#i straight up started crying because of the bastard
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roslina-w-bagnie · 10 months ago
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i swear to god i want to break the fucking wizards face against a brick wall so much rn. APPARENTLY if you dont actively discourage gale at all points in the game, even if its just once that youre not strictly against it, HE'LL DECIDE TO PERSUE THE CROWN AND BECOME A FUCKING GOD.
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i am so fucking angry right now. because its my second playthrough and the first i actually gave a shit about him and actually romanced him.
ok, to be fair im someone who really gets into roleplaying and it can affect me deeply on a personal level, but the moment the love of my durge's live just up and walked away and he made this face????
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my heart fucking broke yall. fucking wizards
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glitterycvm · 3 months ago
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men who are just an absolute pain in the ass...
they're always stirring up some trouble. whether that be starting some drama between people or simply annoying people because they find it "funny"
or just straight up annoying YOU. their so-called "girlfriend". no matter what it seems like he'll never stop teasing you. he's always reminding you about the embarrassing time you tripped and fell in front of everybody at the grocery store, or the time you accidentally spat in him while talking super fast.
he's not only annoying. no. he's the most cocky and cunning bastard you've ever met in your whole life. seriously what guy whispers the most horny and lewd sentences into your ear, and then proceed to wear the most naive and innocent face ever. oh how you want to slap that stupid shit eating grin right off his face!
"remember last night when you were crying for my cock to fill you up? you looked so dumb begging f'me like that sweetheart... seriously"
"when we get home, I'm going to rip that skirt in half. you'd like that wouldn't you? you like it whenever I treat you like a worthless sexdoll, hm?"
and when you get home it's not a different story either. you're bent over the kitchen counter, the skirt being lifted up because you're boyfriend couldn't bother to at least take it off.
below you lay the new panties you just bought. not even a week ago. they're ripped in half all because your boyfriend couldn't spare another second to ease his angry erection. he doesn't care. why should he? he could always get you some new ones, he'll even help you pick them out
your hands are gripping the countertop tightly, holding on for dear life as the rapid feeling of skin slapping follows suit. your legs feel numb and your mind is gummylike, no thoughts. only the feeling of a pulsating cock being slammed in and out of you.
your boyfriend is behind you, groaning like a bitch in heat. he's so loud you wonder if the neighbors ever complain about him. hes whimpering out your name alongside many curses. you should really scold him for having such a potty mouth.
but why should you, he tugs on your hair just perfectly, making you look directly into his eyes. they're half lidded and look so pussy drunk and his mouth slightly agape. you'd hate to admit it but he looks so good all desperate and needy like this.
as your daydream slowly ends the reality of life hits you when you start to actually listen what your boyfriend's been rambling about. "fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck baby... shit im gonna fill ya up okay? shit keep looking at me like that pretty girl..." he cries.
"wait!- no don't!-" but it's too late. one last thrust and warm silky strings of cum shoot throughout your body, your boyfriends hips shaking as he fills you up.
"whoops!" he mutters from behind you.
that son of a bitch.
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GOJO, geto, toji, SERO, bakugo, denki, dabi, HAWKS, DAZAI, eren, + any of ur favs!!
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fettuccin-e · 1 year ago
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Man in the Mirror
Kinktober Day 19: Voyeurism
Tags: Marc Spector x Reader x Steven Grant, afab!fem!reader, consensual voyeurism, unprotected piv (pls wrap it in real life omg), dirty talk, slight degradation, Steven watches Marc fuck you through a mirror idk what to tell you (w/c: 1K)
A/N: Back with the boys because I love them and I cannot help myself okay!!! And this is consensual, even though Steven doesn't exactly know it at the beginning, he just thinks he's being a perv. But in my fics, everyone is a perv alright! (this month I have been using these prompts from flightlessangelwings!)
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Steven knows it’s wrong, God, it’s fucking wrong, but it’s like he can’t stop himself.
There’s something about the way Marc fucks you, the way you scrabble at the bedsheets when the shoves you into a lewd arch, his hand pressing into your back. The way you moan for it, heaving breaths into your lungs. It’s the way Marc talks to you through it, talking to you like you’re the filthy one, like you’re the one who’s desperate for it, even though Steven knows it’s both of you.
“God damn, baby,” Marc snarls, fucking into you hard enough that tears are starting to leak down your cheeks. “You’re fucking sucking me in, sweetheart. Feels good, huh? Getting fucked like you need?”
“Yes, fuck, yes,” you gasp through the moans he forces out of your mouth with every thrust. “It’s so fucking good, Marc, you’re so fucking deep.”
Steven should stop, right now. Go hide in the headspace, go to sleep and let you both have some privacy. Fuck, he's as naked as Marc is right now, he should feel exposed, have some god damn decency. But it’s like he’s stuck in place, staring in through the mirror as Marc rips you apart in ways he’s never dreamed to. It’s fucking addicting to watch the way your eyes roll back, the way your ass smacks back against Marc every time he shoves himself in, in, in. He reaches down to his bare cock and squeezes, unable to help it.
You’d only put this mirror up a week ago, and he hadn't even thought about the positioning of it. It’s placed on the wall right across from the foot of your bed, and fuck, he can see everything. He hadn’t noticed, hadn’t thought about this view when he had helped you set it straight, Marc coming into view in the reflection and smirking at Steven like he knew something he didn’t. Steven had brushed it off.
He shouldn’t have fucking brushed it off.
Because he’s sure, almost fucking positive, that Marc had somehow known. He’d known that Steven would watch, just like this, how Marc takes care of their girl. How he destroys you in ways that Steven can’t even think up on his own. It’s a special kind of torture, seeing you like this and not feeling it, not feeling you.
Marc’s thrusts are brutal, violent like the man himself. He treats you with so much care normally, Steven has seen it, but this isn’t gentle in the least. And you love it, crying out and drooling onto your sheets as Marc rips you to pieces, pulling you back onto his cock with thick fingers digging hard into your hips. He’s not sure how long he’s been watching intently, unable to tear his gaze away, when he sees Marc’s head snap up.
Looking right fucking at him.
Steven should go, disappear from the consciousness entirely, but it’s like he’s glued to the spot, his gaze locked with Marc’s. Marc’s thrusts don’t stutter, don’t stop, and you’re blissfully unaware as Marc watches Steven watch you.
Until Marc grins like the bastard he is, and leans down to mutter, just loud enough for Steven to hear, “Guess who’s here, gorgeous?”
“Wh-what?” you gasp through Marc’s unrelenting thrusts.
“He’s watching, baby,” Marc smiles, glancing up at Steven. “Just like you wanted.”
You wanted- you wanted? Steven’s breath catches in his throat, he’s pretty sure his heart stops fucking beating. 
“Steven,” you moan like it’s been punched out of you. “Steven’s here.”
“He’s watchin’ in that mirror you put up, sweetheart,” Marc says, “Watching me fuck you.” Steven is flushed beet-red, he knows it, but still, he watches. “Look at him, baby,” Marc growls, “Fucking look at him.”
Marc reaches up and curls a fist into your hair, tugging your head up to look straight into the mirror, straight at Steven. And God, you’re beautiful, tears falling down your face, your lips plump from the way you’ve been biting at them. You can’t see him, Steven knows that, but you look anyway, like you really can.
“She wanted this,” Marc snarls, and you clench your eyes shut, like you want to hide from Steven’s gaze. “She put that mirror up, hoping you’d watch like this. Wanted me to watch you both too, Steven.” You whine, and Marc’s thrusts seem to get even harder. “Our baby’s a little slut, just wants someone to watch her get fucked, isn’t that right, honey?”
“Your-” you gasp, staring into the mirror, like you’re talking to Steven, too. “Your slut, fuck, just yours.”
Marc fucking growls, his hips driving his cock into you. Steven can hear the way your pussy squishes around him, so wet you’re dripping down onto the sheets beneath you. Your body is covered in sweat, glinting in the light, practically glowing.
“Gonna let him fuck you after this, baby?” Marc grits, “Fucking whore for this cock, can’t get enough.” You slur a stream of yesyesyesyes as Marc reaches beneath you to start rubbing furiously at your clit, and you tremble beneath him.
“C’mon, gorgeous, cum for me.” Marc glances up at Steven. “Cum for both of us.”
Your eyes go wide, your mouth gaping open around a silent scream as you gush down Marc’s cock, body shaking as Marc fucks you through it, letting out a strangled groan of his own. Steven is hard as a fucking rock, straining against his stomach, begging for your touch. He watches as Marc thrusts deep and stills, his eyelids fluttering as he pumps you full of his cum.
You slump into the sheets, and Marc slides out of you, leaning down to kiss down your spine, muttering little praises of “such a good girl,” and “took it so well, looked so pretty,” into your skin. You roll onto your back, tugging Marc down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. Marc smiles against your mouth, and Steven feels that familiar pull to the front.
He shuts his eyes, and when he blinks them open again, you’re smiling up at him, reaching up to brush a reverent hand across his jaw.
“Enjoyed the show?” you whisper, and Steven can’t help the way he grins, the way his heart flutters.
“More than you know, darling,” he mutters, and leans to lick into your mouth. “Got to give Marc a show now, yeah?”
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peppermint-toads · 8 months ago
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*not proofread at all not even a little*
simon had finally, finally left you the fuck alone.
he’d been staying the night at your apartment for days on end, not that you minded. not really, at least.
you only started getting frustrated when you started getting… frustrated.
he’d left to go do some grocery shopping because you had “no fucking food in your house.” he needed to eat. sue him.
you played it casual, shrugging and throwing a sarcastic apology at him as he left. as soon as the door slammed shut, you were running to your bedroom and flinging open your nightstand drawer.
you grabbed your pink vibrator, a nice g-spot one.
this had to be quick. you’d never live it down if simon came home to see you in the midst of that. you got right to business, holding the power button until the familiar buzz overtook you.
you didn’t hear simon reentering. cheeky bastard only caused a ruckus when he was leaving.
“forgot it’s sunday love, shops are closed by now,” simon chuckled to himself. you didn’t respond, and you were nowhere to be seen. ah, your door was closed. you probably just wanted a nap.
simon approached, and his heart dropped when he heard cries of pain? he was immediately reaching for the door handle, but then the pain morphed into a sound he’d never heard you make. it was whinier than a cry of pain. it gave him pause.
“holy fuck! yes, yes, yes, yes!”
oh.
simon was totally not supposed to hear you climaxing.
he heard rustling behind the door and the squeak of your mattress as you got up. he’d memorized every creak the floor made and you were heading straight for him.
he took a few steps back as to hopefully look casual.
you opened your door with your eyes squeezed shut, arms reaching into the air as you stretched, shaking off the last bits of stress that washed away with your orgasm.
when you opened your eyes you were met with a rather stiff looking simon. why was he feeling so embarrassed? he’d gone to war for chrissakes and can’t handle just hearing the female orgasm?
luckily, you were completely oblivious.
“shops are closed. it’s sunday.” he repeated, more meekly this time.
“oh, okay. i’m sure there’s something in there. i’ll whip somethin’ up for you after i shower.”
you shoved past him and into the bathroom. the squeak of the shower head was mere background noise to all the thoughts racing through simon’s brain.
he stood paralyzed for at least two minutes.
the sliver of mussed sheets he could see through your cracked door was all too tempting.
he sat on your warm bed, and he swore he could smell you. he looked over at your nightstand. no. he shouldn’t. he can’t. that’d be wrong. so, so wrong.
andddd he’s reaching for the drawer.
he sees the toy, can see the slick on it from where you’d hastily shoved it back in just in case simon came home before you could clean it.
it was still warm. he looked at it, imagined the almost painful moans tearing from your throat. and he laughed. he laughed! the absolute gall of this man.
he’s sorry, it was just so small compared to him. he’d hate to imagine the struggle you’d go through taking him. he actually doesn’t hate it. he really loves it. loves it so much actually, all the blood in his entire giant body rushes right to his cock.
he leaves. immediately. he runs, literally runs, back to his apartment to rub one out. he returns to your apartment about an hour later with takeout in hand.
