he was bright enough to know that this room was equipped with not even one heater. It's the higher-ups cutting costs like always.

“Why'd you let me fuck you, eh?” he whispered tauntingly. “You a whore?”

You shook your head no. Mind too frazzled to even get offended.

“Looks like a whore to me,” he chuckled slowly, only to bend you straight at the waist.

The side of your face came in contact with the cold surface in a loud thud. A protest tore out of your throat. 

He pawed at the belt buckle you're sporting, so impatient he might’ve torn the material in one go if it didn't unclasp right away. With a single pull, he had your tactical military-issued pants pooled pathetically around your ankle. 

It was quiet for a moment or two. You would've guessed that he was standing there, admiring your backside like some twisted connoisseur of some sort, or setting aside a list of what he would've liked to do. It's unbelievable that the five-minutes-ago-you agreed to something this bizarre. His large palms spread across the entirety of your ass, feeling up the smooth surface before a slap landed loud and clear.

“Ah!”

Something came into view on your right side, so you turned your head ever so slightly. And there it was. 

His thick fingers were wrapped around an item, the same one your mouth has been wrapped around so many times at frustrating moments. 

Your red pen, the same one that's ink has stained every inch of your fingers, was now offered in front of you. He wanted you to suck, you figured. You could've said no, sure, but there was a desire to fulfill his every wish, to be the good whore he's asking you to be. 

With much hesitation, you took the pen cautiously. It's not long before a good portion of it was lathered lewdly. And when he pulled the object away, a bead of saliva came attached with the warm end of your tongue.

“Look at you,” he cooed. “Couldn't even stand up for yourself, can you?”

“No.. puh- please.”

Ghost pulled you flush against his chest, so close that you felt the ridges of his uniform against your arched back. 

A possessive arm wrapped itself around your soft stomach. Your head was spinning-- his scent, musky and woody, had your mind twisting and bending in every manner possible. 

Finally, he spared you of all your suffering. The first nudge felt experimental. He rubbed the pen down your throbbing clit, running it up and down the sensitive bud. Then he slowly made his way further down in a voyage for your cunt. 

His calloused fingers paved the way down the slippery road. You found yourself bucking your hips against his warm hands, craving for just a touch. For more. Anything will do from that hulking figure of a man.

“God, just put it in already,” you grumbled, a notch above a whisper. Ghost didn’t like that one bit. He didn’t like your bratty tone and so, decided to punish you against it. 

The cold pen slipped into your wet cunt in one go. It might be thin, barely the size of a finger, but when you haven’t been fucked for ages, it felt incredibly intrusive. You’re almost sure your cunt had sealed itself back up after the long dry spell. 

Like a virgin, you let out a squeal. One that received a low, dry chuckle from the Lieutenant. 

He pulled it all out, pulling it up to your eye level, as if taunting you with how dripping wet the pen had become. It was lathered in your juices, thick and globby as it dripped down. You sucked on the end once more. This time unprompted, simply to show off how dirty you can also become.

This earned another one of his low grunts. Approval, you thought.

“You want it so bad, don’t you?” he whispered against your ear. Ghost guided the pen back to your entrance, letting it get sucked back by your needy cunt. He couldn’t watch, not with this position. But God did he want to. “Being all bratty won’t help, love.”

The squelching noise your cunt had made every time he thrust the pen back in was so.. dirty. Enough to also get him hot and bothered. 

You could feel him grow beneath you, feel it bulge against your lower half, though he didn’t seem to be making certain arrangements due to it. Ghost’s index finger and thumb moved rhythmically as it worked in tandem to touch all those sweet spots of yours. Undoubtedly, it’s working like a charm. 

Sweet nectars of his hard work started spilling out your cunt in thick translucent globs. It dribbled down your inner thigh, creating such a lewd display for Ghost to marvel. Teasingly, he thrusted upwards, hitting against those ridges deep in your cunt and making you lurch forward. Your nipples rippled in reaction, a twitching pleasure made you let out a needy moan.

“S-shit,” you cursed. Ghost continued to thrust the pen deeper, as deep as it could reach at least, and took it upon himself to twist and withdraw it every time you’ve gotten too loud with it. “Don’t-” you were interrupted once more. This time with the presence of his rough fingers, creating tight circles above your engorged clit. “Fuck!”

“You’ve got a dirty mouth on you, eh?” he whispered teasingly as he pressed clothed kisses against the nape of your neck. 

He was persistent in rubbing your clit, not changing the speed one bit even without you asking for it. It felt so nice. The way his textured fingers felt against your sensitive nub, the way he dragged your juices up your clit-- oh he’s driving you insane. 

Ghost angled his thrusts once more and with such expertise, he found that one cushy spot that made you tremble. Your knees felt weak and all you want is for him to fill you up properly. The cold pen rummaged against your insides and before you knew it, your walls had already started to flutter against the smooth plastic. “Small little cunt so desperate for me.”

“I- I can’t-” you gasped in between soft moans. “A-ah, ooh, I-” 

Ghost barked out a laugh at the way you can’t seem to finish any of your sentences. He was a sadist it seemed as he had no intentions of hearing you out. 

He drove the pen in harder, faster, determined to have you react more. To have you, the pretty little thing who’d run stupid errands for him, slather his fingers with your wetness. “Gonna cum on a pen, huh?” he teased, his voice tipping you over the edge. 

You guided your thighs forward, eager to have your clit caressed more. To have it stimulated by a masked Lieutenant you barely even know. 

“Sweet little thing..” he cooed as he watched you reach your high. “Drippin’ over a pen..”

“Cumming, I’m cumming!” you announced and he found it rather.. heart-warming in a way. 

You sounded so pliant, so dumb, and it’s what made blood rush instantly to his throbbing cock. You could feel him watching. 

His gleeful eyes ran over your convulsing body, the way your cunt clenched rhythmically against the office tool that’s lodged up into you. Ghost didn’t even get to pull out the pen before your cunt began spewing out what it’s been holding back. He’d just reprimand it with a few encouraging slap to your clit. 

The thin substance dribbled down the pen and onto his fingers, leaving a mess behind. A much-needed mess that is.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he cursed, holding your body upright as it seemed you had zero control over it.

The room felt warmer, much warmer that you couldn’t even feel a tinge of the cold air anymore; that everything else sounded like a ringing buzz and the only thing you could focus on was his rugged breath. 

