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hitchyboi · 5 months ago
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🟢 Ermac - NSFW Alphabet 🟢
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Content Warning: NSFW- Not Safe for Work
Here I am delivering more contect for the very much needed side of Ermac lovers! (Me, i'm the ermac lover). I apologies for the wait, I meant to finish this a few weeks ago. Writing motivation has not been in existance....
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A= Aftercare (What they're like after sex)
It can be quite confusing the first few times, he can be emotionally distant afterwards. Having the habit of getting very quiet but he makes sure to clean his partner and himself up. He doesn't intent to be distant, the intensity of love making plus the multiple voices running through his head can just leave him a little overwhelmed afterwards and speaking takes a lot of effort.
"Gather some rest, Our moon and stars. We shall stay by your side till the sun rises again." He'll finally whisper while your on the edge of sleep in his arms.
B = Body Part (They're favorite part on their partner and their own body)
Ermac would find the fact his body exists in general to be a blessing, without the physical vessel his existence wouldn't be. But if he had to choose a part to be his favorite he would say his eyes. His eyes are full of color and life compared to his corpse like appearance.
His favorite part of his partner's body would be their hands. He finds himself reaching for their hands often within their privacy, lifting his fingers to his thin lips and kissing them. A soft but pure way to show his affection towards his partner.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)
There isn't much his body can give, unfortunately. His body's functions tend to run slower then a normal person, hear, blood, digestion, and cum is included. What his body tends to lack however he greatly makes up for in other areas.
Ermac loves to make his partner cum multiple times, he will pull fourth multiple out of his partner. Huge service top.
D = Dirty Secret (What's a dirty secret they have?)
Sometimes on the rare occasion that Ermac doesn't find himself thinking carnal thoughts about his partner and wanting to relieve himself he will have one of his souls manifest and take on the appearance of his partner. Often slowly stripping in front of him and running their hands around the mimicry of his partner's body. It isn't the same as his partner but a fully physical form of his partner to look at his far better than a mere photo.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing)
Now this is a bit interesting. While physically Ermac has like no experience, his body only just recently been pieced together. He does still retain the memories and experiences of the souls within him, so in other words. Ermac knows what to do it'll just take him a moment to pick back up on how to do it. But once he's warmed up, you're gonna have a long night~
F = Favorite Position
Ermac's favorite position is when you're on all fours over him, sucking him off while one or two of his manifested soul's are pleasuring you at the same time. He gets to see every little reaction and expression on your face as you're trapped with an onslaught of pleasure. Seeing his partner's mouth take the entirety of his cock while one of his souls is fucking into them is absolutely one of his favorite sights.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious or are they humorous during the moment?)
Ermac is a very serious person. Humor tends to go over his head quite often but even so he does not see why he would be humorous when making love to his partner.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they? Carpet match the drapes n all that?)
Bald. Man's got no hair on the entirety of his body. Naked mole rat
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantically?)
Intamacy is something Ermac has a much easier time with. He loves to hold his partners face during and staring into their eyes, he'll whisper honey covered praises as he pushes them closer to their climax.
J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanons)
Ermac rarely jacks off on his own accord, very rarely is his ever buzzing mind able to focus on one thing on its own and self pleasure is very far down on that list.
K = Kink (One or a few of their kinks)
Bondage- Ermac will use his telekinesis abilities to hold his partner in place, watching them squirm and try to move away when the pleasure gets too much
Cuckholding? Kinda- Cuckholding with himself more like. He'll absolutely manifest a few of his soul's to pleasure and toy with his partner's body. Sitting back with a satisfied smirk on his face as he gets to watch his partner get turned into a needy mess in front of him. It gives him a moment to feel in full control, watching one soul slam down his partner's throat while the other edges and teases them with their hands.
Orgasm Control/Overstimulation- Ermac's body can only take so much, so he prefers to give as much as he can towards his partner. Drawing them to the edge only to deny their finish over and over again until they can't take it any more. Servicing them with his mouth, his fingers, his souls until he's forced them to cum multiple times afterwards.
L = Location (Favorite places to do the dirty)
Ermac is a pretty private being, what goes in in the bedroom is between his partner and the 10,000 souls inside his body. Because of this Ermac tends to prefer fucking his partner in the comfort of their own home. The couch specifically as it gives him a comfortable place to sit and watch his partner become cock drunk.
M = Motivation (What turns them on?)
Ermac's main motivation would probably be whenever his partner wants too and is blunt about it. Subtlety can sometimes be lost on him so as soon as his partner comes to him saying they're horny or turned on. Instantly this man is ready to service and provide.
N = No (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs)
Anything in public is a no for Ermac. He doesn't like the thought of people watching or walking in on them. The time is meant to be between themselves and his partner. That also goes along with sharing, Ermac will happily share his partner with the multitude of souls that inhabit him. But anyone outside of his vessel is a no.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
He loved both for their different reasons however if he had to pick a preference, receiving. He loves staring down at his partner's face, gripping their hair and fucking himself down their throat. The way his partner's eyes roll back, the moans that vibrate against his cock, their tongue slipping further out to brush against his folds, and the desperate way his partner grabs at his body to pull him back closer each time. It's by far his favorite way to cum.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc)
This man will do both, depends on the mood he's feeling. Whichever pace he feels will provide his partner with the most pleasure in that moment is what he'll prefer.
Q = Quickies (Their thoughts & opinions on quickies)
Ermac isn't a fan on quickies, He loves to draw it out as long as he can. Taking his time with his partner and slowly breaking them down with his teasing touches and unfair abilities to reduce their mind to a puddle of mush. He can't do that with quickies, it isn't enjoyable for him.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?)
Ermac is open to experimentation as long as it has been thoroughly thought and spoken about before hand. Ermac is a being that knows his strength, the last thing he'd want to do is accidentally bring harm to his partner.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)
Ermac's stamina can last him a while, having to build up the pleasure enough for his slow moving body to respond properly gives him a lot of time to toy with his partner. However, once he has reached that point he will be spent the rest of the night, the physical and mental combination taking a large toll on his body and hold.
T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On their partner or themself?)
Why use a toy when he can do the exact same thing with his telekinesis? If his partner wants to use a toy he won't be against it but his abilities let him basically do what they do twice as effectively.
U = Unfair (How much do they like to tease?)
This man will tease his partner all night long and into the morning if given the chance. Drawing it out and enjoying the process of breaking his partner down.
V = Volume (How loud are they? What sounds do they make?)
He's pretty quiet for the most part, he prefers to keep his volume at a minimum. Mostly quick gasps and grunts. However if you listen carefully to his unique voice you can hear other sounds of pleasure whispering along, too faint to fully make out but their presence is there. Sometimes these faint moans and whines will increase if you pass over an especially sensitive area on him.
W = Wild (A random headcanon for the character)
Not sexual but Ermac is oddly romantic. Much more romantic than one would think the construct can be capable of but he will find sweet ways to show his love for his partner in everything they're doing. Calling them sweet pet names in a soft whisper, comparing their beauty to the welcoming embrace of the moon's light, always will cook breakfast for his partner the next morning after sex. It gives a warm feeling in his chest being able to provide something for his partner and have a purpose with them.
X = X-ray (What's going on underneath those clothes?)
Now Ermac is a construct made out of 10,000 souls. Male and female. His body reflects that, while mostly masculine in appearance and demeanor he does posses both genitalia.
Cock is about an average side of 5 inches, a bit on the thinner side with a prominent and sensitive vein on the underside.
Vaginal opening is located just under his cock
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Very low, Ermac doesn't think about sex quiet often so it isn't on his radar. However he's more than happy to oblige when his partner wishes
Z = Zzz (how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards?)
Sleep has always been a difficult thing for Ermac to achieve, often he'll just lay awake watching his partner for hours on end until his body gives out on him as he's in constant mental kombat. After sex however is the one time he'll usually fall asleep at the same pace of a normal person, still takes longer than his partner but he does get there.
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slvttyplum · 1 month ago
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fucking satoru was a whole process, from his whining and impatience and wanting you to loosen him up instead, which turned into hours, but you couldn’t complain because the reward was so godly it made every little thing worth it.
satoru’s moans filled the bedroom wall to wall, his body squirming and drool hitting the bed sheets as your fingers worked overtime.
“stop tensing. relax.” your fingers buried deep inside of him, you’ve done the same routine every single time, yet he still got nervous, but no one understood the effort the way you did; that’s why he put all his trust in you.
“i cant… just put it in.” his words coming out fast, his body still twitching and the tip of his dick wet, he was eager, but his body was sensitive, especially his backside.
adjusting yourself, you slide your hand up and down his back, hoping it would soothe his nerves, the squirming and twitching eventually stopping.
sliding your hand to his lower back and lightly pushing down, satoru adjusting his position as you slip your fingers out and line yourself with him, placing one hand at his hip and the other on your base, slowly sliding yourself in.
"you okay?" his body started to tremble again, his face turning to the side, his cheeks flushed and his mouth wet. it was like looking into a portal; he always looked the same; even his moans when you started to move were the same.
taking deep gasps and clutching the sheets that were damp beneath him, trying to catch his breath as you started to move faster but never could.
once you were into it, you always made sure to go the extra mile and go faster than he did when he was inside of you, but the way he looked beneath you turned you on in a way where you wanted to go slow but make him cry and whine around you.
"stop laying down; hold it." gripping your hand on his hip as he whined, sliding yourself out and pushing into him harder, his eyes wet from tears and his knuckles red from how hard he was gripping onto the sheet.
he loved how it felt, but he wasn't as strong as you when it came to taking dick, his dick twitching while he came, his position falling again, looking at you with his head still turned, some of his hair sticking to his forehead.
an exhausted smile on his lips as his eyes closed.
"just give me a few minutes. yeah?" breathless, trying to compose himself, drifting off to sleep. that face was the reward that you worked for every single time; you had to see it.
@goobleissocool <3
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klemen-tine · 10 months ago
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Glass Bones and Paper Skin Part 3
Platonic! Bruce x Model! GN! Reader
Trigger Warnings: Hint at suicide, Body Issues, Eating problems (not a disorder), Child Neglect, stalking, Partner Abuse
Part 1
Part 2
@problematicreblogger and @wpdarlingpan Since you guys wanted to be tagged lol
+++++++++++++
Y/N sat in the bathtub in the guest room. It’s been three days since they arrived, saw the photos, and the creepy trophy room. Three days since their conversation with Dick, finding out that they had all been on their terrace and taking photos of them. Stalking them. 
They wrapped their arms tighter around their legs, resting their chin on sharp knees and staring at the porcelain tiles and gold facet. Three days of walking on egg shells, somehow managing to evade most attempts in hanging out with the siblings and Bruce, and only really seeing them at meals. Y/N hasn’t built up the nerve to ask about the trophy room, but Y/N knows that everyone in the house knows that Y/N knows of the two rooms. They know of the photos, the ones taken without their permission or knowledge, and the clothes that have redefined their modeling career. 
Sighing, Y/N stared at their pruning hands and the now cool water. The bubbles dissolved a long time ago and the essential oils had become diluted enough that the scents no longer permeated the air. 
Finally dressed in a robe, lotion and oil on their skin and face and teeth washed, Y/N exited the bathroom and screamed at the sight of Jason on their bed. In the midst of their panic they threw the brush at the larger man, who caught it skillfully. 
“Wha-what is wrong with you? No-wait, why are you in my room?” Y/N walked around the large bed to where all their clothes are kept. Their eyes not leaving Jason’s imposing figure that was currently resting on their bed. 
“I knocked.” Y/N rolled their eyes, “I didn’t ask if you knocked, why are you in my room?” Jason shrugged, “Just felt like I haven’t talked to you in a bit.” Jason and Y/N’s relationship was like that of dragons in the old ages. Full of history and non-existent. 
Jason was already dead by the time Y/N had entered the Manor. A small body buried in the Wayne gravesite. In hindsight, Y/N’s timing had been awful. Moving in when Tim basically forced Batman to take him in as a Robin, Dick’s and Bruce’s relationship had worsened, Jason was dead for about a year, and Alfred had still been grieving. Truly a terrible time to join a family. Y/N could taste the tension when they had first moved in, and they understood immediately that they were just another unneeded burden. 
A 13-year-old Y/N cried in their bathroom, mourning their mother who had loved the fame more than them, the friends that loved Y/N for Y/N, and the life on the West Coast that they were now expected to continue on the East Coast. 
The unfairness of it all. 
“What do you want to talk about?” Y/N asked, rummaging through the drawers and finding a nice shirt and some nice jeans. 
“Hmm, oh you know, the casual how are you doing? How’s the model-life? Any fun stories you have? What have you been doing lately?” Y/N started changing in the bathroom, keeping the door cracked so they could hear the questions. 
When Y/N reemerged, now fully dressed and the robe hanging on the back of the door, they smiled at Jason, “I’m doing good, kind of tired but that's to be expected because of the ‘model-life.’ The fun stories I have are more of traveling around the world and seeing different cultures and eating good food. 
“As of late, I’ve been thinking about getting a cat.” Jason’s brow raised, “You travel though.” Y/N nodded, “Yeah, some models travel with their pets and I think that's what I plan to do. They’re easier to travel with than a dog, and I don’t think a dog would like my condo.” Jason nodded, “You could always leave it here. The little spawn would take care of it.” 
“I can’t do that to the family. It’s my pet and should be my responsibility.” Jason hummed, “Is it because you don’t want to visit?” The air stilled and blue eyes met E/C. Jason didn’t look bothered, if anything he seemed relaxed about the whole thing, “It’s fine if that's the reason. I hate being here too.” 
Jason came back as a dead person Y/N knew not to talk about. From the stairways, they would watch Jason storm out after a bad argument with Bruce. Unable to completely understand what exactly was going on, but from the hushed conversations they knew it was something they didn’t want to know about. 
“I don’t hate being here, I just don’t have reason to visit other than Alfred.” Jason continued to stare at them, “Not even for ‘family.’” 
“Jason, when have you ever looked at me and saw a sibling?” Jason didn’t banter with Y/N, never showed interest or any inclination that Y/N even existed. Y/N is pretty sure that to Jason, Y/N is just a stranger living in the manor. 
Y/N wonders if they will see Jason’s temper. Will it appear like the monster hidden in the closet, waiting for the right time to lash out at anything? Y/N has heard the screaming matches, the threats, the holes in the walls from Jason. For someone who has killed people, Y/N wonders if they should really be mucking around with Jason. 
When Y/N looks at Jason, they see the middle child of a family that had other priorities. Once upon a time, Jason was the youngest and loved by Bruce, but then younger Robins came. Jason died, and while never replaced, Robin was. 
When Y/N looks at Jason, they see the middle child of a family that Y/N is not a part of. 
They are not siblings. Not cousins, relatives, they are not even friends. Barely acquaintances if Y/N is honest. Which is fine. Y/N has gotten over the hurt and feelings of loneliness. 
It is just Y/N against the world, with Alfred partially in their corner. Not fully. Never fully because Alfred will always be in the Wayne family’s corner, and Y/N is not a Wayne. 
Jason sighed, “Mmm, I guess that night when you took a beating from that one dude for not getting in the car.” Y/N paused in brushing their hair, mind reeling and slowly turning their head to look at Jason who was instead picking at his nails. Y/N opened their mouth, but Jason beat them to it, “You went out partying, like almost every high schooler does, and your boyfriend was drunk.” 
“Just get in the car, Y/N!” 
“No! You’re drunk and you said you’d stay sober!” 
“I am sober, now get in the fucking car!” 
“Fuck off!” A 15-year-old Y/N stormed off, turning their back to Marcus Dueller, the then jock of the school. A rough hand grabbed their shoulder and a fist met their face, “You don’t talk to me like that.” 
“...Marcus wasn’t my boyfriend.” Jason didn’t show any signs of hearing Y/N, “You took a pretty bad beating, I’ll admit it. I was going to step in once he started choking you, but you took that brick to his head pretty hard.” 
Blood splattered across Y/N’s face as Marcus collapsed. The hands around their neck loosening and Y/N took deeply needed gasps of air. Their throat aching and lungs burning as they rolled over onto their hands and knees. Tears pricked their eyes as the pain and realization settled in. 
“I called his friends. He was fine, just a concussion.” Marcus and Y/N never talked again, and Marcus’s friends took one look at the bruises on Y/N’s face and neck to understand what had happened. 