“didn’t want you to have to cook anything, love,” he lied. and you were none the wiser
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maudeeloise · 1 year ago
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Do you think you could do a Jacaerys x reader where they are childhood enemies but get betrothed and when things are going well in their marriage Jace misinterprets a moment with reader and someone else and accuses the reader to be pregnant with a bastard until it’s born looking exactly like him and he must reconcile and win reader back.
Sworn Enemies || j.v
Pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x reader
Warning : none
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You weren’t surprised. When your mother mentioned it and your sister ran into your room to check on you a few moments after your talked with your mother.
You were a noble and you had known since the very first that you would be bethrothed with another noble. Unfortunately, your family was being too close to the Targaryens that the first person they chose for you to marry was the last person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.
The marriage was rocky and was filled with arguments — even about the smallest things. Your marriage was built by loath instead of love. You couldn’t stand his arrogance and he couldn’t stand your stubborness. Your hatred towards each other was so deep in your blood that it became the reason you ended up with his child.
Just like any other night, there you stood in different sides of your shared chambers. The bed seperating you as you had argued since the past hour.
“Don’t you dare lie to me!” Jace’s voice roared, filling the room with his anger.
“How dare you accuse me of something I didn’t do?!” You matched his tone, firm and loud.
“I am not accusing you of anything!” His jaw clenched slightly. “That baby is a bastard and you know I’m right.”
You bit back your tongue once you processed his words. He called your son a bastard. He called his own son a bastard.
“You are insane.” You spat through gritted teeth. “You have no proof on what you believe in, however I do and you’re too terrified that I might be right.”
“Nonsense!” He shook his head. “I’m not terrified of anything because I know I’m right.”
“Then take a look at your own son!” You pointed at the crib which was placed beside your side of the bed. “You have refused to even take a peak of him since he was born. Do you despise him that much?”
“He is not my son!” His voice boomed through the room.
A sudden cry broke from the baby, stealing both your attentions. You rushed towards the crib and took the baby gently before rocking him in your arms. Whispers of sweet nothings followed by a humming of the first song which came to your mind, eventually died down the cries. It only took a while before the baby went back to his slumber.
Disgust written on Jace’s face as he watched the two of you. “We need to get rid of him as soon as possible.”
Your face fell in surprise at his suggestion. There was a long moment of a pause before you moved to place the baby back on his crib. A long sigh left your lips in disbelief.
You were tired of convincing him. If you had to be honest, it hurt you every time. You wouldn’t care if he was mocking you nor he was treating you as if you had betrayed his family, but it was his son he was hating. His own flesh and blood he planned to banish.
“Are you really that insisting?” Your voice broke. Your heart aching. But you forced yourself to keep a fierce look on your face and your posture straight.
Jace let out a scoff. “You were the one who betrayed this marriage.”
“I would never!” Your voice heightened, but it wasn’t anger. You were exhausted. “I may despise you with every inch of my body, but I would never do such. I love my family and I would do anything to keep our names clean, so don’t you ever start a rumor just because you got tired of me.”
“Got tired of you?” Jace taunted. “I had wished for your death since forever, but I have never started such rumours.”
“Then whoever did!” Your chest moved up and down. Your eyes were filled with desperation, silently pleading for him to believe you. “You may hate me for the rest of your life, but that is your son, Jacaerys! Just for this once, I am asking you to second your beliefs.”
“He is not my son!”
“Take a look for yourself!”
That was the last thing you said before you exit the room. It was starting to become too much for you. Your chest hurt from holding back tears. You didn’t want to seem weak in front of him, or else he would’ve thought he won the argument.
Once you found yourself in the middle of the empty hallway, you broke down. A hand covering your mouth to silent the cries as you fell down to your knees.
On the other side of the door, stood a hesitant Jacaerys. If he had to be honest, a part of him wanted to believe you, but he had to big of an ego and a habit of always wanting to be better than you, so he was persistance of his opinion.
His eyes stared at the crib for a long minute. He was arguing with his mind whether he should just leave the room or do as you ask. His hands were fisting the material of his coat.
“Fuck this.” He said before walking up towards the crib.
His angry expression was soon replaced by a soft one once his eyes caught a glimpse of the baby. His mouth fell open slightly. The baby was a carbon copy of him — brunette hair, brown eyes, his nose, his lips. Shame masked his face the longer he looked at the baby.
He stumbled back in surprise. His hands were holding at the crib to steady himself. Guilt rushed through him like a wave of tsunami. You weren’t lying. The baby was his heir, his firstborn, his own flesh and blood.
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alyakthedorklord · 1 year ago
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Omg literally it would be SO cool if you wrote the rest of the playboy bruce trying to kiss the justice league without them realizing it (I know you said figure it out but the way you wrote it was so good and funn I would love it if you gave maybe a couple of scenarios)
Lmao honestly executive dysfunction is kicking my ASS rn and it was intended as a prompt. I will try tho, definitely taking inspiration from the others who responded to the post because I love them.
If you haven’t, go check out the notes on the OG Post above! @britcision, @ivywing, and @help-i-need-a-cool-username all had amazing additions and @foursixtwonineoh-pieces-of-lego wrote a fic:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/48325771
As did @scrapcheck, still in progress
And Devilhorn!
Anyways LONG post under the cut
Hal Jordan
Hal is first to prove a POINT, as @britcision decided. Also because the bastard made it waaaay too easy. Remember- Hal was Joking. He genuinely thinks Batman isn’t going to try, because he’s way too straight-laced boring.
So when he’s at a bar in Coast City, and he sees this absolutely ravishing man lounging casually against the wall, bar lighting making him practically glow (he CALCULATED that) subtle makeup making his bright blue eyes pop as he looks Hal up and down… Well. Hal makes the first move.
Hal: “All on your own, handsome?”
Bruce, with “Mastermind” by Taylor Swift playing in his head, smiling sweetly at Hal: “Care to change that?”
They start talking. Hal doesn’t recognize Bruce Wayne at ALL (canonically he does not know who Bruce Wayne is, a point brought up by @help-i-need-a-cool-username) so all he knows is Bruce is a single father who works at a company he inherited from his parents, which is just (brucie voice) “so much less interesting than a test pilot!”
Bruce, grimacing internally but wrapped around Hal’s arm with the awed and interested eyes in full effect: “you have such a nice voice, tell me more about planes…”
He KNOWS what a fuselage is, thank you, Jordan. Whatever. He gets to gush about his kids, when its his turn to talk, good enough tradeoff. He can survive Hal Jordan’s bad pick up lines and pretend he’s into them. At a certain point Bruce breaks and kisses him just to shut him up. One down.
Diana Prince
I looked it up- kissing in Ancient Greece wasn’t always considered romantic, but also a greeting between two similarly-ranked people. Therefore, I think Diana would be pretty chill with kissing and honestly an easy target at a gala if Bruce plays respectful/clumsy/earnest himbo starstruck with the tall pretty woman, just a peck would make him the happiest man alive. But I wanna go a little more in depth.
Now, I’ve seen Flash and Martian Manhunter save Bruce and/or his kids and Bruce lays one on them, but honestly I think it would work well with Diana too, because she loves kids. Dick and/or Jason (whichever you want to imagine, I want them to team up screw canon) are WAY to excited for this, they’ve got a little script and everything.
WonderWoman, a kid in each arm, delivering them back to their tearful guardian: “Here we are, Mr. Wayne. Whole and healthy.”
Dick, playing into his role eagerly: “Oh my gosh, Bruce! Bruce we got saved by a princess! It’s like a fairytale! Except, you know, the princess is the hero this time, which is so freaking cool!”
Bruce, tears of gratitude rolling down his face (and he knows how to still look perfect while crying, its a skill): “I’m just glad the two of you are safe, Chum.”
Jason, big baby blues in full effect, absolutely asked Wonder Woman to be his mom earlier (to set groundwork, no other reason): “You know, usually the princess and the hero gets a kiss at the end of a fairytale, Bruce. But this princess is both. So how will she get a reward?”
Still choked up with relieved tears and now laughter, Bruce looks up at Diana and smiles: “Well, if the Princess wants a reward… then I would be a fool to refuse.”
Bruce kisses her on the lips, Dick and Jason both kiss her cheeks, Diana leaves charmed and amused by the sweet family. Such a good father, humoring his children and thier little fascination with her, so very respectful…
Two down.
J’ohn Jones
Okay, martians are telepathic. So this goes one of two ways, at some sort of charity or something-
Option 1, Batman is a realist: the charity event is a masquerade, and he wanders over to where MM is while thinking “it would be so funny, give me this.” As loudly as he can. And Martian Manhunter, who appreciates the audacity, gives him a kiss. (I don’t like this one because it technically breaks the rules of the bet, bc MM knows it’s Batman, but eh)
Option 2, Batman is a different breed: he manages to up the ante with his Himbo Persona. Creating a “slippery void” mental facade that blocks of his real thoughts and makes him read as really just that stupid. This would require functioning with two trains of thought at once, and making sure that the Martian can only read the surface level, “oh, this one is pretty” “I really wouldn’t mind kissing him” and other such decoy thoughts, instead of “target is approaching, signs of interest present despite this not being his natural form-“
Bruce also researches and copies Martian courting styles and copies them “by chance,” catching MM’s attention. (He offers him Oreos)
Martian Manhunter: “this man… he is so empty headed and yet clearly kind and willing. I would not take him for a life partner, but for some simple fun as he seems to desire…”
(Edit: Maybe, if B is confident enough, he lets through his loneliness. Missing his parents, wanting affection, an ache so strong it’s like a physical wound. J’onn feels the same ache for his lost family, and decides to try this human’s strategy to fill that void. Either way…)
Batman 3, League 0
Barry Allen
I’m strangely blank when it comes to the Flash let me just spitball and let it snowball
As I said above, people have had him save Bruce, had Bruce seduce him at his workplace while taking a tour, I even saw @help-i-need-a-cool-username have Dick set up a petition for Bruce to kiss the Flash. (An idea that I personally think would also go really well with Superman lmao.)
Anyways, I think it would be funny for Bruce to take it slow with Barry. For the irony of it all. Because Batman is doing this to prove a POINT. So he’s in central city, spots Barry coming his way, and “accidentally” slips right into his arms. Ooh, or covered in coffee, like a wealth disparity drama base script, and Barry’s like “omg i am so sorry let me pay you back.” And bruce is all “this shirt costs (stupid amount of money)”
Barry: (fear)
Bruce, rolling with it rn: “yes, it is horrendous, isn’t it? Hows this- I’m in central city for a day. You can pay me back by showing me around?”
He then proceeds to string barry along on an honest to god DATE for shits and giggles. They go clothes shopping, they go to restaurants, Bruce pays for a big meal bc this is after a fight or something and Barry got hurt, his speedster comrade needs to EAT, damnit.
After all this, he gives a cheeky smile and lightly smooches Barry. “Thanks for the fun day, Mr. Allen.”
Barry, bright red and goo brained: “hah- mmhmm. Yeah…”
Batman 4, League 0
Oliver Queen
This one… Oliver is on guard. He’s twitchy and suspicious, turning down men flirting with him, people are starting to notice. But Bruce? Bruce just walks up at a party while “tipsy” and lays one on him. Straight up. He wants to show just how EASY it is. Because Oliver doesn't even register it. He just laughs and goes: “Hey Brucie! Miss me?”
Batman 5, League 0
Dinah Lance
Of course, immediately after above, he turns and pouts at canary.
Bruce: “Dinah darling, you are a saint, I don’t know how you put up with the mess he’s got on his face. He was so much nicer to kiss when we were in (fancy private school name drop) together and didn’t have all this nonsense.”
