#i don't know why this turned out green
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Hi!! Could I please have a gender neutral rottweiler moodboard with no paci? Thank you so much!
Here you go!!
#rottweiler#!!!#aren't they so cute??#i love dogs#like#i am one#but i love them too#also#I'm going to be honest anon#i don't know why this turned out green#or when it happened#the moodboard gods just sent green vibes my way idk#anyway i hope you like it#sfw interaction only#moodboard#sfw agere#age regression#sfw littlespace#agere#petre moodboard#sfw petre#pet space#puppyre moodboard#puppyre#pup regression#puppy regression
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"Mesmerizer x 1010"
youtube
So, I haven't drawn anything lately because I've been severely depressed (again). When that happens, I seem to always end up drawing Malt Shop!1010~
Anyway, I've had this crossover idea on the back-burner for a while, because I try to avoid too much "it's a reference" kinda art, but I really needed something kinda "brainless" to bring me back from my despair~ (Ironic, given the song's themes).
I made an alternate skintone version because the effect of the eyes turning black doesn't work as well when the scleras are already black XP.
#gbunny draws#1010#nsr#no straight roads#white 1010#green 1010#mesmerizer#vocaloid#video#if you want an estimate for how long i've been sitting on this#this is why i was looking for that pic of White in suspenders#the original idea was to pair it with one of the malt shops#but it turned out to already be so similar#that i decided to just use my designs for both#and yeah#i know that line doesn't happen when this part of the animation does#but i had to pick one line to isolate and that's the one i chose#the ones that do happen don't work as well isolated#Youtube
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Jonathan Sims and Aromanticism as being disconnected from and unrelatable to other children, As never being romantically interested in someone during your school years because you don’t have time for that nonsense, you’re focused on your studies, you don’t like spending time around others. As no one being romantically interested in you until college – at that point, do you even know what romance is? What it feels like? As dating someone because they like you – You might as well date Georgie, she’s interested in you, and you like her well enough as a friend. Is this what love is? As not being interested in sex either. What is there to define the difference between romantic and platonic feelings that doesn’t involve physicality? As going into asexual spaces and always seeing the “we may not like sex but we still love people and want relationships like anyone else!!!” takes. As already being closed off, rude, an acquired taste for most. When it’s already hard for most people to want to be your friend - romantic relationships seem even more unrealistic. Already having a lack of personal relationships in your life - not exactly helped by not being interested in most people’s idea of “romantic relationships.” As being less aware of things like flirting and romance than most (because of said lack of personal relationships your entire life). As being completely unaware of someone else liking you for months/years even when it seemed like, really really obvious to everyone else. As having less and less people around you who don't hate your guts or are dead and having the one person who doesn't hate you, wanting to date you? Like romantically? As feeling inhuman. As questioning your humanity. As trying to define your humanity through romance. As being green themed and covered in eyes and becoming the lynchpin of the apocalypse<333
#words#LOL when writing about how i ciew certain tma characters and their aromanticism i sometimes get so caught up in being like#umm is it problematic to write about an aro character who like#fits into various 'misconceptions' and 'stereotypes' about being aro?...even though im literally aro#and a lot of 'misconceptions/stereotypes/whatever r things people tend to actually think esp while figuring out they're aro LOL. like#this is just what various aspects kf jon remind me of...like what i think he'd think at different points regarding hir aromanticism.#in my head. he never really ''figured it out'' and ever labeled himself as aro throughout the events of tma or before.#he went into the apocalypse to murder elias and then get murdered by martin being like#im weird. im a weirdo. i dont fit in. im just like that. and then died#LOOL some of this is stuff thar i thoufht that kept me from just realizing i was aro too at the time lol#but i mean#jon is also just like that. TO ME!!!#sorry don't know why i feel the need to defend my decisions regarding my own damn thoughts on jon and aromanticism LOL#teehee this sounds so serious but like it really isn't this is just how jon turns out to me in my head.#but in reality this post is like teehee to me in my head. jon is aro because he is green and covered in eyes and a monster#muah muah#oh shit almost forgot#Jonathan sims#the Magnus archives#tma#aro#aromantic#lol#im sorry but jon questioning his humanity bc of his descent into becoming the archivist -> romance and love always being used in our#society as defining features of 'humanity' -> jon trying to define his humanity through various things thst don't ACTUALLY define humans#and are mostly arbitrary..
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trigun (talking original anime not stampede/manga here as I can’t comment on those yet) is actually genuinely really solid in terms of themes and repeating imagery. the way the very setting of a desert with the associated resource scarcity plays into it all. you get monopolies over water where one family holds everything whilst the surrounding areas are left to rot. but then you have small patches of greenery that could have amounted to nothing but due to years of nurturing they’ve grown up into forests. it’s about what you do with what you’re given and what you choose to pass on to others.
#trigun#trigun spoilers#<- is it spoilers if the series came out over two decades ago. eh. let's play it safe#keep thinking about rem -> vash -> wolfwood and rem/vash vs knives in the whole debate about sacrificing one to save the many#because honestly both rem and knives' opposing philosophies are extremes and the only reason vash survived by rem's philosophy for so long#was because he wasn't human. rem and wolfwood don't have that and so the price they pay for moral purity is steep#(and honestly sometimes you do get scenarios where by choosing not to interfere it means more people suffer and vash is called out on this)#there's a reason why vash decides to carve his own path in the end and that's because both of the extremes are untenable#but he can still hold what he's been taught dear and move forward. people make mistakes and all they can do is try to be better#and that's all humanity as a whole can do. water and resources can be taken advantage of. but they can also be shared communally#and so in the series there is the hope that with water and nurturing eden will return and this desert planet will turn green#(also the christian imagery cracks me up but unlike with death note and eva I can't really call it faux symbolism because it kinda fits)#(and the gunpoint dilemma + cross scenes (rem -> wolfwood -> meryl) are so lovely if painful to watch#because the only time we know the 'right' choice was made is the last instance. the others are left to speculation)
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Tim could not help but clasp his gloved hands together as he watched the faintly glowing, floating hero in front of him. Phantom looked around the small office with wide eyed curiosity, hair floating as though he was underwater, bright green eyes never staying in one place for very long.
Tim's gaze dropped back down to the paper that had been placed in front of him. It was very neatly organized, with numbers and bullet points. It looked like a lot of effort had gone into it.
Tim knew that Bruce would give his left kidney for this paper. Or for any hint to Phantom's identity. For someone who seemed so unreservedly open, Phantom was a complete mystery.
No one knew who he was, where he was from, when he was from (sometimes it seemed like he was from the future and sometimes he said things that was like he'd been in prehistory personally), or what his power set was (his most common response to showcasing a new power in front of the Justice League was a shrug and a, "I forgot I could do that"). He was polite. Tim hadn't come across a language that Phantom couldn't speak, although he could only read English.
Tim tapped the paper in front of him. "This is..." He trailed off. He didn't know how to explain how overwhelming this is.
"A set of contingencies for dealing with me if I should ever turn evil, yes," agreed Phantom. Calmly. Easily. As if he wasn't creating upheaval in Tim's mind.
Tim stared at Phantom. Phantom was still interested in his office. Well. In Red Robin's office. "Why are you giving this to me?" he asked. "Everyone knows that Batman's the one who has contingencies on everyone."
Phantom nodded, still not meeting Tim's gaze. "True," he acknowledged. "Everyone knows." Those bright green eyes turned to Tim. "But I don't trust Batman."
Tim opened his mouth to argue. To point out how everyone trusted Batman, even after a villain stole his plans and tried to wipe out the League. Everyone looked up to Batman.
Phantom's next words froze Tim's throat. "I trust you."
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FIRST masterlist! This masterlist has all my writing from 06/02/24 up until 01/10/24 — for my recent works click on my SECOND MASTERLIST <3
Men In Uniform Do It Best!
Dirty Lil' Secrets
A Picture Lasts Long (But Not As Long As That D*ck)
I'm Addicted, I Admit It!
Give Me Tough Love
Never Ever Seen This Before!
We Don't Have No Babies!
Like A Fever
Bad Things (To You)
Prettier When Messy!
Care For You!
Green-eyed Monster
So Lonely In My Mansion!
Kiss Me More!
Girl, I Do This Often
Cause, I Love Freaks!
Sl*t Me Out!
Match My Freak!
WAP!
R U Mine?
Hot To Go!
Girl, You Earned It!
I'm A BIG Stepper!
BODY-ODY!
SOOO ANXIOUS
Long Overdue!
THIS P*SSY DEPRESSED!
The Family Matter?!
I-T G-I-R-L!
I Lasted Ten Rounds!
BRAT!
She's My Vitals!
Three's a Crowd (But Four...) — “So, are they like holograms? Or can you really touch them?” “Why? Trynna cop a feel, sweetheart?” In which you and your boyfriend find very unconventional uses for his powers.
Why Can't I Keep My Fingers Off You? [Part 1] [Part 2] — There were two things missing in the scene in front of you: 1. The aphrodisiac chocolate your friends had given as a gag gift last Christmas that had been hidden away in the back of your refrigerator. 2. Your dear fiancé.
Dream A Little Dream — For the strongest, it was a privilege to dream. Especially when his dream is you.
Initiation! — “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?
One More? Please? — A kiss always solves everything! But when a kiss turns into something more…well, it’s only a desperate attempt to unseal yourselves from this damned prison realm, right? Right?
Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officers... — You don’t know what’s faster - how fast you were speeding down the highway, or how fast you’re on your knees for the hot officers that just so happen to pull you over.
Hope They Catch Us — When you’re on-screen, it’s always a rivalry to see who’s best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.
Unmistakably Yours — In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.
Madam Gojo — Gojo Satoru, the strongest clan leader in all of Japan - and the most dangerous, too. You, rejected by the elders, and totally not his future bride, right? Right?
Can't Touch Me (Like Gojo) — In which intentionally making your fríend-with-benefíts jealous ends up with more benefits than you’d think.
The Heir — No, your clan leader husband won’t stop until he gives you an heir. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alive.
The Call — After an explosive fight with your boyfriend, you really should feel sorry about being swept up by the blue-eyed stranger at the club - but it’s so hard when he kisses you like that.
Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy — He knows that you would be one of his favorite stories from his travels. And you know that you want nothing more than to stay by his side. After meeting an alluring cowboy at Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon, both of you are sure of one thing - this must be fate.
Go For It, Gojo! [Part 1] [Part 2] — You wouldn’t fuck Gojo Satoru even if you were paid…is what you thought exactly five minutes before you were shoved against the wall of this cramped closet, his face stuffed in your soaked panties.
Unhoneymooners!? — The universe was surely playing a joke on you. Here you were, trapped on a luxury getaway with your - dangerously handsome, extremely obnoxious - ex. Either you were going to kill each other or end up pinned beneath him, split apart on his cóck. You just didn’t know what would come first.
AITA For F*cking My Sugar Daddy's Son?! — When your sugar daddy just isn’t paying attention to you, can you really be blamed for fúcking his son? Especially when his son is absolutely obsessed with you.
Bad Boys Bring Roses — You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?
The Way You Kiss Me — The four times Satoru tries really hard not to kiss you - his best friend’s pretty younger sister. And the one time he doesn’t.
Isn't That Sweet? (I Guess So) — Oh no! Why do your pantíes keep disappearing? Well, maybe your hot roommate knows the answer…
Haunting You — A bIoody trail of vampire attácks, a political marriage, and four suitors you’re forced to choose from - all haunting you. But none as much as the mysterious stranger that makes everything in you scream that you might just be fated for the very thing your kingdom is trying to escape from.
You'll Taste Me Too! — How do you last three days on a work trip with the man you hate the most in the office? You don’t - you end up pinned underneath him, instead.
We Neva Play! — Turns out, the “r” in rivals stands for “really good séx” when a mission becomes a little too hot to handle.
Something Stupid — Five times the strongest would rather díe than tell you he loves you, and the one time he almost does. Almost.
Initiation! — “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?
Like An Animal — Of course Toji doesn’t want any more kids. Of course he’s lying as he stuffs your pretty cúnt full of his cúm for the third time tonight.
Whiskey, Neat, With a Side of You — When your date stands you up, you’re lucky that the hot bartender is more than happy to keep you company!
Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officers... — You don’t know what’s faster - how fast you were speeding down the highway, or how fast you’re on your knees for the hot officers that just so happen to pull you over.
F*ck You! (Literally) — Of course, you hated your ex-husband. Of course, you found yourself in bed with him on your wedding anniversary.
Government Hooker — With the fame and glory of being an international popstar comes the inevitable threat of an overzealous stalker. You just didn’t think that it would also come with a very sexy, buff bodyguard behind your every move.
Madam Zenin — There’s nothing that rouses Toji, the infamous head of the Zenin clan, nothing that will make him lose control - until they take what’s most important to him. You.
Brooklyn Baby — Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. Said Suguru doesn’t want to fuck anyone else but you. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.
Initiation! — “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?