They all stayed Marcus’s friends, because unlike Y/N, Marcus was loved by his family. 
“Then, you walked your beaten ass towards the liquor store.” 
“Oh my God! Y/N!” Stacey cried out in shock, and she gently cupped bruised cheeks and watched split lips grow into a smile. 
“Can I have that bottom shelf vodka please?” 
“Bitch, you need a second shelf from the bottom vodka.” They sat outside of the store, Stacey’s partner taking over the counter as she watched Y/N take swig after swig from the bottle. Her concerned eyes tracing over each and every bruise and cut, down to the clothes they were wearing and scrapes in their knees and hands. 
“How many does this make?” 
“Seven. Whoever said seven was a lucky number is a liar.” 
“Oh Y/N, why do you keep doing this?” Y/N gave Stacey the most beautiful they could muster. Not minding the ache in their cheeks or the burning of alcohol on split lips. 
Looking back at it, perhaps Y/N was on a downward spiral. Trying to find love in other people that weren’t the people at home. From ages 13 to 15, Y/N had dated over 9 people. Not one of them made it past two months, and none of them were healthy. 
Once Y/N got into modeling, all their attention went into it. Dating and friends were on a standstill as their career and education became a priority. Maybe that was another thing Y/N inherited from Bruce, a known serial dater. Although, Y/N knows for sure that their taste in partners was definitely inherited from their mother. 
Some of Y/N’s earliest memories are of M/N getting berated and smacked around by men bigger than her. When they would leave, Y/N would emerge with bandaids and tears on their face. M/N would smile at them, blood from her nose painting her lips red and she would cup soft cheeks and whisper in their ears- 
“Diamonds have never been made with gentle hands.” Y/N glared at Jason, who was meeting that glare head on. Now that they are older, Y/N has learned to hate that phrase. They have watched numerous models be in kind and gentle hands and still be beautiful. Still have a loving and healthy relationship with themselves and the other. 
Now that they are older, Y/N knows how untrue those words are. Yet, who said those words had to only be applied to romantic partners? 
“Now here you are, in your glass castle imitating diamonds.” Y/N’s nose scrunched, “Always the poet, reading the classics.” Jason shrugged, "Someone has to be literate in this messed up family. Sure as hell ain’t Bruce.” Y/N rolled their eyes, “So what? That still does not explain anything. More importantly, why now then?” Why was it now that they decided to make a move if they had supposedly been caring for a while now. 
Jason smirked, "Because finally, Bruce sees it too.” Y/N narrowed their eyes and watched with pursed lips as the bigger and stronger man got up from the bed, and walked over to them, “I’d wear comfortable shoes, Y/N. You’re going out with Bruce and the little spawn today.” 
“Wait, what do you mean Bruce finally sees it too? What is there to see?” Jason smiled at him, and it looked more of a monster preening at it’s prey. Callused hands reached up and traced the small, almost invisible scar on Y/N’s upper lip. 
“Make sure you smile, the vultures will be there too.” 
++++
“I do think green will look best on you.” Y/N smiled at Damian, “Green looks good everybody, Damian. You just need the right shade.” Between them was an emerald green silk shirt, the price displayed like a bounty and Y/N wanted to walk out of the store once they saw it. Yes, they made a lot of money, but Y/N also knows what it means to be frugal. 
Damian raised an eyebrow and continued to judge the piece as if it had insulted the family. Y/N set the shirt down and continued to peruse the aisles. Their eyes looking at all the clothing and trying to predict what will be in style. What could they use to match or create their own trend? It is still winter, meaning layers will still be necessary but how to make a stylish outfit when there needs to be layers. 
“Do you see anything you want, Y/N?” They jumped a bit, and whirled around to see Bruce smiling at them. Those blue eyes, intense like winter rivers, roamed over what Y/N was looking at and he raised a well groomed eyebrow, “Do you want that one?” 
“N-no, no thank you. I’m just looking.” Bruce hummed, and wrapped a large arm around Y/N’s bony shoulders and brought them close. He pressed his lips against his temple, an unusual act of affection towards his kids but everyone will chalk it up to Y/N being a model and still young. Bruce whispered against Y/N’s skin, “Just let me know what you want, and I will get it for you.” 
‘If I want to be left alone?’ Y/N didn’t voice it, but they didn’t have too. Bruce’s grin was sharp, “Within reason, Y/N.” A chill ran down Y/N’s spine and they swallowed down the bile threatening to come up. 
“I have money, Bruce. I can buy my own stuff.” Bruce picked up a shirt, “Let me spoil you. It is what parents do.” 
“You already paid off my condo, that is good enough.” Bruce continued to smile, “That was for the birthdays and holidays I missed while you were with us. I still have to make up for the time when you were with your mother.”  Y/N wanted to scream, “How about you donate that then?” 
Bruce smiled, “I already do. Let me spoil you.” He kissed Y/N’s temple once more before walking away, eyeing everything the way designers did when critiquing their pieces. Y/N had a feeling that if they didn’t get something from here, the store would be paying the price. Grabbing a sheer halter top and pair of black high waisted pants, Y/N let Damian throw the green top on the small pile and made their way to the check out. The cashier smiled nervously as the Wayne family stood in front of her. 
True to Bruce’s promise, he paid for the three articles of clothes, the pair of shoes, the jewelry, the accessories, the–
“I think that is enough.There are a lot of bags, and while I appreciate it, I really don’t need anymore stuff.” Y/N placated Bruce and Damian, already picturing the amount of trips it will be to take everything back home. The man seemed satisfied though, smiling and shrugging his shoulders, “If you insist. How about some lunch now?” 
Y/N wanted to decline. They wanted to go back to the manor and get away from everybody. The feeling of walking on eggshells and constantly being watched had their skin crawling and the need to take another bath. Bruce wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder and brought them close, and Damian took up their other side. 
“You’re acting more as a bodyguard than a father it seems.” Bruce smiled, “We’re having a nice family outing. I’d hate it if one of your ‘followers’ interrupted." Y/N furrowed their brow, but they could not stop their body from tensing, “Someone is following us?” 
“Unfortunately.” The photos they saw in their old room re-emerged and a feeling of dread seized their muscles, making them lean further into Bruce. Yes, they were once all Robins, but not once in those photos taken from their terrace was there ever a reflection of the Bat. 
“It’s okay Y/N, I’ll make sure they won’t take any of you.” 
“How… how do you know its not you they want a photo of?” Bruce smiled, guiding them into a fancy restaurant, Damian requesting a table away from the windows, "Because they all know not to follow me.” There was something akin to a warning in Bruce’s voice that had Y/N biting their lips and following the wait staff quietly. 
Y/N watched as Damian and Bruce conversed casually, well, as casually as Damian can be. The topics went from school, a family named the Kents, and future prospects. Damian was still unsure about what exactly it is he wanted to do, and it most likely didn’t help that Tim was the one who was going to take over Wayne Enterprises. 
Y/N continued to eat and sip their tea, not wanting to add to anything as their mind wandered. After talking to Jason, it proved to Y/N that they were somewhat always being watched. Jason bringing up that one specific memory may have made Y/N’s heart rate spike, but it did prove that Jason was there. The photos, all of them that were taken without Y/N’s consent, show that everyone had at some point gained interest. 
However, why did they never act on it? Why wait until now to do something? 
‘Bruce finally sees it too.’ Y/N’s jaw clenched, what does Bruce have to do with any of this? Could they not interact without Bruce’s permission? Alfred would never allow that. 
Would he? 
“What do you think, Y/N?” The question jolted Y/N out of their thoughts and back into reality. Looking around the table to two expectant gazes, they gave an apologetic smile, “Sorry. I was thinking about something, what was the question?” 
Damian scrunched his nose, “What is there to think about when you have blood-related family members in front of you?” Y/N blinked in shock, and then remembered how much blood meant to Damian. They shrugged, “I have a busy schedule coming up.” 
Bruce stabbed the piece of steak with the silver fork, “You do, don’t you.” He stared at his child, one who he has left to their own devices and now is estranged from the family. Always keeping them at arms length, and never looking back to see if they are behind them. Not because Y/N trusts them to be, but because Y/N was used to them not being there. 
Y/N, for how proud Bruce is of them for standing on their own, is still naive. Still innocent. They didn’t notice the paparazzi lurking around, or maybe they got so used to them they learned to block them out. None of it sat right with Bruce. Those should have been things he taught Y/N. Things to prepare Y/N for a world that was bathed in camera flashes and gossip. How to look out for themselves. How to defend themselves, and what to do in case there is a stalker. Those should have been at least a fraction of what Bruce taught them. 
Yet, he never did any of that. Looking at Y/N sitting across from him, sitting tall and with a closed-off expression, had Bruce frowning. Y/N was still polite, smiled when they needed to and engaged in conversation, but there was still a wall between them. Almost like glass. Bruce is able to see everything and hear almost everything, but his ability to interact with his child is limited. All interactions stopped by the wall of glass put up by Y/N themselves. 
It's a good thing that Batman breaks glass windows on a daily basis. 
“You have some shoots in New York, will you be visiting afterwards?” Bruce watched Y/N’s eyes widen and lips pursed. He could see the breaking point, cracks spreading throughout the glass as Y/N’s mind tried to wrap around the question. 
“How–” 
“Is it odd for a parent to know their child’s schedule?” Y/N blinked, and processed the information. A tight smile formed on their lips, “How long have you known my schedule?” Bruce took a bite of the steak and Damian continued to eat his plate of some fancy pasta.
“Now Y/N-” 
“How long have you known my schedule?” Damian glanced up, irritated at their father being cut off, but the look on Bruce’s face had him settling down. The man was smiling, non-threateningly but all Y/N could see was the Bruce that had stood before them in the changing room after Gabanna’s runway show. The same eyes, full of intentions that had Y/N shivering and the money, power, and background to act on those intentions. 
“Like I have said, Y/N. I am making up for the lost time and neglect you have faced within our home.” 
“And I have said, Bruce, there is nothing to make up. That still does not answer my question about you knowing my schedule.” The cracks were spreading, chipping away and becoming weaker. 
“What parent doesn’t know-” 
“Don’t repeat that sentence. Bruce, you know what I am asking and you keep avoiding it. Who told you my schedule?” An emotion other than faux politeness finally filtered into Y/N’s voice, making the question sound firm and unlikely to bend or be swept away with Bruce’s elusivity. He smiled, “Oh Y/N, did Maya not tell you? GLM Agency has been under new agency since last year. Wayne Industries is now the parent of GLM Agency.” 
Y/N stared at Bruce in confusion, their pretty face twisting as the words registered with them. Everything crashed on Y/N, like glass shattering and bathing them in their shards. The guest room that is identical to their bedroom at home, the clothes that are from their closet, the two rooms full of their photos and mannequins wearing their iconic looks, that fucking Batman-inspired piece of clothing. 
“Y/N.” They’re walking away from the table, head lost in thought and body moving on autopilot. The need to get away from everyone was overpowering the logical part of their mind, and Y/N is walking towards the front door of the restaurant. Pushing the glass doors open, and being bombarded by flashes from cameras. 
“Y/N, what do you have to say about your mother?” A 13-year-old Y/N was guided out of the condo by police officers. Eyes rimmed red from crying and their only source of comfort was the blanket they managed to snag before being escorted out. 
“Were you aware of your mother’s drug-use?” 
“Are you on drugs?” A 17-year-old Y/N walked past the paparazzi, keeping their eyes forward even though they wanted to snarl at that person. 
“Y/N! Look over here!” 
“Look!”
“Over here!”  
A large hand gripped their arm guided Y/N through the crowd and towards the parking lot where the car was. The large body blocking the photos and shielding them from the flashing of cameras that had thrown Y/N back in time. Once inside the safety of the metal box on wheels, Y/N became aware of their rapid breathing and the feeling of their heart pounding. Irregular beats and sweat began to form on their skin as they struggled to take a breath. Just one breath.
The hand that had guided them to the car grabbed their wrist and placed it on a large and firm chest, emphasizing the deep breaths that Y/N needed and wanted to take. Rough fingers gently traced their cheek, up to their ear, and then to their hair. Gently bringing Y/N back to the present. 
“Shh shh, it’s okay Y/N. It’s okay. You’re safe.” E/C eyes drifted around the car, and closed once they saw the person’s reflection. 
“Father, those vermin have been cleared. All of them will be getting in trouble.” 
“Thank you, Damian.” Y/N rested their head against the glass and fought down the need to jump out of the car. Bruce eyed Y/N, and what made it worse was there was an apologetic look on his face. 
“Y/N, I… I am sorry. I thought Maya had told you.” 
“Seems like your manager isn’t doing their job if you didn’t know. You should get a new one.” 
“Don’t talk about her like that,” Y/N mumbled, feeling a headache forming and they wanted nothing more than to curl under the covers and die. They could feel Damian’s pointed look through the seat, “Maya is a great manager. She will not be replaced.” Damian sneered, “She didn’t even inform you of the change in ownership.” 
“Because it does not concern me. As long as I am able to get booked and get to my destinations, it does not matter who is in charge.” Y/N paused, “Although, now it looks like nepotism.” 
Bruce huffed at his child’s overdramaticness, "It's not nepotism. I had no say in what shows you did or who booked them.” 
“But you had a say in what clothes I wore.” Ice filled the car and Bruce gave Y/N a long look. 
“Just that one piece, and I asked her to do it. She didn’t have to do it.” Y/N laughed, long and hollow as they turned their head to Bruce, “Of course she had to do it. Bruce Wayne is asking for a commission piece, who would turn it down without risking their reputation?” The man sighed, “Y/N, I submitted a commission piece. That is the only thing I had a hand in throughout your modeling career.” 
“Others won’t believe that.” 
“Who cares what others think.” Y/N whipped their head around to Damian, “I do. I do a lot actually. I care a lot about what my fellow models say and think about me.” The boy rolled his eyes, “Why? Their opinions don’t matter.” 
“And your’s do?” 
“We are family!” 
“By blood, yeah! That’s as far as it goes.” Damian looked ready to snarl out more remarks, but the abrupt parking of the car had both of them pausing. They were already at the manor, and Y/N wondered just how fast was Bruce driving to get them here so quickly. 
Y/N was quick to jump out of the car, “I will grab those bags later. Please don’t make Alfred take them.” Bruce followed, “Y/N.” 
“No! No, ‘Y/N’ or anything. I want to be left alone.” Y/N pushed open the manor’s front door, and they wonder how many times they have snuck in and out of these doors before. Was it really even sneaking out if someone knew? 
“Y/N, we need to talk about this.” There was something in Bruce’s voice that stoked the right ember within Y/N’s chest. Whipping around, they glared at the two Waynes, “For fuck’s sake, I just want to be left alone! I was fine with how things were. None of this-this- whatever the hell this is! 
I was fine on my own. I was fine without you guys. I would have been fine if you stayed away!” Bruce didn’t even look bothered that Y/N was yelling, in fact the asshole looked relieved. He gave a patient smile with fake concern in those blue eyes, “The thing is though Y/N, you never should have done it on your own.” 
Y/N rolled their eyes, “Where the hell did all of this even come from?! This… this sudden need to be part of my life? You’re not even being subtle about it!” They were drawing a crowd, but Y/N couldn’t even bring themselves to care. 
“I keep telling you, it does. Not. Bother. Me that you all were inattentive. It doesn’t make me mad, it doesn’t make me upset, it doesn’t stir anything within me knowing you were not there. Yet here you are trying to make it up and all that nonsense, but when I tell you that it's fine you don’t listen!
“It genuinely seems that you are not doing this for me, but to ease your guilt.” Bruce met Y/N’s gaze, and it appeared they were in their own little showdown. Bruce’s gaze, not showing a hint of anger or irritation at his child while Y/N seethed. For once, Y/N looked liked the wild one in the family. Their teeth bared and eyes full of unadulterated rage, they glared at Bruce with the face of a raging angel. 
They hated how Bruce’s lips pulled into a smile, and the feeling of gloating eyes falling on their body from all their siblings. Like they all knew something Y/N didn’t. 
“Bruce finally sees it too.” 
Y/N pocketed that thought, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down. Nothing intelligent was ever said when angry– 
“So tell your big brother Y/N, how do you expect us to trust you on your own when you can’t even notice someone on your terrace?” 