It felt cathartic-- the moment, that is. Though, Ghost wasn’t one with plenty of time. 

Everything is timed when it comes to him, so he allowed you just a minute to breathe before he manhandled you back onto the table. He perched you up on top of crumpled papers, admiring the way your cunt pushed out the pen messily. Your favorite red pen clunked against the cold floor, leaving your aching cunt gaping with need. 

How truly pathetic it looked.

You looked at him with a stupid smile, as if he’s truly fucked your brains out. As if all you can think of was how his cock would force its way in, of how much thicker it’d be compared to the shabby pen.

“Ghost?” a timber voice crawled from the door. Before you could make your case, the door swung open confrontationally.

Though it terrified you, that you weren't upset by the fact that you’re caught. More so that you didn’t get to have your favorite Lieutenant’s seed drip from within you. Maybe.. maybe you were a whore like he’d suggested.

[xoxoladyaz]

It starts because the kids always demand food when they come over and Steve's wallet can't handle paying for pizza every five days, especially when both Mike and Lucas are in the midst of a serious growth spurt and can put one pizza away each.

It starts because Steve has had multiple conversations now with a frantic Claudia Henderson who is just so worried about Dustybun, he's not eating his fruit these days, all of this junk food just can't be good for the kids!

It starts because Steve only has a few things in the house when he hosts movie night and his parents aren't sending him grocery money until Sunday so he has to make due with what he has, and what does he have? Bread, peanut butter, bacon -

and a whole bunch of bananas.

(The kids would throw a fit if he gave them a banana to eat, of course. But if he mashes up the bananas and mixes them with a healthy amount of peanut butter and say that his mom stocked their pantry with some artisanal peanut butter from California or something, they'll inhale it like it's nobody's business.

And they did, and they loved it, and they started requesting his peanut butter and bacon sandwiches, like, daily.)

Eddie's finally over one Friday when Steve is making his specialty peanut butter and bacon (and banana) sandwiches. He makes a big deal of rolling his eyes and sighing loudly and saying how good can they possibly be?

Eddie eats three sandwiches and steals part of Max's off her plate.

Steve meets Wayne for the first time a few weeks later, and Wayne asks him about his "artisanal peanut butter." Steve tells him the secret ingredient, and Wayne Munson beams at him.

(I think he likes you better than he likes me, Eddie complains as he walks Steve out to his car.

Don't worry, Eds, Steve grins at him. You're my favorite Munson.

Their first kiss tastes like peanut butter and bacon and bananas.)

[alphajocklover]

My name is Hanson and I'm a short chubby Vietnamese nerd. I'm have always been a bit shy about my small size. Everything but my belly is small. I'm 5'4, have small size 8 feet and even my ummmmm.... junk is quite small. I was wondering how would eating the muskekteers would change me.

You weren’t sure what to expect when you ate the candy bar you had found. You had heard about these strange happenings where people would be transformed into different people by mysterious, seemingly magic candy bars that came from nowhere, but when you started looking into it online you didn’t expect for someone to send you one of the chocolate bars. You were curious about the transformative chocolate, and especially felt curious about what a Three Musketeers bar would do since the transformations seem to be connected to whatever brand of the chocolate the victims ate, but now that you had the bar you couldn’t help but hesitate. What if this caused some sort of weird transformation? Sure the guys you had seen online had all ended up hot, but those were with Mounds and Snickers! A Three Musketeers bar might do something crazy like turn you into an actual musketeer or something! Still, this was like one of your fantasies come to life. You knew it was dangerous… but you couldn’t resist. You split off a part of the chocolate bar, and took a bite.

It wasn’t like what you had read online. There was no sudden transformation, no rapid growth or shot of pleasure up your spine. One moment you were you… and the next you were a completely different person, in a completely different place. The first thing you noticed was the stench. The entire room you were in stunk of sweat and dried cum, so intensely you almost gagged. The second thing you noticed was the room itself. It was some sort of home gym inside of a garage, one filled with quality equipment and pictures of bodybuilders that were either there as inspiration or fap material. The final thing you noticed were the two vietnamese bodybuilding making out on a weight bench right in front of you, sloppily groping and slobbering all over each other as you watched and jerked off your suddenly much larger cock.

You were too shocked to make a sound, and too turned on to stop. As you stroked your studly footlong cock, you felt a smirk form on your face as one of the bodybuilders looked at you seductively. His voice was dull, dumb and deep,  but just hearing it filled you with a strange sense of joy and adoration.  “Are you just gonna watch bro? We agreed when we set up this gym that we’d always be either working out or fucking.” He said with a cocky, flirty grin.You felt a deep laugh escape your lips as you cockily strut over to the two jocks you now recognized as your workout partners and boyfriends, Hung and Huynh. You could feel your mind gradually change as your boyfriends started to make out around your cock. You flexed your biceps and smelled your musky pit, shuddering with pleasure as you did. Fuck you loved your musky, sweaty stink, almost as much as you loved your boyfriends.

In the last moments of your olds self, you realized what had happened. The Three Musketeers bar had literally changed you into three musk-eteers. Three musky, gay jocks who working out, fucking, and smelling their own sweaty pits. You had to admit, as shocking as this was… it was also really hot. You could definitely get used to this, and something told you that you definitely will.

[yaut-jaknowit]

Trio of bad bloods obsessed with their human mechanic. So much so that said human has no choice but to live on their ship because they'd be dammed if someone else touched you! (Not that the human is complaining, lol) The human is smitten :3 perhaps said human teases them to break the sexual tension?

Scared to come off anon still, but I adore your works! ♡

Not A Bad Sight

Pairings: Mai'tuiudh (Male), A'jiadh (Male), Zaikeh (Female) x Mechanic!Reader

Word Count: 2179

Summary: The same trio always shows up every month, sometimes even shorter. You've come to learn more about them both in contact and in passing. You work on their ship. They do ask for you by name. You get their craft operating every time. The longer this goes on, the less the trio wants to let you go.

Author Note: This is a fantastic idea! I loved writing this so much. Also, this gave me an idea for anons. For those who are using Anon, could you use an emoji or even a nickname to distinguish everyone. Another thing, I promise I don't bite! If you want to jump into my Dms and rant about Yautjas, I'll be right there with you

Masterlist

Ao3

Sweat dribbled down your forehead. The heat of the place nearly overwhelming if you hadn’t grown use to it day in, day out. A small electrical fan spun on the highest setting and blew slightly cooler air at you. Not too much of a difference. Someone would have to pry the thing out of your melted, sweat hands before you would give it up though.

