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queenimmadolla · 2 years ago

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I need a part in the penny verse where the whole Eddie telling baby bump penny that her mom is going to be a MILF comes into play.

Like one we day the reader is picking up penny from school and maybe another kids dad flirts with her or like a new neighbor of theirs does and maybe Eddie’s reaction to that

Not even gonna front with you, I've been sitting on this for a min because I wrote it and then freaking forgot about it. I did take some creative liberties, but I think you'll like what I got for ya. Ps, ‘baby bump penny’ had my heart throwing up, I always forget that we get her in different phases of her existence and she was once in reader’s belly 🥹💘

to everyone else, sorry, I can't link shit but this is a follow up to a ton of other pennyverse entries so you can search that on my tumblr until the links work again. and i'm trying the keep reading cut again, let me know if it fucks up the post.

(dad!eddie munson x mom!reader)

Summary: Something's been bothering you these last couple of weeks and you won't tell Eddie what it is. Like that'll stop him, he's determined to figure it out.

warnings: a creepy (and freaking terrible) dad hits on reader, implied unwelcome advances, crude comments about reader and the female body (eddie sets this fucker straight), protective!eddie :)

Eddie knew you. He knew every fiber of your being, every marker in your past, all the ways you liked to style your hair, how you decided on what makeup to put on that day—if you even wore any—,the different types of silence you’d sink into and what they meant, your body (god, he was intimately in tune with it), and every different smile you wore. Eddie knew you.

He just didn’t know exactly what went on in that beautiful head of yours. Eddie was positive he had a sixth sense catered only to you, it’d let him know whenever there was something wrong, something bothering you. It prompted him to approach you, watch you even more than he already did. Putting himself metaphorically in your shoes usually helped him figure it out the rest of the way, but for this particular occurrence, he had nothing to go on.

For the past couple of weeks, since Penny had started preschool, you’d moved your work schedule around to go in earlier so you’d be out in time to pick Penny up from school and snag the baby from Maude and Wayne, who watched him while you and Eddie were at work.

Eddie noticed a change in you. It was minor at first, a little frazzled when he’d get home, but you hid it well. Now, you looked bothered. Always zoned out, with a frown on your face. You never left the house like that, always gave him and the kids kisses before you went on your merry way (well, as happy as you could be going to a desk job), so it had to be something that happened after you left home that bothered you.

It wasn’t work, you’d rant to Eddie about it if you had a bad day but you liked to leave work problems at your desk when you left it, something about not being paid to worry or think about work after hours.

It bugged the fuck out of him. He’d tried to approach the subject before, leaving you openings to tell him what was going on but you always shrugged it off and went on about your day as if you hadn’t been upset over something. You couldn’t hide it completely, though. Not from Eddie, he could still see those split seconds where your mind wandered off and the corners of your lips twitched down.

Given how stubborn you were, Eddie decided he’d need to take a more hands on approach. Since he suspected something was happening after you left home in the mornings and before he got home from work, he’d have to be present for that timeframe.

He’d left work around lunchtime, Norm was understanding about it and didn't really care all that much since it was a relatively slow day for business.

His son had been delighted when he picked him up from his Grandpa and (grandma) Maude’s, squirming and wiggling in her hold until Eddie got a hold of him. Baby Wayne had immediately placed his hands on Eddie’s jaw, urging his dad to bend his head so he could rest his forehead against his own, those big eyes of his fluttering shut the moment they connected and soft coos of dada mumbled in between them, unlike Penny had, Wayne caught onto the baby babble of mama and dada. Penny hadn’t because one of you was always helicoptering around her so Princess Penny hadn’t felt the need.

Eddie would never get over how much his baby seemed to love cuddling with his parents, everytime baby Wayne was affectionate, he turned into goo, melting in his chubby hands. They lingered in the trailer for a couple of minutes while Eddie and big Wayne discussed how things were going in the apartment, though it had been more than a year since they’d moved in. Naturally, Wayne had asked why he was stopping by so early to pick up the baby so your change in demeanor came up in conversation.

“Mmm, I been noticin’ ‘er actin’ odd whenever she comes to pick up little man. Seems fine when she gets ‘ere. ‘S when she leaves, she seems a little…”

“Hesitant?” Eddie supplied and Wayne nodded, mouth pressed in a firm line.

It was then that Maude Maple spoke up, something the widow rarely did in the presence of anyone other than Wayne, and it was with great hesitance.

“She—she mentioned something once, about the pick up at Penny’s preschool. She didn’t go into too much detail, I think she’s bothered by it.”

“Looks like I’m on pick-up duty today.”

After leaving Wayne and Maude’s and asking the latter to give you a call at work to let you know he picked the baby up, Eddie spent the rest of the afternoon with baby Wayne. It involved a food fight—yes, Eddie flung some back at him, he had it coming, when Wayne had decided he was done being fed and done with food that wasn’t coming from your boob so he’d thrown the macaroni at his dad’s face—a shared shower to rid evidence of said food fight, jamming out (terribly) on toy musical instruments before Eddie gave him a bottle and some cuddles while he put Wayne down for his nap. . . And fell asleep with him.

You came home to a suspiciously quiet apartment, a little too clean, save for a couple of toys in the living room. You found your boys in Wayne’s nursery, both of them in the crib.

It was a heartwarming and comical sight, Eddie’s legs were dangling outside of the crib and the baby was curled up on his chest, though he stirred at the sound of the door opening, pushing himself up off his dad as he blinked lazily at you, mouth parting to reveal a couple of little white nubs in his gummy smile, teeth coming in.

He cooed softly, once. When you didn’t immediately go pick him up, he let out a stream of coos, loud and demanding but still loving as he tried to entice you over. When you still stood there giggling, he got mad, seemingly joining you in your laughter with his fake and very forced sounding baby laugh which quickly morphed into fake cries as he pushed himself to his feet and stood on Eddie’s chest, clinging to the bars of his crib as though he were a locked up criminal.

Eddie groaned, hands moving to grab your son and you finally made your way over, picking Wayne up—much to his utter delight—to relieve Eddie of his weight.

“Ouch, dude. You can’t just stand on people like that, it’s rude.” He croaked out, as his son’s weight was lifted off of his chest.

Eddie couldn’t even be annoyed, not when he could see Wayne scrambling eagerly in your arms, face rubbing into your neck, chest, cheek, anywhere the little guy could reach in his desperation and excitement to be as close as he could to his mama.

After giving Wayne’s tummy some tickles, amplifying his excited wiggles with a few ‘so excited, so excited’s, you leaned over so the both of you could stare down at Eddie, amusement cloaking your pretty features.

“I think it might be time to get you a big boy bed.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh and then groaned once more as he tried to sit up as much as he could, which wasn’t a whole lot given the fact half of him was hanging out of the crib.

“This is gonna be fun,” he mumbled, but eventually he was able to maneuver himself out of it without breaking it. He placed his hands on his lower back, arching until it gave away to a satisfying pop.

“Oh, yeah. That’s good.”

“Daddy’s so silly, huh?” You asked your son, bouncing him in your arms as you placed a kiss on his curly head before directing your next question to Eddie, “Is everything okay, baby?”

“Just peachy, honey.” He was definitely gonna have to ask you to rub his back tonight. “Wanted to have some one-on-one time with him, even if he regularly abandons me the moment you’re in sight.”

Eddie reached a finger out to tickle Wayne’s stomach, smirking when he laughed and tried to hide further in your hold.

You smiled at their interaction, though the joy quickly flitted from your expression, “Do you want to watch him? While I go pick up Penny?”

Another obvious tell something was wrong: you’d chosen to come home, put an intentional stop between getting off of work and picking up Penny. It was almost as though you needed time to prepare yourself, which was a giant freaking red flag to Eddie considering you used to drive straight over to her school and wait for her.

“Why don’t you stay with him? I can go pick her up.”

The light returned to your eyes.

“Really? I mean—I don’t mind, I don’t want to get in the way of your bonding time.”

“He’s clearly over me,” The sentence was whispered at his son with fake aggression, which left Wayne a giggling mess once more, Eddie chuckled and gave his son’s chin an affectionate squeeze and wiggle, “I’ll pick up Princess Penelope, she loves the disapproving looks people give me.”

“Shut up!” You laughed, leaning up to give him a kiss before he snatched his keys off the counter.

“I’ll see you soon, beautiful.”

“Say bye-bye to daddy!” You encouraged your baby, bouncing him a little against your hip. “Buh-buh.” He waved his chunky little hand, smiling wide for his dad.

When Eddie collapsed into the door, hand clenched over his heart, you added, “Blow daddy a kiss!” Baby Wayne lifted his palm to his mouth briefly before extending his arm out in Eddie’s direction, “Mah!” Eddie pretended to catch it, smacked the invisible kiss over his mouth and blew one right back at his baby before he forced himself out the door.

His kid was so cute, it was a federal offense. The drive to Penny’s preschool was short, thanks to living close by. Eddie hopped out of the van–he and a couple of the guys from the shop installed a backseat prior to Penny’s birth–and made his way to the waiting area. Eddie had never gone to a preschool as a kid so he couldn’t exactly judge the pick up and drop off routine, but Penny’s preschool rarely allowed anyone in. They simply walked up to one of the entrance doors, rang a special doorbell attached to the building, and one of the teachers or aides or whatever would verify the adult picking them up if they didn’t recognize them and then bring the kid out.

Which meant Eddie had to stand around with other adults. There’d been a couple of them already waiting when he’d arrived, so he’d made himself comfortable on a nearby column as he waited, mind once more preoccupied with reasons as to why you didn’t seem to enjoy picking Penny up anymore. You liked Penny’s teacher, could it be one of the aides giving you a hard time? No. That’s something you would have told him.

Eddie was so distracted, he hadn’t noticed another body settle against the wall across from him.

“You a new dad? Haven’t seen you around before.”

“What?” Eddie blinked, roused from his thoughts. The guy across from him looked like he was in his mid thirties, dressed in a skeezy suit that looked like it belonged on a car lot rather than an office, and had really big, overly white teeth he couldn’t seem to put away.

“Not a new dad, a new dad to this school. Although, you do look a little young.” The stranger clarified with a shrug.

There was something about him that Eddie immediately disliked. He could tell this was not only their first interaction, it would also be their last.

“No, I usually do the drop off.” Eddie stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, eyes flashing back to the entrance door just in time to make eye contact with one of the aides, he saw the recognition in her eyes before she closed the door again and felt less annoyed with the situation knowing she’d be retrieving Penny.

He hadn’t really left room for conversation, but the guy still continued.

“Gotcha, gotcha.” His head bobbed around, Eddie thought if he listened carefully enough, he could hear his brain rattling in there, “I used to be on drop off duty myself, but I hated getting the kids ready. I’ve got four of those little monsters, every little task takes goddamn near twenty minutes.” Oh, no. This guy didn’t say it with annoyance, no, he seemed contemptuous when he talked about his kids. Eddie didn’t like that.

“Wouldn’t be so bad if my wife could just get a grip on them,” Maybe she could if she had help, you’re clearly useless, “Name’s Neil, by the way.” Eddie just raised his chin in acknowledgement. One would think ol’ Neil would catch on to Eddie not wanting to talk to him, but one would be wrong. “Yup. ‘S why I’m not on drop off duty. Sure, the pick up has its faults, kids always smell like a stale fart from all that running around and they’re babbling non-stop the whole ride, but I think you’ll find you’ll like being on pick-up duty,” Then he leaned in, like he was telling a secret and whispered out, “Most of the hot moms do the pick-ups.”

That sixth sense Eddie had for you? Yeah, it was on freaking fire, hot red and jumping around. He was positive he now knew the reason behind your discomfort with picking Penny up.

Some fucking creep wouldn’t leave you alone. Eddie’s jaw ticked, hands clenched into fists from the insides of his pockets. He didn’t say anything, but that wasn’t necessary with this guy.

“Man, you should see some of them. You gotta wonder why they only have one kid, I’d be all over that.” He gave a low whistle before he let out the most unflattering of cackles.

“You missed most of the show, but there’s this one mom–god, the body on this one. . .and she’s always done up, think she works in an office or something, but she’s a sight for sore eyes. A real MILF. She’s only got one kid, too. Little girl she picks up, so you know she’s tight.”

Eddie would be committing a crime, because he knew he was talking about you. He was going to murder this asshole. He was gonna strangle Neil with his own intestines and get rid of the body in the town dump where he belonged.

He must have not noticed the crazed glint in Eddie’s eyes because the idiot kept going, “I know what you’re thinking, I’m not actively planning on doing anything. Haven’t seen her in a couple of days, pretty sure she’s working late or something because she’s gotta be snatching this kid up late. Heard she’s married to some greasy mechanic and a pretty little thing like that coming to pick up her kid with these dads around? Shit, I wouldn’t be letting her out of the house. He’s signing her up for this. You gotta wonder if she likes the attention. She’s got this shy thing going on, though. Always so meek when I’m chatting her up. Not like my wife.” Neil’s face contorted in disdain, “Four fucking kids, man.” Okay, Eddie would be murdering him on behalf of you, and his wife. And the rest of the human population. He’d had enough, it was time to make sure this shit wouldn’t be continuing. “You got any pictures?” Eddie asked, feigning interest for the first time since he’d come up to him. Neil scoffed and dug around in his pocket, “Wife won’t let me go anywhere without them, you know how it is. Constant reminders and all that, like she doesn’t trust me to not forget.”

Eddie tried not to snatch the photo out of his slimy hands, frown deepening when he realized Neil’s story about having a wife and kids was not in fact made up. Four beaming little faces stared back up at Eddie, with a pretty fifth smile in the picture. She was severely out of her husband’s league, seemingly juggling all the responsibilities on her own, all of them underappreciated and unfortunately stuck with him.

“Beautiful family,” He commented, eyes flashing to the door just as it opened to reveal Penny and the aide. He returned the photo and pulled out his wallet from his pocket by its chain. Eddie flashed the photo inside to Neil, who immediately looked like he was going to shit himself. The photo was of you sitting on the couch, Wayne sitting between your legs and Penny standing on the cushion next to you, clutching your shoulder as you all smiled for him.

Eddie slipped the wallet back into his pocket, and just as Penny began to run over, he leaned in to whisper like Neil had earlier, “Here’s what’s gonna happen: you're not ever gonna talk to my wife again or I’ll fuck you up. If you so much as look in her direction, I’ll kill you. If you think about her, I’ll beat you 'til the bones of my knuckles break through the skin. I’ll make sure you experience pain like you’ve never felt before. Bones can heal, but I promise you they don’t grow back, you pathetic fucking worm. You don’t deserve your wife, who gave you four fucking beautiful children, and you don’t deserve your kids, either. If I ever see her in public, I’m gonna tell her that so you’d better start appreciating her now. I’ve got a friend who wants a ton of kids and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me sending him their way. Got it?” Neil, good ol’ clammy, pale faced Neil swallowed hard and silently nodded as Penny finally reached him, arms already outstretched. Eddie swooped her up before she ran into him, relishing in the way her arms wrapped tightly around him in a hug. And this fucker was annoyed to have four little people who gave him these.

“Hi, sweet pea! Daddy’s just gonna finish up this conversation with Neil here and we’ll head home to mama, okay?”

Penny nodded eagerly, turning her head to stare inquisitively at the man she knew was her friend Izzy’s dad.

Eddie took Penny’s backpack off of her with her help and slid it over his free arm, “I’m glad we understand each other, Neil. And if we don’t, my buddy Steve’s on speed dial.”

He smirked as he walked away, leaving Neil both dumbstruck and terror stricken. Eddie didn’t even stop when he recalled a small inaccuracy Neil had mentioned, calling over his shoulder, “And we have two kids!”

What a jerk.