– Fuck it. Intense E/C eyes landed back on Bruce, “If you bought GLM Agency a year ago, why now?” Bruce continued to stare into Y/N’s eyes, “Because it seemed like you needed a break from Gotham. So, I figured a year away would be good.” 
Y/N narrowed their gaze, “Then why didn’t you call?” 
“Because it looked like you needed a break.” Y/N chuckled, “I needed a break, or you needed time to get those rooms set up?” Bruce raised a brow, but Y/N continued on, “It's one thing to have photos from some photoshoots but not photos taken without my consent. Or the clothes I’ve worn on mannequins with almost the exact same physique as me.” 
“They are exact.” Y/N tore their gaze away from Bruce to stare at Tim, the thin and exhausted looking teen standing above them on the stairway. Chapped lips opened, “We used the measurements within the modeling database and created mannequins that have your exact measurements.” 
Y/N gaped at him for a quick second before rolling their eyes, “Wow. That’s not helping your guys’ case at all.” Dick approached them, going for a placating gesture and an easy smile, “Now Y/N, I think you might be overreacting–” 
“I think I am underreacting to all of this. I find out that you all have been taking secret photos of me, which someone them are from my ‘stalker’ and I don’t really believe that but whatever, you have access to my bank account, you bought the modeling agency I work for, commissioned a Batman-inspired piece, and that you have been keeping some of runway pieces on models that are exactly my measurements!
How else am I supposed to be reacting?! And I still don’t have my phone back!” Y/N snapped at Dick, and then began to rub their temples when the headache got worse. An Aspirin, they need an Aspirin. Now, preferably but Y/N has the strangest sense that even if they did take it, the headache would not go away. 
“Whatever, just… I’m going home tomorrow and whatever was bought today just… just ship it. Since you know my address and all that apparently.” Y/N began walking up the stairs, ignoring the panicked looks some of their ‘siblings’ were giving them and the dark look on Bruce’s face. 
Dick, ever the peacemaker, reached out, “Wait, you can’t go back yet! You still have a few more weeks before your next shoot. Just stay for a few more days.” 
“Add kidnapping and being held against my will to that list too.” Y/N continued walking, feeling exhausted and wanting to sleep. They missed the nod Bruce gave Tim and Damian, and they missed the dark and knowing looks on Jason’s and Dick’s face. The walk back to the room was long, and more exhausting than usual. The events of today caught up to them and Y/N wanted nothing more than to cry, scream, and then go to sleep. 
Because why not. 
“Y/N, you are making a mistake.” Dick followed after their younger sibling, who only sped up to get away from them. The man grabbed Y/N’s forearm, “Y/N, listen! You don’t want to do this.” 
“What is ‘this’ you are talking about Dick? I am literally just going home. It is not a big deal.” Y/N tried to pull their arm away from Dick, but to no avail. 
“It's how you are doing it Y/N. All we want is to spend time with you and make up for the lost time!” Y/N wanted to scream at Dick, but held it in and instead gritted out, “Why didn’t you do it normally then? Like… texting or calling.” Dick pouted, those blue eyes looking sad and his lower lip jutting out like a toddler, “We missed you, and we just wanted to see you.” 
Y/N’s face was scrunched, their mouth open in disgust, “How can you say that with that look on your face as if you all weren’t the ones who ignored me?” Dick looked heartbroken and some part of Y/N felt bad about that. They remembered the room with the photos and the other side of Dick that they saw only a few days ago. Their body seized in terror, but Y/N tried to keep their expression neutral. 
“Look, Dick, once again I am not mad about how my time here was spent. I’m genuinely not. But you guys keep throwing it back in my face and saying such contradicting things, of course I’m going to get upset about it.” They are trying to be civil. Trying so desperately to be civil and it feels like it is not working. Old wounds and painful memories continued to be dragged out of the crevices of their minds like it was some type of zoo attraction. 
A 16-year-old Y/N stared at the shattered mirror, tears racing down their face as they stared at their broken reflection. All they could see were the imperfections everyone continued to call out. Comparing them to their mother, to other models, to society’s twisted views of beauty that Y/N is trying to be. 
If their mother was alive, would she know what to say? Would she gaze at them with those soft eyes and long lashes, smiling beautifully and whispering, “Diamonds have never been made with gentle hands.” Continuing to remind Y/N that modeling was not a gentle job. It wasn’t a job for those with paper skin or glass bones. Those easily hurt by the meanest of comments, nastiest looks, and the horrendous words never made it in this industry.
Would this have been easier if they had the support of Bruce and his kids? 
Labored breaths and broken sobs filled room-turned-practice room as the mirrors caught the sight of a teenager breaking down. Crumbling and shattering under the pressure, pricking their fingers as they cleaned up the broken mirror and picking up their shattered image. 
It will be those same mirrors that watched those broken shards form their glass castle, posing as diamonds to deter others from trying to break in. 
Y/N continued to walk down the long hallway, ignoring Dick’s calls and locking the door behind them. It was only 2pm, and Y/N had plans to sleep the rest of the day. They had no bags to pack, and nothing here they felt like taking. All they needed to do is sleep the day away, which will be easy, wake up tomorrow, call a cab and skedaddle out of here. 
“Thats all we have to do, Y/N.” They closed their eyes for what only felt like a few minutes, until jostling and whispers of their name had them groggily opening their eyes. A yawn escaping them and their eyes struggled to open. 
“Why are you in my room?” Tim gave a small huff, “Its dinner time.” Y/N buried their face in their pillow, groaning out a ‘not hungry.’ The young man hummed, “I think you should come down for this one, Y/N. You might get the answers you want.” 
“Not interested.” Tim leaned down, his breath tickling Y/N’s ear, “You’re glass castle is shattering, Y/N. Don’t you want help fixing it?” Y/N wanted to swing. They wanted to do something to get their point across that they wanted almost nothing to do with this crazy family anymore. 
They opted to glare, and Tim gave a soft smile, “C’mon, lets go eat. Besides, Alfred said that the cab won’t be coming for you if you don’t eat dinner.” 
“Alfie!” Y/N groaned into the pillow, and they had stopo themselves from throwing up their arms and legs in a fit. Leave it to Alfred to do something so diabolical. Groaning one more time, Y/N sat up and mentally braced themselves for this shitshow of a dinner. 
E/C eyes looked at the door they know they locked, and chose that whatever little bickerment that will start was not worth it at this point in time. Throwing their legs over the bed, they followed Tim out of the room and towards the dining room. 
Everyone was there, and waiting for Y/N to appear. Once again, they were made to sit between Bruce and Damian, which they did so with little complaint. 
“Now, Y/N, it looks like everyone has some explaining to do.” Y/N gave Bruce the driest most unimpressed face they could muster, to which the man took with a smile, “So, what questions do you want answered?” 
‘They’re really doing this.’ Y/N could feel another headache forming, but decided to take the brightly colored bait. Looking at Jason, who was meeting their gaze with his green eyes waiting for this question, Y/N asked, “What did you mean when you said ‘Bruce sees it too.’” The man smirked, meeting Bruce’s eyes and back to Y/N, “Exactly that. The old man finally sees what you are to this messed up family.” 
Y/N narrowed their gaze, taking a bite of the pasta, and chewing slowly. Dick decided to chime in, “Y/N, you have been loved by us for a while. Something you probably pieced together, but Bruce took a while to see it because… well because you’re not us.” 
“Not like, you’re not Robin, but more like you’re not…” 
“You’re fragile.” Everyone’s head turned to Damian, and Y/N had half the idea to be upset about that. They raised an eyebrow, but before they could say anything Damian continued, “You are not meant for this life we lead. Vigilantism never suited you, and that is something I picked up on when I first came here.” 
When Damian had first met Y/N, it was like seeing a rare flower that had to be protected at all costs. Y/N was something that at the slightest gesture, could be hurt. When people come across something ethereal like that, the need to protect it can be divided into two different directions. 
Hovering or distancing. 
Bruce chose to distance himself, whether he knew it or not, and Damian had followed suit. He watched as his older sibling hovered from a distance, watching the rare flower bloom before it was finally the right time to engage with it. 
“Y/N, it isn’t so much that I didn’t want to interact with you, it is that I didn’t know how.” Bruce looked into his child’s eyes, “How could I interact with someone who needed gentle hands, when there is not a gentle bone in my body.” Bruce’s hands have broken more bones than the human body has. He has scars on his skin and calluses on the palm of his hands. 
“It took me a while to figure out why, but once I did, your absence became suffocating.” Everyone had been gasping for air, doing everything in their power for the slightest piece of oxygen. It was the fear of Y/N being harmed that kept them collared and chained to the photos, every interview, every runway show. 
However, Bruce knows that every now and then, children should be able to spread their wings and fall. Y/N ended up flying, soaring above them and never looking back down. Bruce, and the family, decided to give Y/N a year. Just one on their own. This gave them all plenty of time to improve the glass terrarium that they wanted Y/N to be placed back in. This time they will be protected and paid attention too. 
“When everyone stated that I can finally see the impact you have on this family, it means I have to come to terms with the fact that I no longer want to be hands off with your life and career.” Y/N’s brow furrowed, not liking the term ‘hands off.’ 
“You have done great on your own. A fabulous job. Clawing your way up and making a name for yourself, I am so proud of you. Everyone is extremely proud of you. 
However, there is no need for you to struggle anymore. You’ve proven yourself, now let us take care of the rest.” Y/N felt shivers go down their spine as they stared at their family in fear. They took in each expression, and when they made eye contact with Jason, the other had a daring look in his eyes. Begging for Y/N to do something, similar to how predators hope for their prey to fight back to make the kill all the more interesting. 
“But… But I don’t need your help, Bruce. I can do this on my own.” Bruce’s smile was that of honey, luring in unsuspecting insects and trapping them in its viscous fluid. If Y/N were younger, they may have fallen for it. They may have allowed themselves to coat their fingers in sugary words and sweet gestures, just so they could feel the love from a father. 
“I know. We know, but you don’t need to anymore.” 
“Now wait a minute-no. No no no no. You can’t just do that, explain yourself, and expect me to just roll with it.” Y/N set their napkin down, and tried to stand from the table, “I don’t need your help, although thank you for wanting to I guess. I am fine with it just being me and Maya.” 
“About that…” Dick grimaced, handing Y/N his phone and pulled up was an article. 
Y/N’s eyes widened and the world around them went cold. THey looked back up, “You’re lying.” Dick shook his head, fake empathy across his face as Y/N continued to read the article.
“No. NO this is a joke and a terrible one. Maya would never–” 
“They were found in her apartment, Y/N.” The headlines, eerily similar to ones from five year ago, flashed across the small phone screen. 
Manager of Model Y/N L/N Suspected of Drug Usage
Y/N wanted to cry. Horrible flashbacks resurfacing and tears pricking their eyes. They turned to Bruce who was still sitting and eating his pasta.
“Bruce, please. I know Maya, she would never do this.” The man said nothing. Y/N bit their lip, “Bruce… Bruce please. If its because of what I said then take that out on me. Please leave Maya out of it.
“Please Bruce! I know Maya. She’d never do that, and–and Bruce please.” Y/N was whimpering now, tears streaming down their face as the thought of losing their manager, the last person they had, nearly had them collapsing to their knees. 
“Lets make a deal, Y/N.” Bruce wiped the corner of his lips, and grabbed Y/N’s thin wrist. 
“You come home more often, during breaks and whatnot. I won’t have a lot of control over your modeling schedule, but make sure you include time each week for family. The only exception is when you are out of the country.” Y/N stared at Bruce in confusion, but nodded along. 
“In return, Maya gets out of trouble. Nothing will change other than the weekly meeting with family.”  Y/N can’t breathe. They cannot breathe and there were eyes all on them. Gulping down on whatever air they can get a hold of, Y/N sobbed out, “Why are you going to such lengths?” 
Bruce stood, and even though Y/N is tall, no one compares to Bruce’s towering figure. He smiled down at the model, and cupped a wet cheek with a calloused hand. Ice blue eyes stared into watery E/C eyes, and that smile turned too sharp to not be hidden blade, “I told you. It is too make up for lost time. Plus, as those photos suggest, you need protection. What better protection could you have that is not only part of the family, but also vigilantes?
“While it is true that diamonds are never made without pressure, diamond-encrusted jewlery require gentle hands and patience.” Bruce kissed Y/N’s temple, and the model flinched away. Ice blue met their eyes once more, “Now pick, Y/N. Either way, you will still be meeting us once a week, but you can have someone you know at your side or someone under my command.” 
+++++
“And cut! Good job everyone!” The flashes from the camera stopped and the stage lighting turned off, no longer blinding everyone within the room. Y/N stood up from the red couch, a smile still on their lips as they thanked the photographers. 
“Y/N, as always, perfect shots!” 
“Good job Y/N!” 
“Thank you for doing this, Y/N!” They continued to smile and acknowledge everyone that passed by, Maya right behind as they walked back to the changing room. Sitting on the couch was Jason’s large form and Tim’s lithe one. Both of them looking up as Y/N entered, ignoring Maya’s flinch. 
“You have a birthday gala you need to catch. Come on, change out of that and lets go.” Leave it to Jason to get the message across. Y/N nodded, taking to the changing room where they know their clothes are already waiting for them. They could hear Tim interrogating Maya in the politist way. Clipped words and empty praises. 
“Y/N they came out of nowhere! They stormed in and went straight to a vent where these-these drugs were! I’ve never even seen those there before! Let alone know that there was a vent!” Maya cried into Y/N’s shoulder as Dick and Damian watched on. 
Emerging from the changing room in jeans and a crew neck, Y/N sighed, “Alright, shall we get going?” Jason stood up and Tim shook Maya’s sweaty hand. Y/N gave his manager a nod, signalling for her to take the rest of the day off. Jason’s large hand rested on the small of Y/N’s back, and Tim led the way to the new car that Bruce bought. 
The ride was only two hours, filled with light conversation and catching up. Once at the mansion, Y/N greeted Alfred with a hug. Not as tight as they normally are, but it felt wrong entering the mansion without hugging Alfred. Bruce entered the foyer and grinned, hugging Y/N and kissing their temple. 
“Your clothes are in your room, and there is another present on behalf of Damian and Jason.” Y/N nodded, “Thanks, Bruce.” The man smiled, “Come and eat dinner when you are done. We’ll have enough time before the Gala to at least eat something.” Y/N began walking away, each step up the stairs feeling like there was lead on their feet stopping them from going any further. 
Once in the room, the locked the door and on the bed was a box and black and gold clothing. The black looking like it was made out of silk, and the gold was sequin. Y/N carefully walked towards the box, and when they lifted the lid, a white kitten mewed at them. Their fur still looking young and their eyes bluer than Bruce’s. They mewed and mewed, and Y/N could feel tears streaming down their face. 
In neat cursive and tied around the bow of the box, was a small note, ‘We’ll watch her when you decide to leave the country.’ 
Y/N bit their lip, and felt as if their world was falling a part once more. Broken glass surrounding them and no matter where they stepped, their feet will end up bleeding. Now forced to rely on their family to carry them out of the mess they made, and now… now there was a lifeform that this family can and most likely will use against them.  
Thin fingers gently picked up the cat and gave it a wobbly smile, as she mewed at Y/N. A red collar already around her neck, tied in a perfect bow. 
“Y/N, the makeup artists are here. Are you ready?” Wiping their tears, Y/N set the kitten down and took in the black and gold piece once more. 
“Not yet, but they can come in. I’ll get dressed afterwards.” 
“Alright.” The door opened, despite Y/N locking it, and it was Dick smiling as he let in the two artists who were now scrambling to get set up. Blue eyes traveled from the cat, to the clothes, and back to Y/N. He grinned and stalked closer to his younger sibling that was now being corralled into sitting in front of the makeup artist. 
He picked up the kitten and passed her for Y/N to hold, whispering in their ears, “Happy Birthday, Y/N.” 
______________________________________________________________
Honestly... I really like this series. I think I'm going to do other stories but in the other characters POV now.
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hotnbloodied · 7 months ago
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Hiyaaaa can I request a stalker yan x enabling gn reader🪼could it be smut if possible
I went a little haywire with this one, I hope it meets your expectations dear~
(PLEASE BE EXTRA CAUTIOUS OF TAGS FOR THIS ONE!!!)