With your forearm, you swiped away the offending salty drip of water and continued to tighten a bolt. This was such an easy fix, one any of those hunks of meat could easily do themselves. They are known to get their hands dirty.

Those large muscles you knew had to take years to perfect aren’t a sight you would turn away from. Said muscles could easily unlogde this moderate size space rock, pull the damage panelling up, then replace it.

Not even the hardware underneath the panel was damaged. But nope, the trio came sauntering and always asked you by name. Your boss could care less. It earned her money. Money in both of your pockets was a job well done. Though, you came by honesty with them and let them know this was more trouble for their pockets then it was worth to have you fix. All of them insisted you fixed it, trusting their ship in your hands.

For whatever reason, they always wanted you to make all the repairs on their vessel.

Said vessel was sleek, clean, a speed class with just a hair of defense to take a hit or two. The speed came with its downfall when it came to space junk or debris. That’s why it’s here right now.

A grunt surpassed your lips once the last bolt was secured. You proudly smirked down at the completed work then hoped off the wing.

This ship was a beauty to work on. Yautjas rarely let anyone work on their ships. So, to have an opportunity like this fall into your hands. It would be stupid to pass it on to someone else. Especially seeing all three of them walk out of the shop to pass the time. You hated to see them go but the sight was beautiful.

Like the countless times before, you send a ping to Mai’tuiudh. He’s the leader of the bunch. Well… ‘leader’. He takes charge during the transactions but it’s A’jiadh who chats you up. Then, there’s Zaikeh. The lumber giant even to the other two. A female from the pieces of information you’ve been able to pull about Yautjas and their societies.

Due to the day winding down, you stayed up at the front desk and waited for your familiar customers to walk through. A tablet in hand to keep yourself busy until then.

It’s a rarity to see a female, that you know of from personal experience and the universe wide web. The reason is unknown to you but maybe you could pull the information from one of them one day.

Of course, who knows if the Yautjas are purposefully removing knowledge of their inner workings. They don’t actively seek out other species and stick to their own. A forward going species with a serious attitude that hung to the very depths of their DNA.

A soft ding pulled you from your device and glancing at the only door in and out of this place. In walked the trio you’ve grown to know. You stood up and dipped your head in greeting. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite customers,” you greeted with a knowing smirk, your eyes finding Mai in the front.

Said male strolled into the front area and stopped at the counter dividing the four of you. His partners in crime followed in after him and paused at his sides. A’jiadh leans onto the stone tabletop and pushed closer to your personal space. There was a glint in his eyes you’ve grown to learn. He’s a cheeky little fucker and loves to see you act in any submissive way. You didn’t know if this was him personally or a trait among the Yautjas being such a dominant race.

The others showed the same trait but less of an amount. Just in causal passing, you guessed.

Before Mai could have the chance to speak, A’jiadh beat him to the punch. “So, dollface, everything fixed up for us or were you wanting to see us again for encouragement? Because I can give you all encouragement you could ever ask for,” he teased and leaned even closer to you.

Countless times around the forward Yautja, you’ve learned to just stay where you at. You huffed and rolled your eyes. “You know you could’ve fixed this yourself. You have all the right tools. Nothing was damaged,” you voiced the situations details again with a helpful tone.

Despite not falling into his tricks, A’jiadh wasn’t discouraged at all. No matter how many times you ignored the flirty comments he would throw at you.

Mai shoulder checked the mottled olive green Yautja to the side and fully stepped up to the plate. “How much?” His voice was gravelly and sent a shiver down your spine every time.

You grabbed the tablet off of the counter and scrolled through the list of customers until landing on them. The price was something you would never be willing to pay for something so simple that a child could do… if they had the strength to get the bolts off. But these are Yautjas. Probably the strongest known species that traveled the universe.

Labor and materials do cost a pretty credit around here though. You’re the best known in the system.

A heft sigh pushed the air out of your lungs. You set the tablet on the tall counter in front of him. “Well, it’s gonna be a pretty five-hundred and six credit repair,” you said and pointed towards the bottom of the page where it was typed out.

A’jiadh ‘oo’ed then lifted one of his upper mandibles, resembling a human-like smirk. “Pretty like you.” You raised a single brow at the Yautja before you put your hands on your hips, jutting one out.

“Love, you couldn’t handle me,” you said and shook your head to feign discouragement to the Yautja. It’s not like you wanted them to give up. No, instead, you wanted them to chase. Predator vs prey.

Fire blazed to life in his teal blue eyes. You weren’t oblivious to their intentions. Far from it. You knew their game as the hunters their species is known for. A game you were more than happy to play along with. But it’ll be a hard game. No easy mode.

“Is that so?” he purred out, muscles tensing as if he was readying himself for a hunt.

Before the game could continue between the two of you, Mai handed back the device. “All paid,” he interrupted and rested an elbow on the high counter afterwards. Your gaze jumped over to him. You took the tablet back and set it off to the side.

“Well, come on folks, your chariot awaits.” They’ve been back here so many times that you didn’t necessarily needed to lead them but decided to anyhow. Again, you would love to be on the other side of them. All of them walking away.

The door opened to reveal the massive hanger with many other vessels in here for repairs. Always busy, always working here. A shop that does good work always has an influx of customers. That’s this shop.

Closer to the front of the line up, sat their beautifully crafted ship. You loved to work on it every time they brough it in. Stunning in style and sleekness. You could never get enough of it. A smile worked its way onto your face before you stopped and about faced. “Here’s your beauty. Everything checked out. I got bored and ran a check on all the systems to ensure they were working properly. No issues. I’m happy to say she has a clean bill of health.”

Zaikeh stopped at your side, facing the ship. She looked down at you. Like usual, the black scaled Yautja stayed quiet and observed you within the silence. It freaked you at first but you have come to learn that’s just how she is.

“Got any questions for me?” you asked the trio before fully releasing the ship back into their care.

A’jaidh chirped and crowded into your space. You didn’t back down and enjoyed his heat brushing against your skin. A better feel than the sweltering heat the hanger gets on average. “What would it take for you to come with us?” he questioned.

Out of all the times you’ve interacted with them, these words surprised you. Your brows shot up to your hair line. Your mouth sputtered for a moment to find the right words. “W-what do you me-an?” Come with them? In what way? You don’t travel very often. The shop keeps you busy and happily wealthy to live in a comfortable apartment by yourself in a safe area on the planet.