Dinah, laughing at Ollie’s offended noises: “Oh, I don’t mind it. He’s a good kisser.”
Bruce: “Of course he is, I taught him. Care to compare?”
Dinah: “Don’t mind if I do.”
Batman 6, league 0
Clark Kent
For Clark, Bruce is originally talking to Lois before he turns his eyes on a quiet Clark and croons: “So, Miss Lane, does this lovely specimen have his own questions, or is he arm candy? And if he’s the latter, can I either tempt him off you, or secure an invitation?”
Lois, an excellent friend who will absolutely set Clark up with the hottest bachelor in Gotham: “Well, Mister Wayne, I’ve got all I need. Clark, take a page from my book and honeytrap a good quote out of him, hm?”
With an obnoxious wink, she pats a spluttering Clark on the shoulder, and leaves him with a very smug Batman.
(Bonus Superbat- Clark and Bruce’s conversation is going REALLY WELL and to the point where both of them seem on board with more than a heavy makeout when Bruce puts a hand on Clarks chest.
Bruce: “Stop.”
Clark, freezing immediately: “I’m sorry, did I go too far-?”
Bruce: “No, no. I think I might be though. See, I have all of you now, and I’ve won the bet.”
Clark: “What are you- oh. Oh- HUH?”
Cue sudden and shocked revelation, Clark’s mind going a hundred miles an hour, and then skidding to a stop on- he only did this for the bet. He’s not really interested. He stopped because I went too far-
Bruce: “You only consented to a kiss without knowing my identity. Right now, I’d like to do more, if you’d let me.”
Clark has the dial-up tone ringing in his ears, he has no idea whats going on anymore, the hot billionaire and his reclusive teammate aren’t quite slotting into place, because he wants both but rhey’re so different but they’re the same but-
“Yes.”
Lois doesn’t get Clark back that night and she is delighted.)
Anyways, final results:
Batman: 7
League: 0
Reveal:
Batman talking shit about their secret identities again, Green Lantern is scoffing about it again, says something along the lines of: “You still think you’re sooooo great, huh? Hows the bet going, spooky?” Fully expecting Batman to get huffy with him.
Instead, Batman smirks.
He leans in
And purrs: “So you didn’t notice?”
The League freezes. The implications are dangling over their head. Did he… did he really?
Green Lantern, absolutely terrified: “No. no, there’s no way…”
Batman: “Oh, there absolutely was a way. I’d say you were a good kisser, but honestly? I think it might have been the euphoria of getting you to shut up.”
He turns on the rest of the league, still smirking. “I have kissed every single person who consented at least once in the time since the bet was made. Two of you with tongue. And no one has called me out on it. Now that you know it’s happened, you should be able to figure me out, so whoever can tell me my real name first, wont get thier story used as an example in the brand new “how to avoid honeypots” seminar.”
(If bonus superbat, B shoots Superman a Look and goes “except for you, superman, because I told you my name.” Which just ends up distracting everyone else until they get THAT story)
Diana wins bc she matched up the boys to the robins. Everyone else gets their stories told in excruciating detail. Batman rates them by kissing ability and how obvious he was on his approach. Oliver gets docked points for “texture.” Dinah gets docked points because “i griped about the exact same thing in and out of costume, how did you not notice-“
(Different reveal below)
@chaos-n-kindness @she-went-that-way @geekonaleash @redh00dsbf @howabouticallyou
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chaotic-iguana · 1 year ago
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desperate | billy butcher x reader
a little something in spirit of kinktober and my delirium. lmk what you think. nsfw below the cut. mostly denial/teasing.
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“fuckin’ look at you, doll.” butcher flashes you a shit-eating grin before reaching up to pinch your nipples between his thumb and forefingers harshly, rumbling a chuckle at the whimper it draws from you. you’re all splayed out for him with your hands tied to headboard above, thighs wrenched open by his shoulders; skin hot and flushed under his touch. he’s told you to stay still twice already but you can’t, not when he’s been leaving featherlight brushes on your skin for hours and cruelly laughing at every sound that comes from your mouth, smiling at the way your hips buck in his hold- 
and then he’s leaning in just to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to your sternum, beard stinging against your sensitive skin, jaw working to nip and bite until your tears are falling and he’s pulling back with a mocking tut, eyes twinkling.
“all these pretty tears just f’me, love?” your frantic nod makes him raise a brow, hand coming down to swat the inside of your thigh - the impact shooting straight to your poor, neglected cunt. 
“use y’words, chatterbox.” 
his tone makes you want to curl in on yourself, because he knows you’re too far gone to form words right now, too far gone to think about anything beyond the fact that you need him and that you might actually die if he stops touching you. but you know butcher, and you know how mean he really is - he’ll keep you writhing on the bed for hours to fix your attitude if he doesn’t hear an answer now; uncaring of the fact that you’re barely grasping at thoughts and completely fucking gone. and like the devil, you  he starts rubbing circles into the juncture of your thighs while you struggle to answer him.
“y-yes, da-butcher. ‘m cr-crying for y-you.” he hums, and suddenly runs a knuckle through your folds, making you keen, tears sticking to your lashes. 
“yes, who?” bastard. he knows you can never bring yourself to say it - not even if it rests on the tip of your tongue every time - and despite yourself, you bite your tongue and shake your head, hiccuping. 
“oh we’re being shy now? fuck me, honey, where was this when i had my cock in your ass?” his hands rest just above where you need him now, thumbs stroking your abdomen in careful, downward brushes. your back arches into the touch, hips chasing him even when he pulls his hands away, and then you’re sobbing in earnest. 
another tut, dripping with condescension. “no more cryin’. tell me what you want, baby.” and you’re gasping another breath and gulping air, wrists straining against the rope before stammering out another response, too delirious with your need to register what you were saying. 
“need you to t-touch me, d-daddy, please.” he shuffles up, gripping your chin to turn it towards him before capturing your lips in his, his tongue sweeping into your mouth. his thumb presses gently on your buzzing clit, making you jolt with surprise. you blink at him, frowning. he’d never cave this quickly. 
until- he’s reaching down to plant a kiss to your forehead, smoothing over your hair before nuzzling against your cheek. 
“gotta give my pretty girl what she needs, don’t i? 
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masterlist
taglist: @bastardmandennis and @amanitacowboy (no one else would be into the boys i think) love u both @imherefordeanandbones
@cafekitsune’s divider.
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sweetnans · 6 months ago
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I set myself on fire to keep you warm.
Pairing: f. reader/Bakugo Katsuki.
tw: mention of break up, mention of violence but not described because bakugo isn't a bad boy, soft and persistent bakugo. SMUT +18 minors don't interact. (Soft sex)
a/c: the end of this trilogy, I hope you liked it 💕
Part 1
Part 2
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After the party, you didn't see him for a while. At least two weeks. A group of villains attacked his quadrant for a week straight unfolding in pairs each day. Even Shoto, your new partner, had to change teams and do a backup job.
The truth was that you were dying to know about him, and that felt wrong.
Friday came quickly, and so your day off. You were parking outside of your house, bringing the grocery bag with you and some little things you found that could work with your new home decoration. You even bought flowers for your new vessel.
Quickly, you turned the tv on, not expecting to see Bakugo in action, defeating a giant villain on the screen. The scenery was already controlled by the pros, Deku, Chargerbolt, and Cellophane were there, working as a team.
You changed the channel looking for a reality show, something that didn't remind you of your ex and everything that occupied your mind since the last time you saw him, like calling him, for example.
Silly girl knows better, right? But, what if he was hurt?
You shook your head and poured a glass of wine in a cup. That glass of wine turned in two, and when you noticed what was happening the bottle was already empty.
You scrolled through your socials, the guys were headline in almost every page, even the group chat of endeavor agency made a special shout out to them, filling your phone with photos of him in high definition.
You: I think I'm going to do something I might regret.
You waited for the response from Mina but nothing happened. You could blame her later for what was about to happen.
His contact was opened on your screen, the green button functioning as a magnet to your fingers. What was the harm in calling him? You could just ask about the fight, professionally purpose only, to gather techniques. After all, you were a little rusty in battle combat.
You were just making excuses not to feel like a shitty person. You needed to get your head clear but right now you were about to cry. Damn, you missed the bastard.
That was the hint you needed to press the button.
It ringed, one, two, three times.
"Hello?" He asked, agitated.
You felt nostalgic. After every big fight, he liked to steam some stamina off. To cool it down, like he used to say.
"If this a fucking prank you'll hear from me, I'll blast your shitty ass to-
"Hey," your voice sounded light.
You could hear how he dropped the weight he was lifting.
"Is that you?" He murmured, not believing. Maybe it was a prank from one of his friends. No, they would never do that to him. They feared him enough.
"Mmhm," you nodded even if he couldn't see you.
Silence flowed in the line. It was awkward, but not in the bad way. It was awkward for Bakugo, at least, because he never expected to be you when to phone rang. He knew that he had to be the one trying, but right now, after the party, after the fight, he was just taking his time to think about his next step.
"Are you drunk?" He asked straightforwardly.
"What? No!" You tried to defend yourself, but the uncommon pitch in your tone gave you away.
"You sound like it." You could feel his smug smile appearing on his face.
"I'm not gonna lie. I had this bottle of wine, and it just poofed itself out of existence, " you sighed. You were tipsy, but you knew exactly what you were doing.
He barked a laugh. A real one. The kind of laugh that made you feel it inside your bones. The kind of laugh that you missed for an entire year.
"It seems to me that you just chugged the bottle all by yourself." The tone in his voice was playful and his mind started to get those memories where you used to call him everytime you went out with your friends, finding a way to leave your friends alone and sneak to the bathroom or some place quiet just to hear his voice and tell him to pick you up earlier.
"How do you know that I'm by myself?"
The question made him shake his head.
"If you were with Mina or with somebody else, you wouldn't have called." He was probably right, you thought to yourself, Mina would've melted your phone down with acid before you even thought of calling your ex.
He liked the way that conversation flowed. With you, the talking about everything, the expressing, the feeling, everything was so easy for him. He felt nostalgic and eager to win you back. He needed this in his life, and he needed you.
"For the record, I warned Mina that I was going to do something stupid"
"Do you think this is stupid?" He pried for your answer. The moments you were taking to answer something so simple got him on the edge of the gym bench. "No bullshit, okay? Because I don't think this is stupid at all"
You closed your eyes for an instant, trying to think aside from the alcohol boost. You needed to get your mind clear because you had this idea in your mind, but once the idea left your mind, it was over for you and for him. In a good way.
"Why don't you pick up your stuff and come home already?"
...
To say that it took him ten minutes to arrive at your house is just an exaggeration. He made it in seven when most people took at least twenty. You were waiting for him in the front porch, the same porch that he paced over and over the first time he saw you in a year. You were standing there, with your arms crossed in front of your chest because the night was cold, but, you wanted to be there to see him, to wait for him, and to feel the excitement that was seeing him after a long day or in this case, week.
He saw your figure from his car. The tinted glass did him a favor. He was sweating. He couldn't stop rubbing his hands in his pants to ease the feeling of wetness and couldn't stop looking at you while doing it. Bakugo realized that he was taking much time regulating himself so he turned off the car and breathed three times to try to calm his heartbeat. It didn't work. He never had been that pented up about something, not an interview, not even a fight, but now his heart was about to explode.
You waved your hand at the sight of him. He didn't reciprocated but instead, he stomped to your front yard, opening the small gate that led to your garden. He climbed one step and the other so his face would be at the same level from your face.
"Hi," you said again, smiling fondly. God, you've missed him.
"Hey princess," he used the same petname that he has called you since he met you.