I'm still not too sure about how to feel about writing smut (I'm actually not a big fan of it) but as long as everyone enjoys it thank you ^^
-˚ʚ♡ɞ˚HB˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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Stalker!Yan X Pushover!Reader (!!SMUT!!)
!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion. I do not support or encourage these destructive behaviors in real life.
CW: not proof read, yous/yours used, gn reader, SEX, sloppy lewd writing, implied stalking, saliva, yandere behaviors, delusional thoughts, dub-con, obsessive behavior (LMK if I'm missing anything.)
!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!
(PLEASE BE EXTRA CAUTIOUS OF TAGS FOR THIS ONE!!!)
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It all started with a simple act of helping him pick up the paperwork that you accidentally knocked out of his hands. No one had helped him before, much less make conversation with him due to how he looks and holds himself. Perpetual hunch, unkempt hair, deep dark eye bags and a slight stutter. This guy was a mess, but the company kept him because his work ethic is near perfection. Back to the papers you were helping him pick up, you offered to carry half with him to where he needed to go and he offered to treat you to lunch, “i-it’s the least I can do for helping me,” he reasons. You couldn’t turn down, “well, if you’re sure, I am getting pretty hungry since it’s lunch time already,” you reason.
Though, you didn’t expect him to get so chatty during lunch. It felt like he was asking your ear off with questions. “How’s work been for you?” “How is your family?” “Do you have any hobbies?” “Favorite shows? Movies?” Admittedly, you couldn’t wait for lunch to be over but even when you wanted to say goodbye, to get back to work, he asks for your phone number. Wanting to just go already you hurriedly gave it to him.
Little did you know that he would be texting you everyday, perhaps even every hour. Not wanting to be rude you responded when you could. Soon you were seeing him outside of work, not willingly but whenever you would be trying to run errands or even just out and about. Grocery shopping? He suddenly appeared and offered to push your cart and even load your bags into your car. At the mall? He just so happened to be needing to get a birthday gift for a family member so why don’t he shop around with you, even though when you were leaving he walked you to your car with his hands empty. Just taking a walk in the park? What a coincidence, he loves this park! A walk is better with someone else right? You didn’t bring up how weirdly coincidental it was that he happened to be wherever you were, you didn’t want to deal with confrontation. Which led you to the state of you and his relationship as it is these days.
He started hanging out with you in your apartment, he had one day asked if he could come over to your place to hang out for the weekend. “We could hang out and watch a movie, I’ll even make dinner for us. Unless you want to come over to my place?” You weakly try to give the excuse that your apartment is a mess but he even offers to clean it and you didn’t really want to go over to his place so you agreed to hang out with him at yours.
True to his word, he cleans your apartment but it wasn’t even that dirty in the first place since it was just an excuse. He goes on to make dinner, it was exactly to your taste like he knew and even cleans up afterward. When it came to the movie it was whatever looked good on the streaming service, you’ve been wanting to watch a certain movie that was recently released so he agreed to it too. Not too long into the movie you notice him moving closer to you, your heart rate raises with each proceeding inch until finally your shoulders are touching. Even if you wanted to scoot away, you were already on the edge of your couch. In a fluid motion he rests his arm on your shoulders causing you to look at him. He looks you in the eyes and leans in for a kiss. You instinctively used your hands to stop him from leaning closer and he looked at you with wide eyes.
“Do you not want this?” He asks with a bit of hurt in his voice. Flustered, you replied, “I just think it’s too soon for this.” He smiles and takes your hands in his, “it’s okay, we’re just having a little fun after all. No strings attached.” Something about the last statement didn’t feel right but you don’t say anything so he takes it as you agreeing with him and leans in for a kiss again. You close your eyes as your lips connect and you can feel him sigh as he continuously pecks kisses on your lips. Soon after you feel something wet probing at your lips and it surprises you enough to open them. His tongue invades your mouth and you feel his grasp on your body tighten as he explores your mouth with his tongue.
Breaking from the kiss only for air, it doesn’t stop him from tasting you like he was a thirsty man and you were an oasis in the desert. His tongue rolls over your cheeks and jawline working down to your neck leaving you covered in saliva. He sucks and licks the sensitive skin of your jugular making heat form in your lower regions. He nudges to take off your top and you allow him a full view of your chest. He wastes no time and continues to suck on your collarbone area, the whole thing feels weird and warm and slimy but you didn’t want to stop him since you believe it was too late for that. Suddenly you feel your nipples get pinched and you jerk backwards. “You’re so cute, and so sensitive just for me,” he coos. He continues to suck and play with your nipples until your brain seems to go fuzzy from the pleasure and all that’s escaping your lips are sounds of moans, whines and whimpers. He chuckles, “you’ve been grinding against me for a while, do you want it?” Did you? You didn’t even notice until he said so. “Let’s go ahead and get these off okay?” He nudges at your pants now and he watches as you slowly take them off.
He gulps at your completely nude form now, “you’re everything I dreamed off and more.” You flushed at his words. Before you could say anything he went down on you causing you to yelp. He licked and sucked and slurped like his life depended on it. He almost got you to cum but stopped much to your dismay. “No need to pout darling, we’ll be coming undone together.” It was his turn to undress, his member stood proudly over your entrance. Something in you knew deep down that if you let him go the whole way that there would be no turning back even if he said no strings attached, but another part of you just doesn’t care. He turns you around and slowly enters you from behind and you gasp as you grip your sofa cushions from the intrusion. It doesn’t take long for the speed to pick up and he’s pounding you into your sofa making an absolute mess of you. Soon the both of you climax and he’s covering your back with his seed.
You’re too exhausted to move but that’s okay! He already knows where you keep your towels so he goes and gets some to clean you up. After doing so, he guides your arm over his shoulder and leads you to your bedroom. You fall asleep, too tired to stay awake. “You’re more ethereal in person when you’re sleeping than a screen could ever capture,” he kisses your forehead before drifting off to sleep himself, with you finally in his grasp.
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Part 2
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darylssunshine · 8 months ago
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daryl x reader
“whoa hey, you’re bleeding.” reader maybe not realizing it until she looks down. falling into his arms and daryl callin for help. whump whump whumppp . set at the prison ?
Family
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word count: 1.1k
a/n: finally getting into the swing of things with requests. hope you enjoy anon <3
~~~
The sounds of people yelling and the banging of chain link fences echoed throughout the prison courtyard. You jabbed your knife through yet another walker, grunting as you pushed it through its thick skull. You, along with everyone else in your small group, including Carl, had been at this for at least an hour now, but it was necessary to keep the prison safe. Still, the constant stabbing motion had your upper arm aching. Probably acid and bile rising up from your stomach, too.
“I got the last one!” Glenn called out from the middle of the formation, sticking his knife right in the middle of the walker’s eye. Audible sighs of relief could be heard from the group, along with a victory ‘whoop’ from Carl. Standing right beside you, Daryl was flicking the excess undead blood from his knife and his hands, wiping the rest on his pants. He shaked a stray hair out of his eye then wiped a hand down his face, sighing and sheathing his now blood-free knife. 
“Jesus. Glad that’s over. Can’t wait to do that again tomorrow.” He scoffed, leaning against the fence and stretching his overused right arm.
“I know, right? My arm is killing me. Gonna have to… ” You trailed off, suddenly feeling a wave of dizziness wash over you. You leaned your arm against the fence for support and lowered your head, squeezing your eyes shut. 
Daryl stopped leaning against the fence and took a cautious step forward towards you. “Hey, you okay?” 
You immediately snapped your gaze back up to the archer, desperately trying to seem like you had your shit together. “Yep. Yeah. I’m okay.” You placed your free hand on your hip to simulate normality. That’s when Daryl looked you up and down and his eyes suddenly went wide.
“Woah, woah, woah, hey, hey! Yer bleedin’!!” He quickly stepped toward you, glancing down sporadically. 
You placed your hand on your stomach, discovering the right side was wet and sticky. It was, in fact, blood.
“Fuckin’ damn it.” You mumble, before going limp and falling into Daryl’s arms, him catching you by the armpits. 
His heart immediately started racing when he caught you and layed you carefully on the dying grass. The few that surrounded you stepped back to give you some space. He instantly got on his knees and inspected your injuries, praying to whatever deity was listening that you hadn’t gotten bit. After a string of mumbled expletives, he shouted, “I need some fuckin’ help over here!” To no one in particular, his frantic eyes never leaving your closed ones.
What he didn’t see happening behind him was Rick rushing to get Hershel, while Maggie and Glenn hurriedly grabbing a makeshift stretcher and bringing it to wear you laid. He quickly got to his feet and helped you onto the stretcher. He was by your side the entire time and throughout all of the noise and chaos, you could swear you could hear Daryl whispering, “They’re gonna be fine. They’re gonna be fine.”
You groggily opened your eyes and instantly felt a stinging on your right side. The events of the past hour flooded back, and you wince. You cautiously felt the area, and thankfully you felt a clean bandage.
Judging by the beige ceiling and the firm yet surprisingly comfortable mattress you were on, you had been placed in Hershel’s room. You slowly moved your head to the side, expecting to be met with an equally beige wallpaper, but to your surprise, you were met with a sleeping, hot headed, brunette, redneck.
He was spread out in a chair he had brought from the dining room. His head was lolled towards you, his hair in his eyes and snoring quite loud. You smiled, heart slightly skipping a beat at the thought of him not wanting to leave your side.
“Hey.” You rasped, cringing at your own voice. 
Daryl, being a naturally light sleeper, immediately blinked awake. It took a second for the fog of sleep to leave his brain, but it left fast when he realized that you were awake. That you were alive.
“Holy fuck. (Y/N.) Hey. How’re ya feelin’?” He rambled, scooting the chair closer to the bed and sitting on the edge of it.
“Like shit. But I’ll be fine.” You sighed in response. 
“Good.” Daryl said softly, letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Hershel said you probably got scratched by a walker. That true?”
You averted his gaze from his and started picking your fingernails, a nervous habit you’ve had since you were a child. “It happened while we were dealing with that hoard. I didn’t wanna make a scene.” 
You heard him sigh deeply and didn’t speak for a moment. You turned your head back towards him, and he had his head in his hand, almost willing himself to speak. He looked up and his eyes looked redder and puffier than they were before. “Why th’ fuck would ya do tha’?”
You slowly sat up in a somewhat sitting position to better look him in the eyes. “We all have to protect this place, Daryl! This family! It’s something that most don’t have these days.”
“We coulda had one less person in th’ family if you’d told me about tha’ any later.” He motioned to your wound with a nod of his head.
“You guys can function without m-” You were cut off from your half-joking comment.
“I can’t, ‘kay?! I can’t. So shuddup. Don’t say tha’.” He suddenly raised his voice a little, making you shut your lips and look at him with your full attention.
“Look. I don’t want ya gettin’ hurt. I care about ya. Always have.” He gazed into your eyes with such a fondness you could’ve started crying right then and there. And you would’ve, if he didn’t look away from you in sudden embarrassment. “Yer the only one who keeps me sane ‘round here.”
You sniffed, chuckling to cover up the tightness growing in the back of your throat. “That why you stayed and kept me up with your snoring?”
“Shuddup.” He repeated, sounding exasperated, but you didn’t miss the slight smile on his face.
He then stood up, flexed his probably sore neck, and put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. More heat blossomed onto your cheek at the sudden contact.
“Gonna go get Hershel now that yer awake.” He said softly before walking towards the door.
“Can you bring me dinner after pleeeeease?” You asked, your hands in a prayer motion and your eyelashes batting.
He turned around in the doorframe, his hands in his pockets.
“Sure. ‘S a date.” He drawled, winked, then walked away like nothing happened.
Maybe you should have thanked that walker before you stabbed him.
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deadghosy · 1 year ago
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“Why did you kiss me?”
“Because, you’re the only one who stayed with me.”
LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X GN! READER
FLUFF❤️/ SLIGHT SUGGESTIVE/ BAD GRAMMAR
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YOU WOKE UP in bed with Lucifer as you found the king of hell holding you close to his body as soft breathing was heard of the sleeping king. You stretched a little not wake up Lucifer as he mumbles in his sleep, “stay…with me…I need you…” the mumbles were cute as you smile at him softly.
You turn into a black vapor over to the side of the bed to stretch your wings and body. You are still pretty much tired but you have to go meet Charlie since you told her you would be there quick. You walk to the bathroom to get out of this cute cunty vibe robe without knowing that Lucifer woke up not feeling your body.
Lucifer touched the spot you were only to have tears in his eyes.
Did he dream of you being by him?
if so what was the dream so long. He misses you already like an abandoned puppy. He didn’t know if it was real or not as he lays on his stomach facing nothing, only the headboard of this bed you slept on with him. He wipes his eyes as he looked at his hand, his eyes widen to have seen the duck ring.
So it was real…
He was stock to say that you actually did stay with him that day as he blushes kissing the ring. He’s hate to admit it, but this could be the wedding ring of both of you and him if he decides to have balls and ask you. His thoughts stop as he hears the bathroom door open to see you exiting wearing his color scheme on an outfit that was quite formal.
“Good morning Luci.” You said with a smile as your voice was like honey to him and he was the bear. He loved your voice even if you didn’t think your voice was special. He smiled at you as he walks over and hugs you, nuzzling his apple like scent all over you as you just smile patting his back.
“Good morning my angel!” He said as he lifts you up with ease as you grip his shoulders. You were shocked to say that Lucifer never did this to you before. But he must be in a good mood to have done this. You just smile at him as he Carries you to the kitchen with a soft hum. As he hums you smile just getting use to his presence as it been so long you two masked in each other. He sits you down on one of the dining chairs as he goes to make pancakes.
You remember how he use to make pancakes with Charlie and you. It was such a lovable memory in your head as you check your phone to see Angel dust worried about you with 16 messages and 20 missed calls. Charlie called you 1 time and left 27 messages. Alastor left you 1 message as vaggie has send you 12 messages. Man your friends had missed you.
Lucifer broke your train of thought with his famous pancakes as he smiles that toothy charming smile everyone knows and love. He kisses your forehead showing you this new affection that was brought upon the two of you last night.
You both ate in comfortable peace as you two share a piece of bacon and just chatter about today and what will tomorrow bring. You could’ve sworn he kept staring at your neck as you just glanced away from him awkwardly as you look at you watch.
“Ah man..I gotta do Lu.” You said as you got up. Lucifer also got up in a hurry thinking of how to keep you here longer. But he knew he couldn’t as his daughter depends on you too…so it sucks as he nods with a frown. He goes over to you and smiles, “okay. Just be safe on the way out.”
You chuckled at that as you just nod and hold his arm, he looks at his arm as he kisses your hand up and then he kisses you on your lips. Making you surprised, your eyes widened but soon fell into the kiss as he puts his hands on your waist and you put your arms around his neck with a flustered face. He lifted you as you wrap your legs around his waist as he leaves your mouth and go down to your neck, nibbling and biting as he licks your neck up and down.
He couldn’t help himself but feel to claim you somehow as he places you on the dinning table of the kitchen. He kept biting as you wince gripping his shoulder. He bit you so hard you bleed without noticing, but he notice. He licked your neck, cleaning of the blood as he slightly whimpers looking up at you with his demonic red eyes.
“Did a kiss really get him that excited?” You thought as you lift his chin only for him to purr and move closer to kiss you more to the point you both won’t take it.
But you still had to help Charlie, so you push Lucifer’s head away with a smile. “Ah ah, can’t do that sir. I have to do tend to your daughter now. I’ll be back soon Lu-Lu.” With a final kiss to his eye with he whimpered rubbing his face on your neck. You got off the table dusting yourself and wiping the left over saliva from Lucifer on your neck. “Love you.” You said as you left the palace.
Lucifer stands there alone with his demon tail wagging with a derpy smile as he just excitedly.
“YES! THEY SAY THEY LOVE ME!! THEY’RE FINALLY MINE! TAKE THAT DEPRESSION!”
TIME AS PASSED as you check your phone to see love messages with hearts on them from Lucifer. This man is certainly high off your kisses from earlier as he is literally kicking his feet on his bed thinking of you. But you wanted to say something about the kiss so you started to text him.
Lucifer saw your text bubble as he brought his phone close to his face with a wide smile to see your text. This boy is whipped badly as he smiles waiting.