“Tell me about your day?” Eddie asked as he slid open the backseat door and leaned forward so Penny could climb into her booster seat. “Oh, boy, daddy! It was long! First, teacher said we were gonna draw with crayons but she change-ed her mind and we got to paint with our fingers instead!” She displayed her clean, paint free fingers for him as Eddie buckled her in, “Oh, yeah? Did you paint me a picture?” “Yeah, ‘s in my pack pack. But we only gotted to paint for a little while ‘cause Stanley tried to eat it.” “Not again, Stanley.” “I know!” Penny filled him in the rest of the drive home, while he got her out of her seat, the entire walk into the apartment building, only stopping when he opened the door for her and she caught sight of you. “MOMMY!” She let go of Eddie’s hand to run into your waiting arms. “Hi, baby! Did you have a good day at school?” You asked after you’d gotten in a good cuddle squeeze. “Uh huh! I painted with my fingers!” Penny ran back to Eddie and dug around in the backpack now dangling at his side until she retrieved a very poorly folded piece of thick paper. “I gotta show Waynie, first!” She bypassed you and ran straight for her baby brother, who was clutching the seat cushion of the couch and bobbing up and down. He’d be walking any day now. Eddie set Penny’s yellow backpack down on the counter as he closed the distance between you, arms wrapping around your middle to pull you flush up against him. “I don’t know how you do it, they make you wait forever.” He groaned, pressing his forehead to yours as you laughed. “It’s not that bad!”

“Yeah, well, regardless, you should be having a much easier time picking her up.”

It was easy for you to read between the lines and pick up his real meaning. Your eyes widened in surprise for a moment before they softened, and you leaned further into him, hands resting on Eddie’s shoulders. “Thank you.” You’d been afraid to mention the invasive and unwelcome attention you’d gained from one of the dads. Ashamed. He’d been vulgar, blatant and creepy. Even on the days he wouldn't approach you, you could still feel his eyes on you, on your body. It made you feel gross and cheap, even though you hadn’t done anything wrong. You’d politely tried to get away from him when you’d find yourself in that situation, but where you went, he followed. Soon, you’d begun waiting in your parked car until Neil left, and when that wasn’t good enough, you’d either go home and wait until just before they closed–which you hated because you didn’t like to keep Penny waiting there when she could be at home–or wait in the parking lot at work until you’d make it when all the other kids were mostly gone. It was draining, and made you dread the end of the work day.

“You never have to thank me,” Eddie leaned down just as you leaned up to kiss him, mouths mingling a little more on the wet side since you knew neither of your kids’ attention was on you. When you finally broke away, Eddie licked his lips and sighed. “Seriously, though. I don’t know how you do it. Men are gross and creepy, I wanted to deck him before he even really said anything. And what he did say–ugh. Let me know if you see his head turn in your direction, honey, ‘cause I made a promise I’m eager to not break.” You hummed appreciatively as you leaned up for more kisses, “My hero.”

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lanawinterscigarettes · 3 months ago

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Hi it's me again 😔 kinktober req perchance?

Steve Harrington with sex pollen prompt? I don't know suthn freaky with the demodog lair keeps popping up in mind. Sorry to keep bombarding you with requests HAHAH hope you're well :>

- 🌝

it's not a problem, I love all the requests you send me 🥰 this reminded me that I've never actually written somthing for him before, which is kind of crazy?? that being said I love this idea and hope it turned out okay, I wrote this with a transmasc reader too since you asked for one with your other kinktober request. thanks for sending something in <3

(also just a disclaimer creative liberties were taken when writing this so the story would flow better and the plot would make more sense)

Kinktober 2024 Day 12: sex pollen with Steve Harrington x transmasc reader

Warnings: smut/nsfw content, sex pollen, slight bondage via tentacles, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (please use condoms irl), brief implied Nancy x Robin

The Upside Down was like something out of horrific nightmare. It gave a glimpse into what life would be like if Vecna was able to take things over, which why it was crucial for your plan to destroy his physical form to work.

After wandering through the disturbing woods for what seemed like forever, you finally managed to come across the place you were looking for. Dustin and Eddie warded off the hellish bats, which gave you, Steve, Nancy, and Robin the opportunity of doing your part by searching for Vecna.

Creel House was even more eerie and disturbing in the alternate dimension, which certainly didn't help to ease your already spiked nerves in the slightest. The vines (or tentacles, rather) that were covering the floor made things even worse, because you knew if you made one wrong move they'd be on you in an instant.

While the tentacles in the lair were gross looking, they were also strangely erotic, from their length and girth to the squelching noises they made as they moved around. You tried to keep your thoughts as clean and sex-free as possible as you carefully manuevered yourself over and around them, hopping from one place to another as you did your best not to fall.

Our goal is destroying Vecna and saving Hawkins, you reminded yourself every time your mind started slipping into the gutter. Not fraternizing with what looks like a bunch of over-sized sex toys.

Everything seemed to be going as planned until something started to shake the house, causing what could only be described as some kind of mini earthquake. Naturally, this disturbed the tentacles, which led them to attack.

Some of them grabbed Robin and began dragging her in one direction while others grabbed Steve and dragged him the opposite way. You and Nancy split, her chasing after Robin at the same time you were trying to grab Steve.

"Steve!" You cried out in a panic, using your makeshift spear to stab at the tentacles in hopes it would injure them enough to let him go. They writhed around in agony at the feeling, though you noticed when you stabbed them they started to give off this sickeningly sweet type of odor.

Thinking nothing of it, you kept stabbing, hoping it would be enough to get them to let him go. Eventually they were hacked up to the point where they were far too weak to keep him restrained, forcing them to loosen their grip.

"Are you okay?" You asked while helping him up, noting that he seemed to be a little dizzy, which was odd given that he hadn't really done anything to warrant feeling lightheaded.

"Y- Yeah, I think so," he breathlessly responded, his eyes looking a little cloudy for some reason when you looked at them.

Before you could question him further, you began to feel dizzy yourself, your own vision blurring as a rush of heat spread through your body and buried itself deep within you. The only thing you could seem to focus on at that moment was Steve. His body, his eyes, his voice-

It was then that you realized what was going on. Whatever it was the tentacles sprayed you with must've included some kind of aphrodisiac that was absorbed through the skin, which meant-

Oh, God. Now was really not the time for this of all things to be happening.

"Steve," you began in a slightly shaky voice. He picked up on your nervous tone in an instant, though it was hard for him to think properly when he was going through the same physical reactions you were.

"I- I think we should do something about this," he suggested, his voice low and sultry without even meaning to be. Or maybe that was just you hearing things due to your sudden burst of horniness.

"We can't, we have to go do something about Vecna," you lightly protested, although you knew it was no use. Your legs had grown shaky and weak, causing you to cling onto him for support.

In the meantime, the tentacles had come back while you were both distracted, though they didn't seem nearly as hostile as before. If anything, they were docile, almost affectionate, as if the scent they'd left behind on you make them much more peaceful. Despite this, their intentions weren't entirely innocent, as they'd started to travel up your body, searching for the warmth of your arousal.

"I really don't think we have much of a choice," Steve remarked, his cock already painfully hard in his pants. You weren't faring much better, as your underwear was practically soaked by now.

"As- As long as we're quick about it," was all you could manage to get out before your mouth met his in desperation, your hands moving to grab at his clothes as you pressed your body as close to his as possible.

He was just as eager, his hands finding their way to your hips in a need for contact. Even if you wanted to pull away, you couldn't, as the tentacles had now fully wrapped themselves around you. It wasn't enough to stop your blood flow or anything like that, but you were definitely unable to go anywhere as they'd successfully restricted your movements.

"Oh, Steve," you moaned out his name as his lips traveled down your neck, your fingers lacing through his hair. Every touch the two of you shared seemed to leave behind sparks, his mouth feeling like a red hot iron that was branding your skin.

Somehow during this, you'd moved down onto the floor, the tentacles seeming to swaddle you as you did. Your clothes were quickly pulled off and discarded as the both of you became more and more needy, your actions bordering on primal. Your nails dug into his skin, leaving visible scratches going down his back at the same time that his teeth sunk into the tender flesh of your shoulder.

By the time his cock had finally found its way to your aching hole, you were already dripping wet, like a faucet that hadn't been turned off properly. The mixed sounds of your combined pleasure filled the air as he sunk deep within you, your back arching up off the ground as you threw your head back.

It was hard to tell how long you were there for. It could've been seconds, it could've been hours. You were much too focused on the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you at an animalistic pace to be sure.

Orgasm after orgasm tore through your body, and if you weren't so caught up in the moment you would've recognized this for what it really was: a distraction to keep you away from finding Vecna and destroying him. Eventually, however, both you and Steve began to run out of steam, the combination of exhaustion and overstimulation getting to you.

Beads of sweat covered your body, your eyes hooded as you felt him empty yet another load of his sticky seed inside you. Neither of you were thinking clearly enough to remember that it'd be better if he didn't cum inside you, which left you feeling abnormally full.

It took everything in him not to collapse on top of you once he was finally finished, his limbs looking as weak and shaky as yours were. A quiet whimper exited you when he pulled out, his cock softening again after what seemed like ages.

He slowly helped you get redressed, and you helped him do the same, trying to be careful so you wouldn't disturb the pile of tentacles that laid nearby. They'd become bored after the second or third round and had taken to leaving you alone, but you still didn't want to risk waking them back up again.

You stumbled out of the room you'd been in as you went to reconvene with Robin and Nancy, who looked as though they'd been through the exact same thing you had. Their clothes were wrinkled, their hair was messed up, and you could see a few hickeys peeking out of the collar of their shirts. You had no doubt you and Steve looked about the same.

Nancy awkwardly cleared her throat, avoiding eye contact as she shifted back and forth on her feet. "So, uh- should we...?" She gestured towards the staircase, to which Steve nodded his head in response.

"Yeah, let's."

The four of you began to make your way through the house yet again, a certain kind of tension in the air full of unasked questions with equally unspoken answers. None of you decided to say what had taken you so long to meet up again, and you didn't need to. It was fairly obvious.

Who knew the Upside Down could bring you as much pleasure as it could fear?

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suugarbabe · 1 year ago

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You are SO amazing love, never let anyone tell you any different. I WILL fight them 😤

Tysm for considering wolfstar!daughter, i think youd enjoy the current fics that are currently out for it. Most of them are x fred or george and it just reminds me of you everytime.

Sorry, this is probs going to be long 😬

For the prompt though, i imagine they came about reader when remus found her on a full moon as a toddler werewolf, abandond in the forest (last yr hogwarts or graduated doesnt matter, whatever you decide) and when Sirius finally finds Remus the next morning he's shocked, confused, and then melts. Big, tall, broard Remus has this small bundle of cuteness wrapped in his sweater trying to cuddle into him.

Whether youd like to continue on from there or do reader growing up or a time skip is up to you. Same as if James dies or not, whatever your brilliant mind decides 🧡 but if it helps this is how i see the family dynamic:

I think Sirius would be the overprotective kind of dad, never failing with that wonderful sense of dramatics!

While Remus is the calm voice of reason that talks himself down when he feels like he might be going a little overboard.

Of course we're Uncle Reggies little star, he will be mean to another child if they hurt you. He and James are constantly arguing over who's the better uncle.

James is the uncle that gives you alcohol illegally and doesnt adhere to a curfew.

So skip to hogwarts in some of the last years (im a ravenclaw so i always imagine reader as a ravenclaw but anyhouse would be fun to explore) and reader makes it official with Theo or Enzo. Harry's a tattle tale and tells his dad who then brags to Reggie, who the apparats him self the Sirius' to demand answers because "who was this vile thing that dared touch his star?? Boyfriend?!?! Fucking over his dead body!!" Fully expecting Sirius to agree with him. But he doesnt, he just sighs because at least they made it til 6th/7th yr before boys started, he'll give the poor boy a chance first. And then Remus bursts in and has a full meltdown. Thats his little wolf; his baby. She can have a boyfriend. A BOYFRIEND!?! He might puke. No this isnt allowed. Boys are gross. And nasty. And theyre going to hurt her. But not before he hurts them!! He's going to put the fear of godric into this boy! RIGHT NOW!! Wheres his wand? He needs to go to Hogwarts.

Its so unexpected that both Black brothers are frozen. Until Remus starts searching for his wand and Sirius has to calm him down while Regulus goads him on. And through all of it, reader and Enzo/Theo were standing at the door to 'meet the parents'.

And then however you want it to go from there love! So sorry that was soo long and rambely. Of couese no pressure to write it and take whatever creative liberties youd like!!

Thank you love x

The group had made an agreement that the girls would all get a flat together, as would the boys. So naturally Sirius, James and Remus planned and found one for themselves that was 'absolutely perfect' as Sirius put it since it back right up to a large patch of woods; 'Perfect for you, Moony'.

In the moment Remus had rolled his eyes, but truly he was thankful. By the last full moon of school, Remus had managed to transform back to himself without completely passing out. After the fourth full moon in the flat, Remus was able to still decently function after his transformations.

What neither Sirius nor James expected happened and they didn't know how to react initially. Sirius and James had lost sight of Remus toward the end of the night, now both transformed back to themselves looking for him.

When Sirius found him, he didn't expect the scene he walked upon. Remus shoulders were hunched over, and at first Sirius thought he was crying. But the closer he got, he realized it was not Remus making those noises, but...a child?

"Moony...what the bloody hell is that," Sirius voice was cautious, he was still convinced he might be hallucinating.

Remus turned around slowly, "She's like me, Pads. She...she was a tiny little wolf, I swear it." Sirius was skeptical, but the way Remus was looking down at you, every doubt was melting away. The way your tiny hands gripped on to Remus's sweater.

When Sirius got close enough, you reached out for him, and he was done for. When James caught up with the pair he had the same initial reaction. But like Sirius, one look at you and he was also convinced.

It had taken the girls no time to swoon after you, and the boys were forever grateful. While Remus declared himself your father (Sirius demanding his was Dad number 2). James became your fun uncle (funcle as he called himself, Lily rolling her eyes each time).

To say it had taken a village was not just a cliché, but reality. Sirius was every over protective father, having a flair for the dramatics any time anything happened, good or bad. Remus was more calm, essentially the voice of reason when Sirius was talking circles. You eventually became the perfect mix of the two, which they both loved.

When you got your Hogwarts letter Sirius threw a party, Remus thinking it was a little over the top but Sirius insisted, "Our little star got her letter, we're celebrating Moony." Regulus had brought you off to the side, insisting you owl him if anyone is mean to you, he'll come and fix it, "Even if it's another little twat kid, you let me know, okay Star?"

After fourth year, James let you try his beer for the first time. Sirius lost his mind, Remus reminded Sirius how much worse he was at your age and that if James was letting her try it that it was a better situation than he used to get in to.

What you didn't expect was the commotion that ensued during Christmas holiday seventh year. It was tradition for you and your dads to throw a party on Christmas Eve. You were putting the final touches on the Christmas biscuits you usually made when a loud pop sounded in the living room.

"SIRIUS GET YOUR ARSE IN HERE NOW!" The voice of Regulus rang throughout your house and you instantly froze. Sirius sauntered in, not bothered by his younger brothers tone, "Seriously, with the shouting Reg, what is it now?"

Regulus looked over Sirius shoulder at you in the kitchen before turning back to his brother, "How could you let her, huh? How could you let her do this, with a Slytherin no less? My little star? Who is this vile snake you've let touch our little girl, a boyfriend, Sirius, really?"

You held your breath, fully expecting your dad to lose it, go full on dramatics, but instead he just pinched the bridge of his nose, "Honestly, Reg, calm down. I'm surprised it took us till seventh year for her to finally decide to get a boyfriend, don't get me wrong, I'm thankful," he turned pointing at you, "but I trust her, Reg. And you should too. She's not like us. Really though, darling, a Slytherin?"

Sirius turned to face you and all you could muster was a shrug of your shoulders before your father burst in. "WHAT did I just hear? My wolf has a WHAT? With a WHO? Darling are you mad, who is this boy? A boyfriend? Oh my Godric, I think I'm going to be sick. Who is he, star? Who, tell me now. I'm getting my wand. Sirius, my wand now."

Remus held out his hand expectantly, but nothing happened. Both Regulus and Sirius stood frozen, mouths agape at Remus's reaction before a sly smirk crawled its way onto Sirius's features, "Oh my my, Moony, this is a sight."

At that moment the Potter's all appeared, the air obviously thick with tension. James looked between his friends, "Oi, what did we miss?"

When you saw Harry you were instantly enraged, your inherant traits from Sirius coming in to play, "You little fucking rat, you weasel, you knew I was going to tell them over break, how could you tell Reggie before I could tell my parents, I'll hex you Potter, I swear it!"

You started after Harry, only for James's strong arms to lift you up by the waist and hold you tight, "Woah there, mini Sirius, calm down. I think this might be my fault. Harry told me out of concern and I might have boasted about your feats to Reggie."

You went slump in your Uncle's grasp, "Uncle Jamie...how could you." You were pouting as he sat you down, giving you a tight hug, "I'm sorry, star, I was just so dang proud of you."