"Do you want to come in? Or should I go for myself so you can stay and find my spare key and use it? " You asked jokingly. He rolled his eyes but smiled a bit. "I swear that it's in a better spot, I hid it so well this time, you'll never going to find it"
"I bet you bought those fake ass rocks online and put it underneath it"
He knew you like the palm of his hand. You looked shocked, but he was just smug about it. Bakugo found it cute how you could be so naive with your antics and how he could easily read you even in the most idiotic things.
"Fuck, it's always so hard with you. Not my fault that you have such a big brain. " You flicked his forehead, and he was quickly to take your hand in his.
"Not my fault you don't even try"
That was sort of a deja vù. You used to fight on and on when you were in UA. Aizawa sensei loved putting you and him in spare combat that mostly ended up in the both of you yelling at each other. That line was one that you two used the most when he got you pinned down to the floor mat.
You laced your fingers with his fingers and led him inside your house. The TV was on, replaying one of your favorite episodes from your comfort series. He could recite the complete episode without missing a word because he was there every time you put it on his tv.
"You are watching this crap again?" He said mockingly.
"It's a classic, and I needed to do all the things I usually do when I have a bad idea in mind in order to keep it out, but right now, the bad idea is standing right in front of me" you stuck your tongue out and he pinched your nose a little giving you a peak of his soft side.
The vibe was thrilling. It felt like static vibrating his and your heart. You could feel his presence in your skin, aching for his touch, and he could feel your delicacy and love, always wearing your heart upon your sleeve.
"I'm going to make you some food so you can worn the booze off," he walked like he owned the place and moved around your kitchen gracefully, knowing exactly where you placed all the pots and ingredients.
The mere fact that he was there, like old times, made you feel butterflies in your stomach. The domestic treat of him taking care of you never got old in your senses. You had your moment, running away after the argument and the bad mental time that you were having because of lack of reasoning, then you completely ghosted him, trying to put in the past six years like he was nothing. And there he was, acting like nothing ever happened.
"These are very rare. Where did you get them?" He asked, lifting one of the ingredients and taking you out of your dissociation.
"Mhm, I don't remember," you told him, sparing a glance to the object. You walked towards him until you were by his side.
"What?" He said, contemplating your gaze.
You softened your face, and tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. Alcohol made you emotional.
"I'm so sorry," you told him.
His body was stiff, like a rock, but his emotions were blossoming in his face. He turned off the stove and passed his right arm behind your neck, pulling you to his broad chest. He took the chance that you weren't seeing him to give himaself out, exposing every feeling and every thought he had been running in his mind for the past year.
"I'm sorry too, baby," he murmured in your head. "I was supposed to be by your side, and I failed, I was a bad excuse of a boyfriend"
"I should've never abandoned you," you cried.
"I wasn't the one you deserved," he explained. "Right now, I know I am, fuck, I would even set myself on fire to keep you warm, to keep you by my side, to make you happy"
Your tears stained his shirt, leaving marks all over his pecs. He placed gentle kisses in your hair, soothing every regret and remorse out of your system.
You pulled yourself out of his embrace to look at him in the eyes.
"I never stopped loving you," you whispered.
He looked at you like you were his dreams come true. His eyes were glossy, wandering every inch of your face, looking for maybe a mistake, for you backing out of what you just said, but he didn't find a trace of guilt. You were genuine.
He couldn't keep it anymore.
His lips graced yours carefully, waiting for you to flinch or for a reaction so he could stop, but once again, you were eager too, you wanted him in every possible way.
Your lips smashed together, tearing apart all your armors. His lips graced yours, and his tongue made his way to your lips, tracing patterns until you opened for free access. He was desperate to taste you. You grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulled him closely, and then moved your hand to his neck, tugging the baby hairs of the nape of his neck.
"I like your new hairstyle" you mentioned in between sloppy kisses.
"Yeah?" He asked lost in you.
"It's different, shorter in the sides, you look pretty hot," you giggled when his smug smile crashed in your lips. "Don't let that compliment get over your head please"
"Oh, it's already there," he said, grabbing your thighs with one hand and tapping your lower back for you to jump.
You jumped, and he catched you without any effort, putting you on the kitchen table. Even with that boost of inches, you were just the same height as him, looking him straight in the eyes. His mouth was swollen and red, and your lipstick smuged in his lips. Before you could wipe it off, his lips found your neck, and he started kissing and nipping.
"Oh my, Katsuki," you moaned, he grunted at the sense that you were not able to control yourself anymore.
"Damn baby, I don't how I lived without you like this"
You locked your legs on his lower back, leaving him against your core, making you feel the heartbeat of your two members pulsing against each other.
His dick was already twitching in his pants and you were wet just for a few kisses. The time apart made its job. You weren't sure if you could take much time without feeling him completely inside of you.
"Baby" you panted. "I need you, like right now"
He always liked you when you mouthed your desires. It wasn't so common of you, so when it happened, it pented him up even more.
Beneath all the anger and sadness that he felt because of you leaving him, it was this Katsuki, the one who was like a kid with you, the one that could forgive you for everything you do knowing that you wouldn't do anything to hurt him. If you were right here with him, that was enough for him to put all his trust with you again.
You wouldn't leave him either.
Katsuki could feel you writhing against his body. After your plead, he detached his lips out of your neck and moved his hands to undone his pants first, taking all the breath of your lungs because the sight of his cock.
"Shit," you murmured to yourself, but his side smile made you notice that he heard that too.
Without any words, he grabbed your waist to pull you more to the edge of the kitchen table, positioning you to make you two more comfortable. After that, he decided that it was better for the two of you to take you on the kitchen stool, so he grabbed your ass and, without even thinking of it, nor even warning you, he took you and left you sitting in front of him.
"Are you sure?" His voice low ringed in your ears. You didn't want anyone but him. You nodded, allowing him to take off your pajamas shorts. "Open your legs," he demanded, and you obeyed.
In mere seconds, you were exposed to him. Glistening eyes wandered your body like it was sculptured by gods.
God damned him if he loses you again.
Putting his forehead against yours, he aligned himself in your entrance. He showered your nose with little pecks, trying to dissipate the growing but pleasant pain inside you.
"Fuck" you moaned against his lips and he swallowed all your pants like it was an elixir.
"You feel so good, baby," he muttered, buckling his hips into you.
He made it slow at first, but then, you could feel his balls slapping, putting the perfect amount of friction that you needed to be close to cloud nine. You were aching for him, following his pace to make it more delectable. He bit your shoulder to release some stamina and last a little longer, but he couldn't fool no one. His balls were tightened, trying to suppress the instinct to free his load inside you.
"I wont last long" he assured. "It's been a year"
His faint breath against your shoulder made you shiver.
"What? You didn't-"
"No. I tried, " He answered before you could even ask.
"Did you?"
You were curious. You couldn't blame yourself for wanting to know what did Katsuki in your year outside.
"I mean, I tried to date but never made it to the date part. Deku tried to set me up once, but I never showed"
That was kinda sad for the other person, waiting for him and getting nothing but an empty seat.
"I went out a few times, but I always ended up talking about you" you added in between pumps. "Even from a distance you cockblocked me"
He grunted low, almost devilish, like it was everything he ever wanted.
"That's what I needed to hear, that this little pussy is just f'me" he said in the shell of your ear giving you full of his length, filling you nicely and touching with the head of his dick your g-spot repeatedly.
"Shit, fuck, Katsuki-" you were out of breath. He was riding you nice and slowly. "Keep going, keep going, shit"
"Fucking, fuck god"
His seeds sprouted inside yourself, painting your walls with white stripes. Your core squeezing his cock in a way that got him almost gripping to the kitchen table.
You couldn't keep your thoughts in your mind while your orgasm crashed with his together in an instant. He grabbed you by the hair, pulling it back to leave you exposed to him. Panting against your neck, he closed the distance, giving you little kisses in your throat while caressing your thighs with his other hand, your legs trembling on each side of his body.
"A year is too much," you said, touching the locks oh his hair. He let go of your hair just to look at your eyes. You looked exactly how you looked when he fucked your brains out.
"From now on, you're not leaving my side if you want to go and find yourself, we'll find you together"
He was dead serious, but the look on his face made you extremely happy so you couldn't hide your smile.
"I don't need to find me anymore, I know exactly who I am and what I want," you said, trying to give him all sense of security back. He never doubted your words.
That night was his dream came true. You, half naked, against his chest in his big ass bed that he once thought it was too big for him alone, your legs intertwined with his, soft pants leaving your lips. You wouldn't go anywhere.
He knew that, eventually, you would be like this with him. He knew that he needed to be better for him and for you first. He knew that time would patch everything up and make you come back. He knew that this time, he would do everything in his hands to make you happy.
What he didn't know is that you were counting the days to make your way back to him.
He was absorbed in his thoughts while you sleep soundly in his arms. Thinking about the future, to be better, thinking about the past, to not making the same mistakes. He couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life with you, and also, he couldn't wait to rub the news to Deku and to make him feel like a loser for setting him up with a poor girl who never stood a single chance.
Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.
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echoofadream · 4 months ago
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"th-that b-bastard Gojo ahh~ f-fuck~"
"What did he do this time baby?"
You had Utahime seated on your lap, two fingers knuckles deep inside her pussy. One arm was wrapped around your neck for support, her face so close to your ear, soft whimpers going straight to your crotch as she was telling you about her day.
"Ngh- h-higher up... meeting f-fuckk Gojo there he-...ahh~ said I'm weak"
You chuckled and started stroking her hair with your free hand, the other one's fingers busy pressing against her g spot. "Baby, everyone's weak compared to him in terms of power. You shouldn't mind what he says"
"B-but" she protested "he said...he said...oh fuck oh my god~~" her walls clenched around your fingers the moment you picked up your pace. You held her trembling legs in place, feeling her forehead press against your shoulder.
"What did he say hm?" you asked again, knowing she was feeling too good to remember.
"Ahh~ h-ahh~~ ngh- said others better...tha-ahh~ than me..."
"Yeah? You think other people can take me like you do?" Your hand left her thigh and slid underneath her shirt, making its way to one of her hardened nipples and giving it a harsh squeeze.
Poor girl was being so loud you could swear she started crying. The way her thin shirt was glued to her skin, thick drops of sweat covering her upper body while her slick was dripping down her legs with every thrust of your fingers inside her abused but still needy hole was hypnotizing. It took all the self control you could gather not to push her off and pin her down on the bed and fuck her senselessly.
"Mm~ gon-ah cum..." Utahime whimpered, her sore pussy desperate for the release only you could give her. With your other hand you pinched her clit, the pain mixing with the pleasure, forcing her to struggle to orgasm because of the lack of friction her clit was under. But for you, oh for you she could do anything.
"Pl-please ahh~ fuckk....fuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK!" You felt her soft gummy walls squeeze your fingers as her high washed over her, pleasure readible on her face and the way all the muscles in her body contracted under your skilled touch.
Panting heavily, Utahime's limp body collapsed in your warm embrace as fatigue was taking over her.
"Feeling better sweet girl?" you asked, stroking her back. She could only nod at your question, wrapping her arms around you and getting comfortable. You chuckled, knowing that she wanted to be carried to your cozy bed where she'd sleep safely, surrounded by your presence.
I've been thinking about her too much lately and why the hell doesn't her character have more development??
Anyway I hope y'all liked it❤️
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dcxdpdabbles · 9 months ago
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ok but imagine
batman with gun tim time travels to the past but instead of trying to seduce baby tim to the dark side he,,, ignores him
after all baby tim is young and pragmatic he'll realize that company policy is ineffective and kill people gets shit done
no bwg!tim has more important things to handle
like killing the ppl who murder his boo danny
and he knows exactly who to target
bonus points if tim and danny aren't dating yet
extra bonus points if they haven't even met yet
The plan was simple really. Time travel and start the correct way to handle criminals early. Take out the people that had taken from him the only person he really loved.