“Why did you kiss me?” You had asked over text as Lucifer stops smiling thinking of the most realistic answer ever as he nods and texted you back with a smug face.
“Because, you’re the only one who stayed with me.” He texted back with a flushed expression.
After that, you two started to text everyday. Sending love messages and everything to check up one and another.
Lucifer was finally happy.
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twis-world · 11 months ago
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The Remedy That Is You (Riddle Version)
Mentions: Fluff, Riddle-Centric, Second Person, Gender Neutral Reader
No matter how many a time the students of Nightraven College witnessed how their Housewarden did a complete 180 in your presence, it never ceased to amaze them.
It eventually got to the point where a majority of students began to question if you really were magickless. There was just no way your mere presence could bring out such light in their eyes, face softening and a smile so tender it was as if they were gazing upon one of the Seven.
Just how did you do it?
Riddle
“You imbecile!” Riddle’s voice boomed, echoing all throughout Heartslabyul. Fear set into all who heard it, a chain reaction flowing through their bodies as their hearts beat quicker, palms growing clammy in a cold sweat. No matter how many times their beloved Housewarden proved that he had changed, that he was no longer the cruel tyrant they all once feared, it did not stop the utter terror that ran through them when they did succeed in trying his patience.
Especially when it concerned the prized animals they cared for.
“Have I not made it clear several times that you are not to directly hit the hedgehogs?” Riddle continued to scream, face flaming red as he cradled the delicate creature in his arms. Whether or not the poor thing was shaking of its own account or fear of the one holding it was to be determined, but it mattered not with all eyes on the beholder. “Are you so dense that you cannot remember something as simple as that?”
“Housewarden Riddle,” the victim stuttered. It was a first-year clearly, face deathly pale and looking as if his soul would leave his body any moment in a fit of desperation. Anything to get away from such a ghastly scenario. “I-I…I swear it was a-a-an accident-”
“How do you accidentally do such a thing?” Riddle snapped back, nearly frothing at the mouth as he marched forward into the other’s space. The surrounding students gasped, taking a step back in turn and preparing for the inevitable as his hand noticeably itched for his pen. The first-year clearly noticed as well, eyes bulging and feet shifting in preparation to run if need be. “Even so, there is no room for such impertinence. Why, I should have your head for that!”
“Riddle?”
The effect was almost instant.
The speed at which the male stepped back was almost inhuman, head snapping back so quickly a few flinched at the thought of such inevitable whiplash. The snarl on his lips dropped, not taking on a smile but smoothing out the lines his earlier scowl created. In fact, the only evidence of his incredible fury from but a moment ago was the ever present brightness of his face, taking its time in ever so slowly draining away.
Then, they saw it.
The moment you managed to break through the crowd, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly agape as you surveyed the situation, the sharpness in his gaze disappeared. It was almost comical how instantly his pupils blew, nearly overtaking the storm in his eyes. Some swore that if it were possible hearts would most definitely be shining from his orbs, beating in tune with the one confined by his mortal body yet still promised to you.
Great Seven, the way he greeted you as well. It nearly ached how tenderly a soft ‘My Rose’ escaped from his lips, and it was then they all knew that in his mind the rest of the world faded away until all that lay within it was you.
“Ace nearly gave me a heart attack when he blew up my phone, spewing nonsense of a bomb about to blow the whole of the dorm,” you gently teased, stepping towards him with such ease despite the still shaking of Riddle’s body. Yet, as you placed a delicate hand on his arm, the tremors all but disappeared. “Guess he wasn’t that far off for once.”
The red fury on his face was now one of shame and embarrassment, tucking his head down and staring as he gently calmed the still shaking hedgehog. “He exaggerates…” he nearly mumbled, refusing to look up at the gentle smile you were giving him. 
You stared at him with the same fondness he just had moments ago, thumb softly rubbing against his arm. Words could not explain the relief they all felt when you looked up at them all and nodded your head back to the main dorm building, silently giving them permission to finally escape.
At the sound of their retreat Riddle’s head shot up, confusion evident. “Who gave you all permission to leave?” he called out, stepping out of your grasp and staring at their retreating backs. If his hands weren’t occupied you were sure he would be waving them in a blind fury. “Come back! You have yet to-”
“Riddle,” you interrupted, cupping his face in your hands and turning his gaze to you instead. It was a miracle that he had yet to pass out, blood still continuously rushing to his face as he had no choice but to lock eyes with you. Fingertips caressed under his eyes, exaggerated breathing from you goading him to follow with, not once turning away. Not daring to escape the land you’ve trapped him in.
He didn’t know how much time passed, just the two of you standing there and the animal in his arms long since passed out, nor did he care. Just your touch alone was enough to soothe his soul, your gaze and sweet words were simply a bonus that he thought himself unworthy of, yet here he was.
“There we go,” you cooed, dropping your hands but not once breaking contact from his face. Down his cheeks that you held for a moment, nails barely scraping down his neck in tune with the pleasant shiver it sent down his spine, dancing across his shoulders and tickling his waist before coming to a stop there. “Why don’t we sit and enjoy some tea to help calm you down more, hm?”
“It’s not yet past the lunch hour,” he responded, yet almost drunkenly. “Rule 148 states-” The small burst of laughter that left you was enough to shut him up, watching as your head tilted back and shined even brighter than the sun that warmed you both. He decided that he really didn’t want you to stop anytime soon. “Though…though I suppose I could make an exception…”
A few more chuckles rang, and you gave him another playful smile along with a gentle squeeze. “How kind.”
Yes, yes you really were quite magical.
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herecomethatboi · 1 year ago
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Dbd killers X gn!Reader
Tiktok on my foryou really fueled my writer-self and i'm not even sorry.
"Killer chases MC. MC gets cornered or sumthin and as the killer catches up, MC grabs him by his shirt/jacket/hoodie/thing, slams him into the wall behind him, tears his mask down and kisses him while leaning their full body weight on the killer.
Killer is like 🧍‍♂️
While MC just 🏃 to the hatch/gate."
Enjoy this silly thing and ignore any mistake I might made. English isn't my first language lol
-----------------------------------------
Ghostface:
You were the only one left. Meg was moried for looping Ghostface for too long and it pissed the killer off. Steve sacrificed himself to save you, since he was already injured and pushed you to run away while he got the killer's attention. Élodie finished the third generator before getting caught, and at that moment the only other survivour was you, who was getting chased by the Ghostface.
You got injured, but got away quick enough to heal yourself, hearing the entity finishing off poor Élodie on the other side of the map. You felt bad, since you could've saved her if it weren't for the killer lurking around the corner of the police station.
You huffed as you finished bandaging your arm and slowly started walking down the dark hallway, not making any sound in case Ghostface was near.
But luck wasn't on your side of course, since he appeared out of nowhere in front of you from the other room and you, by sheer luck got ahold of his shoulders and slammed him against the wall next to you, pinning him there.
You were shocked, as well as him, but to confuse him even further, you pulled his mask up to his nose and kissed him, while putting your whole body weight on him.
He dropped his knife in shock and just stood there, frozen in place. He didn't have enough time to react properly.
The kiss ended a few seconds later and you were gone, running down the hallway, to the main entrance, luckily finding the hatch there, making your escape easier than you thought ever was possible.
Even when you got back you brushed your fingertips against your lips, remembering Ghostface's taste. It was sweet and had an undertone of smoke. He's a smoker, but loves sweets, especially caramel.
The next time you met him, let it be trial or not, he gave you the same treatment, making the kiss last longer with lingering touches of his fingertips brushing down your spine, holding your face and touching your hips.
What was between the two of you was never talked about, but it was obvious for anyone that it was more than a game of cat and mouse.
The Legion, Frank:
One of the gate was already open, Yoichi got injured, but escaped.
Yui out ran the killer and got out as well and Feng was sacrificed already. Poor girl was trying to heal herself, since she had a medkit but made the mistake of making a noise, which alerted the killer.
That left you running from the Legion, trying desperately to get to the gate or at least find the hatch.
Another ding rang around the whole map, signalling the timer going even lower now and that the enitity is waiting to strike you and punish you for not escaping.
You felt it only once, but it was enough to not want to go through it again.
You jumped through a window, falling down from the second floor, making your landing more painful and slowing you down for a few second, which gave enough time for the Legion to catch up.
He walked toward you with such a cocky confidence that it irritated you. But, you got an idea, which made you seem scared, but actually tensing your muscles to get ready and wait for him to get close enough.
When he did, you grabbed him by the front if his hoodie and slammed him against the hay behind him, making him grunt in surprise.
You yanked his mask down from his face, not even giving him a moment to realize what was going on and you kissed him with so much force his knees buckled, you grip on him the only thing keeping him from falling on the ground.
You heared a whimper from him, but you were too focussed to truely do anything about it, or really realize what he just did.
You heard his weapon slip from his hand and that was the moment you pulled away and ran to the gate that was just a few metres away.
You made it out right before the timer went off, leaving Frank alone while he slowly slid down to sit on the ground and stare before himself in shock while panting and blinking like an idiot.
After he caught up about the whole situation, he had a little grin on his face and touched his lips, still tasting you on them.
He decided to wait for the next time he sees you again to give you a rougher treatment, as a thanks for making him realize something about himself.
Even if that something was a thing he swore he hated. Getting himself slammed against something solid was a new and exciting thing he wanted to explore with only you.
Michael Myers:
The two of you were staring at each other. Neither of you moving an inch, while making sure to note any tiny movement the other was making.
The others were dead already, only three gens done, which was a miracle when the trial was with Michael. With him, every single time only one gen was done, he somehow alway knew where everyone was and what they were doing. He finished everyone off with such quickness that even the Entity couldn't influence his perfect efficency.
Until today.
He was angry, it was obvious from the louder-than-usual huffs he was letting out, his shoulders more tense, his grip on his knife made his knuckles even whiter than his already pale skin was.
Something happened to him and you were the last one left, which meant torture until he was satisfied, not letting the Entity interviene.
Not like she ever did, but that's besides the point.
You held your flashlight, breathing as slowly as you could to try and react in time to at least give the impression that you were trying to run away.
You took a step behind you, there was a window, but even if you could just jump out, he would catch up and most likely make you suffering even more painful.
But you had an idea that Feng talked about jokingly. That is a video she saw where there was a girl running from a killer in a haunted house. But she turned around and slammed the masked killer against the wall, pulled his mask up and kissed him. Which made the killer stunned enough for her to run away.
You knew the element of surprise was everything, but Michael was stronger than a normal human, even stronger in trial. But you had to give it a try, for your escape at least or to gain time to locate the hatch.
You moved fast, jumped out quickly and dropped down, making you grunt but step away, seeing the killer climb out and drop down next to you.
You grabbed the giant man by his arms and with your full body weight, you slammed him against the wall behind him, his knees were bent, which gave you enough room to quickly as you could, pull his mask up and slam your lips against his.
Michael tensed up, his right arm shook with the amount of force be was gripping the knife, but he didn't move.
He was like a statue, too still to be human, but the surprise was enough for you to push him to the wall while you pulled away and ran as fast as you could.
You found the hatch without meeting him again.
You were the first person ever to escape the Shape.
Surprising everyone, being asked questions about the "how" and "why". You didn't explain, you couldn't.
And after that, whenever you had a trial with the Shape, you never saw him, but felt his gaze on you and you were always let go.
Why?...You never really got an answer, but on one part you were glad, and on the other you were embarrassed, since you knew exactly why he never approached you again.
What you didn't know is you became more of an obsession to him than Laurie, but a different kind.
A more possessive and dangerous kind.
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silent-secrets21 · 5 months ago
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The thought of having a little puke slut riding my cock lazily as they hold their tummy and whimper and moan about how sore it is. So I sit them in my lap properly, with my cock still buried inside them, and rub their bloated, tense tummy. They shudder as they feel a burp coming up they instinctively cover their mouth incase they vomit. I’d move their hand away and cup my hand in front of them incase they have a little accident. I notice that this turns them on more, the thought of throwing up on me while they have my cock inside them. I gently slide two fingers past their saliva coated lips and into their mouth. They suck softly as they keep burping and moaning. I slowly move my fingers down their throat making them gag and grind onto my dick. Their body convulses as they throw up a little around my fingers. The vomit seeping for the corners of their mouth as their eyes go teary. They look at me with a mixture of guilt, embarrassment and lust as I force my fingers down more and buck my hips up into them. They gag and burp some more until they quickly remove my fingers and projectile vomit into their/my lap. Their body shaking as they vomit more, unable to stop. I gently press onto their tummy making them moan in pleasure and they grind their hips into mine, getting themselves off. They couldn’t hold back the gush of piss that left their body as they vomit so aggressively. Their face going even more red as they piss all over me, drenching me in piss snd vomit. As they finally stopped vomiting snd pissing they looked at me with tear stained cheeks and a needy expression. The fact that we are both now so wet and messy because of the puke sluts vomit and piss makes us both so fucking horny. They start bouncing on my cock, not letting the squelchy sound deter them. They got me so deep inside them their eyes rolled back as they got themselves off on my cock. I couldn’t help but marvel at the site before me. Their bouncing became more uneven and I watched them unravel on my cock. Sinful moans left their vomit covered lips as they came. I held them close to me as they came down from their high. I must have squeezed too hard because I heard a soft moan and felt something wet go down my back.
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halcy0n-skies · 5 months ago
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synopsis: gojo likes buying flowers for you.
a/n: just something short! Maybe I'll do a series of sorts with this and a few other characters.
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When it comes to flowers, Gojo Satoru is always one to go big. No matter the season, the occasion, or your mood, you can always expect a large bouquet that’ll take up half of whatever counter you place it on.
When it’s spring, growing into warm summer, he’ll spend some time browsing through different local florists as he walks home. Hundreds of people pass him by as he scrolls through different business names…that is, before he habitually walks into the same one he always goes to. The light ding of the furin chime swaying in the wind easily blends with the high-pitched ring of the brass bell hung above the door.
Summer is always his favourite time to come in here, mainly because everything smells so sweet. Handmade bouquets burst from each shelf, a multi-coloured tapestry of amber, scarlet, lilac, and cerulean. It’s styled in light woods and deep reds, not unlike the shinto shrine near Tokyo Tower. The first few times he came in here, he was somewhat overwhelmed: it was like they stuffed every flower field in Furano into one room.
A surprising feat, considering who he is.
However, the more he visited, the better he got. Both with picking up what flowers you liked, and when the shop got a new stock.
Considering it’s not public knowledge, they’re always surprised to see his face in the early morning when they’re still unloading and sorting it.
(He says he has a work thing earlier than usual, but, in reality, he’s already in the store picking out flowers for you.)
Aside from it smelling so damn good–he did say mainly, didn’t he?–he loves coming here in summer because there is always an unsuspecting student working a summer job. If he were completely honest, other than seeing the pure joy on your face when you receive them, either in person or through photos if he’s away–though he always prefers seeing your reactions in real time–the reaction from the florists is practically his favourite part.
So, when he casually slips out his credit card and asks for a bouquet of a hundred roses, he has to steel himself not to smile too hard or laugh at how far the kid’s jaw drops.
It gets even better when he asks for some ribbon–the expensive stuff lined with silver thread. No matter the flowers, he almost always goes for light blue or white. It may or may not fuel his already large ego when you compliment it.
Sure, it’s somewhat awkward to take home–even with all the times he’s bought big ones like this and decided to carry them back himself–but nothing compares to the unmistakably dumbfounded–yet happy–look on your face.
He’s bought them for you many times, but your reaction never changes. It never fails to make his heart swell.
It’s not always roses, though. He’s trawled through enough terrible romance films over the years to know that it gets old.
When he sees the old ones wilting in their vase–both of you having left them long enough to get as much out of them as possible–he’ll find some time to walk down to that same florist shop and note down all of your favourite flowers. He’s pretty sure the usual workers have got a list or something in the back rooms of what he usually orders, because each time he does, they just raise an eyebrow and state, “Fifteen minutes, sir.” with a curt nod.
Never in his life did he think he’d become that predictable.
In winter, when Tokyo’s goliath skyscrapers seem more ice-topped mountains than buildings, and when the sakura’s branches are heavy with pearly snow, he’ll always go for something colourful.
While he doesn’t mind the cold, finds the snow–on the increasingly rare occasion that it does snow–quite delightful, especially when it gets cold enough to give him an easy excuse to cuddle with you on the couch, he hates how dreary everything ends up looking. Knows you aren’t too fond of it, too.