You looked over at your parents, Sirius now rubbing Remus's back who was pinching the bridge of his nose. There was a knock on the door, causing everyone's attention to switch towards the distrubance.

Walking towards the door, you looked back with your hand on the handle, "Be nice." The marauders and Harry held up their hands in defense, Regulus crossed his, "No promises."

When you opened the door, Enzo stood there, cheeks slightly pink. "Erm, are you sure it's okay for me to be here?" You laughed slightly out of embarrassment, "How much did you hear exactly?"

"Enough to know I'm more afraid of Professor Lupin than Sirius," he whispered as he followed you through the door.

"Dad, Father, this is Enzo. My boyfriend," You gestured toward Enzo who gave a shy wave.

Remus placed his hand on his own chest, "Oh thank god it's Berkshire. I was really worried, star dear. Really worried. Thought maybe it was going to be the Nott boy."

This caused both you and Enzo to laugh, Enzo speaking up finally, "Merlin, no, sir. Nott's afraid of Y/n actually. So you've done a good job."

"Don't start kissing ass just yet, Berkshire," Regulus stuck a finger out at the boy.

"Uncle Reggie. Behave," you scolded him like a child, he looked down at the floor like one, too.

Sirius stepped forward, extending his hand, "So sorry, my boy. I'm Sirius, Y/n's father. You've met Moony, erm, Professor Lupin, her dad. He's sorry for anything you may have heard through the door."

Enzo grabbed his hand, shaking it firmly, "It's alright, sir. It's a pleasure to meet the men who've raised such a strong woman." Enzo smiled at you affectionately, causing you to blush in front of your family.

"Look at that, Moons. Our little star is growing up," Sirius wiped a faked fear, while Remus was holding back real ones.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose like your dad had done earlier, "Alright, who's hungry, hmm? Shall we eat?" You led Enzo towards the large table. Everyone followed suit, both Regulus and Remus grumbling slightly.

As you sat down, Enzo gave your thigh a squeeze. He leaned over and whispered in your ear, "Star, huh? That's cute." You side-eyed him, giving him a slight glare, "You tell anyone, you're a dead man."

Enzo grinned to himself, "It'd be an honor to die by your hands, love."

Across the table, Sirius gave Remus's thigh a squeeze, "She's growing up, Moons. Our little star." Remus nodded, pouring himself some brandy, "That she is, Pads. Our little wolf is a woman now." Sirius scoffed, "She still needs us though right?" Remus nodded, smiling, "We'll always be there for her."

#wolfstar!reader #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire x you #dad!remus lupin #dad!sirius black #harry potter #uncle!james potter #enzo berkshire fluff #golden era

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v3nusxsky · 2 years ago

Note

so i saw you have no Nat request but was wondering if could do wanda and Nat x freader smut with these prompts

48.“Watch your mouth...”

19. “I swear to god I’ll fuck the brattyness out of you till you can’t walk…”

60“You broke the rules…”

with dom Nat and wanda bratty reader

maybe they’re all out at like a bar for a celebration of some sorts and R feels like little left out because Nat and Wanda are talking to each other and barely including her in the conversation so she decides have a little attitude with them . this just gets r less in the conversation so she gets up and sits next to some other girl and fake flirts with her this catches Nats eye . which leads them to take R home and give her reminder of the rules ;)

(aka punishment)

if not Wanda and Nat then just Nat would be fine

if you do this and do the both can Nat be the slightly like harsher one and Wanda not like a completely soft dom but is not as harsh as Nat can be

hope have a lovely day

i love your writing especially “needy puppy”

Bratty Baby 18+

*Authors note~I took a lot of creative liberties here with this one so I hope that's okay and that you'll enjoy it*

Trigger warnings~ dp dom Wandanat sun brat r g!p Nat enchanter strap on wanda harsh dom Nat slight soft dom Wanda, overstimulation kink teasing dildos Voyeurism punishment Dacryphilia size kink voice kink oral fixation mommy and daddy kink smut smut smutttt

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

Tony was always throwing parties after every successful mission, you never knew why. Perhaps he wanted to flash the cash and his success but you liked to think his love language is showering you all with gifts and parties to celebrate achievements the team made. You love dressing up for your girlfriends, allowing them to take in your outfits always led to a fun night. The team knew of your relationship dynamics, but had never once questioned either of your girlfriends, probably because they could kick the rest of the teams ass without even braking a sweat.

Normally you'd be hanging off one of their arms all night, but tonight they seemed to be immersed in one another's company. It was like you were third wheeling in your own relationship and for the first time you felt jealousy towards them both. They very rarely included you in their conversations, you didn't know much about it. You tried to show them your hurt at their ignorance but they seemed unfazed by your clear upset. That's when your plan formed. If they wouldn't give you attention then you'd go find someone who will.

Truly you didn't know how it happened but it did, you were leant up against the bar nursing a drink while carol tried to poorly flirt with you, asking about a scar you'd gotten a year ago. You weren't interested at all, very in love with your girlfriends but you could practically feel Natasha glaring in your direction so you fed into it. Fake flirting with Carol seemed to grab the attention of both women so you weren't surprised when both of them came to you. Natasha behind you sneaking a hand to your head while Wanda stood between you and Carol. A little whimper escaped you at the tug to your hair. "Dekta, why don't you let Carol go enjoy her night you are done" she murmured to you eyeing Carol dangerously causing her to flee.

"Draga, you know better than to whore yourself out" Wanda purred causing you to retaliate, "I bet Carol would fuck me right!" The mumble caught by both women causing Nat to rage on and Wanda to worry. "Nat, you're hurting me" you whimpered as she dragged you back to your room with Wanda on your tails. "Nat honey, maybe you should calm down" Wanda tried as you were thrown into the bedroom. The two women began to converse, little did you know Wanda was trying to make Nats temper deflate a little for you. "You don't fucking want me know" you all but screamed at them.

"Watch your mouth you whore" Nat seethed stalking towards you like a animal hunting prey. "ljubezen" the softer one of your girlfriends warned, she meant business but was no where near as angry as Natasha. Natasha held your throat and slammed you into the wall, her lips roughly fighting with yours now. Wanda taking the free time to strip from her clothing while Nat marked up your exposed neck. "I swear to god I'll fuck the brattyness out of you till you can't walk." She growled before dragging you to the bed where Wanda laid spread and playing with her puffy cunt. "Go and eat mommy out, prove you can be a good slut for us."

Crawling onto the bed you immediately tried to kiss Wanda's soft thighs but Tasha forced your head into her cunt, "eat" she growled. Immediately, you began to give kitten licks to her soaking cunt, her clit being spoilt with attention before plunging your tongue into her tight little hole. "Oh fuck, baby yes there yes good girl" Wanda mewled causing Natasha to lean over to slap Wanda face, "she's nothing more than a worthless whore Wanda, do not make me punish you too." Tears sprang in wandas eyes, "oh dekta you look so pretty when you cry, daddy doesn't mean to take her anger out on you. This slut is the one who should get it. Don't you agree?" A yes was squealed as you managed to throw the witch over the edge and fuck her through it.

Natasha once again tugged you up by your hair to spin you around and thrust her hard veiny cock into your tight throat. "Make this wet for daddy slut" was all she offered before thrusting into you. Wanda took the time to calm her body and strap up and enjoy the show. "Natty" Wanda whined when she was ready, "let me have a turn." That was how you found yourself sucking Wandas strap happily while Nat edged you with your aching clit.

Once both women had enough you were immediately positioned on all fours, Natasha lining her self up with your hips to hold them steady. Wanda teasing your folds with the head of the strap, "oh yes baby so wet for mommy"she purred before thrusting in. "Mommy no big too big" you whimpered causing Natasha to smack your ass in warning, "you'll take it, mommy wants to stretch out your fuck hole to make sure you can take daddy's cock." Natasha helped you fuck yourself onto Wandas dick as she stretched out your walls. "Oh god mommy! Daddy! Wanna cum" you mewled.

"Cum my whore" Wanda purred happily as she was approaching her edge too. A rough thrust had you both tumbling over that edge together. "Mine" the red headed Russian growled practically ripping you off Wands dick and thrusting into you from behind. The sheer size of her dick stretching you more than Wanda had. "Mommy it hurts make her stop" you cried hoping she'd take pity on you. "You broke the rules baby" Wanda reminded before completely ignoring the pleas and cries for her to help you.

Nat is a passionate lover but her temper flared often making it hard for her to know when to stop. "Wands look the pretty slut is crying. Look at how beautiful she looks taking me Wanda" Nat panted with every rough thrust, "the more you cry dolly the more I want to ruin you." You'd lost count how many times you came around her cock, the pleasure and pain dizzying. "Stop stop please daddy I can't" you whined, only to be shut up by Wanda popping her breast into your mouth, "shhh baby here suck on mommy."

Natasha happily filled you to the brim as you screamed around Wandas nipple. When she finally slipped from your now gaping hole you could see the mixture of both your cum seeping from your own hole onto the bed. Trying to catch your breath you noticed Wanda slipping underneath your body and Nat repositioning her already hard cock. You weren't even sure how two cocks could fit into your small cunt but these two lovers were determined to make them fit. "Oh look at the cock slut wands, taking both our dicks into your needy cunt"

Natasha shoved two fingers into your mouth as they both pounded into you, it was awkward at first but they soon found a rhythm to overstimulate your poor puffy cunt. Tears streaming like a raging river, you continued to moan and whine as you came around their dicks again and agains. Your orgasm causing you to clamp around them like a vice. Making them cum became the ultimate goal, and when you achieved that you tapped out immediately, the pain now outweighing the pleasure.

Both women flipped like a switch into caring and loving, making sure you were cared for and loved, cleaning up and cuddling with your exhausted body while they whispered words of praise and love until you all drifted off to sleep.

Word count~ 1552

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #wandanat x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda marvel #wandanat x reader smut #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wandanat x y/n #mommy wanda #natasha marvel #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha romanov #nat x you #natahsa romanoff

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paymechildsupport · 9 months ago

Text

Puppet Boy // Suguru Geto x M!Cursed!Reader

In which: Reader is a cursed ‘puppet’, a product of another Cursed User’s CT that happens to end up in Geto's grasp.

-!! M!Reader (usage of the word, 'boy'), -- AMAB --> Reader as a dick (creative liberties can be taken though for any non-dick havers 😋)

--------

-!! explicit warnings: oral / praise / degradation / dacryphilia / coming in pants / shoe grinding

——✩‧˚︶꒦꒷꒷

'You were created to be used as a puppet, a tool of mass destruction. The creation of the same people that were the higher ups of Jujutsu Tech, (a government bio weapon, essentially) You were a masterpiece, on the road to becoming the most powerful cursed entity in the modern day of Jujutsu. However, once ‘refinements’ were beginning to be made you couldn’t help but question yourself, — your masters. You began to question: ‘why?’ Why must you follow their orders? Why must you accept sleeping on the cold floor while they get the nice beds? Why do you eat only scraps while they massive feasts? Why must you go back in your cage once your need for use is up while they get nice houses, nice beds,— nice lives?

You despised: and just as you began to refine your sense of self, your human consciousness— did they make a move to destroy you. Scrap you. You were a failed prototype,— a being that got just a lil’ too human for their comfort.

But you had just gotten your consciousness, and you’d be damned if you’d just lie there and let them take it away from you.

So you ran, shattered your chains,— and sprinted as fast as you could from jujutsu society.

And you ran, and ran and ran and ran and ran and ran,— far, far away. So far, in fact, you managed to find yourself in the domain of the most wanted man alive; ‘The Most Dangerous Curse User’— Suguru Geto.

He was entranced, completely infatuated with your existence, and charmed by your burning hatred for the same higher ups as he had.

Geto had to have you,— and you were half certain he would turn you into a nice compacted orb and swallow you whole— he sure looked like he wanted to. Yet he didn’t.

He had other plans for you…

——✩‧˚︶꒦꒷꒷

You choke pathetically, letting out a strangled whimper. The noise only prompts Geto to grab your hair harder, yanking your head upwards to meet his smirking face, a smug look plastered.

“You’re doing so good pretty darling,” he cooed, rich saccharine voice pushing you closer and closer to the edge, “c’mon, isn’t this what you were made for? To be used for?” His tone turned slightly condescending, only making your raging erection throb if anything.

How did you get here: a shiny tool, made by the greatest sorcerers of the century, a weapon of mass destruction, turned into a fleshlight by the most wanted man in the world?

Your determination to live, despite being scrapped and left for dead by your masters, sparked something within Suguru Geto. Something he had only ever seen in himself. He had to admit, the moment he laid eyes on you he had been dreaming of this, and not just as a ‘fuck you’ to those insufferable, monkey sympathizing higher-ups, —(well, maybe a big part of it was that— for both him and you)— but that so similar look of pure hatred and malice that Geto had only ever seen in the mirror caused something to stir. It seemed his teenage hormones had finally caught up with him.

You were left in nothing but your boxers, grinding pathetically on the Cursed User’s shoe. You were already soaking, as he was very aware.

“Fuck, oh just like that….— ha…., good boy” he groaned, the praise going straight to your cock. You moaned in response, the vibrations of your throat against his dick were almost enough to send Geto flying over the edge.

He paused, his iron grip slightly loosening on your head. You look up questioningly through your teary lashes, his cock still hanging in your mouth, rock hard.

Geto inhales sharply, “ha… did.. I say you could stop..?” His glare sends a shiver down your spine, “useless puppet, can’t even do a simple task on his own without orders from his master” he sneers, fisting a handful of your hair once again, this time moving your head up and down himself.

Your body went slack, pure bliss pumping through you to be used in such an erotic way. You grind yourself harder against his sandaled foot, abs flexing as you strain to milk as much pleasure as possible. A wet spot already forming on your boxers.

Geto was so close, his cock twitched uncomfortably in your mouth, precum crying from his tip, pooling and dribbling down your chin. He groaned at the absolute filth of the act, only turning him on even more, his movements sped up.

“What a good little whore,” he huffed, “just imagine the look on your masters’ faces if they were to ever see their— fuck,... hah… — tool used as a mere pleasure toy for such a disgraced individual such as myself….” his movements grew rapid as dirty talk and filthy words continued to flow from his lips, “huff, — they would be absolutely .. revolted at you whoring yourself out to me,..-- hah… hah,.... - my good, — good, boy” he moved at a grueling pace, desperately fucking himself into your mouth.

Your moans were almost pornographic, nearly causing Geto to paint your throat white right there. He carefully angled his foot upwards, hitting your obsessive rutting right on your prostate. You gasp as you come, hard, – soaking his throbbing cock even more with your spit as you choke. You look up with worship through your hooded, lust clouded eyes, tears streaming down your face.

You might just be the most beautiful thing Geto has ever seen. He’s never wanted someone else in such a way, but now, it dawned that he wanted you so much more passionately and desperately than any other person or worldly possession.

“Holy fuck,... baby, my beautiful baby-,” the praises tumble from his mouth before he even knew what he was doing, his mind turning to mush from how fucking well you took him. You really were made just for him.

“God, you… gasp… you—“ Geto starts to slur like a drunk, “I didn’t even need to touch you, and you, - ha-... came– aha.. Ah~.. - all on your own… g-god you’re so fucking perfect… mmmhmmmm~... my perfect, perfect little — oooOOH~.”

Geto is sent over the edge, moaning lewder than a fucking pornstar, his white hot cum shooting down your throat and painting your mouth white. You take it all, eagerly lapping him down, milking him for every last drop. Geto can only watch you in awe as you swallow every drop, some dribbling out of your mouth and down to your chin, mixing with heaps of your drool.

He huffs in amusement, reaching out and wiping your chin with his thumb.

God, you really were made for him, almost like it was prophesied and written in the stars.

“Fuck,.... did they make the biggest mistake letting you go, .. my pretty puppet. You’re mine..

… all mine.”

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

[A/N]: I had this is my drafts for a while so it's lowkey kinda old, -- still really like the idea of a cursed 'puppet' though: a curse that didn't stem from a human's negative emotions, -- but rather bioengineered by the higher-ups, -- who then went rogue / broke away after gaining consciousness. In this particular instance, the puppet was a very undercover top secret hush hush kinda thing, -- they didn't trust Gojo or really any of the other teachers -- but mainly Gojo, cuz well, he's a lil' goofball and who knows what kinda shenanigans he could get up to. (Plus, Geto would've been thinking of Gojo while smashing the puppet, you can't tell me otherwise 🥶

This was done at like 4am, -- I could definitely refine it a lot more -- lemme know if you want me to do more wit this. Like, have numerous characters x puppet!reader, -- I have a lot of ideas for Sukuna, Geto and Gojo (or even both, Satosugu).