His past self was still running around trying to talk the Bats down from murderous rage, and while that itched, it was a lesson he needed to learn in order to finally wake up and properly get things done.
Tim saw no reason to track him down. He's stubborn as a mule, he can admit that, and his past self heartily believes that the crazy bastards should be locked away instead of put down. It would be ages before he could get close to getting him to listen to what Tim had to say.
Time, ironically, is not something he has to waste. The machine that brought him back had preset departer times. If he missed it then Gotham in ten years would be without it's Batman.
The carefuly iron control he has over the city would be questioned, and some fools would try to make a power grab in the sudden vaccum Batman had left behind.
So while it would take years for his past self to come to his senses, it would happen on its own, and Tim was alright with waiting for it. What he wouldn't allow to repeat itself was the death of his lover.
His plan involved killing the people that killed Danny. What Tim forgot in his grief was that those very people were the ones to raise Danny.
Yes, Jack and Maddie Fenton had killed their son in an accident. The ray gun that they designed had been faulty and had exploded in wide outburst instead of shooting straight.
It was meant to paralyze the ghost for capture.
Instead, it attacked ghost cores in horrific, fast-acting disintegration. Tim remembers the blast washing over him, the green ripples doing nothing to him as a human, and for a brief second thinking it funny that their gun was just a fancy light show, only to hear Jack Fenton's cry of celebration.
Then Danny's scream of agony.
His skin had been falling off, and Tim had been rooted to the spot watching his boyfriend, his lover, his entire moral compass melt before his eyes.
He had watched Maddie's smug face break into hysterical grief when Danny's ghost form vanished, and the sluggish body that fell to the floor with a splat had been her son. The two scientists had reached Danny first, and the fools had begged him to hold on.
As if they were not the ones to have done this, indirectly or not.
Danny's last words had been "I forgive you. I love you"
and then he was gone. In seconds his Danny was lost. He had died painfully, unfairly, and all because his parents had believed in their bigotry so purely they never saw reason to change their minds, even when there were signs their son was part of the group they loath so much.
The Fentons hadn't even been charged with Danny's death. It was deemed an accident; the worst they had to do was pay a fine for their blast, knocking out the power. All because ghosts were not protected under meta laws, and Danny was no longer recognized as human.
Tim hated them more than any villain in the world, hated that they lived well, Danny did not.
His own comfort was that they couldn't live with themselves either. Jack Fenton had taken his life the night after the funeral Jassmin had planned for Danny. Maddie Fenton had lost her mind, speaking to the air as though her husband and son were still there, and was moved to an asylum by a grief-stricken daughter.
There she died of a broken heart.
Tim took care of Jazz, he felt that Danny would have wanted him to, but she was never the same again. She was one of the first to agreed with him that Batman had to stop people before they went too far.
That thinking "they'll come around" was no longer an option. She made him the bullets for the gun that killed Bruce's parents, and she was the one that watched that same gun put down the Joker.
It was the first time she smiled in years.
All that hurt because of these fools.
Tim wasn't going to let them hurt anyone anymore. He aims his gun at the shaking forms of Jack and Maddie Fenton, their pathetic attempt to fight him off, were nothing comparied to his training.
He had them on their knees, bound to hold still, and with one push of his finger, the toxic outlook on ghosts would die with them.
But foolish-loving Danny wasn't about to let him put them in the ground where they belonged. The boy had thrown himself in front of them with a cry, throwing up a shield seconds before the bullets found their mark.
The Fenton couple gasped while Danny turned to them with clear worry. "Are you alright?"
Tim felt as if though he was kicked in the chest, seeing the boy- for he was a boy. How had he forgotten that his love died so young? Now with all the years under Tim's belt, did he truly see how pre-maturely Danny had died.
He was as beautiful as the day Tim lost him, but he was far too pure and innocent now. Tim's killing was a necessary that ruined him, while Danny remained kind and forgiving till the end.
He can't stop the rush of air that threathens to burn tears into his eyes escape him. Thankfully his training kicks in and Batman is able to shut everything that was Tim in his mind.
All that remain was the mission within human shape.
Danny growls, voice as cold as his ice core "Who are you?!"
"I'm Batman"
"Liar!" The boy hisses, thin pieces of frost growing around his green shield. "Batman doesn't kill!"
Tim scoffs, "Killing is the only way to stop more death."
Danny doesn't respond. He merely shoots a blast at him, momentarily dropping his shield, and Batman rolls away. He will overwhelm the boy and get him out of the way.
Then, he will do what he came to accomplish. Danny must know that, for he sees the moment, he shuts away his own human part and melts into Phantom.
The young ghost who took on a King for his people and became the hero that supported Red Robin above all else.
Phantom leaps at him, and Batman meets him halfway, each wearing emotionless expressions that promise a fight to the bitter end.
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sinfulpanda16 · 3 months ago
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1 Year Death Anniversary
Bakugou Katsuki, Izuku Midoriya, Shoto Todoroki, Eijiro Kirishima, x reader
Your husband lost you one year ago. How does he treat this day? Can he still think about you without crying? How does he mourn your death?
💔Bakugou Katsuki
He comes home after a long day of fighting villains. He goes straight to bed in his hero costume. He sighs softly. He has to admit, he did so good at work today. He gave those villains a good beating and put them in their place real fast. That might have all been because of you.
His beautiful baby. With the prettiest smile and the most beautiful face he's ever seen.
His anger, grief, and loneliness from losing you are what drove him today. Bakugou can't help but smirk, "Even now you still manage to rile me up," he said hoping you would hear him from wherever you are.
The day you died and had your funeral, Bakugou came home and decided to pack all of your stuff in a storage unit. He just couldn't see any of it without feeling awful. It would just remind him of the fact that fact he failed to protect you. But now, one year later, he gathers up the courage to get up and head back to the storage unit.
He walks, still in his hero costume, to you late at night. He makes it there and takes out his key. He opens the door and is met with boxes. His heart begins to pound fast, but he tells himself that it's fine. Nervously, he opens the first box in front of him and finds the stuffed animals he's gifted you.
The big one he won for you at the festival just a few months before you passed away. The one he gifted you when he was pleading for your forgiveness for doing something stupid. Bakugou smiles softly upon remembering that day. The one he gifted you for Valentine's Day one year, and the one he gifted you way back in his U.A years. The one he gifted you for that Secret Santa Class 1-A did.
Bakugou hadn't even noticed a tear started running down his cheek. He wipes it away quickly, "Damm it." he says in a broken voice.
For this reason, he avoided coming here. He couldn't even get through the first box without crying. He looks at the small plushie in his hand, the nostalgia of his U.A years hit hard. He still remembers the look you gave him when you opened his present. It was full of gratitude and blushy.
He misses you. He wants you back.
He lets a few tears fall for you. You had always told him "It's ok sweetie, you can cry. Bottling up your emotions isn't healthy. And it doesn't look good either." Bakugou let out a soft chuckle, wiped his tears and sniffed a little. "I know baby. It doesn't" he says softly.
He looks back at the plushie and puts it away in its box.
He leaves the storage unit and heads back home. Missing you so much.
💔Izuku Midoriya
Izuku wakes up early and sits up in bed. He tries to wake himself up and then he realizes what today is. The day you died on the field and left your husband. It hurt like hell, however, Midoriya has learned to be spiritual and hopeful, so he turns to his bedside where your picture is. He smiled softly and whispered, "Morning sweetheart". He reaches for the frame and looks at you. "I'll visit you soon. ok, sweetie?" he says softly looking at your beautiful features.
He admires you for a bit then puts your picture back on the nightstand and gets up to get ready for his hero work.
Being the number one hero, he barely has time for himself. He's constantly out saving lives and keeping the citizens safe. You were by him through it all until a year ago. Now that you're gone, Izuku always takes the time to visit your grave whenever he can. Today he planned on perhaps leaving his office earlier to visit you.
However, he caught himself fighting a villain and the bastard was not backing out. He's disrupting the city, and everyone is in a panic. Deku puts up a good fight along with Dynamight and Shoto. With their quirks, they manage to put an end to the villain's plan.
When the citizens realized they were saved they cheered for the top three heroes. Deku was surrounded by claps, cheering, and praises and he couldn't help but smile at the people.
Deku smiles brightly and subconsciously reaches out to wrap his arm around his shoulder.
But you weren't there.
Deku realized and turned to his side to see no one. His beautiful love who would help fight villains by his side, protect the city, and wave back at the crowd with a big smile on her precious face in a moment like this wasn't there.
Midoriya would always wrap his arm around you after winning a huge battle and be strong for your people. And he realized he will never be able to do that again.
Deku started shedding a few tears and Bakugou and Todoroki watched him. They knew exactly what was wrong and they too started feeling grief.
It sucked so hard. Deku only kept shedding tears as the crowd continued to cheer for him. He gave the crowd one last big smile before leaving the scene with his quirk to visit you.
He made it to your grave and immediately got on his knees to hug your tombstone letting the tears fall. Losing a loved one isn't easy and Izuku realized that it never gets easier.
💔Shoto Todoroki
Shoto did not take your death well. Before you, he was so lost. With his family, with his friends, with his dreams, with life.
But then he met you. The most beautiful, powerful, and kindest person he's ever met. You helped him find HIS purpose. You were his knight in shining armor and so Shoto worked hard for himself and for you. You two were so happy and had so much love for each other.
You two promised to stay by each other's side.
But you broke your promise.
When they handed him the necklace he gave you he knew his world had come to an end.
He left far away to let out his anger. He burnt everything that was at his reach and stood there surrounded by the flames. His tears were falling nonstop from all the pain he was feeling.
After the funeral, still in his suit, he sat alone at home looking up at the ceiling. The tears hadn't stopped falling and he got to a point where he wasn't going to try to stop them. There was a knock on his door, Shoto stood up and wiped his tears. It was the number one hero, Deku.
"Hey Shoto. I came to check on you." He greets softly, noticing his tear-stained face.
Todoroki looks down and sighs, "I don't know what I'm going to do Midoriya. I tell myself it's just a sick nightmare, but I don't wake up from it." he says with a frustrated voice on the last part and grips his hair.
Midoriya quickly reaches to calm him down, "Shoto please it's going to be ok" he soothes him. "(Y/N) still loves you"
At that Shoto realizes that he's right. The memory of you saying "I will always love you Shoto" came to his mind and he wiped his tears.
He pulls away from Deku, "Thank you Midoriya" he looks in his eyes and smiles softly at him. "I needed to hear that." They smile softly and say their goodbyes.
Shoto pulls out your necklace from his pocket and stares at it for a bit. He then wraps the necklace around his right wrist and one year later he still keeps your necklace around his wrist.
He keeps a small room in his mansion to keep your memory. He goes in to pray for you like every night and smiles when he sees your picture.
You're not gone, you're still with him. In your pictures, in his memories and in your necklace he keeps with him. And he still loves you very much. He still yearns to make you proud and somehow, he knows you are.
💔Eijiro Kirishima
Kirishima continues to love you so much. He realized that your death wasn't something he should cry over so much. He's pretty sure you're happier, healthier, and safer wherever you are, and he loves that. He knows you're watching over him. He was heartbroken over your death and did go through the stages of grief but that helped him come out of it stronger.
So, when he woke up on the day of your death, he felt more motivated than ever to help others from losing their loved ones. That's what he did. Red Riot truly is an amazing hero.
At his meet and greet today, he stepped up on the podium to give a speech and honored you:
"Hello everyone, I'm so excited to meet you all and I know (Y/H/N) would've been happy to meet all of you too. By now I'm sure you know my beautiful, smart, funny, and strong partner in crime died fighting for us one year ago today."
he pauses and the fans nod, some of them even getting emotional too. Red Riot clears his throat:
"(Y/H/N) was the first person in my life who was taken from me. It hurt so much. Which is why I will fight my hardest for you guys. To make sure none of you grow through what I'm going through any time soon!"
he preaches and the fans start cheering for him.