He moved closer, your chest to his midriff. You didn’t see it happen before you felt another source of heat trap you to A’jaidh. “I think you know what he means, little one.” The smooth voice of Zaikeh met your ears. You could melt into a puddle from the heat inside of you, boiling your blood to steam.

“Like go with you guys?” you needed clarification before agreeing to anything. All this talk, this game you’ve played was in its last quarter, you had to make the last goal to win.

“Be our mechanic. Only ours. We’ll keep you safe, fed, and pampered,” Mai whispered into your ear, surprising you from his sudden appearance. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to escape. They caught their prey.

You.

“All you have to do is stay with us,” Mai muttered softly in your other ear, somehow moving around quickly. He was showing off his prowess and abilities as a hunter. “Be our mechanic. We’ll take care of you, little ooman.”

Your heart stuttered in its bony cage. You swallowed down the lump in your throat and gave the idea a thought. The ability to reach for the stars, go anywhere with them. Yeah, the shop was fun, the money was good. But this here, was an opportunity you would die for. Kill for even. Three Yautjas wanted you. You wanted the three Yautjas.

All the plays you endured while playing this game with them is paying off. You swallowed your nerves and straightened your spine before looking to the side at Mai. He was the leader after all. “I’ll go with you,” you accepted, couldn’t deny the way your body vibrated with anticipation and anxiety.

A Cheshire-like grin spread across his alien face. “Good, because it wasn’t a choice. You’re ours. No one is allowed to touch you or even look in your general vicinity,” Mai growled and brushed his knuckled against your cheek.

“Yeah, we aren’t below kidnapping you. But, we’re glad you’ve decided to come willingly,” A’jaidh joined the conversation.

Kidnapping?! “You were going to kidnap me? That doesn’t seem very honorable. Wouldn’t that break your honor code?” you questioned and tilted your head.

The hand that brushed against your cheek snatched your chin to lift up your head. Mai’tuiudh stood up tall before your form. “Honor? Oh sweet thing, we don’t care about honor. We are Bad Bloods after all,” he admitted. Your eyes widened at the realization that these Yautjas aren’t part of the majority of their species society. Instead, they’re the rouges who’ve broke their promise and honor. There was nothing holding them back from killing you.

And you loved it.

The two Yautjas pinning you between them finally backed off and allowed you to have some breathing room. Mai kept his hold on your chin and dragged you closer to him. “You’re ours now, ooman.” Then Mai let go and motioned towards the ship. Without complaint you happily skipped towards the belly of the ship.

Just like them, you knew the ship like the back of your hand. You tapped in the code to lower the ramp and waited for it go fully down. A glance behind you showed they were following you into their ship. Nothing could wipe off the smile on your face. A new, exciting chapter in your life.

[little-annie]

Happy Birthday @strangerthingswritersguild ❤️

M (Mentions of sexual activity and Eddie's 🍆) | WC 836 | Stobin & Steddie

It was Steve's 29th birthday and although Eddie had plans -rockstar duties- that didn't stop Robin from swooping in and saving the day.

Work couldn't be escaped, which sure, that was shitty, but Steve owned the place and still had to see through certain duties on a daily basis. Plus it gave him and Robin the opportunity to hash out their plans for the evening. On their way out of the shop they ordered pizza to Steve's apartment and set out to the closest gas station to procure a hoard of candy and a couple bottles of wine.

It was their constant gabbing back and forth that distracted Steve from Eddie's car in the parkade. 

Both he and Robin, oblivious to the fact of what was waiting in the apartment for Steve, they carried on.

By the time the elevator reached the 34th floor, a bag of Skittles had been demolished and Steve was laughing so hard he was hiccuping. With tears in his eyes and gasping for breath Steve was bent over wheezing when Robin opened the door to his and Eddie's apartment, leaving him momentarily blind to the sight before him.

But that didn't mean he missed the blood curdling scream released by Robin in the same instant Eddie's voice yelled out a happy, “Surprise!”

Popping upright with the joy that his boyfriend was home for his birthday, Steve was met with a very nude Eddie. There in his porcelain skin and tattooed glory, Eddie was laid out on their black leather couch, surrounded by rose petals, candles and chocolates.

Steve's heart fluttered with excitement.

And Robin's shuddered with horror. “Eddie! What the fuck!? Put your junk away!”

While Eddie calmly cupped himself on the couch not moving another inch from his position, Steve struggled to pull his eyes away as Robin's ire was turned towards him.

“I thought you said he wasn't going to be home, Dingus. How am I ever going get the image of Eddie's saggy nuts -

“-hey my nuts aren't saggy!”

- out of my head. It'll be forever burned into my retinas. I'll have to bleach my eyeballs or carve them out with a fucking spoon.”

Eddie's now grumbling to himself on the couch looking down at his crotch, most likely trying to hype himself up from Robin's early insult. Steve's sure he hears the whispered words of, ‘You're not saggy, you're perfectly normal and I love you.’ And with Eddie Steve can never be sure, but it's not a far off guess.

God how he loves that dork.

Steve can't believe Eddie flew in from his tour for his birthday.

Still shielding himself from Robin's delicate eyes, Eddie catches Steve's lingering stare and puckers his lips into a kiss, blowing it in Steve's direction while he continues to stand in the doorway with Robin.

Eventually he decides to tune back into her rant.

“- penis, Steve. I'm a lesbian, I shouldn't have to see anyone's dick. And we both know I've seen yours enough as is. Lord knows I can't forget last Halloween and the horror that it truly was. But Eddie's?! I didn't need to know it was pierced, let alone tattooed! Sure you probably would have told me eventually, but come on man, I didn't need to see it.”

It's the mention of such a tattoo that has Steve whipping his head back in Eddie's direction.

Eddie didn't have a tattoo there when he left.

Oh.

Oh.

As Steve catches on and Eddie sends him a wink, mouthing a sly ‘Surprise,’ he has to restrain him from shoving Robin out the door.

“Get out.”

Robin's rambling stops and she looks at Steve deeply offended, “Excuse me.”

He'll make it up to her later, but currently his rockstar boyfriend is laid out naked on their expensive couch with a new tattoo that Steve really feels the deep seeded need to taste, lick from the man's body, or suck from his skin. 

Truly any of the above works.