( Srsly tho, i have a lot of ideas 🥶 just lmk :3 )

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indigosunsetao3 · 11 months ago

Note

Hey! Sorry I'm not sure if you're taking requests but there's this trend on tiktok where people are calling their boyfriends their husband and I thought it would be cute to see 141s reaction to the same🥰

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGey2YkXT/

Feel free to take creative liberties otherwise there's no pressure at all to do it! :)

I am definitely taking requests! It's fun to get different prompt/ideas and figuring out to make them work.

This is too cute! I was going to just do a list-type answer but then one thing turned into another and I had all sorts of scenarios running through my mind while at work. So, I took a little creative liberty. Some of them are acknowledging the trend, others are situational conversations.

Hope you enjoy! And you know I had to put Alex in 😘

Alex

It was the second time in a month that a stupid pipe burst. That’s what you got for insisting on buying a fixer upper in the coldest winter the area had seen in years. You had managed to get the water cut off before it completely flooded the whole downstairs then set about cleaning up the mess.

Alex had arrived to find you a frazzled mess as you mopped up the water when your phone rang. The plumber. Alex quickly handed you the phone before he went about mopping. The plumber couldn’t be there today, earliest it would be was Monday. You couldn’t be home that day.

Looking at Alex, who could hear the call, he nodded and mouthed he could be there.

“I won’t be here, but my husband will,” you say. It’s a slip of the tongue. Alex and you didn’t even live together yet but just calling him a boyfriend seemed so minuscule compared to how you felt.

Alex had instantly stopped mopping and watched you curiously. The plumber continued talking but you barely heard what he said. You could feel the burning red of embarrassment on your cheeks as you watched Alex's face for his reaction. This was not a conversation you were ready for. You had wanted to talk to him about it, soon, but not today.

“Right, okay. Yes, his name is Alex, I’ll send you his number,” you assure the man as you continue to stare at Alex. Alex had gone back to mopping but you saw the stupid happy grin on his face as he worked and a hint of a red tinge to his cheeks. Hanging up you set your phone on the counter and take a deep breath.

“Listen I didn’t mean,” you start but Alex leans the mop against the fridge and steps toward you, his feet splashing in the water a bit.

"Oh, I think you did mean it," he answers grabbing your hips. "And here I was thinking I was just your boy toy for home improvement."

"Hush," you answer still feeling the tingle of the blush that had gone up to your ears.

Gaz

Gaz insisted that you still do your monthly book club even though you protest, preferring to spend time with him. Him being home was a luxury and you had honestly started the online club as a way to pass lonely days counting down his return.

Leaning down you read the chat as people start joining. You grin at the number of people you managed to amass in the past few weeks. The beauty of online was anyone from anywhere could join. You had a few people from other countries even and always tried to set the meeting times to be accommodating for all.

After you all start talking and chatting about the book Gaz flops comfortably on the couch next to you handing you a glass of wine. He hadn't read the book but he was still interested in what you were doing so he peers at the screen, the side of his face visible to everyone for a fraction of a second.

It sends the chat into a tizzy. Everyone knew you had a significant other but they had never seen him. The comments are flying which makes you laugh before pointing a few out to Gaz who grins.

“They’re dying to know who you are,” you venture looking over at him. “Comfortable saying hello to my friends?” You raise your eyebrows and Gaz pauses before straightening his shirt in an exaggerated manner, preening himself. He nods and you turn the camera to face him so you are out of screen.

“Everyone this is Kyle,” you say grinning before tacking on, “my husband.” It was a joke, something you had seen people doing online as a trend.

It got his attention though. His eyes flick up to yours as the sounds of the chat pinging start going off tenfold. He's ignoring what people are saying, verbal and written, as his eyes rake over your face while you casually sip your wine staring back at him.

“My deepest apologies,” Kyle says after a moment as looks back at the camera while undoing the top button of his polo. “But I’m going to have to cut our session a little short. My wife,” he emphasizes the word as his eyes lock on yours, “and I have something to tend to.” He doesn’t give them a chance to respond before he snaps the laptop shut and all but chucks it on the recliner.

He’s on you in a moment, pinning you down into the couch as you giggle. “Husband?” He grins and you swear you see him glance at your empty ring finger.

Ghost

Simon wasn't a fan of pictures of himself if his face was visible. He has loads of you though, his camera roll was just random shots of you mixed in with work items and stupid memes from his team. But you barely had any casual pictures of him in return. The pictures were always of you holding hands, or you pressed up against his chest with his arms around you. He didn't mind taking pictures that way, always holding his pose for you until you got it just to your standards after the first or fifty tries. Photography made you happy and even if he was a bit self-conscious about it, he fed your hobby.

The few times you could get a picture of his face with his approval he always had his mask on, only his striking eyes were visible as he stared at you. It was fine, you understood why, but you missed looking at his face when he was gone.

So while you are at a local cafe, safely tucked into a back corner, and he takes off his mask you dare to snap a picture. His hood is up, the lower half of his face obscured by the cup but you could still see his light blond stubble on his jaw. The slight crook of his nose where it had been broken and not set properly years ago. Even a small glimpse of the corner of his lips which were a natural pink that made you envious.

"Love," Simon says quietly as he looks at you from over the cup.

"I'm sorry. The light in here was too good to pass up," you sigh and scroll to delete it, savoring it for a second as your thumb hovers over the trashcan icon. "I miss looking at my husband when you're gone," you explain as you hit the button and watch the picture wipe away.

"Husband?" Simon asks quietly as he sets down his cup and carefully pulls his hood forward a bit to make sure his profile is covered.

You don't answer as you look back up at him and set your phone on the table between you. Instead, you grab your own cup and stare right back at him. It was a joke you had seen online, see how your boyfriend reacts to the official title. You didn't expect much from it, maybe a laugh or a joke in response but he doesn't do either.

He instead reaches out to nudge your phone back toward your hand and cock his head to the side a bit. Then he smiles, a genuine heartfelt smile that sets your heart fluttering.

"Go on then," he says nodding his head at the phone. "One picture, just for you. From your husband," he smirks as you fumble for the camera in a rush.

Price

You snuck out of bed early that morning, having to creep quietly out of the room because John was such a light sleeper. It was his birthday and you were determined to give him some sort of a surprise. He always made sure your day was special, always took care of you, so it was your turn.

Shushing the dogs you set about making breakfast, careful to not bang the pans too loud, and diving for the kettle as it starts to whistle. It was a simple dish of eggs and bacon with hot tea, but John loved anything hot and homecooked. You had to shove the dogs outside before walking back up the stairs balancing everything carefully before hipping open the door.

"Damn it," you mutter as you see him half sitting up in bed smiling at you. "How long have you been up?"

"Mmm, since you tripped over your slippers," he answers with a small chuckle at your face. You thought you had gotten away with it, he hadn't even twitched as you cussed and caught yourself on the dresser. "You were so determined I didn't want to ruin it," he grins.

"One day I'll surprise my husband," you say with a sigh before setting his tea on the nightstand and the breakfast in his lap. He doesn't answer, doesn't move, as he looks at you. It seems you managed to surprise him after all as his eyebrows climb up toward his messy bed tousled hair.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have," you start back peddling. "It's just a joke my friends told me to try. It's all over social media, they did it with their boyfriends and thought it was funny." You explain as he slides the plate off his lap and sets it on the nightstand next to his tea.

"Do you think it's a joke?" He asks tilting his head to the side a bit, watching you get flustered and trip over your words. He's grinning now though as he crosses his arms over his bare chest waiting for you to get yourself out of your rambling.

"I mean the trend is a joke," you start, "but I mean if," you were making a mess of this.

"Sweetheart, I was ready to marry you after our second date. I am your husband, even if I haven't managed to get you down that aisle yet." He smiles and tugs you toward him as you attempt to reconcile how a simple joke had John confessing he'd had marriage on the brain for almost a year.

Soap

Another conference for work. At least this time you were able to bring Johnny along. You had forced your boss to agree to let you bring him even if it was only supposed to be for spouses. You told him it was either Johnny came or you wouldn't be there. You’d be damned if you were missing Soap’s short leave to sit in a stuffy room full of men praising their own egos ignoring you because you were a woman.

“Am I fancy enough to be here?” Johnny asks, a teasing smirk on his face. He was in a button down and slacks with a tie to match your cocktail dress for dinner.

“Plenty fancy,” you answer back smiling as you take his extended elbow. “Let’s get this over with,” you huff as you step on the elevator. A networking dinner with other people that were in your field and while it was better having Johnny here it was still not your favorite thing to do.

Johnny gently leaves you to go grab drinks while you stake out an empty table. It's not deserted for long before one of your coworkers stands right next to you at the high top giving you a once over. You had managed to avoid him all day but he had managed to spot you alone and swoop in out of nowhere.

“Who’s the guy?” He asks as he eyes Johnny at the bar striking up a genial conversation with the bartender. You really couldn’t take Johnny anywhere without him making friends. “I thought we were only allowed to bring spouses,” he tacks on. You had been fighting off Mark's advances for months, as politely as possible, but you'd had enough.

“John,” you answer coolly as you set your purse on the standing cocktail table. He didn’t get to call him Johnny. “And who says he isn’t my spouse?” You ask raising an eyebrow. He wasn’t your spouse, you weren’t even formally engaged, but to you Johnny was the one anyway.

“Says the lack of any ring,” he says pointing to your hand. He never took no for an answer, ignored you when you said you had a boyfriend. He was persistent and creepy but it was ending tonight.

“John,” you say as Johnny walks over to your other side with a beer and your vodka soda. He knows something is up, his eyebrow quirks at the use of the formality of his name. “I’d like you to meet Mark,” you gesture to him emphasizing the name because Johnny had heard all about him.

“Mark, meet my husband,” you say boldly.

If Johnny was shocked he didn’t let on. He just gently places a hand on your lower back before setting his beer down and extending the other to Mark to shake his hand. You can see him squeeze a bit too hard despite being jovial and kind. The conversation remains casual and a bit forced after that before Mark excuses himself.

Johnny doesn’t say anything about how you introduce him to everyone as your husband, just exchanges pleasantries in return. But you notice his hand never leaves your body in one way or another and he’s been grinning to himself the whole evening. Cutting his eyes to you with a shine to them every time you say husband and even stepping in himself to introduce himself as your husband to a few people.

“Husband, lass?” He asks once he gets you alone in the elevator.

“Sorry,” you mutter kicking off your heels to which he extends a hand to take them without you asking. “Mark just won't get the hint and I,” he cuts you off crowding you into the corner as the lift steadily rises.

“Don’t apologize,” he grins tilting your head up. “I like how it sounds.”

#asks #ask me things #cod #husband trend #alex keller cod #gaz cod #ghost cod #john price cod #soap cod #tf 141 x reader #fluffy

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quibllyfish · 8 months ago

Note

Hello! I was wondering if you might like to write either a set of hcs or small Drabbles for (pre-established relationship) Satan x MC? In which MC is shy, sensitive, quiet, likes helping around, maybe comes off as a pushover at times, gets flustered very quickly, and gets startled easily (or you can add/remove any of these if you’d prefer!). So a lot of the brothers think that MC wouldn’t even bat an eye towards Satan, yet on an Asmo night, while playing truth or dare, Asmo asks MC about their opinion on Satan. MC answers very bashfully saying he’s really admirable, he seems gentle and sweet. I’m very curious to see what the brothers think! You can add in any brothers you like for this Asmo night!

Have a lovely day!

౨ৎ﹒Satan x Reader : Late Nights With Strays．𝝑𝝔

﹕ An unlikely relationship begins to bloom between a lovely human and the avatar of wrath / 1102 word count

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა：❝—I mightve went a little overboard with this ask, but I couldnt help it! I am a SUCKER for an opposites attract trope, okay? I will admit that I did take some creative liberties with the prompt. Please enjoy!! And BTW! I did not proofread this at all, I hope it's readable ꒱ . . ♡

From the first day you arrived in the devildom ALL of the brothers realized you had a bit of… A faint heart?

Despite your attempts to put on a brave face and take the reins of a challenging situation, it was a bit obvious you were way out of your comfort zone. Shaking hands, a wavering voice, averting eye contact; you weren't aware of any verbal agreements on the matter, but it was safe to assume the brothers collectively decided the best way to ease you into life in the devildom was to tone down their very.. vibrant personalities.. and try their best to hold themselves back for a bit.

This effort admittedly did include trying to minimize your interactions with Satan as much as possible.

It wasnt that he was bad!! No! Perhaps it was just that they didnt desire their sweet, skittish human to be forever traumatized from witnessing Satan attempt to rip another demon limb from limb.

Eventually, however, these attempts proved fruitless. Even though you were easily coaxed into following directions, it became obvious (and annoying) that you were being ushered from place to place, shielded from experiencing the full extent of this new realm. In a small act of rebellion, you stayed up until you were pretty sure the rest of the house was asleep.

Wandering through the home's many rooms, eventually you find your way out the front door. Something you see in the distance makes you genuinely question whether or not this is a dream; surely that's not a certain green-eyed demon attempting to coax a cat out of the house of lamentation's flower beds?

When Satan notices you approaching, he's instantly in the middle of contemplating whether he should turn tail and immediately leave or question why you're out so late. Before a decision can be made, you're sat down in the grass, tempting the feline by swaying a plucked flower in its line of vision. To his surprise, it not only entertains the hunt, but after one foul pounce it decides to find a comfortable perch atop your lap.

" It must be very lonely, being such a tough kitty and braving the devildom alone, " You coo, scritching the cat's chin, " You're not mean though, no, you're a big softie! "

Remembering Satan's standing behind you, you crane your head towards him, " Look! I made a new friend! "

Perhaps.. You had just made two.

After that night, going out after the sun fell past the horizon to spend time with strays (and Satan) became a regular occurance. The mystery of why so many feral cats began roaming the area of the HOL was baffling to most, but the two of you basked in knowing it most definitely was due to your habit of feeding them late night snacks. Each feline eventually got a name, many after book characters. These nights with strays eventually were followed by late night walks, and eventually the walks were followed by Satan reading aloud to you in the comforts of his room.

Sometimes—and these nights were your favorite—you would doze off, leaning your head on his shoulder as he read. Only to find yourself tucked snuggly into your own bed the next morning. Often there would be a note on your bedside table, summarizing where the story last left off. It might've just been a dream, but you could've swore he kissed your forehead while you were half asleep.

As for the other brothers, they were none the wiser of you two's after dark expeditions. This is why tonight's game of truth or dare became so interesting.

Each avatar of sin (excluding Lucifer, who had no patience for silly matters such as living room sleepovers) sat in a circle with you on the floor of the living room. The activity? Truth or dare. Giggles lingered over the hilarity of the last dare, as Mammon was forced to down a deadly concoction of every condiment inside the fridge mixed together. To be honest, it seemed to even rival the horrors of Solomon's cooking.

As the turn fell to Asmo, a giddy smile tugged at his lips. He twisted to face you, taking your hand in his own, " So! What will it be? Truth? Or, are you brave enough to pick dare? I pinky promise I'll go easy on you! "

Whilst you felt inclined to make Asmo's day by choosing the latter, you did not feel so inclined to subject yourself to any sort of embarrassment. Tapping a finger to your lips, you feigned being lost in thought.

" Hm.. I think... I'll pick truth! "

The avatar of lust let out a whine, " And I had the perfect dare too..! Well.. The truth can be just as entertaining! This'll be juicy- so, tell me… What do you think of Satan? "

For a moment, the entire room fell silent. To everyone else, this was an obvious attempt to stir up drama- perhaps, Satan, with a bruised ego, might storm out angrily. Or worse..

Mammon groaned, " Dont make em'- "

You tutted, interrupting your greedy guard dog before he could even finish that thought. Glancing in Satan's direction, you could tell he was eyeing you with curiosity. In a way, it might've been a bit entertaining for him; like you both were in on an inside joke that his brothers were none the wiser to.