He signed autographs and shirts and made sure his fans knew how much they meant to him and you. Some of the fans even brought flowers in honor of you and Kirishima gladly took them.
That evening when he was done for the day, he decided to visit your grave. He bought some snacks for himself and took the flowers the fans had gifted you.
Upon arriving, he smiled softly looking at your name on your tombstone. "Hey baby" he said softly. He placed the flowers down "These are from our fans sweetheart. I hope you like them." then he sat down by your side.
He begins to eat his snacks and talks quietly to you. He tells you about how the meet and greet went and how he still misses you so much.
A few tears fall but he's ok.
A soft breeze hits his skin, and he smiles softly enjoying it, knowing it's you.
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ohtobeleah · 2 months ago
Text
Secret Sacrifices // Jake Seresin
Chapter Four: [Like Father, Like Daughter]
Summary: You receive news from your case worker about a family member, its sends you into a spiral. Bob is awol from the Hard Deck and Jake is constantly up to his old tricks.
Warnings: Death, mentions of witness protection. Jake Seresin x F!reader
Word Count: 3k
Author Note: Been trucking along at this series. Really trying to spend a little time each day writing a few paragraphs for some projects. And I really do LOVE these two.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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Throughout history, there has always been a superstition that expands across many belief systems. Mirrors can be seen as a portal to another dimension; the reflection staring back at you is another version of yourself. Another version of you from another timeline or realm. 
If that were true, you’d give anything to trade places with the reflection staring back at you as you caught a glimpse of yourself in the small hallway mirror that hung for aesthetics. 
“What do you mean?” Your voice shook with confusion, this couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening. “Roger, what the fuck do you mean my dad died?” 
Roger Spague was your case agent. He had been assigned your case right after the funerals of your husband and son. Soon after everything occurred, you were encouraged to enter witness protection to safeguard your testimony. As the only witness who could help bring the men who murdered your family and organised a multilevel drug syndicate to justice, your word was more valuable than gold itself. 
“We couldn’t tell you,” Roger has always been a rather hard nut to crack. He took no bullshit and smiled very rarely. He saw the world for black and white more than he ever did grey. Morals were good or bad, nothing could be in between. “He, unfortunately, passed away a month ago, we’ve been informed of the burial site, Hollow Hills. However, we really advise against you visiting anytime soon,” Rogers’s monotone voice echoed in your head as you struggled to hold your composure. 
“Why? Why would I not run out this door right now to visit my father’s fucking grave you asshole!” You hissed into the phone. Surely this was all some sick joke or a nightmare that never ended. You couldn’t think straight, couldn’t breathe properly. You were almost certain your heart was breaking apart yet again. The shattering pieces would surely slice into your arteries, causing you the bleed out and be at peace with the pain you’d carried for over three years. 
“Because they could be monitoring the site, do you really want to risk everything you’ve worked so hard to protect?” Roger reminded you through the phone. At this stage, you were sure that all the tears you’d cried over the years had permanently stained your cheeks. Maybe one day you’d wake up with no more tears left to cry. 
“Roger–” You sobbed as you made your way into your bedroom. You slumped onto the side and crumpled in on yourself. The only support system keeping you up was your elbows digging into your knees “I can’t do this anymore.” 
“You don’t have a choice to quit this,” Roger, with his little sympathise and tunnel vision, reminded you. “You don’t get to leave this until those bastards are behind bars, and we’ve put too much work into this to have you throw it all away now.” 
“But he’s my dad,” You never got to say goodbye. You never got to tell him how much you loved him, how much you still and always will. You never got to hold your mother or comfort your sister. Everything you’d missed, everything you’d sacrificed was starting to outway the idea, the pipe dream of justice. You were, at the very basic explanation, tired of this life. “I need to visit his grave.” 
“Not until we know for certain that there isn’t anyone monitoring his grave just waiting for you to show up.” The reality was hard to accept, you didn’t want to accept it. But the fact of the matter was, that you have just lost another member of your family, and there was absolutely nothing you could do to help yourself forgive that loss. 
“Fuck you,” You spat as tears spilled over your lower lash line. “Fuck you and fuck all of this do you hear me?” 
“No skin off my nose there, just remember why you’re doing this, who you’re doing this for, Y/n.” Just hearing your real name, and hearing those syllables leave someone’s mouth made you feel real. That you were still a real person with real emotions and valid feelings. “Remember what’s a stake here, they get the chance to kill you now? Then what’s all this been for?” 
“I hate you–” Was all you were able to get out before you broke down completely, deciding that the floor was the best place to be. You hung up the phone and made sure to throw it as far away as you possibly could. 
The carpet soaked up as many tears as possible before you fell asleep crying, sobbing until your eyes could no longer remain open and a steady rhythm took over in your chest. Sleep….it never came easy, but you needed it. 
By the time you slowly opened your eyes again, the sun had risen higher in the sky and the ice cream you’d brought in your weekly shop was melted into a puddle of liquid. You knew as you slowly peeled yourself off the carpet that you had to get yourself together before you lost the plot. So you trailed out into the hallway and made your way back to the kitchen to put away your groceries. The bags still sat where you and Jake had left them on the island bench. 
“You’re okay,” It was two simple words, but the lies that read between the lines were big enough to make them seem like a whole novel of untruthful affirmations. “You’re okay,” Again you repeated the same two words as you unpacked your groceries. “You’re okay.” Hoping that if you said them enough……
You’d hopefully start to believe them. 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
Cutting lemons was one of those mundane tasks you actually enjoyed. It gave you something to do while zoning out. You’d only been at work for roughly an hour before the patrons started to pile in after work. Naval men and women from all walks of life all heading to the local watering hole. It wasn't too long after you started on your fourth lemon that Jake made his appearance in your peripheral vision. There was no doubt that his proximity to you was the cause behind your palpitations. 
Jake stood on the other side of the bar, smiling his signature shit-eating grin at you while he watched your knife skills. 
“What's a guy gotta do to get you to handle him like that lemon?” Trust Jake to lead with the unorthodox hello. When you looked up and met your gaze, you knew you were in deep water. The smile that smeared itself across your face was as genuine as it could ever be. 
“I didn’t know you were into knife play Seresin?” You saw the way Jake's eyes slightly widened with promiscuous enlightenment at your reply. “You just after the usual?” You asked as you placed the knife you’d been using into the sink. 
“Yes ma’am, and to see the pretty barkeep,” Jake replied as he sat down on one of the empty barstools. He looked far too handsome in his flight suit, but you’d never tell him that. His ego was already inflated enough. 
“Penny! Hangman here to see you!” You called out as you washed your hands from all the lemon juice. Jake wouldn’t deny it if you asked that his eyes had dropped from looking at your hair to your ass as you turned around briefly to dry them on the rag that sat nearby. 
“I was talking about you–” He smiled as you turned back around to face him. His elbows were resting against the top of the bar, casually, like he was truly at home. 
“Bet you say that to all the ladies–”  You added as you picked up a glass, going about making Jake his usual order. 
“Nope, just you.” It was quiet, a little more serious with an underlying sense of admiration. Jake meant it, he thought you were gorgeous. From the moment he first met you, he saw all the beauty and grace that seamlessly radiated from your aura. “I think you’re beautiful, Brewer.” 
Jake's complement knocked the wind from your lungs as you held the glass at an angle and watched the amber liquid pool at the bottom. Slowly but surely filling the glass to the top with a perfect head of froth. 
“What did I tell you about flattery?” You sighed as you placed the beer down in front of the aviator who was slowly capturing your whole heart in the palm of his hands. Completely unaware that he was falling in love with a complete stranger. 
“That it won’t get me anywhere–” Jake grinned, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. “But if I remember correctly, it did.” The sensation of having Jake’s lips pressed against yours came flooding back as the heat in your cheeks rose. “Let me take you out to dinner?” 
“Jake,” You had to sigh. “Not this again?” Playing a little hard to get wouldn’t hurt the man, would it? 
“Or come over to mine then?” Jake proposed with a cheeky Serein grin you assumed he got from his mother. 
“Oh yeah?” You chuckled as you let your hands rest on your bar, leaning in a little closer to Jake. “So I can contract whatever deceases you’re harbouring in that petri dish of a bachelor pad?” Jake pretended to be wounded as he placed a hand over his chest at your remark. You shook your head as you let out a small laugh. “I don’t think so, Seresin, but I’ll give you points for trying.” 
Jake sat there momentarily, just drinking in the sight of the woman who had slowly become his favourite person to be around. This was his favourite part of the entire day. Getting to come to the Hard Deck, sit on his stool by the bar and talk to you. He thought about you all day long. About all the ways you did our hair and those mom jeans that hugged your waist just right. He’d catch himself thinking about the way you humbly count your tips at the end of each night, or the way you laugh with Fanboy over the most insane things. He would often daydream about your smile, your eyes, and your ability to captivate the entire bar. 
“Fine,” Jake knocked his knuckles on the wood of the bar as he rose to his feet once again. “Suit yourself, but just for the record, I like my bachelor pad very much.” For as much as Jake truly did love his quick, tidy and rather put-together home, he sure wouldn’t have minded the slightest bit if you lived there too. 
“I think the local community of gonorrhoea would say the same.” You took the card Jake was handing over. “Starting a tab?” 
“Depends, what’s Bradshaws looking like?” Jake was always the first to add an extra beer or three onto Bradley’s outstanding tab. You were always the first person to turn a blind eye then doing so. As you looked up Roosters name in the system the number was much higher than you originally expected. It seemed as though the boys had well and truly been taking advantage of Rooster’s current love-hate relationship with the Hard Deck barkeep. 
“Eh, he owes me a couple hundred.” You smiled softly back at Jake as you placed his card in the draw. 
“Yeah, start a table angel, gives me more of an excuse to linger,” Jake replied with a genuine smile, his eyes were soft and swirling with ease. He’d never felt this way about a woman before. You gentled him to a point where if you asked him tomorrow to run away with you, he’d follow you to the end of the world.
“I’m sure that’s called stalking–” You sighed as you turned around momentarily to pick up your knife and head back to cutting your lemon slices. 
“Consider me your biggest fan then, Brewer.” Jake grinned ear to ear as he took a sip of his beer, heading off toward the pool table where you knew he’d be for the next few hours.
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
The Hard Deck was rather busy for a Monday afternoon. The bar was in high spirits as you manoeuvred yourself around the floor collecting empty glasses and cans. You could feel Jake’s eyes burning into you as you spoke to patrons and cleaned up tables. But there was one person you hadn’t seen yet that you needed to talk to desperately. Bob. 
“Where’s our resident underage drinker this evening gentlemen?” You cooed as you made your way over to your favourite group of aviators. “And Nix.” You added as you gave Phoenix a side hug. 
“Haven’t seen him actually?” Fanboy replied, his answer wasn’t one you wanted to hear. Usually, if someone wasn’t here by this time of the night then they weren’t coming at all. You really needed to speak to Bob. 
“Do you think he'll be in?” You questioned as you let go of Phoenix and went about collecting empty glasses. You knew Bob had annual leave coming up, he'd been talking about it for weeks now. 
“Why the sudden obsession with Bob, Brewer?” Rooster chimed in. “You guys on the down low or something?” That very question had Jake's blood boiling. You could see the jealousy clear as day smeared across his face from across the pool table.
“I’m uh—” It came out before you knew what you were saying. “I'm seeing someone, casually, it's really new.” Your eyes very quickly glanced over at Jake who now wore that same smug grin that he normally wore. Only this time his eyes were swirling with administration. “It's not Bob, but I appreciate your interest in my love life, Bradshaw.” 