Golden Boy — Falling right back in love with the cult leader you’re supposed to kíll? Happens more often than you’d think.
Initiation! — “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?
A Million Dollar Baby! — Turns out, rent can be paid in much more than one way.
Welcome To The Itadori's! — Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does.
FIVE! — Five hours - it’s all it takes for Choso’s baby fever to take over. After all, you’d look so pretty with his kid - five of them, in fact.
Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) — When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.
Freak On The Cam! — Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?
Can't Touch Me (Like Gojo) — In which intentionally making your fríend-with-benefíts jealous ends up with more benefits than you’d think.
Exes who...
Love Is Blind
“She My Best Friend, Yeah We Not a Couple.”
Wanna Do Bad Things To You
I Wanna Get Freaky On Camera
Lemme Ride, Baby!
Can I Fill You Up, Baby?
"Pull On It. Harder."
Little Heaven
©2024 tonycries. All work belongs to @tonycries. Do NOT repost, modify, translate or plagiarize in any way on ANY platforms. This includes themes, headers, and pinned.
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I am going feral over the costumes in this show
There's a lot of good things going on and for every criticism I have, I can find something good happening elsewhere
Rings of Power’s elven clothing & armour - design appreciation
Requested by @klngfili thank you I hope you like these!! ♥
My favorites are easily Elrond’s blue and gold outfit, Arondir’s chestplate and Galadriel’s armour.
rop design team very good job thank you
#the team is doing a wonderful job and I know I wouldn't have such strong emotions about the costumes if they weren't#sort of rant in bound - not really I'm just discussing where I wish they'd gone in a different direction#for context - I am a theatre major who specializes in design (set and light) but I'm doing a costume practicum next semester#i have to discuss stuff like this all the time#I'll admit#I don't particularly like the shapes they chose for gil-galad and elrond#they feel really boxy and structured for the elves#especially when put next to the more flowing outfits we see on galadriel and celebrimbor and even arondir to an extent#although arondir's also pretty boxy#but i think it gets offset by the fact his cloak doesn't hide his body and isn't all bunched up on him#i don't know why - i associate elves with curves and loops with very few straight lines and rigid shapes#I think in the case of gil it's the fault of the literal X over his chest because those sashes???? what are they???#are the same shade (close enough) to his cloak so it looks like |X|#I wish gil's outfit had a contrasting color - like that deep green we see in a lot of other outfits#his outfit confuses me#elrond's it all comes down to the cape and the weird feathers on his shirt#why with the feathers? they look weird and I don't understand the reasoning behind them#and the way his cape drapes just bothers me because again - it turns him into a box#i wish it didn't cover so much of his arm and i wish his cloaks didn't look so heavy#but#contrasting gil - i like his color palette#i don't know#i could probably write a full paper on my feelings about the costumes in this show#because there's a lot of good shit#and i wish i had the opportunity to pick the designers' brains and find out why they chose to do some of these things#like they're not outright bad#i'm aware everything i just said is all my opinion#but i want to know why they did these things
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Being a waitress/bottle girl at a club that caters to monsters.
While serving a table of orcs their drinks you hear whistling from behind you and turn towards the table of werewolves calling you over,
"C'mere Doll, why don't you spend some time with us? It'd be better than looking at those ugly green faces."
The rest of the table barks out laughter and all you do is look back at the table of orcs to gauge their reactions, just incase you have to call the bouncer to stop another brawl.
"Aw yeah? Cus your slobbering snout's much more attractive, ain't it?"
One orc yells and the others hurl their chosen insults across the table as well. The werewolves grumble and snarl insults back and you just stand in the middle of this, trying to think of an escape.
"Maybe she ain't at your table for a reason!"
One of the orcs claims boldly and all the other orcs voice their agreement while the wolves clearly disagree.
"Why don't we let the lady decide." A wolf with greying fur suggests with a smirk and both tables seem to agree on this being just a wonderful idea.
"Well love? Who's better then? Us or the mutts?"
"Aye! The real question is who can treat her better, isn't that right, Doll?"
The attention of the two tables are now on you, waiting for your answer with baited breaths and half hard cocks probably.
"....I prefer minotaurs."
This deadpan response takes a few seconds to sink in before a chorus of disagreements and further arguing commences, but you're already making your way back towards the bar, you're sure they don't mind watching your tiny skirt bounce as you walk away.
That answer wasn't random, it's actually been the only thing you could think of all day. Your Minotaur coworkers cock reaching deep into your stomach while he pounds you into next week. That might be why so many customers have been extra forward with you today, maybe they can smell the need on you.
You finally make it back to the bar, getting ready to end your shift and finally get some relief.
"You causing trouble?"
You whip around to meet just the monster you were so desperate to see. He stands at the edge of the bar in his bouncer uniform, his sleeves hug his biceps very nicely and you nearly purr imagining what that arm would feel like around your throat, while he pounds you from behind. He gazes down at you with a knowing look.
"Me? Oh, I would never."
You look up at him and play with the collar of your shirt, successfully drawing his eyes to the generous amount of cleavage your uniform provides.
He huffs in amusement.
"They don't seem to think so."
He tilts his head and massive horns towards the two tables you just left where the occupants are all peering over one another to see the interaction between you and the bovine beast in front of you.
You scoff, take his arm and turn him around so that he's only focusing on you.
"I'm off. You're off in 15...maybe you could come by my place again....or something?"
You nervously bite your lip and he doesn't know why you're getting nervous.
You weren't nervous when you sent him that video of your stuffed cunt clenching around the Minotaur themed dildo you've had since before you were seeing eachother. You definitely weren't nervous when you sent him another video 6 hours ago of you stuffing said dildo into your perfect pussy in the employee bathrooms before slipping your tiny panties on over it, keeping the silicone deep in your cunt.
He pulls out his keys and leans down closer to you,
"Be ready when I get to the car."
You nearly squeal in excitement as you grab the keys and reach up to kiss his cheek. As you skip out the door to his car he looks back at the two tables just to revel a little in the disappointed grumbles and huffs emitting from the two groups as they go back to their drinks.
𓄀
#monster fucker#monster x human#monster x reader#monster lover#monster fucking#exophelia#monster boyfriend#terato#minotaur x reader#minotaur x human#Minotaur#fem!reader
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Is it possible for Simon's MOB request him to dress up as Ghost for Halloween? and of course she will wear whatever Simon want her to
But if you don't want to bring Ghost into MOB's universe, just skip this. We completely understand 😉
it's about time, huh?
mail-order bride (18+)
when simon comes home after a long two weeks away, he's pleasantly surprised by what waits for him. there's carved pumpkins lined up on the porch ascending up the steps, and there's candles lit inside, making them flicker. along the porch railing, there's garlands with orange lights, and there's a black feathered wreath on the door. simon smiles under his mask, even wider once he sees the cats staring at him from the window. their tails are swishing, and he waves at them before putting the key into the door and coming inside.
it smells like pine. there's candles on everywhere, making the entire living room glow a soft orange.
all the throw pillows are different. they've been changed. they are made of velvet and linen, with some of them having fall prints on them like black cats and pumpkins and autumn-colored checkers. there's pumpkin motifs and leaves everywhere, like all the colors everywhere have been changed to browns, reds, and sage greens. you poke your head out from behind the fridge, smiling as you see simon by the door, taking off his boots and jacket. he showered before coming back from work; you can tell because he's not wearing the skull balaclava, and he has regular clothes on.
"hey," you greet him softly, waving. "you're in early."
"couldn't wait," simon murmurs. "had to come see my girls."
you snort, rolling your eyes, but you shut the fridge before coming into the living room. you wrap your arms around his neck easily, tugging him close as you snatch his mask off and kiss him softly.
"i missed you, simon," you whisper between kisses, and he wraps those big arms around you tight, cradling the back of your head as he kisses you back.
"i missed ya more."
you giggle when he picks you up a little, turning you in a little circle before setting you back down. it baffles you how easily he takes your weight; barely even grunts, just smooths his hands down your thighs and picks you up with that wicked, crooked smile.
"loved wot ya did wit' the house, luv," simon adds, chuckling low. your eyes light up, and you look around, beaming at the cozy couch you've made up with the new blankets and pillows you had bought. you giggle, looking back at him, cupping his cheeks to bring him closer to you.
"the kettle's on. why don't i make you some tea? we have so much to catch up on," you coo, and simon blushes, easily, and you giggle when he tries to look away. "simon!"
he slips a hand up your skirt to stop your laughing. you gasp, your breath caught in your throat, and simon hums as he kisses along your jaw, chapped lips sucking at the skin until you're liquid in his arms.
"mmm...a cuppa sounds nice, baby," simon chuckles in your ear, and you nod, pulling away slowly. he squeezes your ass gently before letting you go, kissing under your ear before he collapses onto the couch, sinking into it. he grabs one of the thick new blankets thrown over it, and you come into the room a few minutes later with his mug of tea and a big smile on your face. "oh, ya didn't have ta do tha'...i-i meant--"
"i know what you meant, simon," you say softly, setting it down next to him. "i wanted to, okay?"
he smiles a little, nodding, and then he reaches for your hand to pull you into his lap.
"okay, hafta catch up, luv," simon sighs. "tell me wot happened while i was gone. want ta know everythin'."
you shrug, leaning back against his chest.
"did a lot of shopping," you tell him. "a lot. sorry about the bills, simon."
"don't worry about the bills," he says firmly, and you smile a little when he takes your hands and squeezes them gently. "tell me more."
"i bought mostly stuff for the house," you smile. "all the halloween stuff. i left a few pumpkins for us though. that we can do together."
"mmm. i'd like tha'."
"and i bought...some halloween costumes," you finish, looking over your shoulder at him. he raises a brow, grinning, and he tilts his head to the side.
"you wanna dress up, tha' it, luv?"
"well...i bought a lot of costumes for me," you continue. "i...i was hoping...that..."
simon nudges you a little. you swallow, squeezing his hands, and he kisses your shoulder gently.
"well...i was hoping you could put on your..." you clear your throat, "i mean...you could be...ghost...and i-i could be--"
"ya want me ta wear my mask?" simon asks, leaning in a little. he puts his face into the crook of your shoulder, and you shiver a little. "want me to be ghost...not simon...tha' it, baby?"
you can't meet his eyes. you shrink a little in his lap, and he buries his face further, sucking gently on the curve of your jaw.
"woteva ya want, swee'eart," simon mutters. "can have woteva ya want."
"simon--" you gasp, arching your back, and he wraps a strong arm around your middle and holds you against him.
"shhh--" simon quiets you. "'s olright. why don't ya wait 'ere for me, aye? sit right there, lookin' so pretty..." he wraps a big hand around your throat, holding you there, squeezing gently. "why don't ya sit there, and i'll go put somethin' on, and we can practice?"
"p-practice?"
"tha's right," simon licks his lips. "got to see if our costumes will look nice together, don't we? got to make sure we match."
"y-yeah..."
"will ya wait 'ere, swee'eart? wait right 'ere for me?"
"yes. yeah. yes, simon." you're breathless, shaking practically, and simon tucks you against the couch before grabbing his bag and heading into the bedroom. he gives you a wink before the door shuts, and you put a hand over your chest and breathe deeply as you settle there.
your husband never fails to make your head spin. he occupies your every thought; the way he loves, the manner in which he takes care of you, the insatiable look in his eyes whenever his eyes are on you. never in your life have you ever been more at the center of someone else's world. never in your life has every word that leaves your mouth been so akin to some kind of revered gospel.
everything you say matters. nothing that you do can be wrong. nothing that you feel is ever dismissed, nothing that you want is ever not given to you, everything in your life is sunshine and rainbows and fuck, he's so fucking hot--
your brain goes fuzzy when the bedroom door opens again. it's someone you don't recognize, not really.
even when you've visited him on base, he somehow still maintains himself as simon in your presence. when you look into those eyes, you always recognize them. they are soft, they are kind, they are the ones you have always known.
whoever stands in front of you isn't someone you've met yet. he's taller, somehow. maybe it's the way he stands. feet spread apart in those steel-toed boots, cargos snug around his massive legs. your eyes start low, taking in the holsters that are positively squeezing his big thighs to his waist. mmm, his solid middle. that place that never gives, that feels full and warm when you've fed him a nice meal, now he uses it as his own personal armor. he wears a windbreaker under his tact vest, but he's pushed the sleeves up to his elbow, his tattoos on display. they've never looked so right on him until now. you follow the line of his chest to his face.
his face. his second skin. you've seen this mask before, that dirty skull that he never washes properly that frames his eyes, making him sunken and dead. he's smeared eye-black on under it, and his eyes are voids. they sink, the whites barely peeking through, and as you look at him, really look at him, you don't recognize what you see.
he's so big. he's never looked bigger. he takes up the entirety of the doorway, and you shift on the couch as you take in all of him this way.
it's like seeing someone new. it's like being married to two different men. it's simon, surely, somewhere under there, but whoever you're in the presence of isn't simon.