" Satan is, " you smile, looking down at your hands, " Well! He's- how do I put this.. I think getting to know him has been one of my favorite parts of moving here. "

The room, quite literally, was too stunned to speak, but the sparkle of interest in Asmo's eyes told you he wanted to know more.

" That might sound silly! But I honestly think- you know, and I dont wanna embarrass you, Satan- but you're really sweet! And… And you always try to make sure I feel comfortable and safe when we spend time together! Honestly, I think the devildom feels more like home whenever we hang out? Thats- geez, that's a dorky thing to say, "

Before everyone can erupt with complaints, Asmodeus squeals like a school girl, " This is SO cute! Awwwhh! My favorite human- and my little brother! Friends! So so unexpected, but so so cute! How did I not notice?? "

You're instantly pulled into a hug as Asmo gushes about how adorable you are, but you swear that you saw out of the corner of your eye- Satan's flushed face, adorned with a soft smile.

#Satan is one of my favorite characters #not exactly an ESTABLISHED relationship #but a forming one?#I might be a bit proud of this piece #writing tag #obey me x reader #obey me fic #satan x reader #lucifer obey me #satan obey me #mammon obey me #obey me asmodeus #mutual pining #obey me headcanons

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bomber-grl · 1 month ago

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౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ 1k Follower Celebration ! .°˖✧

-> ❤︎₊ ⊹ Thank you!

I just want to start off with thank you! I can’t even put into words the immense appreciation I feel for your continuous support and honor I feel whenever I’m complimented on my writing. I know I tend to have commitment issues and difficulties with completing reqs but the fact that you’re still here proves that I’m somewhat tolerable. (Lol) again, thank you so much for everything that amounted to this moment and I’ll never stop feeling grateful for the attention my hard work gets. I hope you enjoy this event, and if you have any suggestions for possible future ones then I’d be more than happy to hear them!

──── ୨ৎ ────

-> ❤︎₊ ⊹ Request requirements

When requesting all you need to do is include the trope you would like to be written, the character, the reader’s gender (e.g. Gn!), and preferably your expectations with the writing. If you’d like me to take creative liberties, then I’d be glad to do so!

NO Nsfw

-> ❤︎₊ ⊹ Character Writing List!

Click Here To View!

-> ❤︎₊ ⊹ Trope Prompt List!

Note: If there are any tropes you’d like me to write that aren’t here, please say what trope it is and explain it.

- Extra! Multiple tropes per fic are permitted, only if they’re applicable and don’t contradict one another, as well as if the requester explains how they’d like them to be applied (if more complex)

1. Enemies to Lovers

(Two characters start out as enemies or rivals but slowly develop romantic feelings for each other over time.)

2. Friends to Lovers

(Characters who have been friends for a long time eventually realize their romantic feelings for each other.)

3. Fake Relationship

(Two characters pretend to be in a romantic relationship for various reasons, only to find themselves falling for each other for real.)

4. Soulmates

(Two characters are destined to be together, often with a mystical or supernatural bond that cannot be broken.)

5. Opposites Attract

(Two characters with contrasting personalities or lifestyles are drawn to each other despite their differences.)

6. Slow Burn

(The romantic tension between two characters builds up gradually over time, often without them acting on it immediately.)

7. Billionaire/Wealthy Love Interest

(One character is incredibly rich and often powerful, while the other might be a commoner or an underdog.)

8. Love Triangle

(A character is torn between two potential love interests, leading to tension, drama, and often a difficult decision.)

9. Second Chance Romance

(Two characters who have previously been in a relationship get another chance to be together after some time apart.)

10. Hurt/Comfort

(One character is emotionally or physically hurt, and another character comforts them, leading to a closer bond.)

11. Amnesia

(A character loses their memory and must rediscover relationships, often leading to romantic confusion or misunderstandings.)

12. Time Travel

(A character is sent back or forward in time, leading to alternate timelines, paradoxes, and often romantic twists.)

13. Alternate Universe (AU)

(A story where the characters are placed in a different universe or reality, often leading to drastic changes in their personalities, relationships, or world dynamics.)

14. Royalty/Forbidden Love

(A character is involved in a relationship with someone deemed inappropriate due to their social status, often leading to secretive or dangerous liaisons.)

15. Revenge

(A character seeks revenge, either as a primary motivation or as a subplot that drives their actions.)

16. Bad Boy/Girl x Good Boy/Girl

(A rebellious or “dangerous” character falls in love with someone who is more wholesome or law-abiding.)

17. Arranged Marriage

(Two characters are forced into a marriage or partnership for political, social, or familial reasons, but over time they grow closer.)

18. Unrequited Love

(Unrequited love is one-sided romantic affection, not returned by the other person.)

19. Reincarnation

(Characters are reincarnated into new lives, often with memories of their past lives or relationships.)

20. Rags to Riches

(A character starts out poor or oppressed and eventually rises to wealth, power, or status, sometimes with a romantic subplot.)

21. Childhood Friends to Lovers

(Two characters who grew up together eventually realize their romantic feelings for one another as adults.)

22. Secret Identity

(A character hides their true identity (hero, royal, rich, etc.) from the other characters, leading to tension, humor, and eventual revelation.)

23. Bodyguard x Client

(A bodyguard falls in love with the person they’re protecting, often leading to intense drama and a danger-filled romance.)

24. Secret Admirer

(A character anonymously admires another, often leading to confusion, misunderstandings, or the eventual reveal.)

25. Supernatural/Paranormal Romance

(A character falls in love with a supernatural being (vampire, werewolf, ghost, etc.), leading to forbidden love and danger.)

26. Love at First Sight

(Two characters instantly fall in love upon meeting, often leading to a whirlwind romance with challenges to overcome.)

27. Falling for the Villain

(A character develops feelings for the antagonist, complicating the typical good-vs-evil dynamic.)

28. Tragic Romance

(A romance with a tragic or bittersweet ending, where love is unrequited or one character dies or sacrifices themselves.)

29. Insta-Love

(Two characters fall in love extremely quickly, sometimes without much buildup, often a point of tension or humor.)

30. Kiss of Death

(A kiss, typically from a villain or cursed character, has a fatal or dangerous consequence for the person kissed.)

31. Angst

(A story characterized by emotional conflict, often involving pain, sorrow, or inner turmoil among characters, usually leading to growth or resolution.)

32. Secret Relationship

(Two characters are in a relationship but must keep it hidden from others, often leading to tension and secretive behavior.)

33. Identity Swap

(Two characters switch places (either physically or metaphorically), leading to comedic or dramatic moments and a deeper understanding of each other.)

34. Love After Loss

(A character falls in love again after the death or departure of a previous lover, often dealing with grief and healing.)

35. Betrayal

(A character is betrayed by someone they trust, leading to emotional fallout, revenge, or character growth.)

36. Damsel in Distress

(A character (often female) is put in a vulnerable or helpless situation, where a hero rescues them, typically leading to a romantic bond.)

37. Beauty in the Beast

(A twist on the classic "Beauty and the Beast" where the "beast" is a misunderstood character or situation.)

38. Forced Proximity

(Don’t feel like giving description)

39. Only one bed

(Don’t feel like giving description)

+ Any More You Want To Request (see Request Requirements for more info)

—

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preciouslandmermaid · 2 years ago

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from below, gotham rots (battinson x f!reader)

Note: This takes place pre-movie and is a spiritual successor/sequel to the first fic "from high above" which you can find in this series. (Part 1 here)

Safety notes/Warnings: The Kinktober prompt included "drunk/stoned/under the influence." I used some creative liberty with this one and the Reader becomes affected by a drug that heightens her senses/physical senses (think like ecstasy, I guess?) but also it makes u horny lmao. HOWEVER. Reader is also 100% into Batman so it's not like she's manipulated or anything into sleeping with him.

Additional notes: No use of Y/N. established childhood friends with Bruce. cursing/explicit language. enthusiastic consent during sexual content. no physical descriptors are used for the reader. (and yes, dr. crane is absolutely cillian murphy/nolanverse dr. crane sue me)

prompt: size kink, dirty talk, drunk/stoned/under the influence | pairing: battison/f!reader | warnings: explicit sexual content/above notes.

( read on ao3 ) || kinktober list

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dr. Crane looks up from his notepad. His blue eyes are sharp and inquisitive behind his square frameless glasses. His light brown hair frames his face in soft moussed waves.

“I’m afraid I can’t be of much use to you. I’ve started working at Arkham only recently.”

You press your tongue to the ridged roof of your mouth. That explains why Dr. Crane was willing to speak to you. He likely hadn’t heard of your prior snooping around. No one warned him. Either he was disliked or not remarkable enough to warrant a heads-up from his colleagues. You decide to play polite and dumb. He thinks you’re a true-crime fanatic with a podcast. Besides, you need him if you’re going to reestablish your story and expose Arkham’s corruption.

“And they treat you well?” You ask with a tilt of your head. Your pen is poised above your notebook and your expression is open and earnest.

Dr. Crane smiles. It disarms you—this sudden charm that radiates from the thin, sharp-eyed doctor.

“They do.” He replies.

Your next question lies heavy on your tongue. He’ll either get defensive, you think, or he’ll play stupid. Dr. Crane is handsome and intelligent, but you’ve spent enough time around shady people to know when someone is hiding something. Dr. Crane doesn’t fidget, cover his mouth when speaking, or avoid your eye-contact. But he does keep glancing at the file cabinet in the left corner. Oh, he is careful about it. You’ll give him that credit. But you’ve caught him enough times to be suspicious.

And being suspicious is healthy in this line of work.

“And the patients?” you finally ask after a weighted pause.

“If you’re concerned,” he begins and his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, “I can give you a tour.”

Avoidance. An interesting tactic. It’s your turn to smile placidly and shake your head. You close your notebook. The universal sign of ‘we are done’.

“I’m sorry I have other appointments today,” you say.

“Another time then.” He says and now you are both lying. The way he looks at you suggests he knows it too. You zip your coat and tuck your notebook and phone away into your over-the-shoulder bag.

“I really do appreciate that you took the time to meet with me today, Dr. Crane.” You say as he walks you to the door. He opens it for you. It feels as if you haven’t learned the steps to this dance while Crane memorized the whole choreography.

“Here,” he offers you a thin, stocky business card from his wallet, “in case you think of anything else.” The text on the card is simple. The font is black and thin. It’s his name, his role, his work email address, and his telephone number. You already have all this. You take the card and slide it into your back pocket.

“Have a good afternoon, Dr. Crane.”

He says your name and farewell and shuts the office door once you step from the threshold. Your shoulders relax and you sigh. Your meeting with Crane - it’s not exactly an open door into Arkham, but it’s a cracked window. It’s a start. It’s something. You fish your keys out of your bag and walk toward the exit.

Thankfully, these hallways are brightly lit and warm-paneled with wood. It's decorated with cushioned chairs, coffee tables with magazines, and thin dark-green carpets. These offices are for families and caregivers. And – in this instance – a nosy ex-journalist with an important story to write.

You text Bruce: did you still want to get dinner tonight?

He’s been in a weird mood ever since you left a few days ago (once you had clearance from the doctors). He sulked when you told him. He kept giving you sorrowful, pleading looks shadowed by sleep deprivation. However, you’re on his payroll and can’t justify living with him on top of his generous paychecks. Besides, you want to pursue a relationship with Bruce and it’s too soon to move in together. You have to take it slow. You want to take it slow.

His response arrives when you’re getting into your car. A simple and reserved: yes.

A fluttery and giddy feeling enters your chest.

*************

Bruce stares at the screen containing the analysis of your blood samples. Whatever was inside you—it’s not on the market. There are traces of hallucinogenic compounds. There are traces of medication that’s used to treat patients with Alzheimer’s and dementia. And stimulants, too. It’s a jigsaw puzzle of enzymes and chemicals.

He rubs at his bloodshot eyes with his forefinger and thumb.

“You ought to eat something, sir,” Alfred says while setting down a tray of tea and toast.

Bruce replies with a brusque tone, “I’m fine.” He realizes his mistake and corrects himself, “I’m having dinner later with a friend.”

Alfred releases a thoughtful hum. Bruce already knows what he’s thinking. His list of friends is woefully short. And there’s only one person he could go out with.

Alfred asks, “shall I iron your suit? Select some cufflinks?”

Bruce snorts, “It’s not that kind of dinner, Alfred.”

“Then a gift for the lady then?” He begins pouring tea. “You shouldn’t arrive at a date empty-handed. It’s impolite and shows a lack of forethought. Does she like flowers? I could have a bouquet arrangement made of – ah – let’s see.” Alfred mutters various flowers to himself. Bruce catches some of them. Gladiolus, red camellia, tulips. He half-listens and munches on a corner of toast while scrolling through pages upon pages of analysis.

*************

The little Mediterranean restaurant has an ordering counter, a drink cooler, and three plastic tables. The white and blue bordered walls are plastered with framed photos of beaches in Greece. Your feet stick to the tiles when you stand in front of the drink cooler and grab a beverage.

You flip through your notepad. Dr. Mercer is dead-end. Literally. Despite being only forty-one, he died of a heart attack about two weeks after you were fired. You don’t believe in coincidences anymore. Everything in Gotham is connected. You just have to find the right thread to pull. You start at the beginning.

Dr. Mercer: Gotham University graduate. He wrote his thesis on the behavioral side effects of long-term alcohol addiction. You remember he was a soft-spoken man who genuinely believed in rehabilitation.

Dr. Mercer was your lynchpin. He was the first to express distaste about how Arkham was being run. He confessed that he was providing a substantial amount of pain medication for several of Gotham’s police without a prescription. He suspected they were selling it on the streets, but he couldn’t cut them off.

The police didn’t threaten Dr. Mercer outright, but they did sit outside his house, or remind him that his son was only 12. When Dr. Mercer went to Arkham’s administration, they told him to keep his mouth shut and provide for ‘the brave folks who protect the city’. You recall your last conversation with him and your mouth twists into a frown.

“The guilt,” Dr. Mercer said to you, his expression pained, “I think it might eat me alive, Silver. I can feel it’s teeth in my heart.”

They must have killed him. Whether it was Falcone, someone higher in the pyramid, or someone at the PD—you didn’t know for sure—but you knew Mercer’s death wasn’t accidental. Maybe Dr. Mercer was offered hush money and he couldn’t take the guilt anymore…and rather than protect himself, protect his family, he tried to do the right thing. Maybe he said no. Maybe he said he’d go and talk to the press himself. But before the whistle could blow someone took care of him. A gentle burn prickles at the back of your throat.

“Do you want to order?” The server cuts through your reverie and you blink.

“Oh – um…” You check the time. Bruce is nearly fifteen minutes late. “Uh, sure. Yeah. Please.” You figure he won’t mind if you order before him. As you wait for your food, you return to your notebook and your theories.

*************

Batman drew his fist back and his knuckles connected to the thug’s jaw with a sickening, sharp crack.

“Who does Falcone work with?” He growls. “I need a name.” “I don’t know!” The thug pleads. His voice is thick and congested due to his broken nose. “I swear!”

Annoyed, frustrated, and tired of stonewalling into dead-ends, Batman tosses the injured thug onto the wet concrete. His palms slap against the stone, and he scrambles away from Vengeance toward the mouth of the alley. Batman lets him go. His stomach coiled tight like a loaded spring. He stalks back to the Batmobile like a towering shadow.

There is a text illuminated on his phone. His stomach drops.

It reads: Ouch. I waited over an hour for you, but the restaurant is about to kick me out. I’m heading home. I have work to do and then I’m getting up early to meet a contact. Talk later.

He leans his forehead against the steering wheel. He should’ve suspected this would happen. His duties as Vengeance would overlap his desires to be with you and when it came down to it—he’d choose Gotham. He had to choose Gotham. He is the only person capable of keeping the city safe. He’s the only person who can find the root of corruption and dig it out.

You deserve better than being stood up and ignored. He should’ve texted you. He should’ve sent flowers like Alfred suggested. How is that he can be a good partner to you as Batman but can’t manage it as Bruce Wayne? He slams his foot on the accelerator with more force than necessary. His thoughts whirl inside his mind in a maelstrom. His jaw clenches tight. His fingers flex on the steering wheel.

If only you had stayed at his penthouse then he wouldn’t need to worry about date nights. He wouldn’t need to worry about your safety. You would have been right down the hall. Close, safe, bringing light to the shadows of his home.

The tires screech as he takes a corner too hard, too fast. His eyes reflectively look up to the windows of the building. The colorful lights on your balcony illuminate the glass. You have news for him, a lead, and some tension loosens inside him.