“Lord help the man who ends up under your control,” Bradley rolled his eyes with a deep resentment you couldn't quite understand. The feud between the pain of you was something that formed from a mere misunderstanding. Surely the two of you could let bygones be bygones and move on. 
“An apology will wipe that ever-mounting tab clear Bradshaw, you know that.” You teased as you made your way back to the bar. You could feel the back of your throat growing tighter, and the sting of holding back tears that had become an all too familiar sensation began to grow. You couldn’t keep yourself busy enough to forget your dad was dead and no one, not a single soul had told you of his passing until he was six feet under. No amount of work could keep your mind from trailing to all the memories that played aloud in your mind, drowning out the mundane chatter from patrons. 
“Can I get another beer sweetheart?” You hear one of the men say as he held his head up with the palm of his hand. He was using his elbow as an anchor, keeping him from slumping over onto the bar. 
“Sure, what are you drinking?” You facked a smile so easily readable that Jake saw right through it from across the Hard Deck. He could sense that you were off, something wasn’t right. One minute you were happy, the next he didn't recognise the look in your eyes. 
“Whatever you don’t mind tasting after you finish your shift.” The man said with the confidence of a much taller man. It made the damn burst inside you. Fuck this and fuck everything. 
“Careful, the succulent reminder of your own inadequacies walking this way might cause a scene real quick if you don’t back off.” The problem was simple, you’re doing it all on your own. Choosing to stay all closeted in your own little bubble, longing for love, friends and family. Scared of death, scared of life, taking it out on those who tried to get close. But as Jake walked towards the bar, you felt like you could rely on him. He made you feel safe even if being around you put him in unimaginable danger. “That’s what I thought too.” You chuckled to yourself as the man nodded and sighed. 
“You good?” Jake asked as he decided against following the first of many of Penny’s rules for the residence group of aviators. Mavericks rag-tag team of adopted children. The first and most important being no aviators behind the bar. Jake, however, didn’t care. 
“I feel like I’m rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic here,” You growled as you poured the man his beer. The last one you were going to pour him for the night. “My life is falling apart around me and here I fucking am pouring beers for America’s best and brightest tax-guzzling fighter pilots.” 
Jake could very much sense that something was wrong, this wasn’t like you. He thought, however, since your shared moment in your apartment yesterday, that he had some sort of upper hand here over all the others. 
“You need to take a break, just pause for a second.” Jake placed his hand softly on your shoulder as he stood behind you. Whatever was going on inside your head was bleeding out into reality. 
The feeling broke you. Jake’s touch, it wasn’t your husband’s. The man you got killed. It was Jake’s touch that broke you from whatever restraints you had tangled yourself in. The barbed wire that cut you right to your bones. 
“No, you can’t just pause, because in real life the trauma doesn’t just stop,” You broke as you spun around into Jake’s chest. He was quick to look around as people from all walks of life looked around to bear witness to your impending mental breakdown. He caught Bradley’s gaze before anyone else's. Even the man who had unintentionally started a war with the new Hard Deck manager was worried about you. 
“Penny–” Jake sighed as he looked over at the woman who still ran the show from behind the scenes. She nodded in agreement, a silent one. One where it was now Jake’s responsibility to get you out of the Hard Deck before you could draw any more attention to yourself. 
“Let's go outside alright? Get some air–?” Jake tried to reason with you as you shook your head and balled your fist into his white cotton T. Your eyes swirled with a pain he’d never be able to process. A pain so unfathomable it sounded fictional. 
“God doesn’t work that way or whoever the fucks in charge of this godforsaken hell I’m living!! You can do absolutely everything right and still…. Good, people, die.” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**
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cuubism · 8 months ago
Text
physical therapy part 4
--
It takes some time, but finally, Dream's hand starts to feel better when he's painting. Granted, his grip strength still needs some work, and he's had to adjust the way he holds a brush to accommodate the lingering stiffness he gets in some of his fingers, but he's finding it hard to care when a few months ago he couldn't draw a straight line without it turning into a scribble. He'd known Hob was good at his job, but it still feels like a miracle.
The only downside is that once he makes enough progress Hob will surely decide to end their sessions. And while he had said that he liked Dream, that he cared about Dream... Dream is finding it hard to feel assured of those feelings. Someone's feelings can change on a dime, and it's impossible to predict.
But finally the day does come when Hob deems him progressed enough to simply continue his exercises at home. "At this point I think you've regained enough mobility that it's just a matter of gradually increasing how much you're using your hand," he says. "You've made a ton of progress."
"Have I?" Dream is less sure. Some things are certainly easier now, like doing tasks around the house, and picking things up. Art is another matter. Though perhaps he is simply making excuses because he doesn't want to stop seeing Hob.
"Yeah, look." Hob pulls out a folder from amongst his files, and shows Dream several sketches--the ones Dream's made in session, which he's apparently kept. Dream picks up the oldest sketch, the cats he'd doodled at his first appointment. They're shaky and uneven, like something he might have drawn when he was barely four. He supposes he can't deny the progress since then. He's torn between wanting to tear the drawing up, for it's too wretched a reminder--and wanting to hold it close to his chest.
"It's not that I think there's no more room for improvement, or anything," Hob says. "I just don't think continuing these frequent sessions is going to offer more than a marginal benefit."
Dream thinks that the benefit he is receiving at this point is more in being able to look forward to seeing Hob each week, than the physical therapy itself. He needs something to look forward to. He's put Hob's objectively terrible finger painting on his fridge. It's still the only spot of color in his empty flat. He needs that.
"So," Hob continues, "I thought I'd take you out to celebrate."
That pulls Dream from his head. "You... will?"
Hob winks at him. "Promised you, didn't I?"
Yes. Dream supposes he had promised that if Dream's feelings held true Hob would act on them. Is that what he's doing? Dream's growing disappointment swiftly morphs into something else. Hope.
"I--" he swallows hard. "I. Would like that." It's still strange, to have something he wants. And to feel like it may be okay to express it.
"Perfect." Hob grins, gets up, holds out a hand.
"Now?"
"You got somewhere else to be?"
Dream never has anywhere else to be, and doubts he would go there if he did. He takes Hob's hand.
Hob takes him to a Chinese restaurant nearby, and Dream looks at him suspiciously as Hob passes him a pair of chopsticks with a cheeky grin. "Now you are just testing me."
"Yup. 'Course if you can't use chopsticks in the first place then it's moot."
Dream can use chopsticks. Could. No, can. Death would say that he should think positively.
So he takes the chopsticks.
Once their food comes, Hob, the absolute bastard, puts down his own chopsticks and picks up a fork instead. And Dream knows, somehow he just knows, that it's not because he can't use them. He's teasing Dream. Or perhaps ensuring that Dream won't compare himself if he struggles. Or both.
He should feel hurt by the teasing but... somehow he's not.
"See?" Hob says when Dream manages to eat his noodles with the chopsticks. It's... not that hard. It doesn't even hurt. Maybe Hob is better at his job than Dream even thought.
It makes him tear up. Such a silly, small thing to start crying over when he's barely cried at all, even when he'd first hurt his hand.
"Hey, it's okay," Hob soothes him, wiping away Dream's tears with his thumb. "I think the noodles are salty enough without the addition of tears, hm?"
Dream laughs, wiping at his eyes when the tears keep falling. "Good tears," he manages to say.
"I know," Hob says, and smiles at him.
Dream surprises himself by having an actually nice time. He hasn't had a nice time doing something in so long. It feels good. He doesn't want it to end.
Of course, it does end, and he finds himself lingering outside the restaurant, hesitant to go home. Particularly as he no longer has a set time when he will see Hob. He feels aimless without that, but. It is hard to ask.
"Dream..." Hob starts, likewise lingering in front of the restaurant. The lights of the signage above cast his face in shades of violet. Dream has thought him handsome before, but never so much as now.
Hob hesitates over what to say, then finally just steps over to him. "Come here."
And before Dream can decide how to react, Hob folds him into a hug.
Dream goes still on instinct. Then, gradually, relaxes into Hob's strong hold. He... can't remember the last time someone hugged him.
He lets himself tuck his face into Hob's shoulder.
"Hey," Hob says. His voice is so close to Dream's ear now. "I'm proud of you."
Dream hears himself make a tiny whimpering sound. He. He does not know how to be proud of himself. He thinks he would only be proud of himself if he could go back in time and stop himself from getting in that terrible relationship to begin with. But he does like how it sounds when Hob says it.
Hob gives him one more squeeze, then, disappointingly, releases him. "I almost forgot. I have something for you."
He digs around in his bag and comes back with a box that looks rather like art supplies of some kind. "It's modelling clay," he explains. "So you can play around and work on your hand without just doing, you know, boring exercises all the time."
Hob is too considerate of him, truly. Dream holds the box close.
"You okay to get home?" Hob asks, and Dream nods. His ex has not bothered him again, and Dream is now hopeful that he won't. Though that does not necessarily mean he doesn't want Hob to follow him home.
"Good," Hob says. Then, while Dream is still thinking about the hug and the clay and everything else, Hob leans in and kisses his cheek. "Goodnight, Dream."
Dream stands paralyzed until Hob is gone, and it's only then that he realizes he failed to set another time for them to meet. He supposes he does have Hob's office contact info. Still, it is disappointing not to have something to look forward to.
But when he gets home, and opens the box of clay, he finds a note inside. It has the name of a coffee shop, and Tuesday, 3pm?, and Hob's personal number. At first he's confused. Why wouldn't Hob simply ask him while they were together? And then he realizes that Hob must be trying to give him a chance to comfortably back out if he wants to by letting him decide in private. It makes him want to cry again. Hob truly is too considerate of him.
But he takes out his phone and types in Hob's number, and a simple reply. Yes.
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weebsinstash · 7 months ago
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I know you mentioned that you aren't a big fan of pregnancy AU stuff in Hazbin, but hear me out...
Imagine Yandere Valentino getting his Darling pregnant to have a living bargaining chip to make sure she doesn't even try to leave him
New idea. What if the only people who can procreate in Hell are red string soulmates, or, it's like akin to ABO in the sense that not everyone or every combo of people could create a baby.
I was thinking about a yandere Valentino who has Reader as his red string soulmate whatever and you run away after seeing how truly abusive he is to other people, worrying for your own safety, and you're missing for like a straight year before Valentino finds out where you are, and... he's all but KICKING DOWN the door of your apartment, and he's looking at you like a hungry predator ready to pounce on you, cornering you, and
a baby starts crying from the other room and you're SPRINTING to the noise and Valentino finds you defensively holding a little bundle to your chest, growling snarling baring fangs holding a knife whatever at him, and Valentino thinks you adopted some other man's kid, some little imp bastard or something, and he's furious, he's raising his voice, he's getting closer, he's-
making perfect eye contact with a little tiny baby replica of himself as it turns to look at him with its big red eyes and chubby cheeks and fat arms and. It takes Val a few seconds to process it. The baby looks right at him and is whimpering and gurgling, upset, but doesn't cry. The baby boy sneezes and his antenna flip back and forth. He's got lil hearts in his fur and his teeny antenna are already so fluffy.
'Oh but aren't baby moths technically caterpillars--' shut the fuck up, you're demons and also that would be ugly as fuck. You want to give birth to a 20 armed baby or something. No. We save the truly inhuman babies for the human x monster/alien/whatever prompts. Your baby comes out a mini mothperson and it's fluffy and chubby and fucking adorable and also shut up
Val is just, SMITTEN, the narcissism is turned up to 100, he's rapid cycling emotions, "*GASPING* OUR BABY IS SO FUCKING CUTE, WHAT THE FUCK, I WANT TO HOLD HIM" "So I knocked you up good huh 😏" "*already on the phone in a group call with the other Vees and taking 200 pictures* you should see this thing, he looks just like me, can you even believe that, I can already tell he's gonna be so handsome and successful cuz he's MY son" "aw, amorcito did you think you needed to run away to protect our baby because I have so many enemies? You're such a good mama ❤️❤️❤️"
You spend like MONTHS lovingly protecting and sheltering your child until he's a healthy giggling little chubroll and Val has him for like two days and suddenly your baby has his ears pierced with diamonds in them and Valentino is walking around in his high heels and slutty bodysuits with your son in a papoose cuddled into his chest fur. You're holding your sleeping son while Val is beside you and someone sneezes across the room and the baby stirs and here's Valentino, "SHUT THE FUCK UP, MY SON IS SLEEPING", like, NOT ANYMORE YOU DUMB JACKASS???