"hmm..." you giggle nervously, standing up. he narrows his eyes a little, flexing his hands in and out of fists, and you point to the bedroom behind him. "i'm...i'm gonna go get the costumes i bought. and...and we can pick one for me."
he blinks, but he says nothing. he walks slow, past you, and you hold his eyes as he does, and he holds yours. you turn to keep eye contact as he takes a seat on the couch, spreading his legs wide, resting his hands on his thighs. you swallow, nervous under his intense stare, and you hurry towards the bedroom to fish the costumes out of the closet.
you look at yourself in the mirror. you look frazzled. your entire body feels hot, too hot, and your palms are clammy. you wipe your face gently before going back into the living room, where ghost is waiting exactly where you left him.
it looks like he hasn't moved an inch.
you hold up a few of the hangers, showing off the outfits on them.
"o-okay, i got a few. some of them are...kind of dumb," you laugh nervously. you hold up a stupid nurse outfit. it's a short little dress that would show off your thighs and way too much cleavage, and ghost considers it for a few long moments before he shakes his head. you clear your throat, nodding. "yeah, this one was dumb."
you toss it aside, holding up another one. it's a fitted bodysuit with a matching witch's hat, and ghost shakes his head at this one as well. you toss it aside to show him the next. he turns down every single one. little red riding hood. alice in wonderland. even the cute little corset angel dress that you really thought would work.
you play with your fingers nervously, looking at the costumes that you've tossed over a chair. you frown a little, curling your toes, the picture of quietly frustrated as you think about what to say next. ghost sits there, unbothered, staring at you as if he's waiting for something. he blinks slow.
"i-i don't understand what you want," you whisper. "i...i thought you'd like at least one of them, i mean..." you run a hand over your face, shrugging. "what do you want me to wear, nothing? i--"
ghost tilts his head to the side, making your breath catch in your throat.
what do you want me to wear, nothing?
your lips part, and you take a few deep breaths. nothing. he wants you to wear nothing. simon--well, simon would say differently. simon would tell you to wear whatever you wanted. he'd tell you that you would look beautiful in every single one, and you think maybe he'd ask you to wear the nurse outfit just to be cheeky.
not ghost. ghost doesn't like the theatrics. ghost doesn't care for the game. he doesn't chase, everything he wants comes to him, or he makes it come to him. everything he desires ends up between his teeth, and that includes the woman that's wearing his fucking ring standing in front of him.
you take a timid step forward. he narrows his eyes under the mask, watching curiously, and when you make your way between his legs, he stares up at you, right into your eyes. you smile.
"you might be a ghost, but you're still my husband," you say softly. "so will you do the honors for me?"
ghost hums lowly. he reaches for you, gripping the base of your shirt, and he lifts it over your head with ease. he tugs your shorts down along with your panties as you unclasp your bra, and finally you see the flicker of something in those eyes when your tits fall in his line of sight.
there's a man under it all, as much as he would like to pretend like there isn't.
you lean over, putting your hands on either side of him on the back of the couch before straddling him. he grunts as you sit down, his hands finding your waist, and you lean forward enough to press your forehead to his.
ghost, like your simon, is insatiable. as soon as he has you this close, his hands are wandering. gloved hands slide up your slides and cup your tits, thumbs smoothing over your nipples until they're puckered and hard. once he's satisfied that you're shuddering enough, his hands fall to your thighs, spreading them apart even more before he grips both sides of your ass and squeezes, spreading them apart. the tease of his thumb over your ass makes your brain restart, and if he wasn't wearing the mask, you have a feeling you'd seek a sickening grin come over his face.
your mouth falls open, short breaths leaving you, and your eyes flutter closed when his hand slips between your thighs and cups you, big palm swallowing your folds as he puts two fingers to your clit and makes a nasty squelch as he moves them in firm circles.
"olready so wet..."
you squeak with surprise when he flips you over. your back slams against his chest, and it arches away from him as he plants your heels on either side of his thighs and wraps an arm around your middle to hold you against him.
"oh--ha--"
you reach back and grip the back of his neck for support as he puts his hand back where it belongs. two gloved fingers move in achingly slow circles through your folds, but like a teasing shit, he only skims your clit every so often. he leans in, humming against your ear, and he smacks his lips under the mask as he watches from over your shoulder.
"is it time?" he rasps against your cheek. "mmm...y'r husband neglects ya, huh?"
"w-what? no..."
"'s olright," ghost huffs. "i know. even pretty girls need to get fucked, tha's the truth, innit?"
"nnghh--"
"even sweet, pretty girls deserve a firm hand. don't hafta be so gentle...ya don't want gentle, aye? not wot ya need."
"just need you," you whine, and he paws at your tits hard as he sinks two fingers into you, right down to the last knuckle. you cry with relief, bucking your hips up against his hand, and he shushes you, shaking his head. ghost is simon's nasty alter ego, and you just want more and more and more of it.
"relax," he chuckles. fuck, he's so smug, it's infuriating and appealing all the same. "just need ta get ya nice and soft...need ya to open up fer me. won't be easy, takin' me."
like always with your husband, the one thing that is easy is not thinking at all. you sink, relaxing into his grip until there is no resistance from you. you don't have to have any thoughts when it comes to him. you can just be in the moment. you can float on this plane of nonexistence, this place that is just for you where you can just be and enjoy and think of nothing but how good you feel at this exact moment. he's got such big fingers--they curl, petting your insides, coaxing you to make all sorts of soft, pretty noises that just make him more desperate. he's hard against your ass; he chubbed up as soon as you sat in his lap, but now it's an unmistakable feeling.
he is everything you have ever wanted. he is more than you deserve. for your entire life, nothing has ever felt more precious. nothing has ever been more special. no one in the entire world has ever been so pervasive and demanding and thoughtful and wonderful, and you love him so much, you think you might die if you don't have him--
"i know," his voice brings you back. you're crying, tears wetting your face. you're shivering, holding onto him, babbling nonsense that sounds a lot like i love you and please and more. "i know, baby--it's so good, innit? feels so good, look at ya...look at ya, 's oll mine, 's mine, everythin' tha' y'are is mine."
everything you are is mine. skin, bone, and all.
"i'm gonna--no!" you seize when his fingers leave you. you miss them, turning around in his lap, cupping his cheeks, shaking your head, desperate desperate desperate. "don't take it from me, don't--!"
he hums. deep within his chest, something you feel trickling up his throat as your hands slide down his neck. you paw at the tactical vest, pulling on the straps, but ghost is something you cannot move. he's rigid, solid. nothing about him gives. even hard, pressed up against your cunt, he loses no control.
"gonna be good?" he asks. "hmm? gonna be good, and let me take care o' this, aye? can't 'ave ya coming on my fingers, swee'eart. first time ya come tonight, 's gonna be on my cock, y'hear tha'? say you hear me."
"i hear you--"
"tha's good, good, i like tha', like when ya do wot i ask. 's easy, innit? easy ta do wot i tell ya."
you can see those eyes. you're in love with those eyes. it doesn't matter how much he paints around them or how many layers he covers his face with, you will never forget them. you will know them when you close your eyes for the last time, and you will know them when you are born again, and you will spend eternity looking for them until you find the ones you know belong to you.
simon will wear a million faces, and you will know each and every one of them, just like you know this one, even the one you can't see.
simon makes other men so inferior. ghost makes them infinitely obsolete.
"so pretty, i've got such a pretty wife," ghost mutters. "did good, didn't i? gettin' myself such a nice girl. a messy girl." you're drooling as he lifts his hips, undoing his jeans with one wet, gloved hand. the zipper comes down, and your eyes fall as you watch him shove the denim just below his balls. "fuck--so full, baby, huh? won't last if y'keep lookin' at me tha' way, close y'r mouth."
you giggle a little. it escapes you without you even thinking, and when ghost tilts his head to the side, you're caught in it. he's about to fuck you for the very first time. he's about to eat, like he's never eaten before. you're about to lose your fucking mind, that's for certain, and nothing about it scares you.
simon might not be here right now, but ghost still knows what you are to him. he's going to take care of you. he loves you.
you cradle his head when he turns you in his lap. you clutch onto the back of his mask, lowering yourself in his arms as you press your lips to his over the mask. your shuddering breaths make him groan, and he hisses when you use one hand to slip his cock between your thighs, rocking your hips to coat him in slick. the bulbous head catches between your ass, and you lick over his jaw as you draw your hips back, meeting his eyes again.
you never want to know another man. even if they take him from you, even if someone manages to put a bullet in him, you'll never be with anyone else. this is it, the end all be all.
"not supposed t'think," ghost tells you. "y'r too pretty t'think."
your lashes flutter, and he grins under the mask.
"just the tip?" he teases. you press your forehead to his, shaking a little, and you nod your head. you take it nice and slow. he hitches you high up on his lap, on your knees, and you're a whimpering mess when he pushes the fat tip inside of you. you rock your hips, feeding yourself more, and ghost leans his head back when he feels you squeezing and squeezing and squeezing as you take just a little more of him, little by little. "don't need ta work ya open when y'r cunt's beggin' for it, innit?"
you squeeze his broad shoulders, leaning all your weight on him as you sit down on his cock. both of you groan, finally one, and you push his mask up to seal a kiss as you feel him throbbing as he touches deep.
"i love you so much," you whisper between kisses, "but i've been waiting t-too long for this."
"don't worry," ghost mutters. "there'll be time f'nice 'n sweet later. i know wot y'need."
and fuck, he certainly does.
ghost has you propped up underneath him when he fucks you for the first time. he shoved a few pillows under your hips, and the angle has your eyes in the back of your head as he indulges himself. when he puts a gloved hand low on your tummy and presses, you see it--fuck, it's good.
he's hitting that spot again and again now. the groans that slip out, the ones he can't control, have you squeezing his cock every time he meets your hips, and he has to grab onto your thighs to keep you from shaking yourself too hard. his balls are heavy, fat, smacking against your ass with a wet sound that's making it hard to focus. you go in and out, and every time that skull mask comes into your vision again, you feel a new wave of shudders make it's way down your spine, curling your toes.
"tha's it, love--" ghost praises. "ughh, knew ya'd be so good f'me. knew ya'd take it like this. open up--yeah, yeah--fuck--" he spits into his glove, nasty, and when he thumbs at your clit, you mewl. your back nearly lifts off the couch and the pillows you rest on, but ghost just cackles, pressing you back down, his palm a nice weight on your tummy as he pushes down again just right and-- "oh--fuck--there it is..."
your orgasm is unlike any other you've ever had. for a split second, the world is nothing but stars. your vision hazes, white spots dancing, and when you blink back to consciousness, ghost has slowed his hips, his hands gripping your hips as he watches the mess between your legs quickly wet his cargos. he hums low, eyes wild, and he keeps fucking up into you suddenly, a bit quicker, renewed vigor.
"want anotha one," ghost hisses, and you babble as you try and tell him i-i can't, never been able to--but he's still going, still running his big thumb in nice circles, and when he draws your legs up and over his shoulders and leans his weight on you, you cry with relief when something softer but just as lovely hits you head-on. ghost gets down onto his elbows, faltering, and when you feel his cum spurt, you shake at how good it feels to be surrounded by your husband, inside and out, the start of him and end of you blurred between tangled limbs and shared breaths and the wedding band you can feel him wearing underneath his gloved hand as he intertwines your fingers and squeezes.
your body is liquid. it seeps back into the couch, melding to the cushions underneath you, and you smile up at your husband as he smooths his hands over your face and chuckles low and breathless.
"y'r so beautiful," he murmurs, and you tell him the same, because it's true. you touch your nose to his, breathing him in, and when you laugh, he asks you what it is.
"i just..." you laugh again. "hmm...why did we wait so long?"
you laugh together, soft and quiet, and when you kiss him, he's gentle. he sits up enough to throw his gear off, the tact vest falling to the floor, and you toss his mask behind you so you can scratch at his short hair and kiss his cheeks.
"so..." you bite your lip, and he gives you all his attention.
"wot is it, baby?"
"you...wanna go again?"
#I DIDN'T FORGET ABOUT THEM !!!!!!!!!#they've been ON MY MIND#take it take it TAKE IT#this was supposed to be a halloween fic..........i am like two months late LMAO but nobody cares so here it is#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#simon ghost riley smut#ghost smut#simon riley smut#order up
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── ୨୧ ! MIDNIGHT COMPANY
chris sturniolo x reader
SUMMARY: While filming a car video, the triplets witness a girl - Y/N - arguing with her boyfriend. When he smashes her phone and leaves her alone at midnight in the middle of a random parking lot, Chris steps in.
WARNING: Toxic relationship, yelling, fighting, being hurt physically and emotionally, manipulation, panicking.
REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Y/N didn't meant for things to end up like that.
She really didn't.
She was just walking alongside her boyfriend through the Target aisles, her eyes darting nervously between the shelves and the floor.
But she should know better. He had already been irritated when they left the apartment - something about her taking too long to get ready - and now, every move she made felt like a mistake.
