#i’ll just get rid of the glasses? maybe?

[sumplys]

black beauty (part one) — j. barnes

You said if you could have it your way, you’d make it nighttime all day.

warnings: shorthair!bucky x redroom!reader, awkward timeline (takes place after captain america: civil war), female reader, soft sub bucky, slowburn(ish)

notes: first fic back—also my first series in years! there is a lot of plot here—it’s going to be delving deeper into the trauma of the characters in this chapter (but don’t worry, you’ll get your juicy stuff later). please send love if you enjoy! i’m looking forward to constructive criticism on the pacing & plot! love u xx.

main masterlist | series masterlist

Sequential gunshots rang out, three bullet holes indenting themselves into the soft cardboard targets.

“Again,” Madame B said. “Five now—as we practiced.”

You brought your thick centerfire pistol up towards your target, shooting once and hitting the bullseye. You took a second to breathe, lowering your gun–just a millimeter. Without a skilled eye, it wouldn’t look like much–maybe a flinch, or a shifting of weight–but Madame B nodded in approval, her hands clasped behind her back.

The shell casings clattered to the linoleum floor, with the next four bullets flying through the gaping space your first bullet had left.

Your hands lowered, the muzzle of your gun reflecting on the polished floor.

“Again.”

Your pistol rose, a methodical, perfectly rehearsed habit–then your eyes opened as the gunshots sounded–abruptly ending your nightmare.

“Are you cold, Agent?” Nick Fury asked, his voice echoing from a dark shadow. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine.”

You brushed off the memory, bringing a cool glass of water to meet your lips, but you knew Fury hadn’t attributed your shivering to the temperature.

“Are you up for an assignment?”

Following a task that resulted in the accidental deaths of over four-thousand Polish war prisoners, you defected from General Dreykov and the Red Room organisation. With hardly a week of freedom, S.H.I.E.L.D. detained you.

The organization–in order to pardon you for your crimes–had to promise the government around-the-clock surveillance and court mandated therapy. You complied, obviously, but your new life wasn’t without its flaws.

You were kept in a glass cage, bulletproof—for your safety, but with no internal guns—not your preference.

Being perpetually observed wasn’t for the weak, and it was especially not for the paranoid, but that’s just what happens when you’re branded as a “national security threat.”

Nonetheless, you were desperate to be rid of the torturous rhythm you had found amongst S.H.I.E.L.D.’s bustling staff.

“Yes, sir,” you replied, weary of the responsibility, but you knew it could prompt S.H.I.E.L.D. to trust you.

“Good. What do we need to get ready for you?”

“A Tokarev, sir, and a Korth revolver.”

“Old-fashioned,” Fury mused.

“And expensive,” you finished.

He stood from his chair, and the motion-sensored lights flickered on, “No bother, agent. Be ready to leave in twenty minutes. I’ll brief you on the flight.”

—

Jazz music ran over your body in waves as it hummed out of the overhead speakers.

Rond de jambe, pas de bourrée, pirouette, and fouette: movements as familiar to you as the click of a trigger. The urge to line up in your formation and succumb to the melody was nearly enough to make you pass out again. Old habits die hard, I guess.

The pill Fury slipped into your drink began to wear off, and you awoke to the smell of chemical cleaner and what seemed like pine scented car air-freshener. It was the same smell you had gotten used to on the long flight to the United States: Fury’s private jet.

You felt yourself getting irritated at the thought of Nick Fury once more–as if it wasn’t enough to imprison you, he had to drug you too. At the very least, the heavy medication kept the nightmares away.

As you blinked profusely, your eyes caught the passenger sitting across from you. Eyes a brooding blue gazed up to look back at you, and you immediately recognized the face.

He was a ghost story amongst Russians–a tale the government promoted but would never prove.

His accomplishments were deadly. Over 60 credited assassinations and nearly 230 casualties. No witnesses was his one rule, and here you were.

His dress shirt was tight against his chest, and his metal arm made a gentle whirring noise as his fingers twitched involuntarily. His hair was cut, and he looked different from the photos you recognized him from. His eyes were narrow, guarded, as he assessed your potential threat.

“You need trouble breathing, agent?” Natasha teased from beside you. “You can reach out and touch him if you want–to check if he’s real.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, still groggy.

The man’s face didn’t change. Still stoic–still staring.

The Winter Soldier.

His name was attributed to his preservation in the Arctic, you had always presumed, but now you couldn’t help but think that maybe it came from his gaze–cold and icy.

You knew that you would most likely be physically competent if you were to oppose him, but there was a look in his eyes—something that told you that he could end you without a single coherent thought entering his mind.

“Nice to meet you.”

His tone was flat, but he forced a corner of his lips to turn up into a smile.

“Nice to meet you too, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Your eyes lingered on him momentarily before you were forced to look away.

His eyes were so intense, as cliche as it sounded, as if you could feel yourself losing your own way in them. His glances were not lingering, nor relenting, as he continued to bore down on your soul. A staring problem, it seemed.

“Do you really have to put her down every time we fly?” Natasha asked. “I mean, I just don’t understand.”

“She’s quite the escape artist,” Fury mused. “She doesn’t seem to love the safe house.”

Barnes’ eyes narrowed at this–he scanned you over again, face softening with infinitesimal amusement.

“The cage,” you corrected.

“The safehouse, and it’s just temporary—until people know you won’t be trying anything on your own.”

“She’ll be good,” Natasha said, doing a better job at reassuring herself rather than reassuring Fury. “She was always the best of us all.”

Your expression didn’t change. That was a lie, and you all knew it. You were sure Fury had the classified rankings of each Red Room pupil, your own name falling–assumedly–much lower than Natasha Romanoff’s.