So, he happily brightens your apartment with flowers: the large red roses disappear, and are instead replaced with small, soft memories of summer.
Seasons aside, your favourite time to receive flowers is when he hasn’t been home in a while. Rest assured, surrounded by the ceramic roofs of Kyoto or the soft sand of Okinawa, he’s thinking of you.
Designing a bouquet based on floral meanings is rare for him. Very rare. He sits down with the florist and their archaic leather book which knows the words inscribed on each petal of each flower, and hand arranges it himself. Even if he complains he doesn’t know shit about it, they always turn out beautiful.
If you were to ask him why he doesn’t do it often–since a gift with an intricate meaning hand crafted by himself is such a thoughtful way to show his love–he’d say he doesn’t need complex, well thought presents to show how he feels.
Your heart may be the most complicated organ in your body–he knows it each time he listens to the thrum of your blood–and the gentle hum of your soul may never truly be touched by anything but his eyes, but he knows his affections have no need to be as elaborate.
Loving you is easy. He hopes his roses and red carnations let you know that.
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faux-ecrivain · 1 year ago
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Yandere Fickle Ex-Boyfriend
(Fickle-Changing frequently, especially as regard one’s loyalty, interests, or affection) (Fifteenth official post)
(Merry Christmas! 🎅)
(Happy Holidays!🎄)
(Yan’s name is Julian)
Yan Ex who used to be a wonderful, caring person. Then all of the sudden, just three years into your relationship, he changed.
Yan Ex who begins to distance himself from you, he seems to be shutting you out, and you don’t understand why.
Yan Ex who treats you as a stranger and not someone he adored, you’re so confused, his behavior is so unnatural.
Yan Ex who has previously been absolutely enamored with you and had done absolutely anything to be with you. Now, he’s acting the complete opposite, he treats you as a nuisance.
Julian groans as you cling onto him (you were just holding his hand), he shakes you off and puts some distance between the two of you. Hurt flashes across your face and you feel the tinge of creep into your heart, which makes way for resentment. How dare he treat you like that? Especially after all he’s done to you.
Yan Ex who had spent years breaking you down and then abandoned you when you gave into him. (You hate him so much)
Yan Ex who begins to pursue someone else, someone who he had sworn wasn’t his type. Someone docile and loving, he had always told you that he liked the fight in you.
Yan Ex who makes a show of romancing this docile person (apparently named Alexis) and practically rubs it in your face. 
Yan Ex who never officially broke up with you, but treated you like he did. 
Yan Ex who’s surprised, after weeks of you being quiet, when you lash out and intimidate him, he’s never seen you so mad! (It certainly makes him feel a specific way…)
Yan Ex who immediately becomes interested in you again, now he’s always touching you and kissing up on you. His behavior has you reeling and you almost fall for it again, until you remember how he treated you and you pull back.
Yan Ex who becomes frustrated when you push him away, how dare you behave like that! Yes, he was treating you in a similar manner, but so what! He’s allowed to, but you’re not. At least, that’s what he believes.
Yan Ex who cries when you break up with him, that’s not fair! Only he’s allowed to break up with you, you can’t do that.
Yan Ex who pouts and whines when you ignore his calls, whilst he internally seethes.
Yan Ex who decides to take action and creeps into your room late at night, yes he did climb up your window, but it’s okay because he loves you! (In actuality he’s basically incapable of love)
Yan Ex who shushes your cries for help and tries to keep you from struggling (unfortunately he isn’t stronger than you).
He yelps when you push him off your bed, his head hits the floor and he groans. Julian frowns and sits up, he pouts and crawls back onto the bed. He latches onto you and begs you not to kick him out! “Please, Please, don’t kick me out! I know I’m a fool, but i still love you!” He cries, his head burrowing into your stomach and his tears (clearly fake) soak your shirt. A sound of disgust escapes your mouth and you push him off again. Which, of course, causes him to whine.
Yan Ex who wants yo be in control of the relationship, he wants to choose when to end this relationship and when to destroy it. He won’t ever let anyone make the first move, he should be the only making decisions in this relationship (yet the moment you concede to his will, he gets bored and pushes you away.)
Yan Ex who will not give up, he wants you to love him again, it makes him feel powerful. 
Yan Ex who puts up a fight when you try to throw him out of the house, literally, he’s kicking and screaming, clinging onto you in a manner reminiscent of how you once did.
Julian whines again as he wraps his arms around your waist. He looks (up/down) at you, his eyes filled with tears and the bottom of his lip wobbles. “Pleeease don’t leave me [Y/N], I know I’m not perfect, but I love you!” You roll your eyes, you highly doubt he could ever love you. He’s just being a big, pathetic baby (no offense to babies). You push him off, he grunts when his bottom hits the floor and he burst into tears (he’s a cute cryer, but you won’t tell him that). “[Y/N]! Stop being mean to meee!!” Julian pouts and wraps his arms, and legs, around you leg. 
Yan Ex who clings to you like a koala, regardless of how hard you try to get him off of you. He’s going to keep clinging to you, until he wears you down and then he’ll probably leave you.  But you don’t give in, you just yank him off your leg and throw him out of the house. 
Yan Ex who bangs on the door, begging to be let back in and begging for you to forgive him.
Yan Ex who quickly turns vicious once he sees that his pouty little act isn’t working on you, he begins to shout threats and tells you to watch your back, because he won’t let you go.
Yan Ex who vows to get revenge, who swears you’ll regret ever getting rid of him.
“Ah, you’ll shouldn’t have done that darling, now I have to punish you.”
(That’s all for now, hopefully you guys enjoy this and hopefully this makes sense!)
(Thoughts on Julian?)
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fredtheemoplant · 4 months ago
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See how I don’t post about how much I don’t like your otp? Very respectful, Very aware.
See how I don’t tell you to kys when you post about how much you don’t like my otp? Very mindful, Very demure.
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klemen-tine · 1 year ago
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Glass Bones and Paper Skin
Platonic! Bruce x Model! GN! Reader
More Platonic Bruce x Reader than Batfam, but they are mentioned and will have a bigger role in the future.
Trigger Warnings: Hint at suicide, Body Issues, Eating problems (not a disorder), Child Neglect
Just a reminder for everyone, your bodies are perfect and beautiful! Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise.
Part 2
Part 3
Blinding lights and hundreds of eyes are enough to thwart people from the runway. It makes people stumble, trip, or even run from it. Their mind focuses on if they mess up, the world will see. Their managers, agencies, everyone will forever refer to it when they ask them to walk for them again. 
They focus on their walk, the way the clothing either hugs or drapes off their bodies, how the shoes don’t fit, the way their hair is styled, and how the makeup can burn. They try not to focus on how their stomachs ache, how the heels cut into the thin skin on their feet, and that everyone in this room that is dressed and prepped, are equally or more or less beautiful than them. 
Y/N L/N seemed to be the topic of conversation at all of these events. A newer runway model who has been eating it up. From their first runway debut to this one, they have always left people in awe and dropping to their knees for more. It is hard to believe that they are only 18. Y/N has been a photoshoot model since 15, but on their birthday when they turned 18, they finally agreed to their agency’s desire to make them take on the runway. 
It was the best choice for their career. Y/N’s manager was the daughter of their mother’s manager, back when she was alive and used to do modeling. Her manager threw her own daughter at Y/N, and stated that they were the best people to work with because they know Y/N. Whether Y/N was cursed or not –they have yet to figure that out– has nearly the same exact features as their mother and the same ‘air.’ One that demanded everyone to pay attention to them, and is a natural for posing and had a natural strut. 
They’ve been right, and Y/N doesn’t know if it is because of them that they all made it this far. They knew what looked best on Y/N and what wouldn’t work. They knew which designers would adore them and which designers wouldn’t fit. 
Those who know Y/N though understand that the ‘air’ was only on the runways and photoshoots. Y/N is actually a very demure person, while not a wallflower, they were someone who could blend in the crowd. 
Alfred once told them that every country should be grateful to not have Y/N working against them, because Y/N can just disappear. 
“Y/N, are you ready?” They smiled at their fellow models, slipping into the person of Y/N L/N, child of M/N L/N and Bruce Wayne, and nodding, “Of course. When am I not?” 
Cheryl whistled, a fellow model that has been Y/N’s mentor in some way, walking around Y/N and smiling, “Designers sure know how to dress you up. I think almost every runway walk has had your hips on display” Y/N chuckled at her, “It’s because of these hips dips. You can probably drink soup out of them.” 
“If it was ice cream I’d be down, but not soup.” Jon was another model who has been in the scene for a long time. He was a handsome man with a diamond face. 
“Models get ready.” A shuffling of feet and high heels clip clopping sounded in the backstage, and Y/N took their place in front of everyone. They will be the one opening the show today, an honor that the 18-year-old took gratefully. 
Opening a show was a big deal, setting the tone for the show in general and also the tempo. Y/N took a deep breath, and at the cue, their mind went blank as they began walking. Their eyes focused on the end camera, and the walk on beat to the music. Once at the end, they looked directly into the camera and struck a pose. Highlighting the slit hips and underboob design, showing off the almost sheer fabric that had the slightest hint of shimmer in them. A statement piece. 
Turning around they walked back to where they emerged from, making sure they kept their face in control for the last camera. However, a sight at the corner of their eye momentarily broke them out of their blank space. Five familiar people that should not be here. Sitting in the front row, wearing nice tuxedos, and almost making Y/N stumble. 
Almost. Controlling their features, Y/N returned their focus to the camera and disappeared in the entrance they emerged from. Smiling at all the 'congratulations’ ‘you looked great,’ ‘you look beautiful,’ they went back to their manager, Maya, and whispered, “I need you to confirm five people in the front row on the left side. They are four chairs down from the camera.”
Maya nodded, scurrying away and without a doubt checking it out. Y/N could feel the curiosity and dread build in their stomach. If they are who Y/N thinks they are, then the after party is going to be interesting. 
“What’s wrong?” Jon wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, bringing Y/N out their thoughts, “Nothing really. Just thought I saw some familiar faces.” Jon made a weird face, but dropped the issue when another model, Logan, strolled on over. 
“Did you see them?” 
“See who?” 
“The Wayne family! They are in the front row!” Y/N closed their eyes in misery and a headache began forming. They saw Maya running back, her face pale and a large frown on her face. Jon glanced at Y/N, taking in the annoyed expression and scrunched nose, “Hmm, no I didn’t. I was too focused on looking at the camera, Logan.” She rolled her eyes, “Oh, it was only a second.”
Jon and Y/N gave each other a dry look, remembering the last time Logan had said that and somehow the camera managed to snap a photo when she was oggling at someone. Y/N shook their head, “I momentarily saw them, but I didn’t think it was them. Do you think I can get the oldest son’s number?” 
‘You’re not his type.’  Y/N thought but didn’t say, shrugging and smiling in amusement, “Logan, what would your girlfriend say?” The model stuck her tongue, “She’d ask to join.” Before Logan could say anything else, Cheryl waltzed over, “Stop being inappropriate, there’s a kid present.” 
“Hey!” 
“Sorry, if you can’t drink yet you can’t have this conversation.” Y/N made a face, “That’s the stupidest sense of logic I have ever heard.” Everyone laughed at them, clapping Y/N’s shoulders and helping each other fix their wardrobes. Some stylists came over to fix their makeup and hair just in case. Everyone was getting ready for the last walkthrough, and honestly, Y/N was dreading it. 
As the front runner of it all, Y/N’s face will be seen by the now confirmed Wayne family and Y/N isn’t confident in themselves enough to not make a face. 
The show will be closing soon and then there is the afterparty that all models are expected to attend. It's a networking place, where other designers, brand ambassadors, and just people who are rich enough to get a ticket can talk to the models and try and recruit them. Its a place and time to mingle for those who have an open schedule and unfortunately, Y/N has an open fucking schedule. 
This was their last show in Paris, and then they have one destination and then it will be done. Runway season will be officially over and then it will be smaller gigs and back to the every now and then runway. 
“Models get ready!” Y/N took a deep breath and fixed their face, eyes forward and chin up. 
‘I’ll call Alfred when I get home.’ 
+++
‘I want to go home.’ Y/N nursed the drink in the flute, filled with sparkling cider instead of champagne. They stood off to the side, changed out of the clothes they wore on the runway, and instead in a deep-v top and leather pants. Still dressed to impress, but at the moment they just wanted to curl up and go away. Y/N’s hotel room has a bathtub in it and Y/N really wants to just sit down in hot water and relax. 
Y/N was constantly scanning the crowd, moving further against the wall whenever they saw black hair and blue eyes. 
Maya said one more hour, then it will be acceptable to leave. She was doing all  the talking and networking for Y/N, trusting that when it came to meet the designers Y/N will charm them enough to want to have them keep coming back. Sighing once more, Y/N took a longer sip and wished to be home. 
Something moved the hair near their ear, and Y/N almost threw their glass at whoever it was until they caught sight of blue eyes and black hair, staring at and analyzing them. 
“Tim…” 
“Hello, Y/N.” Y/N gave a practiced and polite smile, “Odd to see you here.” Tim shrugged, “Seeing that the designer is friends with Bruce, and told us of your show and that you will be leading the walk, of course we had to come.” Y/N nodded, “In Paris?” 
“Where else? You’re next one is in New York right?” Y/N gave a polite chuckle, “Since when did you pay attention to fashion week?” Tim took a sip of champagne, “Since my younger sibling decided to run off and become a model.” 
Y/N took a sip of the sparkling cider, not missing the way Tim was eyeing them with interest and curiosity. They smiled against the rim of the flute, “ ‘Run off’ huh. I don’t think those are the words I would use. I never hid it and I didn’t pack my bags in the middle of the night and sneak through a window.” Y/N set the empty flute down, still smiling politely at Tim who was still watching them, “I simply walked out the front door and no one stopped me.” 
“Y/N–” 
“Y/N! There you are!” A tall woman, hair dyed a shade-off from white gray and wearing the crispest red suit, strolled over. Y/N gave a larger smile, opening their arms and welcoming the hug, “Ms. Gabbana, you look lovely as always.” The woman laughed, “That’s the botox. Anyways, you looked so amazing opening the show!” 
Tim was quickly forgotten as Francesca Gabbana, an Italian high-end fashion designer and luxury brand owner, chatted away with Y/N. Her presence called forth other designers and models and soon enough, Y/N was entrapped in a small group talking about the next runway show next week. 
They talked about the dreaded flight to New York, and where they will be staying. It will be Francesca’s show next week, along with some other high end designers. Francesca seemed particularly excited for Y/N’s, and when Y/N first saw the design, they had to hold back the shivers.
“Right, Y/N you’re from Gotham aren’t you? Will you be visiting your family?” With the attention all on Y/N, they smiled tightly and shrugged, “We’ll see. They are always so busy so I think it's best if I don-” 
“I hope Y/N visits, it’s been a while since we last saw each other.” A large hand clapped Y/N’s shoulder, and from the facial expression everyone was making, Y/N knows who it was. Peeking up through their lashes, Y/N could see Bruce’s smile on his still handsome face. 
Cheryl was the first to recover, her eyes narrowing slightly, “How… how do you know each other?” Y/N glanced at Bruce, who right now is Brucie, and before he could say anything Bruce gasped, “Y/N, you haven’t said anything?” The young adult shrugged, “It never came up. Bruce Wayne is my father.”
The room erupted, and Y/N actually wanted to go die in a hole. What proceeded afterwards was the most intense questioning for the next two hours. 
++++
“Bruce, why are you here?” Y/N asked over dinner. He tossed the crouton around in his salad, waiting for his father’s response. They have never had a 1 on 1 meal together. It was alway family meals, and even then Y/N rarely showed up for those. There was no need too. They never noticed when Y/N was there or not. 
The Billionaire playboy shrugged, “Is it wrong to see my child open a highly sought after show?” Y/N chuckled, “No, but you have never shown any interest in this before.” Y/N never hid his modeling gigs. Often using the family weight room to keep in shape and also turned one of the unused offices into a strut practice room when Y/N lived in the manor. Hours and the amount of money spent to ensure their skin was perfect and their hair was nice, and that they looked beautiful. 
Y/N never hid their modeling job, even as a teen, and yet the only one who seemed to notice was Alfred. 
“You never said anything.” 