"Stick close." Her boyfriend had muttered, his voice low but firm. His eyes darted around the store, scanning the aisles of brightly colored products with an air of impatience. "I don’t want to spend all night in here."
Y/N nodded quickly, her throat dry.
"Okay."
They made their way down the main aisle, her boyfriend grabbing a few items and putting them into the cart with little regard. It was always like that; he made the decisions, and she just agreed and moved on.
He paused at the end of that same aisle, scanning the shelves with a discerning eye. She lingered a few steps behind, observing.
He grabbed a box of granola bars from the shelf, tossing it into the cart with a louder thud. She winced at the sound, her stomach knotting with unease.
"Why are you standing there? Do you see the cereal we get?" He asked, his tone clipped.
Her throat tightened. She scanned the shelves frantically, her eyes moving over the rows of colorful boxes. She wasn’t sure if it was the green box or the blue one.
"Um, I think..." She started, reaching hesitantly toward one of the options.
"Don’t think. Look." He snapped, already sounding exasperated.
Her hand faltered, and she pulled it back. Her heart was pounding, and her palms had grown clammy against the leather strap of her purse. She wanted to go home.
They turned into the household goods section, where shelves were lined with glass containers, picture frames, and other fragile items. Her boyfriend stopped abruptly, examining a set of drinking glasses with a critical eye.
"Do you think these match the ones we already have?" He asked, holding up a box with pretty crystal wine glasses.
Y/N hesitated, unsure if he wanted an answer or was just thinking out loud.
"I-I think so."
Her boyfriend sighed, setting the box down with a clatter.
"You’re not even paying attention."
"I am." She said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper, desperately searching for his free hand. "I promise."
"Whatever." He muttered, letting her squeeze his fingers once before dropping hers, moving on.
Y/N quickly followed, trying to stay out of his way, her eyes fixed on his tall figure, crossing her hands in front of her body and forcing her brain to pay more attention to anything he touched or pointed out. She couldn't risk him thinking that she didn't care.
As she passed by one of the shelves, her purse brushed against a precariously balanced display of small vases. Time seemed to slow as the first vase teetered, then fell, hitting the shelf below it and sending a chain reaction through the display.
Crash!
The sound was deafening. Glass shattered across the floor, the pieces glinting under the white lights. Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat. She stared at the mess, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest.
"Oh my god. Are you serious?" Her boyfriend hissed under his breath.
She dropped to her knees instinctively, trembling as she tried to gather the pieces with her bare hands.
"I’m sorry." She whispered, her voice trembling and desperate.
"You're fucking nbelievable." He muttered under his breath, loud enough for her to hear.
She stopped for a moment, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t crying because of the spilled glasses. It wasn’t even about the moment itself. It was about the weight of knowing that every mistake she made was a reason for him to get tired of her. To leave her.
"I’m sorry." She whispered, again and again, the words tumbling out of her mouth as though they might undo the damage. "I’m so s-sorry."
But it wasn’t just an apology. It was an instinctive response, born from the fear of making him feel any sort of negative emotion at all. She knew that he wouldn’t brush this off, wouldn’t laugh, and say it was no big deal. He would be mad, and she couldn't let him get mad at her. Not again.
She desperately wanted to shrink herself down into something more digestible for him at that moment. Something he could chew up, spit out, and discard - like gum.
A woman at the end of the aisle glanced over, her expression a mix of surprise and concern. A man on the opposite side peeked around the corner, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.
Y/N’s face burned with humiliation. She felt their stares on her, for sure, full of judgment. Her hands fumbled over the shards, shaking too hard to pick them up properly.
Her boyfriend crouched down beside her, his expression now unusually calm. His hand landed on her shoulder, but the grip was firm, bordering on painful.
"Y/N, honey, stop. You’re going to hurt yourself."
"I’m sorry." She whispered again, the tears on her eyes starting to burn her orbs with the force she used to stop the drops from escaping. She couldn’t let him see her break. She’d learned the hard way that crying only made him angrier.
"Stop it." He said more firmly, moving his hand through her arm, grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from the glass. He looked up at the people looking back at them and forced a polite, almost apologetic smile. "She’s... a little clumsy. Always has been. Right, honey? I know you didn’t mean to. You can’t help it, can you?"
Y/N stiffened, her stomach churning. She forced her head to move up and down, the movement coming out almost robotic.
"You’re just... distracted. All the time." He continued, his smile cold and tight. "That’s why these things happen. You can’t focus."
She wanted to argue, to tell him that she wasn’t some careless mess, but the words died in her throat. What good would it do?
"Here." He said, taking an empty cardboard box near them and shoving the pieces to the side with it, taking it all out of the way. "There. Fixed. See?"
She nodded, swallowing hard.
"Now, get up."
She stood, her knees wobbling slightly as she adjusted the strap of her purse. He grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her skin.
"It’s okay." He continued, speaking louder now so the others could hear. "She just gets a little overwhelmed sometimes. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of this."
The man at the end of the aisle nodded, giving her boyfriend a small, understanding smile. The woman pursed her lips and turned away, muttering something about how 'accidents happen'.
"Let’s go." He said through clenched teeth as he started walking toward the exit.
"But-"
"No." His voice was low, but the warning was clear. He smiled tightly at the few remaining onlookers as he dragged her past them.
Her face burned with humiliation, but she kept quiet, her eyes glued to the floor. His grip tightened when her feet seemed to disobey her brain, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out.
The automatic doors slid open, and the cool night air rushed over her, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside her head. Her boyfriend’s pace didn’t slow, his hand still gripping her skin as he led her toward the parking lot.
Her heart was pounding, her thoughts spiraling into chaos. She felt like a child being scolded, small and powerless, her voice locked somewhere deep inside her throat.
When they reached the car, he finally let go of her arm, shoving her away as if she were a piece of garbage. She stumbled slightly, catching herself against the side of the car, waiting for whatever came next.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
From the other side of their spot in the parking lot, the triplets were parked, their van slightly away from the main entrance. It was Wednesday night, and they were filming their weekly video, the interior of the van alive with yells and laughter.
"... No, seriously, people do that sometimes." Chris said, turning slightly towards Matt while trying to prove his point. "Patches O'Houlihan, he did that."
Matt scoffed, looking at him with an 'are you serious?' look.
"From Dodgeball? The fictional character?" He laughed incredulously, looking at Nick through the rearview, ready for another weird thing to come out of Chris's mouth.
Nick's attention, however, wasn’t on him - or them, for that matter. It was on the world outside. He always had a habit of scanning his surroundings, probably in a way of caring for himself and his brothers.
As Chris kept going, earning a loud groan from Matt, Nick’s eyes caught movement across the parking lot, almost exactly in front of their van. Near one of the parked cars, a couple stood in the golden glow of a streetlamp.
Nick’s stomach twisted. Something about the way the guy loomed over the girl, his gestures sharp and erratic, immediately set off alarm bells. The girl was visibly distressed, her arms crossed over her chest, her posture shrinking with every second.
Without thinking, Nick leaned forward and slapped Chris on the shoulder, interrupting him.
"Nick, what the-" Chris began, turning sharply, his annoyance evident.
"Shut up." Nick hissed, his voice low but firm, cutting through Chris’s protest. He nodded toward the couple. "Look."
Chris frowned but followed Nick’s gaze, his expression shifting from irritation to curiosity and then to concern. Matt, who had been in the middle of adjusting his hoodie, leaned closer to the windshield.
"What’s going on?" Matt asked, his voice quieter now.
Nick didn’t answer, instead reaching for the button to lower his window, easing it down. A faint, angry voice carried into the van, growing clearer as the man’s yelling intensified.
"... do you even understand how embarrassing you are?"
The girl stood frozen, her arms clutching her sides as though trying to hold herself together. Her head was bowed, her hair shielding her face from the world. She didn’t respond, didn’t dare to look up, and that only seemed to fuel his anger.
"What the fuck?" Matt muttered, leaning forward slightly to get a better look, his eyes glued to the scene.
"You think I’m joking?" He snapped, stepping closer to her. "You think I enjoy having every pair of eyes in that store on me because you can’t manage to walk without causing a damn scene?" The man continued, stepping closer to her.
Her response was so soft that it barely reached the triplets’ ears.
"I’m sorry..."
"Sorry?" The man laughed bitterly. "You’re always sorry. You’re sorry when you spill coffee, you’re sorry when you trip over your own feet, and now you’re sorry for knocking over half a shelf like a goddamn child?"
The girl flinched at his words, biting her bottom lip while taking a small - almost imperceptible - step back.
Chris tensed after watching her reaction, his jaw tightening.
"This guy’s a piece of-"
"Chris, shush." Matt snapped, his voice low.
"I told you before, didn’t I? Stop acting like a fool every time we’re out in public. This is for your own good." The man spat.
"I didn’t mean to-" She started, but he cut her off quickly.
"Shut up!" He barked, his voice echoing across the lot. She shrank back, her body trembling. "You know better than to talk back to me." He growled, taking another step closer.
"I wasn’t-"
"Stop talking!" He barked, his voice echoing across the empty lot probably louder than intended. "Every time you open your mouth, you make it worse. Do you even understand that? Or are you too stupid to figure it out?"
Tears accumulated inside her eyeballs, shining below the lights.
"Look, I’ll call an Uber, okay?" Y/N murmured, her voice cracking. "You can go home and calm down. Please."
"Oh, you’ll call an Uber? Sure, let’s waste more of my money on your screw-ups." The man’s laugh was sharp and bitter.
She reached into her purse, her hands shaking as she pulled out her phone, unlocking it and trying to search for tha app, being harshly interrupted when the man snatched the device from her grip with such force that she stumbled.
Chris shifted uncomfortably, his fists clenched on his lap.
"Do we step in?"
"I don't think we should, not right now." Nick whispered.
"Give it back. Please, baby." She asked, her voice weak, trembling.
"Why? So you can text your little friends about what a terrible boyfriend I am?" He sneered, holding the phone high above his head.
Y/N's mouth dropped open, her wet eyes widening as if he had just committed the worst crime.
"Baby, please." She begged, her tears now falling freely, causing her voice to break. "I would never ever do that. I love you so much, you know that, right?"
He ignored her. With a single, violent motion, he hurled the phone to the ground. The sound of glass and plastic shattering against the pavement echoed in the silence.
She recoiled as though the blow had landed on her instead of the device, a squeak involuntarily escaping from her mouth. Her arms wrapped tighter around herself as she stared at the broken pieces. Her whole life, broken.
"Should've had taken that shit from you sooner." The man spat, shaking his head. "Pathetic. Can’t do anything right."
Matt and Nick exchanged horrified glances through the rearview, Chris's face pale by their side.
"P-please, don't leave me here, baby. I love you, I'm so sorry." The girl begged, gluing her hands in a praying gesture in front of her body. "I promise I'll do better."
"I can't even look at your face right now." The man shook his head. "I need some time, okay?" He didn't wait for an answer before storming off to the driver-side of his car, slamming the door and speeding out of the lot, tires screeching against the asphalt.
Y/N stood frozen, her trembling figure illuminated by the lights and the moon.
Chris didn’t think. One second, he was staring at her, and the next, his hand was on the van door handle, yanking it open.
"Chris!" Matt hissed from the driver’s seat. "What are you doing?"
"Chris- what the fuck?!" Nick added, his voice urgent but not loud enough to stop him.
But Chris couldn’t wait. He couldn’t sit there any longer, watching this girl suffer alone.
He bolted from the van, the cool night air hitting him like a slap, but he barely noticed. His long strides carried him across the parking lot, his heart pounding not from his pace but from pure urgency.
"Oh my god, he's crazy!" Matt’s groan echoed from behind him, but it was distant, like background noise.
He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.
The closer he got, the more his stomach churned. Her face was streaked with tears, her cheeks blotchy and raw from crying. But she wasn’t just crying. She was panicking. He could see it in the way her hands trembled uncontrollably, and in the way her breath came in short, sharp gasps.
Chris slowed as he approached her, not wanting to startle her. She was staring at the exit of the parking lot, her wide, unfocused and tear-filled eyes locked on the gate arm as though it was the only thing anchoring her to the ground.
"Hey." He said softly, his voice gentle but firm.
She flinched, her head snapping up, and her gaze locked on him as she took a step back. For a moment, she looked utterly terrified, and Chris's throat tightened.
He quickly held his hands up, palms out, trying to show her he wasn’t a threat.
"Hey, hey, it’s okay." He said quickly. "I just... I saw what happened, and I wanted to check if you’re okay."
Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, a fresh wave of tears spilled down her cheeks. She shook her head, taking another step back, her back almost hitting the metal post of the streetlight.
"You don’t have to be scared." Chris said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "I’m not going to hurt you, I swear. I just want to help."
She looked at him again, her watery eyes studying his face as though trying to figure out if he was lying.
Chris took a cautious step closer, keeping his movements slow.