Robin rolls her eyes and groans, “But Steve-uh, the pizza.”

“I'll order a pizza to your damn apartment, Robby. But I swear to god if you don't leave in the next five seconds you're going to see a whole lot more than just a single dick.”

She scrunches her nose in disgust, “Boo you whore.”

“You know it.” Steve states proudly, “Now out, please. I swear once Eddie's gone we can do a pizza and wine night.”

Robin groans once again, but she does eventually leave with a pinch to Steve's ass and a snarky, “Don't get him pregnant!” sent in Eddie's general direction.

With the click of the door behind him, Steve sheds his clothes clumsily and hops from one foot to the other as he steps out of his jeans, then underwear, on his way to the couch.

With little to no grace he falls into Eddie's arms with a giggle, feeling the press of lips to his forehead and the whispered words of, “Happy Birthday, Baby,” to his skin.

[silassinclair]

Let me Take Care of You

Yandere Boxer x Injured Reader

Summary: It’s always been you taking care of Viktor and the other fighters. After all you’re the gym’s doctor! It’s your job. But what happens when it’s the other way around and you’re the one with the injury this time?

CW// Injuries, Blood, Personal Space Invaded

Masterlist Here!!

The gym was packed with fighters training for the upcoming fight this weekend. This weekend Viktor was going to be fighting a German fighter named Iron Klaus; the famous Iron Claw of Berlin. One punch from him and the opponent will be out like a light. So Viktor has been training especially hard in dodging and weaving for the past month.

While everyone was focused on training you decided to clean up a little bit around the clinic. The last doctor who worked here had no organizational skills whatsoever and it peeved you. So why not use the spare time to tidy up a little?

The top cabinet was pretty dusty. The dust was pretty annoying too because the fighters with a dust allergy would always be sneezing whenever they came in. Wetting one of the paper towels you look for something to stand on so you can reach the cabinet. There’s no stools or four legged chairs, only your swivel chair.

“This idea a terrible idea.” You think to yourself. But you have to get rid of that dust for the sake of your patients. So you wheel the chair over and put a foot on it. The wheels immediately feel like they want to slide out from under you. But you ignore it. You stand to your full height with both feet on the chair and begin dusting off the cabinet top.

But suddenly one of the six plastic wheels burst off the chair, throwing you completely off balance and sending you falling to the hard tile floor.

“AH-!” You scream and hit your head on the counter then fall to the floor with a loud thud. Groaning in pain you massage your tail bone. But then something gets in your eye. Something wet.

Tapping your forehead you flinch with a hiss when you accidentally touch an open wound.

“Oh shit oh shit oh shit.” You mutter repeatedly and rush to grab a mirror. Shuffling through the junk drawer of your desk you find a compact mirror and flip it open. And to your horror you see that the top right of your forehead as a long bleeding cut. Luckily it isn’t too deep but without proper care it could scar.

“Great…”

Getting some rubbing alcohol and a cotton pad you spurt some onto the pad. But just as you’re about to dab it onto the cut the door slams open causing you to drop the wet pad.

“Can you knock-?! Viktor?” You calm down when you see it’s just Viktor. If it were Alexi you would have thrown the alcohol bottle at him.

“I need some ice..” His words fall off his tongue and his eyes widen when he finally looks at you. Viktor takes large hurriedly steps towards you immediately.

“What happened kroshechnyy!?” He asks worriedly. “You’re bleeding so much. It may scar your simpatichnyy (pretty) face.”

You roll your eyes. “It looks worse than it feels. It’s alright. I was just about to disinfect before you came barging in. And don’t slam my door open anymore, you’ll break it.”

Viktor just grunts and takes you by the arm and pretty much forces you to sit on the bed. “I will help you.” He says and looks through your cabinets and drawers for supplies. He gets some hydrogen peroxide, cotton balls, gauze, and medical tape.

“You really don’t have to do that, go back to training Viktor. Don’t waste your time with me.” You say earnestly. He needs to spend his time training, not taking care of you. It was your own fault for getting into this mess anyways.

With all the supplies in hand Viktor turns to you with a shake of his head. “Any second spent with you is a second well spent, not wasted. So let me take care of you.”

And he wasn’t asking. He goes to work immediately and dabs some of the hydrogen peroxide onto a cotton ball and dabs it onto your forehead. When you wince in pain he shushes you calmly like a baby. Cooing and reassuring you that everything is going to be okay.

“Shh shh kroshechnyy, it will only hurt a bit.” He whispers and cleans the wound. The bleeding has stopped now.

His eyes are calm and focused as all his attention is on you. Helping you, taking care of you, loving you. It feels so domestic cleaning your wound. It makes him feel like the two of you are lovers. He gently lays a square of thin gauze over the cut and tapes it down with some of the medical tape.

“Sorry if the job is… sloppy. I am not used to attending wounds.” He mutters with disappointment in himself.

But you reassure him with a light smile. “Hey it’s a better job than what I would’ve done with just a compact mirror. I appreciate it, thank you.”

Viktor nods softly, he turns away from your gaze as pink blush dusts his pale cheeks.

You sit still for a moment. The sting of the cut is slowly fading away thanks to Viktor’s first aid. But then you remember why Viktor came into the office in the first place; you retrieve a bag of ice from the mini fridge.

“Here. Thank you again for helping me.” You say and hand him the bag.

Viktor nods with a small grunt and accepts the bag.

“So what’s the ice for?” You ask. “Did you get hurt?”

Viktor nods. “Olēg hit me pretty hard in the ribs. Old bald bastard still packs a mean punch.”

You chuckle. “Well it’s good practice for you against your upcoming match with that German guy. Anyway, you can rest here while you use that ice.”

Viktor smiles slightly. “You’ll let me rest here? Usually you always try to shoot me away kroshechnyy.”

Well he had a point. It annoyed you when Viktor would come in here on the daily and just watch you while you worked. But for the past few weeks he hasn’t visited due to his rigorous training regiment. Deep down you missed his calm presence and his awkward attempts at making small talk. So what if you missed him a little bit? He was the only decent company here. All the other fighters have no manners.

“This time is an exception, think of it as a thank you for patching me up this time.” You say whilst organizing some drawers.

You feel warmth press up from behind and turn your head slightly to the side. Viktor’s gotten up from the bed and came up behind you, pinning you to the desk with a hand on the hardwood on either side. His front is right against your back and you can feel his warm breath on the side of your cheek. He leant his face down lower; his lips just barely graze the shell of your ear.