“I didn’t think I had too.” Y/N can recall trying to show Bruce, Dick, Jason, anyone that would bother to look, a photo of them making it onto Vogue. Not the cover, not yet, but as a newer model within the prestigious magazine. They made it at 16. 16, and only modeling for a year! Francessca had them in a piece that was first page worthy, and it fit Y/N like it was meant for them. 
Alfred was the only person to look at the magazine Y/N held open with their trembling hands, and ruffle their hair and congratulate them. 
“You didn’t even tell Alfred where you are living.” No, because Y/N doesn’t want Alfred showing up unexpectedly and seeing the almost empty fridge. The thought of the older man’s disappointed look and inquisitive questions would have Y/N breaking down crying. 
“Hmmm, I’m always moving around so I didn’t want him showing up when I am not there.” Bruce nodded, taking a bite of his lobster, and watching Y/N take a small bite of the salad. Y/N swallowed with great difficulty, “Bruce-” 
“Since when does a child call their parents by their first name?” Y/N sucked their teeth, “The only one who calls you ‘father’ is Damian.” 
“You used to.” Y/N shrugged, “You never seemed comfortable with me calling you that.” Bruce rarely answered when Y/N called him ‘dad’ or ‘father,’ and yet he alway responded when someone else called for him.  Y/N would watch from afar as Bruce came running to them in need, but when Y/N needed help they had to figure it out on their own. 
At some point Y/N stopped calling for Bruce entirely, running and calling only to Alfred.
Y/N is not mad about it. They never were. Dull E/C eyes accepted it and pushed forward, watching the explosive fights, the angry words, and the silent apologies. Alfred’s words affirming that they all loved each other, despite everything saying otherwise. Y/N watched, and continued to watch as they focused on themselves when Y/N began making a name for themself. 
They’re not mad. Y/N never was. Hurt? Maybe, but not mad. That is just their hand in life. Besides, it made the modeling career easier. No need to worry about missing any events, Y/N wouldn’t be invited even if they had lived there. Holidays weren’t huge, nor were birthdays. The only one Y/N sent a card to was Alfred. 
It made traveling easier. There was no such thing as homesickness. It made taking more gigs easier, more destructive behavior easier to handle. 
“Y/N,” Bruce called to him and Y/N paused while eating. Raising an eyebrow in question as Bruce set down his own eating utensils. Ocean blue met E/C, and Y/N tried to place the emotion in those blue eyes. 
“For what it is worth, I… I am sorry about the neglect you have faced within our home.” Y/N’s mind stopped functioning and they stared at Bruce in shock. The man either ignoring him or not realizing that Y/N was staring at him continued. 
“You… you didn’t deserve that, especially when you were grieving and that fact that I could not see that shows my fail–” 
“Wait wait wait!” Y/N held their hands up, cutting off Bruce, “What are you talking about?” Bruce stared at Y/N with questions in his eyes, and blinked in shock when he saw the genuine confusion in his child’s eyes. Y/N looked floored, “Bruce… I-I… what?”
Bruce knows he’s not a good parent. He is intimately aware of his failings and shortcomings, and how some of them haunt him. They claw into his skin, his mind, and chest as a reminder of all the times he has failed his children. He and Dick barely started talking, Jason and him are slowly mending that bridge, and Tim and Damian seem to hate each other and Bruce doesn’t know what to do about that. It seems the only children he hasn’t officially fucked over are those that aren’t even his. 
Then there’s Y/N. A child of his genetic makeup, just like Damian, only Y/N’s mother was a model Bruce had treated as a hookup whenever she was on the east coast. Y/N was 13 when they came into Bruce’s care, older than Damian and a few years younger than Tim. Their mother was caught in a drug-use scandal, one that cost her her career and then her life. Her choice left behind a traumatized child, walking in on the body as she decomposed in their bathroom. They had been forced to pack up their bags and move across the country to live with a parent that they only heard about once or twice. 
Bruce somewhat knew of Y/N. He knew that Y/N’s mother had been pregnant, but when he asked if she wanted child support, the woman huffed and said ‘no thank you.’ Her income was enough, as a high in demand supermodel, and she didn’t need Bruce’s ‘pity’ money. 
So, he never sought after her and she never phoned him. 
Until CPS called and told him of the news and the now homeless 13-year-old child he was now in charge of. 
Y/N and him never really connected, and Bruce wonders if some of that is his own fault. He was always too busy with Batman, then his drama with Dick, and Jason’s whole dying thing, the persona of Brucie Wayne, then there was Tim, then Jason coming back from the dead thing, then Barbara’s whole Joker incident, then Damian…. 
Okay, so maybe he wasn’t too busy, he just never made time for Y/N. Which, the other never seemed to complain about. If they did complain to Alfred, the butler never said anything, and neither did their brothers. Y/N was just a ghost living in the manor that showed up for meals because it was expected, and then… left. 
Now he sits here, across from his child who doesn’t seem to understand the wrong done to them by not only Bruce, but the rest of the family. 
“Where did this come from?” Bruce doesn’t have the heart to tell them that it was because of Alfred that Bruce and the family finally realized what was wrong. The tour of Y/N’s old room, still kept clean due to Alfred’s insistence, but instead of clothes on the ground and signs of life within the room, it had photos of Y/N's past modeling gigs. Hundreds of photos, some framed, some not, as they covered the walls. Magazines that had Y/N on the front cover, magazine pages that had Y/N taking up the entire page.
The tour of the room-turned-practice room. Full of mirrors, and a 4 inch wide ply board used to practice walking. The shoes that were hidden in the closet, some too big and some too small. Blood staining the heel area of most of them as the image of Y/N practicing until and through the blisters filled all their heads. 
The meal regime, still written hastily down on the post it notes, and the exercise routine that didn’t match the calorie intake. The broken mirrors in Y/N’s closets and the clothes that now looked like they would be too big on the present-day Y/N that is sitting in front of Bruce.
The written blogs, printed and folded in one of their drawers, relating them back to their mother. Accusing them of the same thing they accused M/N. Highlighting Y/N’s faults, Y/N’s mistakes, Y/N’s features, and Y/N’s heritage. 
‘Child of drug-abuser model M/N L/N, Y/N L/N using the same drug?’ A 15-year-old Y/N posed in a way to show their figure was the picture that was used. 
‘Child of famous model M/N L/N able to hold up to the heat?’ Another photo of a 16-year-old Y/N looking exhausted as they walked out of a building. Eyes red and bags under their eyes. 
‘Beauty genes skipped a generation.’ Y/N is 17 in that photo. 
‘Y/N M/N will never be as beautiful as M/N L/N without extensive work.’  Y/N is 15 again in this photo. They had kept every critique, every mean and poorly written article about them, and kept them. Some of them were tweets, printed instagram photos, and magazines. 
Bruce could see the drastic changes in Y/N throughout the photos. The strict lifestyle changes affected their appearance and made them look even more like M/N. The Y/N in front of him, still beautiful, but Bruce knows the thoughts behind the perfect skin and perfect hair. 
It would seem that one of the things Y/N inherited from Bruce would be the internalizing of every little bad thing to happen, and deny that it has affected them while they wore the scar of it on their sleeves. 
“Bruce, you didn’t neglect me. I had food, clothes, a manor… where did you get all of that from?” 
“Emotional neglect is still neglect.” Y/N still looked confused, setting their fork down and controlling their expression as they processed that. Okay, so yeah maybe Bruce wasn’t an attentive father, but the man never hit Y/N. He never said anything about Y/N that Y/N would have to go to therapy for. Besides, Bruce’s lack of attention paved the way for Y/N to do this! 
Y/N’s lips formed a serene smile, “Bruce, I’m not mad that you didn’t pay attention to me. You were busy with your company, you are legally a dad of five kids, not everyone is going to get the same attention.” They took a sip of the water, hoping the conversation would end there. 
“It wasn’t that I was busy, I just never made time Y/N… and for that I am sorry.” Y/N hates this. Absolutely hates this. All of their excuses for Bruce are being shot down by Bruce himself and it was leaving Y/N feeling a little raw. Wounds they didn’t even know about now being rubbed with salt. 
Y/N stuck their tongue in their cheek and looked around, before smiling once more, “Bruce, I am literally giving you a way out for your guilt, which I still don’t understand why you’re feeling guilty, so why aren’t you taking it? 
“What are you hoping to do?” Bruce stared into E/C eyes and he could see the irritation in them. He set his fork and knife down, and leaned forward, “Is it wrong to try and mend broken bridges?” 
“The bridge was never broken in the first place.” 
“You’re right, and that’s because there was never a bridge in the first place.” Y/N cocked their head to the side, watching with an intense expression. Those E/C eyes flickering around, taking in the restaurant and narrowing their eyes, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, but did you rent out the entire restaurant?” 
“I did. So we can talk freely.” 
“The other ‘customers’ are Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian.” Bruce nodded, “Family dinner.” Y/N’s smile held no amusement, “You know, if you were anybody else I would be thinking this is a way for you to slide back in my life in hopes you could get some of my paycheck. But what is a model’s paycheck to Bruce Wayne’s?” Bruce chuckled, “You are making quite a bit. I’m happy you're conscious of your position now.” 
Y/N sipped the water, “How do you know how much I’m making?” Bruce only smiled and continued eating. He watched his child contemplate asking the question again, but then decided to drop it. 
‘Smart.’ Y/N continued to watch him, no longer touching the food and seeming unwilling to even look at the dessert menu. 
“You’ll visit when you’re back in the states, right?” It didn’t feel like a question. In fact, it felt more like a demand poised as a question to keep intentions hidden. Y/N gulped, “I’ll try.” 
“You should, Alfred misses you. Besides, Manhattan, New York isn’t too far from Gotham.” It was such an innocent sentence. One spoken with a smile on his lips and kind sky blue eyes. An innocent sentence, except Y/N has never once told them where they live. 
“A beautiful place, I can see why you wouldn’t want to leave. With windows like those and that giant skylight, it is truly a wonderful place befitting a top model such as yourself.” Y/N’s mouth went dry, and they could feel the sweat on the back of their neck as they continued to stare at Bruce. Their instincts implore them to go along with this. 
Urging them to carry on the conversation as they felt the gazes of four others on their back. They gave a wobbly smile, “Ye-yes. I really love it, I am super lucky that I managed to have enough saved up, and that I make enough to own a beautiful home such as that.” Bruce nodded, “As an apology for all the missed birthdays and Christmases, I decided to help out a bit.”
“...Excuse me?” Bruce ignored them, and instead looked at their plate that was still untouched from when Y/N had put down the utensils. He took a bite, “Do you not like your food? I can get something else made for you.” 
“N-no, I’m-I’m just full.” Bruce’s eyes narrowed before making a show of shrugging it off, “If you insist. Do know Alfred will want to feed you when you visit.” Y/N’s smile was becoming hard to maintain, “It was a pleasure to have dinner with you, Bruce, but I have to go. Long flight tomorrow and I need to be ready for next week.” Y/N fished out their credit card, but Bruce stuck his hand out, “Don’t worry about it, dinner has been paid for.” 
Y/N didn’t fight, only nodding and smiling pleasantly, “I suppose I will see you next week?” Bruce stood up, and brought Y/N into a tense hug. Feeling the bone and sinewy muscles in his rough hands. Y/N’s top is open back, exposing the shoulder blades and some of Y/N’s spine. Each one a small knob against skin, looking like the Rocky Mountains. 
“Safe flight, Y/N. See you at the shows next week.” Y/N gave a tight smile and quickly left. The four other pairs of eyes never left their back, and when finally in the safety of the streets, Y/N pulled out their phone and checked their Mortgage app. 
‘Successfully Paid!’ In bright green letters, bolded as if it were a game. 
It’s been paid off. Y/N now owed nothing on that house, and while that might have been freeing, it meant someone could now have access to their mortgage account. An alert sounded on their phone, and when Y/N saw that it was their bank account, notifying them of a deposit Y/N felt the breath leave their lungs. 
A large sum, one that had Y/N blinking at the amount of 0’s, was just deposited to their checking account. Right under their bill for walking on that runway. 
‘Shopping money, for when you visit.’ - Dick 
They have access to their bank account. Y/N’s family, because while Bruce was a solitary kind of guy he never was one to withhold information from his former Robins, now had access to their account. They could see what they were spending money on. 
They know where Y/N lives. From the sounds of it, Bruce was even in the penthouse. Y/N covered their mouth and tried to stifle a sob, the feeling of an invasion of their privacy weighing heavy in their chest. 
++++
Y/N stared at the article of clothing with anxiety. When Francesca had first shown them the clothing, it had only caused slight discomfort. Now, now that Y/N knows that their family is here, and watching, the clothing had felt like it was a metal ball. Francesca stood next to them, admiring Y/N’s hair and makeup, and how it all looked with clothing item. 
“I knew this would look great on you. As a Gothamite, this must feel great right? To be wearing the symbol of your City’s greatest vigilante.” Y/N swallowed down the bile, “He’s typically seen as the boogeyman, but yes. I suppose it does feel odd wearing the symbol.” 
The piece of clothing was quite scandalous, a bat symbol made out of gold rest across their chest, attached to a black silk fabric and lace. It hugged their body, bringing out the hip dips and long legs, as well as exposing their toned stomach. 
“Why didn’t you say anything about you being Bruce Wayne’s kid?” Francesca asked, and Y/N could only shrug, “Just… it just never came up.” Y/N loves that Francesca drops that. There are tons of models who have family issues. Y/N’s are minor. 
Not worthy of anything. 
“Y/N, for what it is worth, I do think you are a one in a century model. No one has taken to the runway quite like you have. I think if you had started the runway earlier you would already be a supermodel.” Y/N smiled at Francesca’s kind words, and they wondered just how they got so lucky to have befriended her. 
“Thank you.” 
“Models get ready!” Y/N took to the back of the line, being offered to close the show just after they had opened one. Another prestigious offer that Y/N gratefully took. Sighing heavily, they watched as the line grew shorter and the sound of cameras flashing and grew louder. 
Taking a deep breath, they steeled their breathing and controlled their expressions. Blocking out the world in the way they do best, strutting. The intensity of the flashes increased, and Y/N made a show of keeping their face neutral. 
Just how Batman does. 
They made a point to not look at the people in the front row. When they made it back behind the entry way, there was no time to catch their breath. They were ushered back into line for the final walk out, and Y/N wonders if they can all see how pale Y/N is. Can they see the sweat on their brow or the fact that their E/C eyes are terrified? 
“You did great Y/N!” 
“Looking beautiful Y/N.” 
“C’mon Y/N, after this its a party!” 
No, no they can’t see it because they are all focused on what Y/N wants them to be focused on. Y/N has spent countless hours into ensuring they loook beautiful without makeup, and ethereal in it, no one will care about their inner thoughts and turmoils. 
Y/N strutted to the music one last time, focusing on the flashing light and hoping that the photos they captured showed exactly what Y/N wants them to see. Once they were in the back, the models stripping and changing into comfortable clothes and all of them getting ready for the afterparty, Y/N stayed seated. The pads of their fingers running against the cold metal that was in the shape of a bat across their chest as their makeup artist and hairstylist undid all of their work. 
Francesca smiled, “You were great Y/N, I knew you would be the right person to pull this off.” 
“Thank you, what inspired this piece if you don’t mind me asking.” Francesca smiled, “Oh, I got a call actually. It was just a call to run the idea by me, but I loved it so much that I accepted it.” Y/N furrowed their brow, “A call?” They began to strip out of the clothing, but Francesca’s startled look made them pause. 
“...What?” 
“You’re not going to keep it on?” Y/N gave a confused look, “We don’t keep clothes, Francesca.” The stylist smiled, “Well, no. But Y/N, that was a commission for you.” Y/N stared at Francesca with a new found fear, and their mouth going dry as they processed it all. 
“Who… who did you say the call was from?” Francesca beamed, “Your father, who by the way I am offended you didn’t say anything about, Bruce Wayne.” Large hands clapped their shoulder, and Y/N would have shouted if it weren’t for the familiar smell of cologne. 
Turning around, they met Bruce’s blue eyes, and the blue eyes of their siblings. All of them dressed to the nines and eyeing the clothes. 
“Truly a wonderful piece, Ms. Gabbana. I could not thank you enough.” 