"You’re shaking." He said gently. "It's freezing out here. Can I... can I give you my hoodie?"
She blinked at him, her brows furrowing slightly.
"Why?" She croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Because it’s cold, and you’re upset, and I’d feel better if you weren’t standing out here like this." Chris said honestly, shrugging off his hoodie - ignoring how the hairs on his arm fully stood up with the cold air - and holding it out to her.
She hesitated, her eyes darting from his face to the piece of clothing, then back again.
"It’s okay." Chris reassured her. "You don’t have to take it, but I promise it’s clean. And warm."
After what felt like an eternity, she slowly reached out and took the hoodie from him. Her hands were trembling so much that she almost dropped it, but she managed to pull it to her chest, pressing it against her covered skin.
"Thank you." She mumbled, her voice shaky.
Chris exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
"Of course. What’s your name?" He asked in a soft tone. "I'm Chris."
She blinked her eyes at him, frowning, clearly surprised by the question.
"Y-Y/N." She said hesitantly.
"Y/N." He repeated, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "It’s really nice to meet you... Um, do you want to sit down? You look like you need a second."
She looked around the parking lot again before nodding slowly, and Chris gestured to the curb nearby. He waited until she sat down before taking a seat a few feet away, giving her space but staying close enough that she wouldn’t feel alone.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
"I’m fine." She finally said - even though it wasn't what Chris was expecting to hear, her voice cutting through the silence, hoarse and shaky.
Chris tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing.
"I don’t think you are."
"I am." She insisted, but her voice cracked on the words, betraying her.
Chris turned his face slightly to the side to meet her eyes, curving his upper body, trying to make himself seem less imposing.
"I know you don’t know me. Well, only my name now." He said softly. "But I can tell you’re not fine. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be. Not after that."
She bit her lower lip hard, and for a second, Chris thought she might break down again. But instead, she straightened her spine, her trembling hands wiping at her tear-streaked face.
"It's not as bad as it looked. He was just angry." She said quietly, almost as if she was saying that to herself. "It’s not his fault. I... I messed up."
Chris’s heart sank at her words.
"You didn’t mess up." He said firmly, his voice laced with conviction.
She shook her head, her hands gripping the fabric of his hoodie tightly.
"I did. I dropped something, broke it, actually. It was stupid, and it drew attention to us, and... and he doesn’t like that. He was just trying to make me understand."
Chris stared at her, his chest tightening painfully.
"That’s not okay." He said softly. "No one should treat you like that, no matter what happened."
"You don’t understand." She said, her voice rising slightly as she hugged herself tighter. "He just... he gets frustrated sometimes, but it’s because he cares. He doesn’t mean to be mean."
Chris’s jaw clenched, a mix of anger and sadness boiling inside him.
"Love isn’t supposed to be like that, Y/N." He said gently. "It’s not supposed to hurt you and leave you standing in a parking lot crying, shaking, and alone."
Her eyes filled with fresh tears again, and she looked away, staring at the ground as if she couldn’t bear to meet his gaze.
"You don’t know him." She whispered, shaking her head vehemently.
Chris wanted to scream, to grab her shoulders, and shake her until she understood that what she was describing wasn’t love. It was control, manipulation, and abuse. But even though he had never helped a victim of a toxic and abusive relationship before, he knew he should keep his voice calm, so he did it, maintaining his tone soft and steady.
"You’re right." He said. "I don’t know him. But I know what I saw, and I can only imagine what it feels like to have someone make you think you’re the problem when you’re not."
Her head whipped toward him, her eyes narrowing.
"You don’t know anything about me."
Chris held up his hands.
"You’re right again. I don’t. But I’m not here to judge you. I’m here because I want to help. No strings, no expectations. Just... let me help. I can't leave you alone here for the rest of the night."
She shook her head again, her hands trembling as she brushed her hair out of her face.
"I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this. It isn't fair to him. He’d be so heartbroken if he knew."
Chris watched her for a second too long.
"But you deserve to talk to someone." He finally said. "You deserve to feel safe."
"I am safe!" She snapped, her voice ringing out in the empty parking lot. The declaration sounded hollow, as if she was trying to convince herself more than him.
Chris took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second.
"I just want to help you." He said, his tone pleading. "Do you have someone you can call? A family member, a friend? You can use my phone-"
Her reaction was immediate and panicked. She shook her head furiously, her eyes wide with fear as her body tightened, seeming ready to stand up and run.
"No! No, I can’t call anyone."
"Why not?" Chris asked gently, though his heart was racing, his eyes traveling quickly to his car where his brothers were before going back to Y/N. "They’d want to help you, just like I do."
"I said no!" She cried, her voice cracking. Her breathing was shallow and quick now, teetering on the edge of hyperventilation. "You don’t understand. I can’t just call someone. And you... you need to go. God, you shouldn’t even be here."
Chris frowned, his brows knitting together.
"Please, I’m just trying to-"
"You don’t get it." She interrupted, her voice hushed but frantic. She glanced around the parking lot as though expecting her boyfriend to be there somewhere, watching them. "He’s going to come back. And if he sees you here, if he thinks... you need to leave. Now."
Chris’s stomach dropped at the sheer terror in her voice.
"Y/N, he won't hurt you in any type of way while I'm here with you. I can promise you that." He moved a bit closer again, careful not to make any sudden movement. "Let me do something for you. Anything, please."
"You can’t." She whispered, her voice barely audible. "No one can. Please, just go. He’s going to be here soon, and I-I can’t let him see you."
She was holding onto that story like it was a lifeline, but the way her hands trembled and her breath hitched betrayed her doubt.
"What if he doesn’t?" Chris asked gently. "What if he’s not coming back tonight?"
Her face fell for a brief moment before she quickly masked it, straightening up.
"He will." She said, though there was no conviction in her tone. "He always does."
Chris nodded, looking around dismissively.
"Okay. Maybe he will. But just in case... maybe you could let me help you. You don’t have to trust me, I get that. I'm a stranger. But let me offer you something. A safe place to wait."
"I don’t have anywhere to go." She admitted, her voice so quiet it was almost lost in the night air. "Just our house. And I don't think I should go back there now."
Chris’s heart twisted at her words and how uncertain they sound, but he kept his expression neutral, careful not to show pity.
"Okay." He said softly. "Then maybe you can just... talk to me. You don’t have to get in my car. We can sit out here. I’ll stay right here in the open where you can see me."
She hesitated, her eyes darting to the ground.
"Why do you care so much?"
Chris crossed his legs above the pavement, relaxing his posture further.
"Because I know what it’s like to feel like you’re on your own." He said simply. "And because I don’t think anyone should have to go through something like this alone. You don’t deserve that."
She hesitated, her gaze watching her hands above her thighs.
"I won’t call the police unless you want me to." Chris added. "I won’t push you to do anything you don't want to do. But you don’t have to deal with this alone."
Her lip quivered, and she closed her eyes tightly, her voice barely a whisper.
"I don’t even know what I’d do."
Chris’s heart ached for her, but he kept his tone steady.
"How about this." He said. "I’ll stay with you until you figure that out. If you want, I can take you to a hotel, or I can help you find somewhere else to stay for the night. But whatever you decide, I’m not going to leave you here."
She was silent for a long time, her shoulders rising and falling with each shaky breath. Finally, she nodded, just once.
"Okay." She said.
Chris exhaled slowly, relief washing over him.
"Okay." He echoed.
For the first time that night, she looked at him fully, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and cautious hope.
He opened his widest smile in response, leaning back slightly with his palms against the curb behind his back and glancing up at the sky.
"You know." He started, his tone casual. "This isn’t exactly the way I imagined spending my Wednesday night."
Her eyes scanned his face carefully, frowning, feeling like she was the one to destroy his day - or night.
"What do you mean?" She asked hesitantly, her voice hoarse.
Chris shrugged, being careful not to mention his career. He didn't want to overwhelm her.
"Well, usually on Wednesdays, I’m sitting in my van with my brothers, arguing over who gets to pick the fast-food spot. We’re probably debating something ridiculous, too."
That earned him the smallest, almost imperceptible twitch of her lips. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was something. It encouraged Chris to continue.
"My brothers are idiots, by the way." He said, his tone light. "Don’t tell them I said that, though. They'll get big heads thinking I actually pay attention to their nonsense."
Her brow rose slightly, curiosity tugging at the edges of her expression, her body instinctively leaning towards him.
"What are they like?"
Chris chuckled, throwing his head to the side, laying his cheek against his shoulder and looking at her eyes.
"They're amazing. Weird, but amazing. They're so funny in their individual way, always making me laugh so hard that sometimes I feel like I could pass out."
This time, she let out a soft, breathy laugh, and Chris felt a flicker of warmth in his chest. It was small, but it was progress.
"You’re close with them?" She asked quietly.
"Yeah." Chris said, nodding. "It’s hard not to be when you all live and do everything together. But they’re good guys. Annoying as hell, but good."
She looked down at her hands, her fingers fidgeting with the frayed edge of his hoodie sleeve.
"Must be nice." She murmured.
Chris’s smile faltered for a moment, but he recovered quickly.
"It is." He admitted. "But, you know, we fight sometimes. Like, really fight. Last week, Matt threw a punch at me because I wouldn’t stop talking during his game."
Her lips twitched again, and this time, it was a small, shy smile.
"What were you saying?" She asked, her voice soft but carrying a hint of amusement.
"Oh, some random shit. Can’t even remember now. Probably something embarrassing, knowing me." Chris grinned. "Matt said I was ruining his concentration, but honestly, I think he just doesn’t appreciate my brain work."
She shook her head slightly, her smile lingering.
"You’re ridiculous." She said softly, almost reflexively, but as soon as the words left her mouth, her expression shifted. Her body tensed up, her shoulders pulling in as her eyes darted to him in alarm. "I didn’t mean-"
"Guilty as charged." Chris smoothly interrupted her, opening a smirk while looking at her, trying to express through his eyes that it was okay. "But, hey, if ridiculous is what it takes to make you laugh, then I’m all in."
Her looked down again at the pavement, scraping her shoes over the small rocks.
"Thanks." She said quietly.
"For what?" Chris asked, his voice gentle.
"For... keeping me company." She said, her gaze fixed on her lap. "I don’t feel... as bad right now."
Chris felt a lump in his throat but pushed it down, keeping his tone light.
"Anytime." He said. "I’ve got a whole arsenal of dumb stories and good jokes if you need them."
She looked at him then, her eyes softer than before.
"You’re really nice." She said, pressing her lips in a fine line.
Chris shrugged, a faint blush creeping up his neck.
"I just don’t like seeing people hurt." He said honestly. "And, I don’t know, you seem like someone who deserves a lot better than... all this."
Her eyes filled with tears, and for a moment, Chris thought she might start crying again. Instead, she took a deep breath and nodded.
"Thanks." She said again, her voice steadier this time.
Chris gave her a warm smile.
"No problem. Now, how do you feel about bad puns? Because I’ve got a killer one about a duck and a lawyer."
Her laughter filled the cold night air, causing a large smile to stretch across Chris's lips. He would do everything in his power to help this girl.
#chris sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturiolo fanfic#chris sturniolo x fem!reader#chris sturniolo x y/n#chris sturniolo x fem reader#chris sturniolo x reader angst#chris sturniolo x reader fluff#chris sturniolo angst#chris sturniolo fic#chris sturniolo fanfiction#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo sad#christopher owen sturniolo#christopher sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets x reader#the sturniolo triplets#angst#toxic relationship#sturniolo triplets fanfic#sturniolo triplets angst
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DC XDP prompt: Danny falls out of a portal literally into Batmans arms in a JL meeting.
Feel free to play with this. I probably will write more, but I'm STUCK and don't know how to write the JL or anyone else for that matter.
XXX
The Justice League meeting had gone very well. For once there were no major crisis from anyone attending, and all of the regular members of the league were in attendance. A few of the second row hero’s had begged off for one reason or another, but nothing that was a threat of any real kind.
Batman was wary, and on edge as the meeting wrapped up. It was never this simple, it just couldn’t be. There was always some kind of threat to keep an eye on, but the worst thing that had come up during the meeting were routine security updates.
No one else seemed to be on edge from the far too calm, routine meeting, and Bruce had just about convinced himself that it was really just one of those meetings where nothing outrageous would happen. It was ideal even…
Then the alarms went off, in the specific modulation that indicated a magical incursion.
Batman wasn’t the only one who’s hands went to weapons when the portal materialized above the meeting room table only a moment after the alarm went off. Swirling lazarus green had him ready for the fight even as the rest of the league went into defensive positions around the incursion.
“What…” Flash started to ask about a minute later when nothing had happened yet, the alarms still blaring.
That’s when something came flying out of the portal, at speed, back first.
Batman had a split second to decide to attack… or not. A split second to try to process the impressions and decide if this was an attack.
The portal closed as he cradled the small body that had crashed into his arms, the alarms silencing a moment later as the rest of the league tried to catch up, all of them wondering if this was some new threat.