“Viktor what did I say about personal space-”

“Sorry, I can’t help myself. I just really miss you.” He says with a low hum. His voice is rich and deep like honey, but also dark and dangerous like the night.

Shivers shoot up your spine. What was he trying to pull? “Viktor I said I wanted to take it slow with the whole becoming friends again thing…”

His hand slams down on the desk making you jump with a yelp.

“Well I’m getting impatient.” The growl in his voice makes your blood run cold.

“O-Okay okay j-just calm down for a sec.” You say wobbly. The feeling of his nose on the top of your head makes your train of thought stall. He inhales your scent slowly, reminiscing in the nostalgic smell of your lavender shampoo.

“Just let me hold you close… please. Think of it as your gift to me for patching you up.”

You nod your head in understanding. Viktor is a damaged man. He’s touch starved, affection starved, and had a rough up bringing. If he wanted some semblance of comfort from you then you’ll happily give it. Even if it’s awkward and slightly uncomfortable for yourself. But hey, maybe the uncomfortable feeling will go away soon once you two re-bond overtime.

“It’s alright.” You whisper and pat his back. “I’m here now… Just don’t fuck up again okay? Or I really won’t forgive you ever again.”

He hums lowly. “I’ll never. Never again.”

His arms wrap around you into a warm embrace. And you welcome the embrace. His exterior is cold but his arms are warm. You can’t help but put your arms around him in return.

The two of you bask in a couple minutes of calm silence. But shouts from outside the clinic yelling for Viktor can be heard. Said blonde grumbles in annoyance as he lets go of you, much to his distaste.

“Be more careful next time kroshechnyy. And take care of yourself.” He says while petting your hair. You bag his hand off your head with a grunt.

“Okay okay personal space breaking time is over. Now get out there and train.” You say and push him towards the door.

He rolls his eyes and opens the door. But before leaving he turns quickly to kiss your cheek, then shuts the door immediately and runs off.

“Bastard…” You mutter to yourself.

[rowretro]

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧'𝙨 𝘿𝙖𝙮

(thank this song for my return sober<3 and ofc riki!!!)

✧Warnings: Nothing I know of- tell me if there's any warnings

✧Synopsis: Having a crush on someone can stir up your emotions, one moment, bubbling with love, feeling stupid the next, mind invaded with that person, love signals everywhere, it would feel as though you're in a music video. Y/n is almost convinced he's the one, though she didn't think to ask for his name, she's to shy, after all he's way out of her league. Little did she know, Riki too felt the same, Too shy to approach her.

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

Y/n waited patiently, sat on a moss-coated wall her sparkly nails, tapping against the silver case of her phone. it's been a whole 35 minutes since her dear friend Eunchae went in for a date, she was so convinced it would go wrong that she dragged y/n alone just in case. But all y/n could see was her friend smiling and laughing like never before, no red signals. Heck it must be some kind of lover's day, so many couples surrounding her, it's almost sickening. Don't get her wrong, she's all for love, true love, the kind one'd die for, the kind where you can trust someone, the love makes you seem like an idiot.

Y/n pulled out her phone, head down as she connected her Bluetooth earphones, scrolling through Spotify looking for a song she feels like listening to in her playlist. Just as she looked up from her phone, picking a song, she almost fell on her back, gripping on the wall as she stared the small, glowing insect fluttering before her. She had no idea where it came from, the glowing blue butterfly, with black lines painted on it's wings, to created such a intricate design. She turned her head in it's direction, as it flew through a few couples.

Riki parked his car, stepping out of it as he searched for the coupon on his phone. His summer holiday has been nothing but boring so far, a dreading, uneventful month of being woken up early by his Hyung's, doing chores, eating junk and playing video games. Which is why he was out here, yawning, as he pulled up the Papa John's app on his phone. It was a Tuesday after all. As he looked up from his phone, he cussed under his breath, almost falling back against his car's front, as he saw the blue morpho butterfly up close, its wings fluttering away from him. His head turned, a frown adorning his face, but it soon disappeared when he locked eyes with a girl.

Her black hair cut somewhat short, layers flowing out and framing her face, dark eyes somewhat wide, stars reflecting from pupils. Y/n didn't fail to notice those pretty moles of his, one under his eye, just like hers, his lips plump, but his eyes, lovestruck. Never has she ever seen a man like this in these local streets. She frowned as the cars drive past, obstructing their view. Riki groaned, standing by the traffic light. His eye's narrowing at the red light, as he mentally threatened it. His eyes widened as he saw the red stop man move, his hands forming a heart.

Y/n frowned kicked the rock before her, annoyed. One pretty boy, and the polluted roads lost him. Pollution really does do harm after all. She frowned as she stared at the rock she just kicked, it was shaped like a heart. She sighed rolling her eyes, god and his odd ways of sending humans a message through coincidences. She froze in her seat when the bubbles that the kids blew, suddenly formed in the shape of hearts. She's just going crazy. Just in a small distance, between the never ending bubbles, the biggest sign cane walking toward her.

The male himself. Riki had no idea what he was doing, or what he was going to do, but perhaps his hesitation with something as simple as approaching a stylish girl, is what's keeping him from having a fun-filled bright summer. "Hey uhm could you walk me to Papa John's? I'm new here so..." New here? bullshit. He had been here since he was 14. "Uhm it's just there.... where you were earlier...." Y/n said as she mentally facepalmed. Fuck. was he asking her out? "I know.... so would you mind?... I can treat you to some pizza for the burden." He asked again , hopeful and internally screaming, though outside he played it off cool, shocked by how calm he was being.

"Gladly!" She said with a smile. Eunchae can always call her. Plus it seems she's having a blast anyway. Y/n can turn down any pretty boy. A Lee Suho? Han Seojun? but this pretty boy, was worth all her time. So says the world around her, and so says her heart. A small date wouldn't hurt. Riki smiled, staring down at the shorter girl, a smile making it's way to his lips, he so badly wanted to hold her hand in his, talk to her take her on plenty dates. Hopefully he will<3

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

[itsbeeble]

BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT

THE TBZ FRAT HOUSE IS HOSTING THE BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT COLLAB BY @juyeonszn AND @itsbeeble!

YOU'RE INVITED!