'Oh gee why is Valentino suddenly funding and producing more erotic films involving moms and breeding and pregnant people and lactation-' you fucking know why and honestly I think it'd be SO FUNNY if he's like, "oh yeah, don't worry, I want you on birth control too mami. I missed fucking you and I kinda wanna do a lot of that without worrying about another little niño or two. At least not for a while :)"
Valentino on the red carpet being his cunty fashionable self while his baby is in a sling and they're both wearing matching outfits. Your baby boy has a tiny iced-up watch that's worth more than the entire building you were living in before his father found you. Your "husband" is posing half-naked with your baby on the cover of Demon Playboy which he owns, "HELL'S HOTTEST NEW DILF" like I COULD NOT WITH THIS MAN
And obviously he's got new kinks now that you're a mom and he absolutely fucks the hell out of you to the point you would get pregnant again without the birth control 😳 valentino on some real "is this the milk you've been feeding my baby with, let me try some" type stuff where he's milking you dry during his bang sesh and your son has to have formula that night because your tank is EMPTY 💀 YOU'RE A RAISIN LIKE THAT SCENE FROM SCOOBY DOO ZOMBIE ISLAND--
God. I've read horror stories about women getting pregnant again even WHILE being on multiple types of birth control so, then you get knocked up again Because Of Course You Would, You're Taking More Creampies Than A Professional Rodeo Clown, and what does Valentino say? "Fuck it, I wanna keep it! I can't just MURK my baby after it beat the odds, that's so ME!" And now you're having twin girls 💀💀💀 who knows, maybe having some daughters would teach Valentino to actually respect women--
I feel like you would wake up one morning and be genuinely hysterical because your baby is missing and you can't get in contact with Valentino and you're freaking out at the absolute highest level and it turned out to be some dumb shit like Val just took your son along with him for THE ENTIRE DAY and didn't think of mentioning it to you because "but you were needing a break and we were bonding, mami. We were having our guy time. I was leaving for work and he looked at me and he SMILED AT ME. What the fuck was i supposed to do, I couldn't just LEAVE HIM, he wanted his papi"
Of course, all these ideas hinge on the concept of Valentino actually caring for his baby. He could still genuinely use it as a tool against you. You're out running errands and suddenly you're getting a call. It's Valentino. He wants you to come home; you left the baby with Kitty so you could go out for a little while for some 'you time' since you've been trapped at home hiding ever since you ran from him before learning you were pregnant. It's not even about you leaving the baby with a nanny; it's about you not being home when Valentino came to visit you and him being uncomfortable not knowing exactly where you are and exactly what you're doing
Well, you got a little smart with him. You've just spent the last about 11 months living through hell with your pregnancy and hiding; you deserve to get some fresh air and walk out on the town and--- in the middle of you lecturing him you can just hear your baby making baby noises through the phone and Valentino just adopts this... tone in his voice, "amorcito, I came to spend time with you and our little frijolito and you're not heeee~ere. You know I can have trouble concentrating when I've had a few drinks and, earlier i dropped my phone on accident and i thought 'oh, it's good i wasn't holding something important"
You're home within 20 minutes and Valentino is cuddling into you while he puts some garbage on TV and pretends not to notice how you're trembling as you hold your son and send the occasional wary glance his father's way...
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dixons-sunshine · 6 months ago
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Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader—Daryl With A Kid Headcannons
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Word count: 733.
A/n: Requests are temporarily closed! I'll open them up again soon, though. Anyways, I hope you like this! (By the way, the child's age isn't mentioned, but it's set around the toddler stage!)
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
★ Daryl was so amazed that he had a child of his own.
★ When you had first told him you were pregnant all those years ago, his world had turned upside down. However, the first time he held his baby, he knew it was in a good way.
★ As his child grew up, he did everything with them that his own father never did with him, subconsciously healing his inner child by doing so.
★ When I say everything, I mean everything. From teaching them how to ride a bicycle, to teaching them how to swim, to building pillow forts, to colouring or drawing with them. Anything his child felt like doing that day, he would make a reality.
★ Except if he knew it was dangerous for his child. Then it was an automatic no.
★ Daryl was surprisingly good at handling his child's tantrums. His child shared his own temper, so he knew exactly how to curb their tantrums.
★ He loved having his kid sleep in bed with the two of you. With you on one side and him on the other, the both of you keeping your child safe between the two of you.
★ One of his favourite things in the whole world is when the two of you are cuddled up on the couch with your child resting on either of your chests, some old Disney movie playing on the television.
★ He'd be filled with so much love when he looks from the television and see that the both of you fell asleep while resting against/on him. It made him feel valued, like the two of you trusted him enough to keep you safe while you slept.
★ Talks of having another child come up from time to time. Daryl knows how important having a sibling can be and wants that for his kid, but at the same time, he's terrified of having more children. He was terrified of having just one, but he doesn't regret it.
★ So if you want another kid, he'd never deny you that.
★ Family days are his favourite!
★ Those days where you whip out a deck of Uno cards or some board game you found are some of the absolute best times of his life.
★ Even if your toddler doesn't understand the game and ends up following their own rules. In his opinion, that makes the game even more fun.
★ He knows he doesn't have the best singing voice and he doesn't know any lullabies, but he tries his best.
★ He manages to sing some of his favourite songs from the old world in a tone that closely resembles a lullaby, and that often does the trick.
★ Daryl feels so bad when he raises his voice.
★ After seeing his child cry and run to their room, he instantly feels like the lowest piece of shit on earth. He almost always gets transfered back to those times with his father, and he wonders if he's starting to turn into that bastard.
★ It takes some gentle reassurance from you that he wasn't his dad for him to go up to his child's room and apologize.
★ Cue his surprise and great relief when they run straight into his arms and instantly forgive him.
★ Everything is almost always sorted out by gently addressing the situation, and Daryl always leaves feeling happy, yet frustrated.
★ Happy because his child doesn't hate him and they managed to resolve everything, but frustrated because he realized how easy it was to just sit and talk it out. Not once did he ever feel the urge to hit his kid, so his hatred for his father grew more each time.
★ Whenever he's walking outside with his kid, he loves holding their hand to keep them close.
★ Of course, if the kid didn't like that, he wouldn't push that boundary, but if they didn't mind, Daryl would love to hold their tiny hand in his. It's something his mom used to do with him when he was a toddler and it made him feel safe, so he hoped that his kid felt the same way with him.
★ Daryl loves his child and he always tries his best. That much everyone could see.
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dameronology · 2 years ago
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how about what would happen if the star wars boys made you cry 👀
ok i kinda did this in the scenario that you're arguing and they make you cry
characters: din, poe, finn, han, luke & obi-wan
din djarin
he is HORRIFIED the minute tears spring from your eyes
maybe you're fighting, maybe he got stressed and said something in the heat of moment, whatever it is, he's immediately forgotten about what he was mad about and he's by your side, floods of apologies coming from his mouth and gloved hands taking yours
he just kinda pulls you into his chest and holds you for a moment and my GOD he wants the world to swallow him up because he loves you more than anything in the world and he normally hates whoever makes you cry but right now it's him
truth is, you know din and you know that he would never do anything to intentionally hurt you so as far as apologies go, it's one you accept pretty quickly
he's gonna apologise for like a week after that
even if it becomes annoying
poe dameron
poe just sort of freezes and has this "oh fuck" look on his face
"oh god, don't cry. please don't cry. did i make you cry? oh my god. i made you cry."
and then he probably starts crying too
because he always wants to cry when you cry but the fact that he's the one responsible for it? woo boy
he swallows it down though and doesn't let you see because he doesn't want to seem like he's taking away from what he's done
his immediate reaction is to want to hug you, but he waits for a moment to see if you'll let him because he doesn't know if you're gonna swing at him tbh
if you let him, he holds you fucking tight. he doesn't apologise then and there, though, not until things have calmed down - normally a few moments later - that he says sorry and you know it's from the bottom of his heart
he goes out his way over the next few days to make it up to you; flowers, dinner, a romantic trip to a distant planet, but above all, he makes an active effort to never let it happen again
and that's what matters most
finn
honestly finn looks like a kicked puppy
because he tries so hard to never argue with you or get mad EXACTLY FOR THIS REASON and he has failed in his attempts and oh lord he wants to die
he doesn't jump immediately to apologising, mostly because he wants you to say what you need to say and he doesn't want to talk over you
and he listens!! he wants to know what he did and what he said so that it never happens again
then he apologises, and it's always straight to the point but still eloquent and meaningful
finn isn't gonna be the kinda guy who apologises for days (oh, din) or goes out his way to shower you in sorry gifts (ah, poe) because mostly he just wants to move on from it and get back to a good place with you but it's like...not in a way that he forgets about it??
it's more of a thing that he hates things being off with you. like it literally kills him inside. so he encourages you to both move forward and get back to the good stuff.
but he also makes it clear that he has learnt from it
han solo
han literally doesn't know what to do. he can barely handle people crying at the best of times but when a) it's you and b) you're crying because of him?
his immediate reaction is to run, because it's han and he always wants to peg it away from every single issue but his chest hurts at the idea and it hurts even more when he knows he's the bastard that made you cry
he just goes silent and is kinda 🧍‍♂️for a second because his brain is computing but then he realises that he does know what to do when you cry and that's attack the thing that upset you
then he realises that he can't do that and goes "well i can't fucking blast myself, so i don't really know what to do right now" and it's stupid and dumb and oh my god han read the fucking room but at least it breaks the ice a little bit and you smile
because, despite everything and despite han being...well, han, you know he's trying his best and the fact he's even still in front of you is actually something of a miracle
that's your cue to rip into him, by the way, because even if you're crying it is canon that the only way to get han solo to listen to you is to tear him a new one (or three) so he will stand there and take the bollocking
after that, he apologises. han isn't good with words so it's a little bit spacey and awkward but the intent is there
but he also makes it abundantly clear that he never means to hurt you and you know, from the bottom of his heart, that he means it
luke skywalker
luke literally stops in his tracks and he's holding you immediately and going "i didn't mean that, i really didn't mean that, please don't hate me"
literally his entire facade his gone - the stubbornness, whatever he's arguing about - just disappears and he realises immediately that none of it is worth making you cry
so the man is literally holding you before your tears even start and he's already apologising over and over
he does want to listen to you though and hear what you have to say, so he's all ears
tbh, it's hard to stay angry at luke for long because you know he's completely pure intentioned and good hearted but you can absolutely opt to give him the silent treatment or take space for as long as you need and he will let you do it
after that, he buys you flowers and will make it up to you in every way he knows how
obi-wan kenobi
out of everyone on the list, obi-wan is the one who is the most shooketh to his core when he realises that he's made you cry
because he's so chivalrous and loving and might as well live to serve you so the idea that he's hurt you is quite possibly his greatest fear come true
his immediate reaction is to give you space. he'll apologise first and let you know that he's ready to talk whenever you are, simply because he doesn't want to overstep or push you to make up until you're ready
but as soon as you are, he's all ears and listening to everything you have to say
again - and i feel like i'm saying this for every character here lol - you know that he'd never hurt you intentionally and although that's the main, the proof is in the pudding when he actively listens to you and makes an effort to avoid it happening again
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