Batman looked down at the child in his arms, a boy in his mid teens and small for his age, with white hair framing a frighteningly familiar looking face, gently pointed ears, and fangs in a mouth that gasped for breath against pain. The eyes were closed, twisted tight as the child clutched at his chest and belly, holding together severed flesh that leaked lazarus green blood from a clinical and too regular wound. Fingers tipped with small claws spasmed, tears coming from closed eyes.
“Batman?” Wonder Woman asked, Diana’s voice filled with concern as Bruce wrapped the child in his arms and stood up from where he had been knocked on his ass catching said child.
“Call down to medical. Severely wounded unknown,” he snapped, moving towards the door, only to stop as there was a flash of light in his arms, and the child suddenly gained a solid weight that was closer to human. The blood dripping from passed out hands was now brilliant red, fingertips blunt with chewed nails, the boy’s skin going from pale white to… a healthier tone.
Bruce consciously stopped cataloging his observations then, swiftly making his way to medical. Whatever this boy was, whether he intended to tug at Batman’s heart the way he was or not, was severely wounded and needed medical attention immediately.
He could process it all, and wonder why a child looking exactly like Damian Wayne had been thrown into his arms through a lazarus portal later.
XXXXX
An hour later, after a discreet call to his youngest just to be sure, Bruce watched the now sedated child in the medical cot, working on trying to face match the databases and find out if the child came from earth or not.
The searches primarily turned up Damian Wayne. Bruce knew for certain this child was not his son, but he was also running a DNA analysis because this Might be his son. It made a disheartening amount of sense for this boy to be another version of Damien, perhaps from another dimension, or some manner of clone, or perhaps Talia had simply hidden another child of his away… Bruce needed to narrow down the possibilities, to find the truth.
Of course, it was equally possible that this boy was some manner of mimic, taking on a form that would ensure his safety in unknown environment, a shape shifter intentionally injuring himself in order to infiltrate the Watchtower. Though that last theory didn’t make sense for a number of reasons. Most shape shifters would be secure enough in their abilities to simply try to mimic someone who already had access to the watch tower, to say nothing of the boy’s dramatic entrance.
Batman wasn’t thinking logically. Bruce couldn’t simply leave the boy here though. Not until he knew more, everything relevant by preference. The thought that this might be his son in any way was enough to keep him near, but he could already tell he was compromised.
He had already informed Diana and Clark, and both of them had agreed that he should stay nearby until they had the situation sorted out.
Bruce had been stuck in a circular though pattern for about fifteen minutes when a green form came into the room, J’onn looking at him calmly.
“Can you find anything out?” Batman asked without preamble, unable to bring himself to observe polite pleasantries when he was so unsettled.
“Nothing beyond surface thoughts. The boy’s mind is static and pain of the emotional kind,” J’onn stated after a moment.
Batman nodded, accepting the answer. J’onn’s abilities weren’t always the answer to everything, could indeed often be a crutch that led to the wrong answers. But they could also give the Justice League a starting point often enough.
“You should rest friend. It is unlikely that the boy will awaken soon…” J’onn cut himself off with a quiet look at the boy. “Or not. He’s coming around.”
Batman watched as the child’s eyes blinked open, drowsy expression turning to the two heros without much recognition. Bruce didn’t let himself react, kept himself in a calm pose even as his mind once more went into overdrive.
The boy had blue eyes, not green like Damian's.
#dp x dc#up for adoption#I'm going to write more#I have written more#Not sure how long it will last though#Bruce: is this my child?#The universes: Yes. Doesn't matter if he was before he is now#rest of the JL: o.O ... adoption on demand?#Bats you have a problem#First time making a dc x dp prompt#or story#or whatever
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Danny, as ghost king, has no actual ruling authority (Since ghosts hate being told what to do). This makes things awkward when magicians or heroes or cultists summon him to ask him to command his "subjects".
"Stop right there!" Spoiler cried, tied up and wriggling. Red Robin and Robin were near her, also similarly tied up and trying to get out. "You won't get away with this!"
One of the cultists laughed. "That's why you're wrong, hero! We will summon our god and he will turn this world into a paradise! Well, for us that is. For you... perhaps it will be hell."
"Can any of you hurry up and escape?!" Robin hissed.
"I don't see you getting out any faster!" Red Robin spat back.
"Shut up and focus!" Spoiler snarled, wriggling even harder.
However, they were too late. The spell was completed and as the world turned dark, the sigils glowing green alongside the candlelight, a young boy appeared in the portal.
"My lord, the Ghost King, High King of the Infinite Realms, Master of Darkness and God of Death! Obey us and heed our instructions!" The cultists said, as Robin started cursing up a storm.
The young teen stared at the cultists. There was an awkward moment of silence where even the three vigilantes paused.
"... right. What did you call me here for?" He eventually asked.
"We command you to call for your army of the undead and take this world under siege!"
The boy blinked several times. Then he said slowly, "Okay." He stood there in the rune circle, unmoving.
Another one of the cultists shouted, "Why are you not calling your undead army?!"
"Hmm? Oh, right, yes. My... undead army. Of course. I'll get right to it."
He still didn't move. Eventually, he turned to look at his wrist, but there was nothing except his gloved wrist. He looked to the other wrist, but there was still nothing. Now all three vigilantes and the other cultists stared at him with baffled expressions as the teen then said in a mutter, "Crap."
Pandemonium erupted as they then realized that whatever being was summoned did not actually know how to call for an army or needed to obey the bidding of the people summoning him.
Later, as Red Robin and Spoiler asked him who he was or why he couldn't do anything (since he seemed really agreeable), he answered with a grumble, "You try to wrangle over a billion ghosts who think you're a superpowered baby who shouldn't be ruling the ghost zone."
#dc x dp#dp x dc#danny phantom x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#dp x dc crossover#ask#danny fenton#anon ask#tim drake#stephanie brown#damian wayne#ghost king danny#ty for the ask!
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meet - Jegulus - November 20th - @stag-microfic - word count: 332
"Dad?"
James looked up from his book to see his sixteen-year old son standing awkwardly in the doorway, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there. "What's up, Haz?" he asked gently, placing the hardcover down on the table and patting the empty space on the couch.
Harry sat down gingerly and frowned, green eyes troubled. "Don't laugh, alright?"
"Of course," James nodded, frowning. "What is it?"
"Remember when you used to read me stories, when I was little? About people who would go out and meet 'the one' and fall in love at first sight, and everything ended happily ever after?" Harry asked, still looking uncomfortable.
James nodded, not understanding. "Yes...why?"
"What if it's...not like that?" Harry mumbled, looking down at his hands and shifting awkwardly. "Does that mean it's not right?"
Dawning comprehension flooded through James and he tried to answer without seeming too eager. He didn't want to embarrass Harry, after all. "Prongslet, those were stories. You know that your Pa and I didn't fall in love at first sight, right? I mean...he bloody hated me!"
Harry chuckled at that and met his eyes for a moment before again frowning. "But you were an obnoxious arse," he pointed out.
"I was," James nodded, suppressing a laugh.
"And I was a stuck-up twat."
Both Harry and James turned to see Regulus in the doorway, a smile on his face. The shorter man joined the two on the couch and spoke again.
"Harry, love isn't like the stories. It doesn't always fall into place. But if you both want it and work at it, then it's usually worth it," Regulus said, looking over Harry's shoulder to give James a small smile.
Harry nodded and sighed. "Alright. Thanks."
James couldn't resist. "Is he a Slytherin, then?" He asked knowingly.
Green eyes shot up to meet his, a shocked look on his son's face. "How'd you know?" Harry demanded.
It was Regulus who burst out laughing. "Like father, like son," he chortled.
#marauders#harry potter#marauders era#marauders fandom#fanfic#harry potter marauders#the marauders#marauders harry potter#marauders fanfic#the marauders era#marauder era#marauders fanfiction#marauders fic#james potter x regulus black#james and regulus#james potter#james x regulus#regulus x james#regulus black#regulus arcturus black#james loves regulus#regulus deserved better#regulus black x james potter#jegulus#jegulus microfic#starchaser#sunseeker#drarry#jegulus raising harry
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JUNO - Bucky Barnes
Authors Note: Gah, here we go again with the bucky fics since he looked so damn good in that trailer! Enjoy!
Word Count: 4215
Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT.....and more smut.
Requests: OPEN
Main Masterlist ~ ~ Halloween 2024 Event
[Thank you for the gif @ayo-edebiri ]
Enjoy!
“Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing
Oh yeah, you just get it
Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit
God bless your dad's genetics, mm, uh”
-
You were a terrible terrible person, this was a fact. It would be put on whatever wikipedia page they made for villains as soon as people figured it out, which considering the rage building in your body would be any moment now. Why were you a terrible person? That’s easy to explain.
There was a time where everyone avoided your boyfriend like the plague, when the Winter Soldier cliche had been stuck to his image like a nail in a tire and everyone treated him like crap. And who stayed by his side? You. Not that it was ever about keeping score because you just wanted what was best for him. But now that people are all about kissing his ass since he had some new found fame? You wished things would go back to the way they were. And that made you a terrible person.
Who would want things to go back when your love was treated terribly?
But then you see girls like Montana clinging to his side and that little green monster in the pit of your stomach begins growing and growing until it leads to moments like now, with you standing at the bar clutching your glass like it was the only thing tethering you to this earth.
Yet another gala was being thrown, this time it was ‘Rockstars for Schooling Funds’ and Bucky was required to attend for PR. And attend your man did. The jacket, the tie, the pushed back hair and the hot ass glare.
From the second you saw him ready for tonight you were ready to pull him into the bedroom and never leave, your skin grew hot just remembering the feeling of his hands roaming your body as you tried to lead him into the bedroom. He obviously didn’t fall for it and now you were here watching Montana hold onto his arm as she laughed at something he said.
As if sensing your glare he turns to catch your eye, and you know that he was surveying your safety by the sharp look in his eyes and all you can think was ‘God bless your dads genetics’. But you refuse to break for him, so you shrug and turn back to the bar ready to order yourself another drink.
Best thing about wearing a dress like the one you were wearing tonight? Attention. Within seconds the men at the bar were clamoring to buy you a drink, crooked smiles and lame pick up lines. The prized contender? The southern man with kind eyes wearing his very own black cowboy hat.
This could be fun.
“What’ll it be?” He drawls and you have to fight off the blush filling your cheeks just at the sound of it.
“Hmm, I haven't decided yet.” You flirt, batting your lashes for a second. “Think you can help a girl out?”
“There’s the ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy’.” He reads off the little menu, looking up to you from under his hat, giving a smooth wink and you huff out a small laugh.
“Would it be worth my time?”
“It’s the best on the menu from what I can see.” As if on cue you both look out to the crowd around you at the gala, with loud music and cheesy rockstar costumes, and whilst he is trying to make a point your eyes roam for a familiar head of hair. But the group that Bucky had been sitting with for the past 30 minutes was now short a member, your man. “Who would want to waste time with any of these cruds when you could have a real drink sugar?”
But the words were lost on you as your eyes traced over the room in a hurried panic. Where did he go?
But then your nose fills with a familiar woodsy scent as a familiar arm wraps around your waist in a tight grip that has the cowboy standing straight up in his own panic.
“Yeah Doll, how bout a real drink?”
-
“You make me wanna make you fall in love
Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah
Wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs?
Oh, I hear you knockin', baby, come on up”
-
That little green monster building in your stomach? Now she had a fire pal burning straight through your skin at the image of the icy glare Bucky managed to send in the cowboys direction, the fingers on your waist tightening and digging into your skin.
“I was just talking to my friend here about drinks.” You hum out, watching his jaw tighten as he continues to glare. “What do you know about drinks?”
The cowboy, who you now knew to be a foolish man since he still stood in that spot, lets out a smooth chuckle. “Considering he’s holding an old fashioned I would say not much, Sugar.”
“Really? I always thought that the old fashioned ways worked in seduction. At least they did for me.” Bucky all but growls out, pulling you closer to him. “Now how bout we ask the gal. Do my old fashioned ways work?”
As if to prove his point he presses his thigh between your legs just a notch and squeezed at your waist, you were lost.
“No words? Hmm? Interesting.” He smiles, “Think you need a break from the crowd?”
He doesn’t waste time waiting for an answer, rather he keeps his grip on your waist as he leads you through the large gala, keeping the glare on his features that has people backing away to avoid his anger. You however basked in it, and as he lead you into the bathroom with the slam of the door and an easy movement to lock the door.
You got right to work, hopping onto the counter and wiggling a bit as he turns back to you.
You look up at him through you lashes, kicking one foot out a bit to expose your leg to him. “I mean not that I don’t love this vibe, we didn’t pack the handcuffs baby.”
“Oh so the pretty girl thinks she’s funny.” He chuckles, stepping forward and moving his hands to the top of your thighs to squeeze before pulling you forward harshly. “In case you haven’t realized it, this is the moment where you start giving me reasons to give you what you so badly want.”