(line break)

When you get home, there is a package at your front door, and it finally felt like something was going right.

It took 3 phone calls. One involved copious begging. It took all the money if your saving account. And a shady alleyway meeting with a Gotham University college drop-out. You have everything you need to tinker with your drugged-up blood samples.

You glance at the stack of manila folders on your coffee table. Your life is a proverbial juggling act. You balance coffee and energy drinks, personal interviews and internet sleuthing, and frequent trips to the library archives. You haven’t seen Vengeance in a week. This isn’t unusual, but how your abdomen clenches, whenever you think of him, is.

It feels treacherous to have a physiological reaction when you’re trying to pursue a relationship with Bruce. Although. You bite the inside of your cheek. Bruce doesn’t seem to be giving your relationship as much care and attention as you’d like. It was one date and he bailed. You’d rather have an awkward phone call with Alfred explaining his lateness than empty silence from your potential boyfriend.

In your distracted state, you misjudge the liquid component meant to react with your white blood cells and pour too much into the glass beaker.

You cough, stumbling backward as the fumes assault your nostrils, and your eyes smart with pain and fill with tears. Once the sensation of vertigo passes, you’re overwhelmed by the texture of the clothes on your skin. It’s too tight. It’s going to block your airway. You tug your shirt over your head and wrestle your bra off. You stand in your kitchen, topless, chest heaving, your skin pebbling with goosebumps from the cold. You wish your shitty fucking landlord would fix the heat.

But it’s your fault for playing Chemistry 101 in your abysmally small kitchen. You flick the switch that turns the fan on over the oven to clear away the thin, serpentine wisps of smoke.

“Ah, fuck.” You scrub both hands over your face. Your skin fizzes. It’s not a hot sensation or a cold one, but it’s as if every hair follicle on your body is alert and vibrating. You press your spine into the cool and softly textured wall. Should you call 911? And how would you explain yourself? You’re certain some of these materials are illegal. Questions would be asked. The PD might search your apartment. They could find your notes. You can’t risk it. You try closing your eyes and breathing steadily through your nostrils.

Your balcony door opens. A cool gust of air trails into the hazy kitchen before it shuts off. There’s only one person who can reach your balcony. Your body tenses with anticipation. Of course, he’d come now. Fuck Vengeance and his shitty timing. “What happened?” Batman’s voice enters through your ears and your thighs instinctively clench. A low, pulsing thrum of pure need vibrates down your spine. Oh, fuck. You’re so fucked. You’re so outrageously screwed.

“The drug.” You press one arm over your exposed breasts to cover them, though it hardly matters. He’s been inside you. You stifle a moan in the back of your throat. Nope. Do not think about it. “I was trying to neutralize it. I did something else.”

Batman’s cool, assertive gaze crawls across your throat and chest. “You’re sweating.” He observes.

“No shit.” You deadpan.

“Talk to me.” Batman steps closer and you recoil, not out of fear, but out of sheer desire mixed with embarrassment. Every neuron in your brain is firing and demanding that you crawl onto him, feel the cold, hard press of his armor against your hot skin, feel his gloved fingers in your mouth or in between your legs.

He glances at the equipment on your counter. “I didn’t realize you had experience in biochemistry.”

You laugh a high and wavering laugh, but the giddiness dissipates. You aren’t experienced in biochemistry at all. However, You have the notes of a biochemist and the tenacity of a warrior.

“I’m not hallucinating.” You manage thickly, “but I don’t think you should be here.”

His jaw clenches. “Why not?”

“Because I might do something stupid.”

“Like what?”

Like a thousand things, you want to say. Your mind flashes with about a dozen images of Batman fucking you. You stare at the plush shape of his lips.

The truth tumbles out of your mouth, “like kiss you.”

He cups your jaw firmly and your mouth opens, breath wheezing from your lungs, as you imagine him sliding his warm tongue between your teeth.

“Your pupils are dilated.”

You grab his wrist for the sake of touching him, “so are yours.”

“What do you need?” Batman’s gravelly voice is a demand. “Tell me so I can help.”

Your semi-rational thoughts of doctor’s offices or pharmacies fade like smoke. Every muscle in your body aches. Your nipples are tight and hard. Your inner walls keep gripping at thin air and your abdomen clenches at the lack of physical sensory input. You want to touch yourself. You want him to touch you.

“T-touch me. I need you to touch me.” You gasp out as if the words themselves are being ripped from your throat.

Batman releases your jaw and slides both hands down your arms. The rough texture of his gloves is sharp and deliciously grating across your sensitive skin.

“Like this?” He asks.

You shake your head.

“N-no, more.” It’s hard to string sentences together. The word is jagged and blurry. At your guidance, he drags both palms to your chest, and you stumble back into the wall when his hands squeeze your breasts. Your nipples prickle beneath his gloves, and you whimper—your eyes fluttering closed. He squeezes and pushes your breasts together with your hands laid on top his, urging and guiding, every single motion eliciting a sweet, whimpered cry from you.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks, but you press his hands harder down against your breasts. He regards you seriously behind his dark, smudged makeup and cowl.

“No. Don’t stop. I think I might die if you stop.”

His lips twitch into a smirk.

“I’ve never heard that before.” He sounds earnest and you chuckle weakly. Batman’s thumb and forefingers encircle your hard nipples and lightly pinch. You hiss and throw your head back into the wall. The slight pain barely registers. His warm lips touch the angled tilt of your jaw. You cry out and tremble against him. Every sensation is magnified by a thousand. Batman’s lips suckle along your neck. He hums to himself when you moan out loud.

“Whatever you did to the sample,” he says while pulling away, “affects your sensitivity to physical stimulation.”

“Yeah, yeah, no shit.” You say, squeezing your fingers between his, and pushing his hand toward the waistband of your pajama shorts.

“Are you sure?” He asks and you manage a short nod. He cups your pussy with a large, gloved hand. Your eyes roll back into your skull. You need his fingers inside you. You need to clench and cum around his hand. Nothing else matters but the desire you have for him. Nothing.

“Fuck,” he hisses and elongates the word, “you’re already so fucking wet for me. So goddamn soaked.” He begins rubbing the outside of your pussy in concentric motions. He presses his body into yours. The sensation of his cold, hard planes of armor draws another breathy moan from your lips.

His kiss is pure, vibrant desire. He suckles your lower lip into his mouth and groans when you whine. His tongue strokes along yours and you writhe and something inside you starts to coil. You shouldn’t be this close so soon, but you are.

You gasp, “fuck, fuck, fucking fuck.”

“Already?” His hand in your shorts moves quicker, “what a good girl you are…cumming for me so soon, so quickly, getting your pussy nice and wet and ready for me.”

You come so hard that your teeth clack together. You’re riding the throbbing aftershocks of your orgasm when Vengeance pushes your underwear aside and sinks his index finger into your cunt.

“Oh, god, please yes—please.” You babble and desperately rock your hips into his hand. His glove creates a ridged sensation that sends sparks of pleasure down to your toes. You clutch to his armor and hike your leg up and hook it around his waist. Batman touches you with a determined purpose. You messily kiss along his jaw. Even the texture of his stubble against your smooth lips is pleasurable. You wonder if you’ll have the courage to ask him to eat you out. You want to feel his stubble on your thighs.

“You’re gonna cum again, aren’t you?” Your eyes are closed but you can hear his smirk. “If you’re a good girl and cum for me again, I’ll give you my cock. Would you like that?”

“Y-yes.”

It takes only a few thrusts before he’s stoking that white, pulsing fire in your lower stomach. You latch your mouth onto his and kiss him with every ounce of strength you have. He responds with equal fervor. A single lucid thought crosses your mind—if you hadn’t experimented with the samples would Vengeance still kiss you like this? Desire you? The lucidity is short-lived. You cry out into Batman’s open, wet mouth.

He praises, “Good, you’re so good for me.”

You sway on unsteady feet and lean against Batman’s strong frame. He carefully tugs away your shorts and underwear. He places a tender kiss on your bare shoulder. His blue eyes cut to yours—inquisitive and darkened by lust.

“I want to hear you say it.” He says, “Tell me you want me if that’s what you really want.”

“I do.” You reach forward and palm the hard bulge straining against his gear. You hold eye contact with him. You catch your reflection in his dark pupils. Your chin and lips shine with salvia and your skin glistens with sweat.

You repeat yourself since Batman hasn’t moved yet, “I do. I mean it. I want you. I want you to fuck me.” Your heart threatens to escape your ribs. Batman doesn’t move or break eye contact with you as you find his zipper and release his cock. He hisses through clenched teeth when you touch him. You smile to yourself. There’s something heady and intoxicating that you can make Batman’s breath hitch. Your fingers slicken with his pre-cum.

He sharply pulls your hand away, “That’s enough.”

“No fair.” You pout, “You touched me.”

“Next time, Quicksilver. I’ll let you touch all you want.” He grabs you by the waist and lowers you to the floor. You open your mouth to object that your bedroom isn’t that far (small apartment after all), but Batman looks at you—dark and desperate—and his chest heaves.

He rubs the head of his cock against your folds, “I need to be inside you.”

You can’t argue with that. “Okay.” He plunges into you in one swift, slick stroke. Your pussy envelopes him. The world goes blurry-white and your muscles tremble with the delicious sensation of Batman’s cock filling you.

“You take me so well,” He rasps, “I love feeling your cunt stretch and squeeze around me.” He draws his cock out of you and the thigh-guards on his armor glisten with your arousal. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull. The linoleum tile is blessedly cool against your feverish skin. Batman holds your hips, lifting you, and sheathes himself once more.

“Fuck.” His pretty eyelashes flutter.

You whine.

“I wish you could see yourself right now.” His thrusts are deep and steady, hitting some apex part of you that makes your toes curl, and your moans hiccup in your chest. “Split open, begging for me, squeezing me,” His fingers dig into the meat of your thigh, “you’re so…fucking…unbelievable.”

He lifts your legs, pressing your knees into your chest, and your hips jerk upward with a gasp. “F-fuck!”

“Is that good?” He rocks in and out of you, teetering on the edge of losing his composure, you can see it in the hard lines of his jaw and the way he squeezes your hips.

“Y-yes.” You choke out, nodding, “don’t stop. Go faster.”

“Yeah?” He nods, panting, “I want to make you cum.” And it says it like a promise. He plants his hands against the tile. You’re nearly folded in-half, surrounded by him, encased by him, his imposing and large armor almost uncomfortable as it presses into your skin. His cock drags along the ridges of your inner walls and then he’s moving into you with confidence and purpose. Your ass smacks wetly against his armor. He grunts, bearing his teeth, pumping into you with feverish desire.

You awkwardly wiggle a hand between your legs. The first touch of your fingertip to your swollen, slick clit is electrifying. Your spine arches off the floor.

“Good girl.” He growls, punctuating his words with a hard and jolting thrust that makes you gasp and tears spring to the corners of your vision. You quickly drag your fingertips across your clit. A flush of goosebumps run down your arms. Your moans echo through your tiny kitchen and reverberate through your eardrums.

“I love—” He gasps, burying himself, “the noises you make for me.”

It feels so unbelievably good that you want to scream or start crying (or both). The combination of Batman towering over you, saying all these sweet words, and the jerky movement of your fingers on your clit is dizzying.

He continues, “Take it. Take all of it. I know you can, pretty girl.” The position makes it difficult to crane your neck upward to kiss him. You settle for gripping his forearms. “Does anyone else fuck you as I do?”

“N-no.” You admit. A wave of guilt threatens to overcast your blissed-out experience, but then Batman grunts and mutters, “good. You deserve this. You’re my perfect girl.”

Your guilt vanishes and you blossom under his praise. You and Bruce haven’t discussed sexual exclusivity. Maybe it’ll be a conversation for the future once Bruce apologizes for missing your date.

“There’s that smile,” he murmurs, “such a sweet and perfect smile. I can feel you getting closer, baby. I want you to cum all over my cock.” His eyes squeeze shut. He exhales your name over and over again. Batman is desperate and panting over you.

“Cum for me, please.” He arches his head back and you seek a peek of his flushed neck, “Please cum for me.”

You scream as you clench and rhythmically pulse beneath him. Your orgasm isn’t a firework. It’s a fucking freight train. Batman fucks you through it, relentless and pounding, his pace steady and controlled. Your pussy gushes and squeezes around him. Batman buries himself and raggedly cries out your name. Your limbs go limp and useless. You release the grip you had on his forearms and your arms flop onto the tile. It takes a full minute for you to come back to earth.

“Fuck,” Batman breathes. You hardly hear him.

*************

He gently moves your legs out from underneath him. Your knees and shins are irritated from where his armor dug in. Your eyelids flutter closed and panic clenches his heart. He presses his two fingers beneath your jaw and checks your pulse. It’s steady and strong. He bows his head with a relieved sigh. He hopes that whatever reaction caused by playing Walter White will wear off when you wake up.

He scoops you into his arms and carefully carries you into your bathroom. The bathwater runs weakly tepid, and Bruce mentally chastises your choice to leave his penthouse. He fills the bathtub enough to reach your waist. He removes his gloves and forearm guards. You barely stir and your head rests against the edge of the tub. He gently washes the cum from your inner thighs and the sweat from your skin.

His heart squeezes painfully. Bruce sighs a pitiful and low sound. He wants you so badly, wants to be with you, but how can he do that when he’s Vengeance? He is the only one able to keep Gotham safe. He can’t keep missing date nights or ignoring your calls. He can’t tell you who he is. He should’ve been smarter about this.

But…it’s you.

You were his first friend growing up. You are carved into him deeper than a tattoo. You’re like a transplanted organ that he needs to survive. He managed – before – without you during those cold, lonely years. He doesn’t want to do it again. He knows it’s selfish. He knows his first (and only) priority should be Gotham. Yet, a world emptied of you would be a world he couldn’t live in.

Bruce reaches over toward the towel hanging on the bar. He frowns at their plushness and strange familiarity. They look nicer than the others. Then he notices the embroidered “W” in gold at the edge of the towel.

Bruce chuckles to himself, “Thief.” He says affectionately.

He wraps you in the towel to carry you to bed. His swollen, aching heart swells with fondness. You stole a towel from Wayne Manor. He wonders if you took anything else—what other pieces of him, his home, that you brought into yours.

In the pitch dark of your bedroom, Bruce lays you on the bed and removes his cowl. His skin itches with vulnerability and fear. Bruce kneels beside your bed and cradles your hand against his face. He lightly kisses your palm and checks your pulse at the inside of your wrist.

“Sleep well, Quicksilver,” he murmurs.

*************

You awoke the next day feeling groggy and sore, but otherwise fine. You would’ve stayed asleep longer if not for the incessant knocking at your front door.

“Good morning!” greeted the delivery person holding flowers under one arm, “I need your signature for this package.”

Confused, yet curious you scribble your signature onto the digital pad held by the delivery person. They pass the bouquet of flowers and a decent-sized cardboard box to you. It takes a few minutes to find something suitable to put the flowers in. But the colorful arrangement definitely brightens your small apartment.

The cardboard box contains a swanky, expensive black laptop with a note taped to the keyboard.

‘For the sake of security – please use a different password.’ – BW

You spend the rest of your morning transferring your notes from your old laptop to your new one. You do pick a new password. It’s the date you and Bruce reunited. The hours blur by in a black-and-white swarm of scanned newspaper clippings and transcribing your interview notes with Dr. Crane.

A text comes through from Bruce a little before 12:00 PM. It reads: can we get coffee? Or lunch?

A petty, vindictive part of your brain wants to leave him on read. Let him stew in your silence and suffer your indifference. But then you remember the scrappy, scrawny boy of your youth. You remember a pair of soulful, sad blue eyes. His fingers tenderly caring for your wounds after Falcone. His soft smile when you agreed to date him. It won’t solve anything to stay quiet and ignore your hurt feelings.

You text him back: as long as you’re buying. Pick the place and I’ll meet you.

*************

Your stomach winds with anxiety as you walk into the little café. Bruce is already here. He’s at a corner table, back to the wall, his eyes on the entrance. You can tell he’s showered and cleaned up. Maybe even shaved. Although his dark sweater is wrinkled and his eyes are shadowed with sleep deprivation, Bruce somehow manages to look handsome. You try to not let your attraction to him fog your thoughts. You need to have a serious conversation. You square your shoulders and approach.