PAIRINGS: tbz x f!reader

GENRES: smut, fluff, minimal angst, crack

WARNINGS: smut, minor angst, fluff, mentions of injuries, alcohol, swearing, more warnings to be added to the individual fics 18+ MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

SUMMARY: Have you ever wondered what your favorite frat boyz are up to in their personal lives? If so, then these fics are just for you! Join us as we take a glimpse into the Tau Beta Zeta fraternity and see what they get up to in their free time!

MORE: The way me and Fawn have been planning this for so long omgggg. Me and Fawn are so excited to announce this collab in celebration of my 1 year on tumblr, 6 year anniversary of The Boyz, AND as just a fun little event!! I hope you guys are as excited for this as I am hehe. And please feel free to send an ask or comment on this post if you'd like to be tagged in each part!!

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

FALL SEMESTER

TRY HARD — LEE JUYEON (12/6)

Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

EXCITEMENT — JI CHANGMIN (12/6)

You know, when you told your girl friends that you’d never finished before, you were expecting it to blow over like no big deal. What you weren’t expecting was for it to spiral into a whole other mess.

SEEING STARS — KIM SUNWOO (12/10)

It’s slightly embarrassing how Sunwoo is naive enough to take Eric Sohn’s “advice” to heart. Luckily, you like idiots. Especially when they kick a ball into your face and agree to do a semester’s worth of schoolwork for you.

CLUMSY — JU HAKNYEON (12/10)

When Haknyeon ran into you at a TBZ party for the first time, he didn’t think he would fall for you so quickly. Or literally. Or both simultaneously. But there’s a first time for everything, he supposes.

"FRIENDLY" COMPETITION — LEE SANGYEON (12/14)

The TBZ frat had always had a rivalry with the KAT sorority. At least, they did when you and Sangyeon became the presidents three years ago. What happens when you mix a little friendly competition into this rivalry of yours?

JE NE SAIS QUOI — JACOB BAE (12/14)

Jacob thought the concept of fraternities was stupid. So stupid that despite every single one of his friends being in one, he still refused to join. However, after meeting you at one of the TBZ parties, he’s starting to think maybe they’re not that horrible.

SPRING SEMESTER

LET LOOSE — KIM YOUNGHOON (12/19)

Younghoon has hated you since the day he met you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

(NO) STRINGS ATTACHED — LEE HYUNJAE (12/19)

Becoming friends with Lee Hyunjae after his valiant attempt to save your life (stopping you from drunk driving) was certainly not on your year’s bingo card. Also not on your bingo card? Waking up in his bed every other night following, but it’s not like you’re really complaining.

NO BITCHES? — ERIC SOHN (12/22)

When you met Eric, you’d thought he was just another frat boy, looking to get into any woman’s pants (particularly yours at that moment). You never would’ve thought that he was just a loser who really liked FNAF and just thought you were pretty.

PARTY O'CLOCK — CHOI CHANHEE (12/22)

In spite of being a frat boy himself, Chanhee could never actually see himself enjoying the luxuries of the title. Besides, how could he with all the responsibilities of being treasurer? Enter you and your carefree spirit and Chanhee’s got a real big problem on his hands.

PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER — KEVIN MOON (PT. 1 | PT. 2)

It wasn’t like you and Kevin hated each other. In fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. Well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.

© juyeonszn & itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[snailmail444]

Bachelor Head Cannons

18+ 🌱 NSFW 🌱 MDNI

Head cannons for all the bachelors masturbation habits under the cut! Send me asks if you want to see more head cannons from me 💞

Harvey-

💚 Harvey spends so much time antsy and anxious, poor guy.

💚 So when he’s getting himself off he needs a gentle touch. Literally and figuratively.

💚 He has a few favorite videos he likes of porn, which he goes back to when he’s getting off.

💚 Professional porn takes him out of it. He’s so worried about if everything is consensual and comfortable and compensated he’s not horny anymore. Even when he can get past that, he just isn’t into the fake porn premises.

💚 Do you really expect him to believe she’s stuck in that washing machine? Get real.

💚 Harvey can really get into it when it’s amateur, and the couple seems like they’re genuinely enjoying each other. Giggling, bumping the camera, whispered “I love you’s.”

💚 Uses a lot of quality lube. As a doctor, he’s going to take proper care of his body. Especially his dick. The last thing he wants is a friction burn on his junk.

💚 Goes nice and slow. He doesn’t want to rush himself when he’s working to relax, so it’s not a race for him.

💚 Eyes fluttering, cheeks flushed, hitching breath when he’s close.

💚 Can only get off when the people in the video have. Cums with a sigh, leaning back in complete satisfaction.

💚 Takes a long shower after and gets excellent rest. It really helps alleviate his stress, so he sleeps like a baby.

Elliott-

❤️ When I tell You this man makes it an EVENT!

❤️ He’s breaking out the candles. He’s got a bubble bath run. He’s got a glass of red wine.

❤️ Elliott is first and foremost a man of luxury. So when it comes to taking care of himself? He is taking CARE of himself.

❤️ We’re talking a long edging session that starts in the tub and ends in his bed. He’s so coy that he even teases himself. Gets him worked UP!

❤️ This is an erotic novel kinda guy if there ever was one. I mean come on. You KNOW he’s reading those flowing sex scenes with flowery language to get off to.

❤️ One hand holding his dick the other holding his book.

❤️ It doesn’t matter if he’s alone, he is talking. Elliott is a wellspring of words, so they’re flowing. Praise and curses and sweet names, all of it. He gets so wrapped up in the fantasy that it feels real to him, and that’s his way to engage with it.

❤️ He’s a romantic, but the stuff that really gets him off is hot and desperate and needy. The love interests of his novel devouring each other after a slow burn or a long break. The passion is where it’s at for him.

❤️ Secretly kinda loves it filthy. Chaste and loving is good and satisfying, but it doesn’t do a ton for him sexually. He wants his sex sloppy, spitty, and utterly human.

❤️ Probably gets off the least out of all the bachelors simply because it’s a whole process for him. He wants to enjoy it with unabashed hedonism.

❤️ Sometimes he’ll eat fruit while he’s doing it just to engage all his senses.

Alex-

🤎 Alex would absolutely be a morning jerker if Evelyn and George weren’t up at the crack of dawn.

🤎 Man wakes up rock hard and would love to do something about it, but since Evelyn knocks on his door for breakfast at a routine seven am, he has to will it away.

🤎 The tradeoff, though, makes it worth the wait. Both of his lovely grandparents are hard of hearing, go to bed early, and George has a loud CPAP machine.