Words failed you as his palms roamed your skin, rubbing soft circles to begin pushing up your dress.
“Oh, I’m the one in trouble here?” You huff, leaning back as he pushed his way in between your thighs. “Funny, here I was thinking of granting you mercy.”
“Oh that’s how we are playing it, huh?” And just like that he is pressing the pad of his flesh thumb right onto your core, pulling a sharp gasp from you as you tried to close your legs out of instinct only for him to press you down with his metal hand. “You were saying, sugar?”
“Oh…” You moan, back arching as he circles his thumb with a smug smile, leaning into you to pull your lips into a fervent kiss. It draws your breath until your gasping into him for air, your hands woven into his hair to keep him there and save you all in the same go while he teases at pulling your panties down only to pull back in a matter of seconds leaving you there to try and catch your breath.
Seconds away from achieving your high only to be left stranded leaves you whining and leaning forward to get him back into your arms.
He tsks at you, pushing you back gently as you continue whining.
“What will you give me?”
“Anything.” You gasp out, kissing at the wrist of the hand holding you back, nipping at the flesh of it as you reach for him metal arm to pull you back in. He gives in a little, allowing you to press your hips into his so release some of the pressure. “Please baby.”
“Then how about you behave for the last hour, and we’ll go home and get you sorted. Yeah?”
“Fine,” You snip out, tracing your hand up his metal arm before making it to his collarbone and pressing your hips further into his. “I’ll be good. I promise.”
-
“I know you want my touch for life
If you love me right, then who knows?
I might let you make me Juno
You know I just might”
-
And you feel like a fool for making that promise as he leads you through the crowd once more, this time with a pressure begging to be released in your lower belly as he keeps his metal hand on your lower back. The chill of the metal while your body is ablaze has you reeling, reaching a hand back to keep a hold on him.
You think of all the things he can do to you as he talks with the Galas president, digging your nails into the sleeve of his tux as you push your thighs together a bit, leaning your nose into him to inhale his scent as he talks with a bold presence.
When that Montana girl comes back you learn that she is an assistant for the program and that little green monster leads you to nip at his ear in front of her before kissing at his neck to leave a lipstick mark.
He looks at you for a moment, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips before turning to talk to her some more but it’s too late, you’re already in a haze. The green monster and the red flame have mixed to make their very own monster.
So you pull him in by his tie, pressing your lips to his ear and whispering the words you knew would break him. “Gimme me a baby.”
-
“Let you lock me down tonight
One of me is cute, but two though?
Give it to me, baby
You make me wanna make you fall in love (Oh)”
-
It was the one secret weapon you’ve never used, but have always known about.
Back in the beginning of the relationship while you were learning the ins and outs of eachother you noticed how much he loved the pill since it hadn’t been too popular back in his day. He loved the freedom it gave him to mark you as his, but you also noticed the lingering gaze on your stomach and or the intent look he gave when you took the pill.
But you had never been ready for a kid, you wanted to save that for that someone special who you could raise them with. But you knew that Bucky was it, you knew that he was your touch for life. Why not give in?
And the thrill of giving in the second his eyes meet yours makes it worth it, seeing the heat as he pulls you in so tight you might as well be one person.
“Come on baby, one of me is cute but two though?” You whisper, leaning up to bite at his lip before his hands come up to pull you into a feral kiss as he begins to lead you out the doors.
-
“I showed my friends, then we high-fived (Ah-ah)
Sorry if you feel objеctified (Ah-ah)
Can't help myself, hormonеs are high
Give me more than just some butterflies”
-
“Easy there.” He grunts out the second you press him into the seats of the limo, straddling him with ease as your nails rake down his chest to begin tracing the buttons of his shirt. “I might feel objectified.”
“I don’t give a shit,” You gasp, ripping his shirt open before attacking his chest with kisses. You take to kissing his chest, dragging your lips from spot to spot in order to mark him as much as you can as he pulls you down to move his hips into your with a groan.
Your eyes flutter closed at the heat that crosses through your body at the sound, whining out a bit as he begins to grind into you, pulling you up from his chest with a swift pull to lock your lips together as the limo makes a turn.
The kiss was feral, teeth gnashing, thigh clenching kiss that has you gripping his shoulders and pushing your hips into his a little quicker. Biting down onto his lip when he stills your hips with his hands before pulling back.
“You gonna let me lock you down?” He whispers, rubbing your hip as he moves you with ease until your legs are splayed over his lap and he can reach between them to pull more moans from you. “Gonna let me keep you forever?”
“Yes….” You whine out the second he begins rubbing at your core once more, this time with the metal hand. The chill of the metal over the fabric is driving you crazy and you press your hips up for more pressure and as a sign you want the panties off.
He is quick to oblige, pulling his hand to the waistband of them and ripping them off in one easy movement before pushing his fingers back to ease one into your center. “I’ll give you anything you want. But you already knew that when you said I could give you a baby. Didn’t you?”
And just like that he pushes two more fingers in, curling them in a fluid motion as his lips press into the pressure point of your throat. He works his fingers in a fast paced motion as you close your eyes and give into the feeling, letting him suck and bite at your neck as much as he wanted to.
And once you reach your high he merely speeds up his movements until your shaking in his lap.
“Atta girl.” He grunts, pulling his fingers up to suck on while you blink at him, still shaking from that orgasm.
“I love you.” You murmur to him, leaning on for a gentle kiss. He laughs into it, rubbing at the back of your neck in a sweet gesture before putting your torn panties in his pocket and looking to see how close you are to home.
-
“You make me wanna make you fall in love
Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah
Wanna try out some freaky positions?
Have you ever tried this one?”
-
The calm ease he had built up for the rest of the limo ride was quick to vanish the second the limo pulled up to the curb, pushing the door open and pulling you out so quickly your legs swing until he pulls you up so you can wrap them around his waist. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” You giggle, letting him carry you inside until the front door closes and he can set you down to lock it. Even in the mix of all this he can never slack on your safety, and you were sure that once he spent all your energy he would come down here for one last safety check.
You let him do what he needed to do, walking to the kitchen with a fleeting look to him before grabbing a glass of water to sip on while you waited, legs still a little shaky. But you don’t have much time since he comes around the corner into the kitchen, leaning on the fridge with a small smile as he watches you every movement.
“Everything locked up and safe?” You ask, moving one step closer to him.
“Yes.” He responds, the deep voice causing a shiver to move down your spine as he takes a step similar to yours without taking his eyes off you.
“I think it’s so hot you know.” One of his eyebrows raise at your words, the small smile turning into a smirk. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone in this world as protective as you.”
He merely hums back, taking another step closer as his eyes roam over your body. “Yeah?”
“Mmhmm. And I was thinking that you deserved an award.”
“I do?” You almost laugh at how innocent the question comes out, but you don’t have time since your already turning to press yourself into the counter, pushing your hips out and pulling your dress up to expose yourself to him as he audibly growls. “Have we every tried this before?”
-
“I know you want my touch for life
If you love me right, then who knows?
I might let you make me Juno
You know I just might”
-
His hands are upon you in an instant, rubbing at your hips as his body presses into yours to kiss at the back of your neck, and you realize that he is still wearing his undershirt and pants. The metal of the belt buckle digs into your back as you reach back to undo his belt.
You hear him undo it and get ready, pressing your forehead into the tile of the counter as he grabs your hands and begins wrapping your hands together with the leather belt. And you should be embarrassed at the moan that fills the air once you realize what he is doing before he undoes his pants and you feel him press at your center.
He’s quick to press in, and you both your moans fill the air as he presses his forehead into the exposed skin of your back before beginning to rut himself up into you. With every aggressive push of his hips into yours the doors of the cabinet on the counter shake, the cold tile of the counter hitting your hip over and over and over as he claims you for his own.
With one hand holding the belt that is biting into the flesh of your wrists and the other holding the counter to keep you both stable he stands straight and lets free. Every harsh threat is followed by his grunts and your moans, the sound of skin slapping filling the room before the hand from the counter comes to hold your hair.
It’s feral, and hot. And the feeling of his flesh hand pulling at your hair has you tightening around him enough that he can’t fight his own moan.
And the second you hear it you are coming undone around him, shaking harshly as he keeps you held up before you collapse, continuing his thrusts until you reach the peak of the high once more and spasm around him.
Once you come down, panting heavily and keeping your forehead pressed into the cold tile, he works on undoing his belt to release you as he pulls himself out of you and pulls his pants up.
You are quick to turn on him, tears in your eyes partly due to the intense orgasm and the fact that you still haven’t gotten what you wanted. “Baby please….”
“Easy doll.” He whispers, pulling you into his arms to wrap himself around you, picking you up easily. “You’ll get it. Don’t you fret.”
-
“Let you lock me down tonight
One of me is cute, but two though?
Give it to me, baby
You make me wanna make you fall in love”
-
He carries you into the bedroom bridal style, setting you down at the foot of the bed before leaning down to grab the end of your dress and pull it over your head, kissing his way up your body so slowly you feel like you might just die. By the time the fabric is over your head he throws it to the side, his gaze meeting yours in a tense blaze.
You knew within an instant that he had gotten serious, and as you kept your gaze on his he let your hands roam until you begin pulling his undershirt off before you reach to undo his waistband. “What’s that look for?”
“Did you know….” He keeps his voice to a whisper as he kicks off his shoes and shucks off his pants, pulling off his socks and throwing everything to the side before moving his hands to either side of your cheeks. “That it’s not actually proven that the amount of orgasms a women has is connected to their ability to conceive.”
“Yeah?” You smile, waiting for him to get to the point
“I did a lot of research.” He says proudly, “So though the amount of orgasms I give you don’t end up mattering in the end…..they sure are fun.”
And you can’t fight the loud laugh that escapes when he gently tackles you onto the bed, making it bounce a bit as he pushes your thighs open with his hands and pressing them into you by the backs of them.
“You ready doll?”
“Always for you sergeant.”
-
“Adore me
Hold me and explore me
Mark your territory (Ah-ah)
Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one (Ah-ah)”
-
He keeps the eye contact, soft and open, as he slides himself between your folds to use your past orgasms as his lubricant before pressing into your center and moaning a bit as he pushes himself in. Whereas the romp downstairs had been feral and fast this one started slow, allowing him to kiss at your face as you adjusted to his size this time.
His weight presses you into the bed, and your hands find purchase at his back so he can pull himself back before pushing his hips back into yours. Slow and precise, every pull he left a kiss and every push has just enough friction on your core that has you arching your back.
It had been years of him learning your body and by this point he knew how to play it like the back of his hand. It was his and he liked keeping what's his cared for. When you arched a little more he knew he should speed up, and when you closed your eyes he reached a hand down to grip at the fat of your ass, fingers digging in as he readjusted you both for more pleasure.
And once you came around him, spasming and moaning loudly, all bets were off.
-
“Adore me
Hold me and explore me (Ah-ah)
I'm so fuckin' horny
Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one”
-
His entire weight comes down, crushing you beneath him not that your complaining. Between the warmth of his skin and the mix of your sweat with his you both have traction to move as his thrusts turn wild.
Over and over at a speed he hadn’t reached with you before, his eyes are clenched shut as he ruts into you, overstimulating you as you begin to sob from the pleasure. Your entire body shakes with every intense hump.
Between his thrusts you meet your peak once more, screaming out as his own thrusts become erratic and harsher.
By the time he finishes he leans down to your ear so you can hear the heavy moan that escapes him as he fills you to the brim, shaking and pinching you with his metal arm. And his release seems never ending as he continues to thrust, until you are both completely spent and collapse into the cool sheets.
-
“(Oh, I) I know you want my touch for life
If you love me right, then who knows?
I might let you make me Juno
You know I just might (Might)”
-
You had managed to fall asleep and only woke up at the realization that he wasn’t near you, vision blurry as you looked around. He had cleaned you up and tucked you in with a glass of water on the nightstand, but his side of the bed was empty.
So you sit up, ready to go check on him, until you realize how sore you were and stay on the bed to listen for him. You hear the sound of him shuffling around downstairs to check all the locks before he begins climbing up the stairs.
You know he makes the noise for you, otherwise he would be as stealthy as an assassin.
By the time he enters the doorway there is a small smile playing at his lips while you open your arms and pull him in to lay with you.
“Goodnight.” You whisper.
“Goodnight, Doll.”
-
“Let you lock me down tonight
One of me is cute, but two though?
Give it to me, baby
You make me wanna make you fall in love”
-
The waiting was the most dreadful feeling.
Sitting on the edge of the bathtub with the test sitting on the counter between where you sat and where your husband sat in the hallway with the back of his head laid against the door.
It was silent but not in a malicious way, more of a calming way as his metal hand whirred before the alarm on your phone goes off and you both shoot up to look.
“Is it…”
“I….”
And you both lean to look at the same time to see just how well those new positions took.