“Hey,” he greets with an uncomfortable shift in his chair. You know he doesn’t like leaving the penthouse. You have to give him some credit that he came out to meet you rather than asking you to come and meet him at home.

“I want to start with my apology before we get coffee,” he begins as you sit down, “I’m sorry. I got caught up in something. I know it’s not - it’s not an excuse.”

“It’s not.” You cross your arms.

He ducks into his shoulders, looking chastised, “Did you get your gift?”

“I did.” You glance around the café. There’s only one other patron inside and they’re busy wearing headphones and typing on their laptop. The employees are chatting amongst each other—barely audible over the café playlist. The journalist part of your brain wants you to dig deeper. You want to know what he was doing. You want to know why he was so ‘caught up�� that he couldn’t call or text you to reschedule. Your instincts buzz. A story is here. You can feel it. You can smell it as keenly as you smell the roasted coffee beans in the air. But you tamper down on those instincts. This is Bruce. He’s your childhood friend.

“Listen, Bruce. What you did was shitty, and it hurt my feelings and I deserve better than that.”

“You do,” he agrees.

“I understand if you don’t have time for a relationship.” You shrug, “maybe we jumped into this too quickly.”

“No.” Bruce leans forward in his seat. “I’m sorry, I should’ve called. You deserve better and I want to…I want to show you that I can be better than that.”

The awkward silence lays between you. You pick at a piece of lint on your pants. You avoid his imploring blue eyes. Your skin prickles. Batman was in your apartment last night. More than that—Batman was inside you. You’re raking Bruce over the coals for not calling when you were busy gushing over Batman’s knuckles. You rub your hands over your face.

“There’s something you should know if you want us to continue this relationship.”

“Okay.”

“I slept with someone last night.”

Your gaze flicks upward to catch Bruce’s expression. He doesn’t look as hurt as you expected. He nods. A small smirk tugs at his plush lips.

He says, “I wasn’t expecting sexual monogamy this early on.” Your shoulders relax. This is the best-case scenario: Bruce isn’t mad or hurt that you fucked someone else. Granted, you hadn’t slept with Vengeance because you were mad at him. It happened purely by accident. It was because of that drug. The back of your neck tingles with warmth. OK. Maybe that’s not entirely true. If Batman had shown interest…then…even without the drug…you might’ve still slept with him.

He asks, “Anyone I know?”

A laugh bubbled up inside your throat.

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow, “and will you tell me?”

You shake your head, “absolutely not. I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Fair enough.”

Bruce orders a black coffee with two sugars. You split a fruit-filled pastry with him. In between bites, you tell him about your meeting with Dr. Crane and pass over your notes on Arkham and Dr. Mercer’s untimely death.

“I’m not sure how Dr. Mercer ties into Falcone, or if he does, but I’m sure Falcone has the network to murder someone.”

Bruce nods thoughtfully.

“I’ll see what Alfred and I can find.”

“We’re close, Bruce.” You admit. A tinge of excitement laces your tone and brightens it. “I can feel it. I think I can use Dr. Crane to re-interview some of Mercer’s patients. I could have my story complete within the next few weeks.”

His brow furrows, “You said you don’t trust Crane. You said he had something to hide.

“He does—but for all we know—he could have hidden dirty magazines in his filing cabinet.”

Bruce’s smile triggers an irregular heartbeat pattern in your chest.

*************

You lift the bouquet of flowers from the vase to change the water. A slim, lacquered white notecard slips out from between the stems.

In beautiful calligraphy, it reads: to my perfect girl.

**************************

Part Three >

#bruce wayne x reader #battinson x reader #battinson imagine #batman x reader #batman x you #bruce wayne x you #dc fic #the batman fic

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mushiemellows · 3 months ago

Note

wrapping their scarf around their neck, breathing in their smell for the prompt, zoro/nami?

(for Sharing Clothes prompts (requests still open because I left town))

Wrapping their scarf around their neck, breathing in their smell (I took creative liberty with the definition of scarf)

“Hey,” Nami kicked the sleeping man leaned against the railing, “it’s laundry day. Strip.”

He blinked up at her, blinded by the afternoon sun. Golden light haloed her hair, setting his world ablaze. “Wha—?”

“Naked. Come on. You’re not missing another wash day,” she said with a lean and a cross of her arms. When he didn’t move, she squatted and started to pull his haramaki up his chest herself.

“Will you— what the hell?!” Zoro seized and started to push her away, though the woman’s hands lingered on his swollen pectorals. “I can take my damn clothes off myself!”

“You don’t want any help with that?” She smirked.

He shot her a look at he stood to strip, but the navigator backed off once she got her way. The swordsman crumpled up his robe, haramaki, and socks like a moss ball in the grass before laying down to bask in the sun four-sword-style.

“That’s not everything,” Nami kicked the muscles around his ass and hips again.

“What the hell is left?” He squinted in incredulity with a gesture to his naked physique.

“That.”

“What?”

She reached for the bandana tied around his bicep, and this time he let her untie it herself. Thief’s fingers snatched the cloth, but traced just briefly over the mound of muscle.

“That’s not clothing,” Zoro rolled his eyes. “I don’t wear that every day.”

“Uh, I think you’re forgetting what you’re up to when you do wear it.”

“That doesn’t man you have to wash it!”

Nami gasped, “you’ve never washed it?!” She dropped the black cloth to just barely hold it by two fingers, gagging at the idea of his fighting attire never once knowing a proper sudsing.

“I didn’t think I had to! It’s not real clothes. It’s just a piece of fabric, yeah?” The swordsman shrugged as he nestled back into the sunshine. His eye closed, and that was that.

“Well, I’ll bring it back fresh as a daisy. We’ll even clean it in its own tub so it doesn’t turn the water all green on its own. How’s that sound?” The woman squinted down at him. She knelt to pick up the rest of his laundry and add it to the big pile with everyone else’s. “And you’re on laundry duty next week!”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Zoro mumbled as he fell back asleep.

Nami left the man to enjoy the sunshine as she carried his dirty clothes up the stairs. Before she entered inside the ship, though, she paused behind a corner. Out of sight. Away from any witnesses. Quiet.

Her hand reached once more for the black bandana on the top of the pile. Eyes looked shiftily around once more just to double check that the coast was clear. She took a secret little sniff of the fabric. Then a second, properly breathing the man in.

It didn’t smell particularly pleasant; the lingering grunge of sweat, body odor, iron, and musk would have made her gag if it didn’t instinctively remind her even more of…other activities. The bandana was crusted with blood and salt, and yet, something else lingered amongst the fragrance.

Ambition.

The smell of success, of victory in the final moments, of pushing himself beyond his limits into a realm unknown.

He’d get that look in his eye, that smile in the corner of his lips, the hilt on his tongue, the sweat down his brow. Adrenaline pumped out through his skin. He’d breathe heavy. He made the world pause for him. As he always did. And then, he would fight with every ounce of himself. Unrelenting passion. Inexorable fortitude. Love.

The lingering ghost of every conflict lay in that scrap of fabric. Each lesson he’d ever learned had soaked into the fibers. It smelled…admirable. Nami smiled quietly to herself in the secret corner of the ship, savoring the sensation and the flooding memories.

Then, she sniffed the cloth a third time and fully retched at how much it reeked.

#one piece #my fic #ficlet #cat burglar nami #roronoa zoro #this is my first time writing them!#hope it was ok #zonami #suggestive

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kob131 · 1 year ago

Text

Out of nowhere I bet but I wanna try listing off why AI Art isn't good-

The common argument against the accusation of AI Art is that human beings themselves take ideas from their surroundings and mix them together to make 'original' ideas (like a horse with a horn to make a unicorn). However, the difference between an AI and a human being comes not only from how the human brain is infinitely more powerful than any computer ever made by humanity (meaning it can consider ideas and alter them at a far greater rate than any algorithm) but also that the human brain is affected by things like 'preference' and 'bias' for certain ideas or expressions.

For example, a person who prefers anime style drawings will almost always interpret the idea of 'badass horse' will interpret that to mean 'badass horse in an anime style'. While this seems simplistic and easy to replicate with AI (keyword being replicate)- there are INNUMERABLE preferences and biases that come into play when making art. To the point that an ultra specific prompt could still result in innumerable different interpretations because of people's individual tastes. This can then satisfy numerous peoples' different desires or perhaps even create a new demand. AI can't really do this- It will give you exactly what you asked for. ... Exactly. No differing interpretations or unique ideas mixed in. You ask for 'horse with a water mane' and you get a horse with a water mane. That's it.

Another reason why AI Art isn't good is that AI art...is just a dead end. The way it works is that the algorithm is taught to look at certain images in association with certain keywords and then, based off the data given, it will spit out an image to match. ... Notice how, in this process- the AI is reliant on outside information to make the image. As in, the AI NEEDS to be able to look at certain artstyles in order to properly fulfill its request. Unlike a human artist, who can use the data gained from other experiences (like touch, taste and hearing) along with how those would be associated with certain imagery to create new styles or interpretations. Humans can independently create ideas, AI can only regurgitate.

There's also how the human brain has this...uncanny ability to detect when something looks wrong or doesn't look real. You see this most often in movies or shows with heavy use of CGI- the images might be more technically impressive but without the grounding in real life that practical effects have they can easily look off because computers...just can't generate anything on par with reality. Same with AI- it can generate images resembling real works of art. ... But there's always something in them, some variable the AI can never account for, that will tip off the human brain to the fact that a human didn't make this.

In short- AI cannot take creative liberties, is basically parasitic with human artists and is too simplistic to match a real artist.

That's why AI art is a bad idea from my point of view.

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thetommoway-oioii · 6 months ago

Note

For Buddie, what about an established relationship prompt where they tell Christopher they're engaged? 💕

Hi @iced-coffee-jesus (love the pfp)!!! thank you for the ask! since there aren't many details I'm gonna assume you want me to take creative liberties! :D

anyway here it goes! apologies for any mistakes, I'm not a native English speaker or a good editor.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You and Me Until The End

Buck paced a hole into Eddie's living room. It was like watching a clock pendulum. Eddie was sat on the sofa, warily watching Buck. Buck came to a halt, gave Eddie a look that either read 'I'm nervous and scared' or 'I'm about to punch something'. Eddie was about 87% sure that it was the first one. Buck went back to pacing around. Eddie continued his brainstorming for making Buck stop.

"It's gonna be fin-" Eddie started but Buck was staring at him as if daring him to continue.

"Don't you dare tell me it's gonna be fine." Buck stated and continued walking around nervously, his hand now at his mouth, biting nails. Not a thing he often did but a bad habit he'd picked up as a kid whenever he was scared.

Eddie raised his hands in surrender. He was fond and worried about how much Buck was overthinking. Fond because he couldn't believe that the blond loved him enough to be this anxious and worried because he was certain Buck was overthinking too much.

"Babe" Eddie spoke gently and patted the empty couch space beside him.

Buck stopped in his tracks and contemplated what to do. He sighed heavily and plopped down next to Eddie, immediately leaning on his shoulder. Eddie wrapped an arm around Buck and pulled him closer, running his fingers through the blond's curls.

"You know he loves you to death right?" Eddie started, pressing a kiss to Buck's temple.

"I know.. what if he thinks I'm trying to replace Shannon though?" Buck hid his face into Eddie's abdomen. He loved Christopher so much. He didn't wanna lose the boy. He had been scared to tell him about his relationship with Eddie even though, rationally he knew Chris was secretly rooting for it. Relationship was one thing, engagement was another. This was serious now. He was afraid that even though Chris loved him, he wouldn't feel comfortable having someone replace his mother's place.

"Honey, he knows how much you love him and respect him and that you'd never ever try to do anything that he wasn't comfortable with. Plus he already sees you like a second parent Buck. You're not replacing Shannon in his mind or heart, he is gaining another extra parent. Someone who will love him just like I do and just like Shannon did. Please stop worrying so much." Eddie continued stroking Buck's hair, trying to comfort the man.

"I hope you're right because I canno-" Buck stopped when he heard keys rattling behind the front door. He sat up straight and immediately took off his engagement ring and slipped it into his pocket. He took a deep breath in as Carla opened the door and Chris walked in, his face lighting up immediately seeing both Buck and Eddie at the couch.

"Sorry boys, can't come in, I'm running late." Carla said from the front door before slipping out and shutting it behind her. Chris slowly made his way toward the both of them. Buck moved to the side and made space for Chris between him and Eddie. Chris sat down and gave a hug to each of them.

"Welcome back buddy. Did you have fun at school?" Buck asked, all his anxiety carefully placed behind a unbreakable mask.

"Yeah! We worked around in school's terrace garden today. It was really cool and fun!" Chris said enthusiastically.

"That's great buddy! Listen, there was something Buck and I wanted to talk to you about." Eddie sat up a straight, the mood shifting to a more serious tone.

Chris looked between Buck and Eddie and nodded, "Is it about the engagement?" He asked, shocking both the firefighters.

"You.. uh you know about that?" Buck asked, the mask slipping ever so slightly.

"Yeah," Chris nodded. "I saw the ring besides the kitchen sink a few days ago. I figured you'd tell me soon." He smiled brightly. If his expressions were anything to go by, he didn't seem upset at all.

Buck let out a half relieved sigh, though not completely sure if this was gonna end badly or not. "And.. how do you feel about that? Like are you okay with me and your dad getting married?" Buck asked tentatively, not sure if he was ready to hear the answer.

Chris looked at him with a weird face before turning to Eddie and giving him a look that read 'Is he serious?' Eddie half managed to contain his chuckle at Chris' expression. Chris turned to Buck and gave him a big smile.

"Of course Buck! I love you and Dad loves you too! I'm happy that you're officially gonna be my family now. I can have two dads now!" Chris moves closer to Buck and gives him a hug. He wasn't sure why Buck looked so scared but hugs always made everything better so he decided to give his Buck one too. Maybe now he'll be more at ease.

Buck slowly relaxed as he held Chris in his arms. Logically he was about 90% sure that this was gonna go well but his mind had spewed all kinds of doubts all day. Now, seeing the smile and love on Chris' face, he could let go of those doubts. Buck looked over to Eddie over Chris' shoulder and saw the most adorable, softest look on the man's face. He beckoned him forward to join in the hug as well and when Eddie held them both in his arms, Buck knew, nothing in the world could ever take this away from him.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

(title from The Greatest by Louis Tomlinson)

that's it! I hope you like it. if you have any other requests or prompts please don't hesitate to send an ask.

again apologies for any mistakes.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #evan buck buckley is christopher diaz's father #911 #911 abc #buddie fic #prompt fic #prompt asks #stiles writes #ask reply #contributing to the Eddie calls Buck Babe AND Honey agenda

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agentplutonium · 1 year ago

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you know what?

^ This comment from Lexi Sun (@autisticempathydaemon) is sticking itself into my brain (/pos). Here’s a short one shot with how i think this would go down (while taking some creative liberties with the ‘prompt’)

Prime Milo/Sweetheart & Asher (/Babe), Milo and Sweetheart have an adopted kid (this kid was abandoned after one of Sweethearts missions), there is gonna be no drama in this i can’t take it when there’s a kid around

(continued under the cut)

From day one, Asher was calling the kid little ghostie.

He knew this wasn’t Sweetheart and Milo’s biological son, but he couldn’t help it. The kid looks just like Sweetheart, he swears! Not to mention all the times he had pulled the slip on Asher and Babe while they were babysitting. Then, once he was found, the little menace would laugh at them for being worried. It was a game to the baby, and Asher has brought up this fact before.

“I think he’s just a toddler,” Milo would respond in a playful tone while packing up the kids things.

“I’m telling you!” Asher insisted. “He comes from two empowered, and while we don’t know much I’m betting that one of them was a stealth.”

“Uh huh,” Milo said, noncommittally. He motioned for Asher to hand over the baby.

“Hey, say what you want,” Asher said, finally handing the kid over, who was already reaching for Milo and cooing away, “I’m calling it.”

Milo gave his quiet hellos, kissing the side of his son’s head before turning back to Asher. “And I expect that, if you’re right, you’ll never let us live it down.”

“Damn right,” Asher said, smiling.

Milo chuckled. “Well, I better get him back before Sweetheart asks if I got him yet. Again,” he said fondly. “They just got home a bit before I got off and wants to see him. Thank you for watching him.”