“Of course! Thank you for the idea!” Y/N felt their breath quicked when Dick’s hands gripped their wrist, and gently tugged them in his direction, “C’mon Y/N, you’ll be late to dinner. Alfred is making your favorite.” 
“At least let them change, Dick.” 
“Todd is right, a drive in that would be difficult. Not to mention that  it is snowing outside.” 
“Y/N, we have some clothes for you. They should be more comfortable then the clothes you came in.” Y/N couldn’t even say anything as they were dragged away, Bruce keeping Francesca busy while their brothers pushed them into a changing room. Dick smiling gently as he passed the bag of Y/N’s clothes, taken from their penthouse, into Y/N’s trembling arms. 
“Bruce paid for that outfit, so try not to ruin it, okay? We’ll be waiting out here for you.” Dick booped their nose, and left Y/N alone in the changing room taht only had a curtain for a door. With trembling hands, they searched the bag for their phone. They have to call someone. Cheryl will help them. So would Jon. Maybe even Maya! Y/N just needs to call– 
“Y/N, we have your phone out here, so don’t panic.” Y/N bit their lip to stop themself from sobbing. One thing. They just want one thing to go right today. 
A knock sounded on the wood that was hoolding the curtain, “Y/N, do you need help?” 
“N-no! No, I’m just try-trying to be gentle with the piece.” Bruce hummed, “Well, try and hurry. Alfred is excited to see you and is expecting us for dinner in three hours.” Y/N gulped, carefully stripping and putting on the sweats and hoodie. Clothes that still smell like their laundry detergent and shoes Y/N knows were in their closet. 
‘Dear God.’ They whimpered as they slipped on the comfortable pair of shoes, and bagged the shoes from teh show, and carefully picked up the article of clothing. The gold bat symbol shining mockingly at them. 
The curtain pulled open, and like a horror photo, the light from behind them casted and eerie shadow. Bruce’s face hidden in teh darkness as he reached his hand out for Y/N, knowing full well his child cannot run. 
“C’mon Y/N, time to go home.”
______________________________________________________________
A Part 2 will definitely happen! Kinda has to, to be honest.
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hotnbloodied · 7 months ago
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Hiiii can I request popular yandere classmate x oblivious reader, oh and can it be smut pleassee?
Thanks for your ask! I started randomly naming all my yanderes even if they are all one shots, I don't know if I want to keep it though. We'll see. This one almost fucking tore me to shreds, I might need a break after this. Anyway, hope you enjoy!
-˚ʚ♡ɞ˚HB˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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Yan!Popular Boy X Oblivious Reader (!!SMUT!!)
!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.
CW: not proof read, yous/yours used, gn reader, there is SEX, sloppy lewd writing, yandere tendencies, reader is kind of silly here. (LMK if I'm missing anything.)
!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!
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It was the first group project of the year! You and three other people were going to be randomly assigned together to work on a research project about something or another. The first two seemed like nice people but the third was Atticus, your friends have talked about him before. Wasn’t he popular or something? When the group met face to face you finally understood why, he was funny, charismatic and quite the looker. Your group decided to meet up in the library and you thanked your lucky stars that it seemed everyone was working well with each other. The other two in the group knew each other and were friends so when one of them had to leave later on in the day the other one did so as well leaving you and Atticus the only ones in the group still in the library.
Without the other two here, people were more inclined to come by to say hi to Atticus causing him to get distracted, you didn’t care much honestly, you had work to do after all. You overheard a couple of the people who came to talk to Atticus talk about some sort of group karaoke and that he should join them. “Sorry guys, I’m still with my group partner,” he apologized. You looked up, “it’s all good, this is just the first day after all.” Atticus looked at you incredulously. “See? Even your groupmate thinks it’s fine. Join us, Atticus, the girls are asking for you.” Internally he was annoyed, he already said no and the least his groupmate could do was back him up. Were you really that stupid? Eventually though, he was able to convince them to leave him alone. But when he turned expecting to see you still sitting there you were gone. Your stuff was still here so he assumed you went to get more material to research.
Scanning over the library he spots you eventually, struggling to reach for a book on a higher shelf. He sighs and starts walking over to assist but it turns into a run when he notices that you’re about to get toppled by said books. He covers you from getting hurt and curses at himself because having books fall on him fucking hurts. “What are you doing?” He says sternly, “if you can’t reach something ask for help.” He gasps, some of his true self leaked out, his image of a prince type is over. “Dang I’m sorry, you’re right. No sense in getting myself hurt, thanks! By the way, are you okay?” Suddenly, his heart raced, he didn’t know why. It might have been the way you looked under him currently, or it might have been the way you accept his rough tone with you, but either way he was going to explore it, explore you.
The project goes by smoothly, you still hang out with Atticus since the two of you exchanged numbers due to the project. You found it really weird though, each time you hung out with him and his friends, his friends were never able to make it. You hope you’re not scaring them away. Little did you know that if anyone is scaring people away it’s Atticus. The more time he spent with you was like heaven but also hell. He loved spending time and learning new things about you but, fuck, why were you not picking up any of the hints and flirty signs he was giving you?! Like today when it was just the two of you again, you two were at the movies and he tried to get an arm over your shoulder. “Oh my! Are you cold? Here, you can have my jacket.” And wrapped him up in your jacket! Sure, being able to smell your scent was nice but that’s not what he wanted! To rub salt on the wound too, after the movies his friends spotted him and invited you two to join them and you ACCEPTED! “Oh sorry, were you guys on a date?” One of his friends asked. “Oh no, we’re just chilling! We’d love to join you!” You responded. He almost choked up blood.
He went to his last resort and feigned sickness. Worry etched your face and you apologized as you helped carry him away. He convinced you to go to his place since it was nearby and was a bit hurt that you agreed so readily, you were going to be in a private space with him after all. Arriving at his place you helped him inside, all the way to his room. As you wished him better and got up to leave he tugged your arm. “Wait a minute,” he says. “Hm? What’s up, need something?” He hugs you, “I… I need you.” Not sure what he meant, but feeling like he needed this, you hugged him and both of you stayed like that for a while. That was, until his lower half decided to act up. “Do you, uh, need help with that?” You ask, almost too innocently. His face flushed, “help with this…?” “Of course, a boner is a natural part of your body, you know. Though I also heard that boners don’t happen just because someone is horny though…are you horny?” Atticus felt the blood rush to his head, all he could do was meekly nod.
You were sucking on his member, he could tell that you’ve done something like this before but maybe not too often due to the slight hesitation you exhibited. Regardless though he never imagined you would have been so willing to do this for him, should he have asked sooner? The sight of your mouth wrapped so prettily around his cock, he wasn’t the type that was quick to cum but just because it was you doing this act on him he felt close. He couldn’t have that, so he grabbed your shoulder and urged you on to his bed. “Take off your clothes,” he instructs. You did as he told, he gulped, he wanted this for how long now? It felt surreal that this was real. He couldn’t help but use his hands to explore your body, groping, touching, feeling your warmth. Your breathing quickened, you weren’t sure why he was taking so long, his exploration of your body started making you feel needy. You were close to telling him to hurry but let out a yelp when he started to suck and lick on your chest. He worked his way down to your lower area.
“What are you doing? Is all this necessary?” You ask him. “Please,” he begged, “I just need this, won’t you let me?” You whimpered, this is good and all but all this teasing is something you aren’t used to. He sucked and tongue prodded you for a while, you said that you would let him do what he wanted but you wanted to release soon and his tongue wasn’t doing that for you. “Hey, uh– hnn!!” Before you could say anything more he inserted a finger then two into you, rhythmically finger fucking you. Making sure to brush against your g spot each time. You were so close and Atticus knew it, so he stopped making you whine even louder. “Why did you stop?” “Grind on my dick,” he ordered. Sluggishly you got up and did as he was told. “Don’t even try to insert before I allow you to.” So you rubbed your sensitive area against him, slow at first but even you can grow impatient and you’ve been that for a while. Your wetness making a mess and with your bodies grinding against each other a squelching sound reverberated through the room along with the heavy panting and moaning. “Soon please?” You begged. Atticus needed you badly as well so he pushed you down on the bed again and aligned himself before pushing in causing you to scream out from the intrusion. He jackhammered you silly, “fuck, fuck, fuck, please. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” he chanted like a mantra, “I need you so bad.” What followed was one of the hardest orgasms you ever had. He unsheathed from you and quickly went to your face marking your face all over with his seed.
After a couple of beats you asked, “hey, uh, can I have some napkins?” “S-sorry,” he scrambled to his drawer and took out a box of tissues. After you cleaned yourself up you asked, “I’d like to borrow your bathroom.” He told you that it was down the hall. You took your clothes and left his room, when you came back you thanked him. “Well that was fun! I’m going to head home now. I’ll see you later alright?” And left. He was shocked, how fucking clueless can you be?? He was going to make sure you understood that you were his now and he was going to move heaven and hell to make sure that happens, his darling.
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partyanimal167 · 6 months ago
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Okay so I SHOULD be working on the next chapter of my Miguel fic...and I promise I am. But I can't stop thinking about this post from @luxthestrange with my lovely man, Crocodile (also ignoring the fact that I'm behind on updating his fic by alot...) So here's a little something to get the writer vibes flowing
cw: none, blurb, one-sided pining, gn reader
Sir Crocodile x Ex-Secretary!Reader
You never thought that you'd end up having a WANTED poster, but you made some questionable choices as a youth which made entering the 'normal' world extremely hard and ultimately not worth it after awhile.
You did managed to get a desk job, but that didn't last long when it was revealed to have owed some money to a dangerous, business-smart pirate named Sir Crocodile. Amidst the raid, you were called out by said captain as it was your questioning of the numbers and certain other connections that brought some attention to what your then-boss was doing. (Oops). Either way, you expected to get interrogated then disposed of.
You got a handshake and job offer instead.
Now of course, you didn't immediately join Crocodile's side, but he noticed your attention to details and ease of conversing with even the seemingly shadiest of connects. Crocodile didn't think you were a pirate, but you certainly weren't a normal civilian either.
The secretary offer came after Crocodile witnessed you boldly standing up to one Warlord (Doffy) when he tried to barge into Crocodile's office while he was on a phone call. You were merely passing by. But you knew that Sir Crocodile didn't like to be interrupted, and the secretary then wasn't holding his place against the giant man.
Doflamingo was pissed. But Crocodile approved.
So then started the years of partnership and endless work where you kept tabs and details organized for Crocodile's use while you were rewarded in both finances and work benefits.
You enjoyed it, so you were a bit let down when things hit the fan and your boss in jail.
However, you were able to start an underground consulting business while hiding from the Marines. It was quite successful. When news came of Crocodile's escape, it was easy enough to track him down and send him a wealth of information ranging from old contacts to accounts that were still untouched. As a courtesy...
Sir Crocodile was quick to send over a bouquet of flowers and a beautiful invitation to welcome you back to working for him. You gracefully declined citing your new business adventure and gave warm wishes.
And so started a relentless array of attempts of winning you back. Several initial consultations for 'new clients' were just lunches of the man trying to convince you. Each time, you'd just sit and listen before taking the check for your time. Gifts of your favorite fragrances, coffees, pastries, and the like were always welcoming you either home or to your office. It did surprise you a bit how much the man knew about you. Your actual clients seemed to nervous to be caught between you both since Crocodile was trying to scare them off, and you were stern in getting your demands and continuing your work.
After some time though, it had been silent. You caught wind of Crocodile's new partners, and you felt some relief that others were able to take on and work with the man. Things would be easier now. You'd both cross paths maybe as partners or each other's clients in the future.
A knock at the door rattles your calm evening and tea. You stood from your living room and peek out your peephole. However, you didn't see anything. You were just about to walk away when you could've sworn you smelled a familiar robust smoke and opened the door.
You nearly gasped when you see Crocodile on his knees with the largest ramo of lilacs, Adam's needles, and roses you'd ever seen--although they were on the ground under his hand. He looked up at you with both desire, stress, and relief.
He puffed out his smoke before yanking out his cigar and pleading. "You are the most competent, skilled, and amazing person I know. I need you back in my life even more now. Please dear, come back to me."
~~~
Teehee
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vampiric-tempt · 4 months ago
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౨ৎ — eustass kid x injured reader!🍒 ☆
✦ gender neutral ⸝⸝⸝ sfw. oneshot
(♡) synopsis: Eustass kid didn’t know at first. He thought everyone was fine after the battle, but when he notices your absence during the party- he finds you in a terrible state.
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✦ The crew kicked the remaining bodies off the ship. The dead marines who believed they stood a chance against the notorious Kid Pirates, now littered the sea.
Kid raised his fist in triumph causing the crew to roar out in cheers. “Who’s ready for a party!” He yelled. More cheers erupted from the crew. The boisterous group rushed to grab drinks for the party. Killer, however, couldn’t help but notice that Kid’s partner was nowhere to be found.
“Hey Kid.” Killer called out to him. “Have you seen y/n?”
Kid hummed and skimmed his eyes across the deck. “Eh they’re probably huddled in the med bay like always. I’ll get them later when the party really starts.”
Killer frowned beneath the helmet. He wished Kid would be more caring, but that’s just his nature. “Alright then.” Killer dropped the subject and left to start cooking.
The party was now hours in and yet your presence was still absent. Your absence worried the massacre soldier. Killer made his way over to his captain and knocked him on the head. “Oi!”
Kid hissed and turned to Killer, the tips of his ears red from all the alcohol. “Whattt.”
“Your partner, did you forget about them?” Killer says, his voice laced with annoyance.
Kid grumbled. “They’re probably tired and went to sleep.”
“Stop making excuses Kid, they would have told you that. Why does it seem like I care more about them than you do, huh?”
“Shut yer mouth, if ya liked them too I wouldn’t mind. Y’know us.” Kid grunted, picking himself up from the table. “Alright, I’ll go check on em, you stop worrying.”
Killer’s shoulder dropped in relief. “It would definitely satisfy my conscience.”
Kid grumbled once again and made his way down to the med bay. As soon as he reached your designated room, he barged in without a care of your privacy. “Y/nnn! Where the hell are ya- the partie’s already begun!”
No answer.
“Y/n?” He calls again, a bit quieter. He notices the room’s lights are off, the only light source coming from the doorway. He hears a shuffle in front of him, and Kid squints his eyes to see the huddled figure of his partner hidden beneath his shadow’s silhouette.
“Y/n.” He repeats, walking toward your frame. “The hell are you doing on the ground?” Kid kneels down and his breath hitches when he notices you panting. The sight of you was sickly. “Y/n, what the fuck!” He grabs your face. “Look at me, mouse.” Your expression was dazed as you muttered incoherent words to him. “I can’t understand what yer saying, but lemme get you up.”
He lifts your body, a pained whine leaving your lips. Kid hurries and lays you on the med bay bed. Switching on the light, Kid’s eyes widen at your state. Blood gushed from your lower abdomen, your hand shakily putting pressure on your wound. “Fuck!” Kid curses and rushes to place gauze on it. “How come you didn’t say anything!”
In the midst of Kid’s attempt to help you, Killer walks in on the situation, his mind quickly registering what was happening. Killer’s mouth remained shut as he rushed to his friend's side.
“Stupid mouse.” He mutters under his breath.
Kid, now silent, let Killer take over. All he could do was stare, his drunk haze now filled with worry and self-loath for not noticing sooner.
“Hey,” Killer’s voice echoed, but Kid was lost in his thoughts. “Hey!” He called again louder. Kid’s eyes shot up to Killer’s mask. “You good Kid?”
Kid nods. “Yeah, uh yeah. I’m fine. How are they?”
“Stabilized, they’ll be fine. If we waited any longer they could’ve-”
“Yeah. Thanks Killer.”
“For what?”
“For reminding me to be a better partner to them. God what the hell. I could’ve lost them cuz they didn't say anything!”
Killer sighs. “They take it from you.”
Kid raises a brow. “Tch- whatever. Tell the crew I’m done for the night. I’ll be here till they wake.”
“Of course.” Killer pats Kid’s shoulder on his way out. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. Mistakes happen y’know.”
“Yeah…I know.” ✦
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💌 ꒰author's note: I've been absent for a year and I finally decided to start writing again so I apologize if it's not that great. I used to write MK1 fanfictions, but I decided I might write more stuff on this blog !!꒱ ᘏ (🌷) . ˚◞🕯꒱
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