-
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel smut#marvel fluff#marvel angst#winter soldier
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Overworked- DCxDP prompt
The knight led the group of selected heroes into the throne room. Sitting before a crowd of his people was none other than the ghost king.
"Do not test His Majesty, his mood his well this day. Say only what is necessary." The knight warned before stepping aside.
The kind wasn't what Constantine had mentioned. He was young and rather small for the throne he now sits on. The green flaming crown was unmistakable though.
The young man glared at them with intense animosity, his upper lip curled as he held back a reflexive snarl. Sharp canines peeked out just for a moment as he schooled his expression.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?" The kind said drumming his fingers on the armrest of his chair. His black claws each clicking aginst the cold metal.
The group had been briefed on the situation by Constantine after they were summoning to this realm.
The short and sweet was that they were being mandated to appear before the king of the infinite realms for a long list of violations against the order of the universe. The current group contains Bruce, Clark, Wally, Kon, Jason, Hal, Barry, and Damian. Constantine himself will also be there but he already knows that this tribunal will have multiple groups.
The group reamined mostly silent.
"Where you not read your list of crimes?" The boy asked this time.
An attendant scurried through the crowd with a large scroll in hand before the king immediately waved him off tp return to his post.
"No, lets skip the reading. It would take cycles to get through the charges. Let me be brief. You have all been found guilty of charges of resurrection, time traveling, timeline manipulation, Planetary rearranging courtesy of Mr.Kent here, Interdimensional universe travel, and UNIVERSE MELDING! THE LIST GOES ON!" The king became more irate with every charge. "Tell me why I shouldn't banish you to an empty dimension right this instance."
Constantine knew this was all politics at the end of the day. This whole thing could be smoothed over with the right words by the right person.
"We are human." Bruce said firmly before anyone could stop him. Jason held back a groan of agitation.
"...So you are. What does that have to do with anything?" He boy asked.
"Isn't it natural for us to want to live and do whatever we can to keep living?" Bruce responded
Murmurs erupted amongst the crowd of onlookers.
"So what? Do you think you are the exception then? Look around heroes. This room is full of ghosts who would also have done to keep living. My people couldn't avoid death but they accepted it. What can I say to them if I let you go while they paid their price? How fair would that be?" The king condemned.
The murmurs turned into cheers for their king's words. It was unfair. Why do they get to do what they want without repercussions when they died without even getting the option to live?
"If it counts for anything many of us died to protect as many people as possible," Hal said.
"Well, good for you. How much was that sacrifice worth in the face of your resurrection? That probably doesn't feel cheap at all." The king said sarcastically. "I suppose that goes for most of you."
"I have an objection. Resurrection is not a choice if someone chooses to bring us back we don't get a say. By default we shouldn't be charged for it." Jason argued.
The king paused and raised a hand silencing the crowd.
"Hmmm, I suppose you are correct. Fine, I will strike it from the record." The kind relented.
The heroes had finally found an in. If they could argue their charges down they could leave.
"None of use have willingly time traveled. Hell i hated it. Being lost in time was not a chose we made." Wally said as Barry nodded along.
The king bit the inside of his cheek as he pondered the response.
"I suppose I can overlook it."
"Let me just say that any melding of the universe happened as a consequence of our battle with Darkside." Clark said getting rid of their their biggest charge.
"Darkside?" The king narrowed his eyes.
A courtier stepped forward and leaned down to whisper into the boy king's ear.
"I see. He will be added to the ledger for his crimes. His trial will not be as forgiving as yours. You will not be seeing him again." The boy silently signaled to the knight who bowed and exited with a group of others.
The boy sighed and stood up.
"Follow me."
The group was led down a long corridor to an office with stacks of paperwork from floor to ceiling lining the walls.
"Welcome to my personal hell." The king announced.
Constantine whistled at the sheer number of documents scattered across the room.
"Sorry about the whole court thing. I don't really want to do it but I kind of have to. The Observers demand some kind of punishment for violations. Also, you need to understand that your actions are kept track of and you can't escape it. When you break the rule I have to do the paperwork. AND I HATE PAPERWORK. So here is the deal. You guys bring me the people that have done worse than you on this list and I'll call it square. And if you don't I take everyone's souls." The King handed the scroll to Bruce. "I want the Al Ghul clan first."
"Wait but my-" Damian spoke out but was cut off by the King's raised hand to silance him.
"It is irrelevant to me what your personal issues are. Every violator will be judged for their crimes. If they can give me a good plea then they can return. Consider yourself lucky that you're too young for a full sentencing. As for the rest just do what I say and make up for your crimes. This is a mercy so don't complain."
It was clear that the moody young king wasn't going to argue. It was best to keep quiet and before they knew it the group was sent back to earth.
"You have no idea how lucky we got," Constantine said lighting up a cigarette and leaving to get a drink.
#dc x dp#dpxdc#dc x dp prompt#dp x dc prompt#danny fenton#danny phantom#ghost king danny#batman#superman#bruce wayne#jason todd#damian wayne#clark kent#hal jordan#barry allen
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Four Times the Batkids Forget They're Adopted, and The One Time Damian Forgets He Isn't
It had started off as a joke, as most things do, and Dick meant nothing behind it, really. It was amusing to him, actually, to tell his coworkers things about Batman and pass it off as his father. “Oh my dad? Yeah hes not big on talking. He loves showing me he cares though.” (this was, of course, in reference to Batman doing three back flips and a kick split when Nightwing had patrolled with him the other day, a classic Nightwing move) But it soon…went deeper. Dick stopped making jokes out of it, and actually began listing things about Bruce. About his Dad. It didn't help that his police friends were actually interested. “So did you and the old man do anything fun over the weekend?” Dick thought back to how he had wanted to surprise Bruce by stopping by for dinner and instead had ended up in the sewer eating granola bars on a stakeout for killer croc, who had escaped. Again. “Oh yeah we had a picnic.” Dick nodded, smiling at Randy. “Yeah. He’s, he’s kinda bad at remembering when to eat a meal on time and all that.” Dick laughed. “Its something I share too. Must be genetics.” He rolled his eyes. Randy laughed, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I hear you. My old man smoked all the live long day. I try to keep it down, but that addiction gene is just strong eh?” Dick chuckled. “Yeah I guess.” His phone buzzed in his pocket and he waved to Randy, turning to tug it out. It was one, simple message from Babs. “Ur adopted genius. What genes.”
Jason didn't even know how they had gotten on the topic. But here they were. “Yes. I got my mothers hair, of course, but I get my temper from my father.” Artemis was saying. “I have parents.” Bizarro grunted. Roy laughed, smacking him on the shoulder. “Well you certainly didn't get Kal’s looks buddy. But you do have his killer hair.” Starfire laughed. “That is true. I, for one, share my parents hair and have my fathers powers. But truly the best gene I was given were my mothers eyes.” They all turned to Jason. “What about you?” Roy asked. Jason scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, I used to have my dads eyes but um after the pit y'know,” He waved to his now green eyes. “And actually I have my dads dark black hair, and he’s graying early too, which might be why my white streak is so prominent.” They nodded in agreement. “But yeah, hes actually a little taller than me so maybe I’ll still grow a few inches but uh yeah. I don't… remember my mother enough to talk about her.” “Dang man. I wish we could meet your dad.” Roy murmured, laying a comforting hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Then we could really compare. I mean-” He laughed. “You sound like his carbon copy.” Jason frowned at his friend. “What do you mean? You’ve met Bruce?” They stared at him. “Jason,” Artemis began slowly. “Aren't you adopted?”
Tim hunched over the information form, eyes straining to read the small print. His hand reached up to stifle a yawn and he settled for a sigh instead. It was late, but Tim needed to get the form done before he went to bed, otherwise everything would be far too stressful in the morning. He reached over and grabbed his coffee mug, a dark black cup that had a red R painted on it poorly. Bruce had made it for him a few years ago when he had first become Red Robin. He sipped it, staring down at the medical form. “Gods I hate having to do this.” He muttered, but reluctantly grabbed the thick medical binder Alfred had obligingly gotten for him when he had asked for medical records of the family. Tim did not under any circumstances, want to have to sit at the doctors office the next day and somehow lie his way through all the medical questions relating to his family history. He didn't have the time nor patience for it, and it was crucial he was given proper medical advice what with his missing spleen. “Any history of heart issues Bruce?” Tim muttered, flipping back past Martha and Thomas to Bruce’s great great great grandfather. “Nope, guess not.” Tim was halfway through the form when he realized the blood coursing through his veins wasn't Bruce’s.
Steph rubbed a hand across her belly, staring at the monitor. “Your baby looks good Ms. Brown. They’re at the proper stage. Due in about two months. We’ll see you back here for your next check up.” “thank you doctor.” Steph murmured, sliding off the bed and dressing quickly before hurrying out to her car. The car door slammed shut behind her and she breathed, pressing her forehead to the steering wheel. Her phone buzzed. She lifted it and pressed it to her ear, hitting accept. “Hello?” “hey Steph.” Bruce’s voice vibrated through the phone. “How was your doctors appointment?” Steph gave a bitter laugh. “Everything looks good. The baby will come in about two months.” “Thats good. Thats real good.” Steph nodded, eyes closed. “You doing okay Stephanie?” Bruce asked, voice soft. “I don't know.” her voice broke and she squeezed her eyes shut, fighting tears. “I just- I’m so scared Bruce. So scared.” Bruce hummed comfortingly through the phone. “I know Steph. Its scary. And parenting, its hard.” Steph coughed out a watery chuckle. “Was that a hit?” She muttered, rubbing a hand over her face. Bruce chuckled. “No. Baby it wasn't. And just think, you’ll get to see all the firsts I didn't get with you. Their first steps. Their first wave. You might even get to hear them say mama before i kidnap- i mean adopt him or her.” Steph laughed again, and it sounded less watery. “Yeah. Well, when do kids start walking?” She asked in interest, sniffing and sitting up straight again. Bruce hummed. “Well i started walking almost immediately, but Im special.” Steph laughed. “Of course.” “alfred said i first started talking when I was around thirteen months old, and Talia said Damian was walking by ten, but she could have been lying.” Steph nodded. “Tell me more.” She whispered. Bruce obliged, happy to distract her. “Oh and whats probably going to be your favorite, babies, or at least I did, start laughing at around four months.” “laughing?” Steph gasped. “Oh Brucie!!! Thats too funny! Little chubby baby you, the future batman, laughing!” She cooed. She could almost feel his eye roll through the phone and stifled her laugh. “So yeah..” Bruce finished. “You should expect your kiddo to start walking around then. And laughing probably sooner. I would have if you'd be in my life at that time.” Steph was quiet. “Thank you B.” He hummed. “Anytime Steph. I’ll always be here to help you.” “Wait wait wait-” a new voice joined in the background of Bruce. “Are you guys serious right now?” Steph identified it as Jason. “What?” Bruce asked puzzled. “B, Stephs adopted. Her kid is as likely to walk at the same time you did as when she did!”
“Damian?” “Go away Drake.” Damian called back, riffling through the papers. “Dami?” Tim poked his head into his younger brothers room. “Oh hey kiddo. Whatcha doing?” “I am busy Timothy.” Damian countered in annoyance, shoving the box back under his bed and moving to his desk. “What are you looking for?” Tim asked puzzled. Damian ignored him. “Dami.” “Go away Timothy.” Tim crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Come on Baby Bird. Tell me.” Damian shook his head, covering the blush on his cheeks by poking behind the desk. “Damian.” Tim’s hand was suddenly on his back. Damian jumped. Tim held up his hands in surrender. “Just tell me. I’m sure I can help you find it.” Damian sighed in acceptance, cheeks pink. “I have.. Lost my adoption papers.” He muttered, staring at the floor. But Tim didn't laugh or ridicule him. In fact, when he looked up, his brother seemed thoughtful. “Well i know me and dick and jason have them hung over our beds…” His gaze drifted to the very clearly empty space above Damians bed. “I know.” Damian jerked his head in a nod. “That is why I wished to find it.” Tim nodded in understanding. “Well, lets go look in the den. Thats where Alfred keeps all the legal stuff.” Damian trailed after his brother to the living room and watched as he opened the cabinet and pulled out three boxes. “You look through this one, I’ll search these two.” Tim ordered. Damian nodded, accepting the box. It was where Alfred found them, two hours later, broom in hand. “My dear sirs, what are you doing?” The butler asked in bafflement. “Looking for Damians adoption record.” Tim answered, nose still in some papers. Alfred looked at them. “Master Tim. Master Damian.” The two boys looked up. “Yes Alfred?” Tim asked. Alfred's face was fond and utterly confused. “Master Damian is not adopted. He is Master Bruce’s blood son.”
@nonepizzawithleftglitter @zombiewithaflowercrown
you asked and you shall recieve!
#i only went with four because they were only so many things i could think of for them to forget theyre adopted#batfam#batkids#stephanie brown#tim drake#jason todd#dick grayson#damian wayne#batfamily#batman and robin#hope it lived up to your dreams
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