“It was no problem,” Asher said sincerely. “If you need a babysitter don’t be afraid to hit us up. Babe has cancelled date nights before for the little ghostie. It’s always fun having him over.”

“Yeah, well, I think David’s mate would kill me if I gave you guys another chance before I gave them a chance,” Milo said. “I should probably also let Ma take him soon. It’s been a while.”

“A while,” Asher repeated, amused, “didn’t she have him the day of the last pack meeting? Two weeks ago?”

“Irrelevant,” Milo said with a smile.

Babe poked their head around the kitchen wall, nodding when they saw Milo. “Yeah I figured.” They leaned against the wall as they typed something into their phone.

“Figure what?” Milo asked after sharing a look with Asher.

“That you’re still here. Sweetheart is asking about you,” They teased.

Milo rolled his eyes, but Milo saw the way he smiled. “Yeah, yeah, tell them I’m heading out now,” Milo said with an amused huff. “I’m gonna go,” he told Asher. “I’ll catch you around.”

—

As they years passed, the less they were sure the kid even had powers. He wasn’t exhibiting the usual signs of an elemental, and he wasn’t a wolf. There was a chance that he was something else, but they all thought they would feel their core forming by now. Sweetheart was the most worried. Most of their friends at this point where kids from the pack, and it would be unfair to ask them to keep a secret like this, but they weren’t sure if the kid could get informed unempowered status at this point. The department would want to make sure that they weren’t empowered to avoid the paperwork. That could take ages.

It wasn’t until the kid was fourteen did they figure anything out.

Sweetheart had been home with him while he was sick, and Milo was on office duty for the day. Sweetheart was in the middle of making lunch for them both when they heard him cry out to them in fear.

Sweetheart was at his doorway in what felt like seconds, potentially phasing through a few walls to get there so fast but no one was around to confirm this. The kid was say bolt upright in his bed, eyes wide.

“My arm is gone,” he told them, panic rising in his voice.

“What?” Sweetheart asked, taking a few steps in.

He held up his right arm, which was in fact missing from the elbow down. He looked more freaked out the longer he processed it, tears forming in his eyes. Sweetheart’s eyes went wide, finally understanding what’s going on.

“Oh, honey,” they said, coming forward to sit on their bed. “It’s not gone. Can I touch you?”

He nodded, eyes not leaving Sweetheart.

“Look,” Sweetheart said, reaching out to touch where his arm would be, wrapping their hand his wrist. The second their skin made contact Sweetheart was able to tell exactly what the problem was. His powers manifested.

Their son was a stealth. Sweetheart tried not to be elated. He was freaking out and they need him to calm down.

“It’s still there,” Sweetheart assured.

“What is happening to me?”

Sweetheart’s chest aches at the fear that laced the kids voice. “I will explain everything, but I want to see if you can get your arm visible again,” they said gently. “Can you take a few deep breaths with me? It’s a lot easier to control it when you’re calmer.”

“So, I’m okay?” He whispered, sniffling.

“Perfectly so,” Sweetheart assured. “It’s even normal. For people like us, at least.”

“Like… us?”

Sweetheart gave a small smile, holding up their own arm and making their arm disappear just like his. Their son’s eyes blew wide at it, but there was a bit of relief behind his eyes.

“You can do it to!” He exclaimed.

“I can make a lot more than my arm disappear,” Sweetheart said, but we can worry about that later.” They took both his hands in theirs, and they breathed together a few times. As they sat there, Sweetheart couldn’t help but be relieved they were with him during this. It was a similar to their manifestation, and they knew how freaked out they were during that. After a few minutes of this, with nothing said between them, their son’s arm phased back. He looked very relieved to see it again.

“That was weird,” he said quietly. “Is… why did this happen to me?”

“This is going to sound insane,” Sweetheart said, “but you just manifested your powers. You’re like me.”

“Powers? Like… like Miles Morales?”

Sweetheart chuckled, “kinda like him, yeah.”

“Does,” he started, voice quieting when he went to speak again, “does dad know about your powers?”

Sweetheart tried not to laugh at that question. “Yes, he does. There’s a whole community of people just like us. It’s bigger than you think, too. Your dad, his friends, and your friends are all magical too.”

“Really? Why didn’t you tell me?” He demanded.

“Because it would have been breaking the law,” Sweetheart said truthfully.

“Oh.”

Sweetheart smiled, smoothing down his hair as the spoke. “Tell you what,” they said, “I’m going to go finish lunch and then we can go into more detail then. How does that sound?”

Their son nodded. “Can I come out and help?”

“If you’re feeling up to it. You might wanna take a shower first though.”

Their son nodded, getting up. Sweetheart squeezed his shoulder on the way out of his room.

They were pulling up Milo’s contact before they were fully down the hall. He picked up on the first ring.

“That was quick,” Sweetheart commented.

“It’s you,” Milo said. “I’d drop everything for you. Besides, I’ve got most of the things done. I’ve mostly been sitting here with Asher.”

“Good, so you might be able to come home early?” Sweetheart asked.

“Depends on the reason,” Milo said, and Sweetheart could see the shrug he have them. “David is pretty big on having someone here, just in case.”

“Well he might understand this time,” Sweetheart said, “your son’s powers just manifested.”

“No fucking way,” Milo said, louder than he needed to. “Really? Did you get a read of what they were?”

Sweetheart laughed as they heard Asher perk up in the background. They waited until Milo explained what was happening. Milo put his phone on speaker after that, so Asher could hear too.

“Hi sneaks,” Asher said.

“Hi Asher.”

“So I heard that your son’s power manifested.”

“They did,” Sweetheart said, chuckling.

“Soooo…” Asher trailed off. “You gonna tell us?”

“He’s a stealth,” Sweetheart said.

“I told you!” Asher yelled. “I have been telling you since day one!”

“You have,” Milo responded, a smile in his voice.

“Sneaks he looks so proud right now,” Asher told them, “he’s basically glowing.”

“Shut up!”

Sweetheart laughed at the two’s squabbling. They enjoyed hearing their arguments, mainly because they were entertaining.

“Listen, I have to get back to this food for him. I’ll talk to you both soon,” they said.

“I’ll be home as soon as I can, Sweetheart,” Milo told them. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Tell little ghostie that uncle Asher had it right this whole time but his parents didn’t believe me,” Asher called.

Sweetheart laughed, “sure, Asher.”

#this is short and stupid #but idc #i’ll consider this my writing warm up #redacted audio #redacted audio milo #redacted audio sweetheart #redacted sweetheart #redacted milo #redactedverse #redacted headcanons #redacted asher #redacted audio asher #redacted babe #redacted audio babe

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foggywiz4rd · 2 months ago

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Maybe this sounds random, but on Tik Tok I saw a lot of people using AI to make their Arcane lookalike character, and I just wanted to say that if you do so you didn't understand anything this show offers.

The quality of Arcane comes obviously from a really good writing but also from the amazing character designs, worldbuilding choices, scene composition and obviously animation; those are works that take a lot of fucking time to the amazing artists, animators and directors, and using a technology that actively threatens this working positions is not only disrespectful but also stupid. Actively feeding AI with the unique artstyle of arcane is first of all helping this abomination evolve into becoming even more precise in stealing and copying specifics artworks, and also it's teaching it how to replicate Arcane lookalike art pieces that could be used to mass produce merch or prints putting a profit in the pockets of the wrong people; not only that but since we live in a time where profits are basically the only interest to big companies, who can guarantee us that once the AI products are good enough they will not be used for the actual series and products. I know that right now it doesn't seem like a possibility for this franchise because it has given us a genuine and fantastic work of art, but seeing what is happening in the world of animation (thinking for exaple Disney pushing only corporations slabs such as live action remakes or souless films, Pixar employees given less and less creative liberty, DreamWorks Co founder Katzemberg basically declaring that animators can be replaced by AI, and all the strikes the animators in the USA are doing because of the inadequate salaries and threatens to their positions) it's not an impossible scenario, maybe the fact that the arcane/league animation projects are done by a studio based in France, [were because of EU regulations AI is more limited (kinda, but also not really lol)], can keep it safe for now, but I wouldn't be so sure about it in the future.

This is to say that there are real people in the animation industry wich are suffering the direct consequences of the capitalistic mentality of their executives, and the real threat of AI replacing their labor, you chosing to use this technology is only giving this capitalist machine free fuel.

Also it's insulting to the amazing visual work done in the show, the art of animation is finally taking a different path in big industries than the iperrealism of Disneys 3D backgrounds; let's think about Spiderverse by sony, or the lates Ninja Turtles by nickelodeon, or even better Nimona, finally there has been a path of experimentation with this form of art recognized by the general pubblic, and Arcane is yet another example of this new and diverse path. The characters flow in the scenes, everyone of them has a unique style of combat reflecting their personality, the use of color as symbols but also as enanchment of the scenes, the raw strokes and blurred edges, the use of light to convey the scenes depth, the character designs, the writing, it's a work of art, a humanmade work of art, not one done by some click on a computer and a prompt. This is a tipe of work that an AI should struggle to replicate, it easy for an artificial intelligence to remake a Disney 3D style, because it's clean, boring and all the same therefore it's easy for a company like that to start rely on this technology to feed us with all the more shit ass stories and all the same animations, let's not make it easy for an AI to replicate something like Arcane, let's not feed this machine great material to steal and reuse to take away work from the people who give us this masterpieces in the first place.

Without obviously starting the discourse about how harmful it is for the environment, but this post is already a chapter, so maybe another time.

Section with spoilers:

Last thing is I saw a girl talking about the artstyle choices in the scene where Viktor and Jayce destroy the excore, where the excore products are all kinda fucked up and uncanny like something an AI could make, and then where the two of them fucking explode (rip to them I'll miss those gay boys) everything becomes more flat like a traditional human made drawing. So maybe the glorious evolution of mankind through AI it's a lot like how it's portraid in the show: souless, all the same, lacking personal freedom of choice and creativity, therefore if we put on our thinking caps maybe it's not the best path to go down. I dunno I just wanted to throw it out there because it fits a lot.

Just my thoughts. If there are grammatical errors I'm sorry, but clearly I don't want to use an AI to correct them lol.

#arcane #ai #useofai #anti ai #stop ai #animation industry #animators strike #tiktok #tiktok filter

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bigshymen · 8 months ago

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Hey! I just saw your account and I instantly became happy 🥹 Not many people write about Sam Sulek and I’m so thankful that you do ❤️

If you are taking requests can you do a fic that involves the reader ( female ) helping Sam relax after an intense workout, like giving him a bath or massaging him 🥰

( can be wholesome or 😏 upto you 😳)

YOU GOT ME THINKING THINGS…! (I apologize it’s only losely based on the prompt, I definitely took my own creative liberties on this one so there’s no relaxing here 😅)

SHOWER THOUGHTS (NSFW)

sam sulek x fem reader

summary : you are a bodybuilding influencer infamous in the community for hooking up with fellow bodybuilders before their untimely deaths. but you like that.

smut , shower s3x , protected s3x , light dom reader , bodybuilder reader , loss of virginity , inexperience , oral s3x , hook ups, reader is a fiend , drug use , oneshot , size difference , mentions of death , morbid fantasies , he’s loud ! , afab anatomy , v4ginal s3x , kissing , i love evil reader actually

It’s no secret Sam is on steroids.

He never outright said it but if you’ve ever seem him before.. it’s obvious. And nowadays, what bodybuilder isn’t on the juice?

This of course never bothered you because, well, it excited you. You got off to the rush of the shortened life span of steroid users, the knowledge that you would be the last fuck of their life because who else wanted them?

Most women aren’t attracted to ridiculously big guys anyway (and not the good kind of big). The last thing they would cherish before their untimely death was you and your charity towards them with their body.

it’s why you began this ‘arrangement’ with him. The two of you had a complicated relationship. Workout buddies by day and fuck buddies by night, basically. You knew what you were getting into when you got involved with a guy on steroids because he wasn’t the first and when he’s dead at 30 he definitely wont be the last.

The last guy you hooked up with was the stereo-typical-hypermasculine-bodybuilder influencer, both in looks and personality. Honestly, you only fucked with him because he supplied you with free anabolics, and while you weren’t a roidhead like the guy, you dabbled in a bit of testosterone because you wanted to get built up fast yourself since you were also a bodybuilder influencer.

When he ended up sick and dying a premature death, you set yourself on another bodybuilder.

With the reputation you built for hopping from one guy to another, (and the deaths that followed soon after) some happening to be well known with fanbases, you began to be regarded as a “curse.”

Any bodybuilder that messed around with you is bound to die when you break it off with them.

You were surprised when you caught wind of this when it eventually reached your ears by a joke “warning” you saw online. I didn’t bother you really. It was technically the truth, anyway, but you’d never admit it because it would scare away the game.

Fast forward, you discovered a seemingly overnight sensation when you opened social media one day.

“Sam Sulek, 21, Bodybuilder.”

He was young and already so huge. Normally you wouldn’t be interested in guys new to bodybuilding. They weren’t ripe and deep enough into enhancement drugs for death not to follow closely behind them.

But he was so, so huge for his age. And it was obvious he was using and using badly. Face massacred by acne, chest and shoulders red with it too. Unnaturally muscular and desiring to get only 30lbs heavier as his main goal, even though he was already so massive.

You were dripping through your tight, active shorts just thinking about it. He was ready, you just knew it.

The two of you met at a bodybuilding convention not long after. Most people recognizing you either wanted a picture with the infamous ‘curse,’ pointing with their friends and whispering that you were scouting for your next victim, or they were genuinely fans.

It wasn’t hard to find him. He was a massive hit among fans for his attitude towards fame and being so down to earth. And you had to admit, he was pretty attractive outside of his body.

You’d hoped he hadn’t heard about the “curse,” you were worried it may ruin your chances with him, and if he did he never mentioned it because only a day after the convention and an intense workout on his part, you invited him to the airbnb you were staying at in the area and he showed.

The chemistry sparked at the convention almost immediately and to your delight it continued to burn brightly at his place. Maybe he intended to collab with you and he thought it would be a good way to get his name out there, but you quickly made your own intentions clear.

And to your surprise he was receptive.

You moaned loudly as Sam went down on you, warm water spraying onto your body, obscuring the wet mess that wasn’t from the shower head between your thighs. His palms played with your hard nipples above him as he repositioned himself on his sore knees on the shower floor, but he didn’t complain.

He was hesitant at first about doing it in the shower because of the slipperiness, but you reassured him you’d make it worth it.

Obviously this was his first time because he was not a good eater. We can change that later. You stopped him after you faked an orgasm because you didn’t want to embarrass him. Normally with the previous guys you were with you didn’t give a shit about how they felt if they were trash at it, but Sam looked so eager to please.

He looked up at you with so much earnest. His wide and glossy nut-brown eyes and his pinky cheeks. It was cute, even. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him was shit at head, at least not now.

You take your hand from his darkened, wet curls and beckon him up for the real treat. With your body pressed against the shower wall you let him have you the way he wanted.

Uncoordinated and weak as shit at first, but with your guidance, and his wrapped 3 inches you were screaming out in pleasure in no time.

“Oh.. oh!”

He re-paces himself slowly inside you, the stream of water working as an extra lubricate to your own. You rest your head onto the wall while he puts his head on your shoulder, sweet sounds exiting his mouth as well.

You pushed yourself backwards only drawing him deeper inside you desperately. Sensing that maybe his little peter wasn’t enough, he slithers his digits down your opening and begins to finger your clit, the enlarged size not seeming to phase him (thank tren).

With each thrust, the pain from his sore muscles increased but he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

He leans impossibly forward, pressing his massive body into yours and sandwiching you against the wall for his own pleasure, his cries becoming louder from his muscle aching along with the intense sensations.

Sensing his orgasm and your own, you captured his mouth with yours with a deep kiss, tasting faint traces of you on his tongue. You imagined his heart giving out while he struggled to tell you he’s close because you wont let him.

“M..mnh!” He attempts to get out until he can’t hold himself off any longer. He frees you from the wall and almost manages to get away before you pull him back in and have him empty himself inside you with a loud moan. You wish he had died then and there. The thought combined with this caused you to orgasm harshly, crying out alongside him.

You weren’t worried about the condom breaking anyway for obvious reasons.

Though extremely heavy breaths Sam looked dazed with pleasure, not even questioning what had just happened.

You shared one last kiss with him, well, shared is used loosely because you did all the kissing and while he tried to keep up before the water turned cold and the two of you promptly exited the shower.

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