🤎 So when I tell you Alex can be as loud as he wants at night. He can be as loud as he wants. Unless you’re physically shaking his grandparents, they’re sleeping through it.

🤎 Which is a good thing, because Alex is a mouthy guy. Moans, groans, curses, whines, whimpers, you name it. If he has a hand on his dick, he’s making noise.

🤎 It’s a little old fashioned, but Alex has sexy magazines stashed between his mattress and box spring. Video porn is overwhelming to him—he doesn’t know what to search, he just wants some eye candy—so this is the best option he can think of.

🤎 He’s not very fussy, honestly. Low maintenance kinda jerker. As long as he’s looking at somebody he finds attractive, he’s gonna get off.

🤎 And Alex is such a secret romantic, he’s thinking about sweet, tender sex with somebody he would love a whole lot. His hand takes the same rhythm he imagines he’d use fucking slow and deep.

🤎 This is the way that Alex ends. Not with a bang, but a whimper. Man is whining as he strokes himself through his orgasm.

🤎 Has a few tissues he uses to clean up and then passes directly out. Rinse and repeat three times/week.

Shane-

💙 Okay it depends.

💙 If he’s still drinking he doesn’t jerk off that much because he’s got chronic whiskey dick.

💙 BUT. After that? Oh boy.

💙 Shane’s surprised by his own libido when he’s sober. It’s, like, all the time. He thinks maybe it’s because he didn’t get off for so long that he’s making up for lost time.

💙 He gets a surprising amount of privacy in the old ranch house, which he has never been more thankful for. It doesn’t hurt that Marnie snore pretty loud and Jas sleeps like the dead, so most of the night is free to him.

💙 However. Some nights it’s just not feasible. Cough, cough, thanks Lewis.

💙 Luckily, Shane’s got his secret spot. The dock never gets any foot traffic, literally ever. He absolutely will go out there to take care of himself if he needs to.

💙 Big lotion guy. He needs it especially because his hands are rough from all the work he does with them. The callouses feel good if he’s got enough lubricant, though.

💙 Can go either way on porn. Sometimes he likes to watch a good video of what he’s in the mood for, but he doesn’t need it.

💙 He gets off more on memories than anything else. Some of his best fucks are vivid enough in his mind he almost feels like he’s back there when he gets off on it.

💙 And if he has a crush on somebody? Man doesn’t need much. Getting off thinking about how they looked on their knees the other day, about how his cum would look on their face. In the moment he has no shame in thinking about the object of his affections. That’ll come later.

💙 Bites his wrist to keep himself quiet. Not because anybody can hear him, but because he gets embarrassed about the noises he makes and how into it he gets.

💙 Gets desperate for release towards the end. Bucking his hips up and fucking his fist until he cums over his tense stomach. His face is complete bliss, and typically he forgets to muffle that last moan anymore because he’s too caught up in his pleasure.

💙 Post nut clarity hits him a little too hard sometimes. He feels a lot of guilt and shame he’s still working through. Therapy’s helping, though.

Sam-

🩷 Poor Sammy never gets any proper alone time. It’s not the easiest for him to just get off whenever the urge comes on him.

🩷 Which is incredibly unfortunate, because the urge comes on him…often, to say the least.

🩷 Let’s be real. It’s probably once a day, sometimes twice. Man’s sex drive is insane. Truly just insatiable.

🩷 But the walls of his house are paper thin, he has no lock on his door, and his mom and Vincent are always busting in. He only gets a shred of privacy in his shower, and even that’s difficult because he shares with Vincent. Hard to get off when his tiny fists are constantly pounding on the door.

🩷 So Sam can’t just jack it at a moments notice. He has to wait until everybody is asleep, because blessedly Jodi and Vince go to bed early, and Kent is usually in bed by ten pm sharp. Thank God for that military sense of routine.

🩷 As soon as it’s lights out, Sam’s got an earbud in and a hand in his boxers. He’s so desperate and needy by the end of the day that he has to bite his shirt to keep from moaning with relief.

🩷 Man adores porn. LOVES. Porn. He needs a visual aid for his fantasies, and some good audio doesn’t hurt his feelings.

🩷 Sweet Sam has a possessive streak. He tries to find videos where one of the people looks like whoever he’s into at the time, and he imagines it’s him fucking them.

🩷 And if the video has a good cumshot? He’s gone. Fucking wasted. His hand will slide feverishly up and down his cock until he’s cumming right along with them, the whole time imagining it’s him marking up his crush and making them his.

🩷 By the grace of Yoba he hasn’t been caught yet, but he’s always rushing because he’s paranoid somebody will find him with a hand around his dick or cum all over his abdomen.

Sebastian-

🖤 Unlike Sam, he has almost complete privacy the majority of the time.

🖤 Robin spared no expense on soundproofing their house, so nobody can hear anything unless they’re pressed up against his door.

🖤 And since nobody bothers him, and he’s got a sturdy lock, it’s never a problem. He can get off really whenever he wants to.

🖤 When he was in high school, it was all the time. If he had a second alone, he was probably jerking off.

🖤 Now though, it’s tapered off. He only has to get off once a week, maybe a few times if he’s really worked up about something.

🖤 And with his computer setup? He has a full Cinematic experience. Full screen, over-ear headphones, reclined back in his gamer chair. His dick pulled out of his boxers and his shirt rucked up to his chest. Sebastian is taking complete advantage of every luxury he has available to him.

🖤 Let’s be real. He’s an Only Fans kinda guy. Sebastian has specific tastes, and he likes the convenience of having content he likes ready and available. Plus, he’s not about to risk any viruses on his computer.

🖤 It doesn’t hurt that it’s more ethical that way. Sex work is real work, and deserves proper compensation, which he’s more than happy to give.

🖤 As for the content? We circle back to his specific tastes. He likes soft BDSM. No intense stuff, but the dirty talk aspect especially does it for him. Spanking or light choking are about as hardcore as he likes.

🖤 But the thing that’s guaranteed to get him off? Oral. Every single time. He loves to go down on people—he’s borderline obsessed with it, actually. It’s something he can’t personally put his finger on (it’s called an oral fixation buddy), but he cums so hard thinking about leaving purpling hickies along thighs and using his tongue to get his partner off.

🖤 And since he prioritizes heavily on having a clean space, he has everything ready to clean himself up. Especially important since he cums a lot.