“Show her what we’re dealing with, Nat.”

As Natasha pressed the case file into your lap, you felt the unexpected indent of a gun on your thigh.

You slid your hand up your own leg to brush your fingers along a thigh holster, and you detached a TT-30 gun from your lap.

You turned it over in your hand, running your knuckles along the indents on the grip. It was the perfect weight in your hands, and your brain hummed, reaching an ecstatic high.

Palming a gun was probably the safest feeling you could remember–similar to how you imagined regular people felt about coming home for the holidays. A sweet mother’s perfume, the low murmur of a dad’s voice, the scuffling of a family dog–that feeling of familiarity was only achievable for you with a Soviet-made semi-automatic in your hands.

“H.Y.D.R.A. wants their files back; Mission reports from Barnes’ time as the Winter Soldier,” Natasha said. “Intelligence tells us that they’re already looking to fill the void he left behind.”

“Like a new super soldier?”

“They have other soldiers,” Fury said. “Just none as efficient as him.”

Russia wanted to assess what they had done correctly with Barnes. What worked, what didn’t–whether it was her personality before the serum, or his physical strength. They needed S.H.I.E.L.D.’s knowledge to get that information.

“I’ll go into SVR headquarters in Moscow tomorrow night to assess what they have so far. You and Barnes will go to the Victory Day gala–see if you recognize anyone.”

“Why would I recognize anyone?” you asked.

Going back to Russia wasn’t the most ideal scenario, let alone infiltrating a high-profile government-hosted fete. You expected to see some familiar faces, but whether it was H.Y.D.R.A. or Red Room employees would determine your level of complicity in the matter.

“Not you–Barnes.”

“Why am I involved then? It’s not like he needs my help to recognize his handlers.”

He tensed at the words, his fingers stiffening with a muted clank.

Sensitive. Apparently being the Winter Soldier didn’t teach him to keep his emotions to himself.

“Natasha seems to think you have a certain knack for consoling the… how do I put this… perturbed.”

You squinted at her, blinking recurrently.

Fury continued, “Dear Bucky here has been struggling with the assimilation to civilian life. Nat believes you can help him with that.”

You snorted, “I’m hardly a civilian myself.”

“You always had this fervent empathy–even in the Rooms. You could talk any of the girls down.”

“Convincing a thirteen year-old girl that the world isn’t ending tomorrow is so much different than consoling a grown man–let alone a grown man confronted by his captors.”

“It’s necessary,” Fury asserted. “This is low profile. No bodies, no hysterics.”

“Okay, but we don’t have to talk about him like he’s not here,” you hissed.

“Yeah, right–sorry James,” Natasha said. “But you’ll do it?”

“It’s not like I have much of a choice.”

“Great, fantastic.”

“It will be pleasurable working with you, ma’am,” Barnes remarked, reaching out his metal hand for you to shake.

You dropped your gun, slipping your left hand between your thighs to meet your holster, as you reached to meet his brisk palm.

His eyes dropped, gaze following your gun going up your dress.

A really bad staring problem.

[i-am-a-fan]

character design is cool up until i get to color choices. then its like. oops!! you put red here!! this now looks like that one character ™ and you failed!! congrats!!! but it’s the one color you were going to use as a base :(

[miiyas]

ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM …

so what if satoru gojo is attached to you by the hip ? he’s your husband ! what do you expect ?

wc: 639, fluff, fem reader, hi shoko cameo, not proof read

“so,” shoko sits across from you in the booth seats of the cafe, stirring her drink with a spoon as the tinking of the glass meeting metal fills the dense atmosphere. she removes the spoon from the drink and taps it on the rim of the glass, getting rid of the droplets before pointing the curve to you. “are we gonna address the elephant in the room ?” she raises a brow and stabs her elbows on the sticky table but she’s not looking at you, shes looking at the individual beside you.

there, satoru gojo sat, stabbing at his fifth slice of cake, bread crumbs hanging from the corners of his lips, standing out like a sore thumb.

the air goes silent and you’re still sitting without much of an expression, posture straight as your eyes shift over to see your husband stack the demolished plate with the other four, letting out a content sigh and leaning back on the booth seat.

“he insisted on coming with,” you say hesitantly, giving shoko a weary smile as satoru throws an arm around your shoulders, pointing a finger at shoko with furrowed brows. despite his masked eyes, she could tell that they were glowing with tease and pride.

today was supposed to be a girls day. just you and shoko, getting some lunch and coffee and maybe shop around if time was kind. though, gojo just had to come along, whining at you during the entirety of the time you were getting ready.

“c’mon, shoko. i gotta make sure that my girl is safe !” he leans in close to your cheek, puckering his lips as you lean away with an annoyed raise of a brow. you slap a hand over your husbands mouth, muscles straining as you try to push him away from your proximity.

“or just eat like a glutton,” she mutters under her breath.

“sorry, shoko. he’s attached to the hip today.”

“yeah, i can tell.” the brunette rolls her eyes and leans back, picking up her mug of coffee and pressing them to her lips, eyeing the two of you with suspicion. “gojo, don’t you have a mission to be at in what,” she glances at her watch, flicking her eyes at the time before darting them back at the man. “twenty minutes ?”

“twenty, fifteen, don’t remember.” gojo waves his hands in dismissal, scoffing at the thought. “i can be there in thirty. maybe an hour.”

“maybe before the higher ups scold you again,” you mutter, bringing a hand to his ears and tugging it, leaving the man to yelp in pain.

“okay, okay !! i’ll go !!” satoru waves his hands in surrender before you let go, massaging the his red ear for a moment before sighing. he fixes his mask, pouting and digging his elbows on the table, resting his head on his hands.

“after one more cake.”

“what did you just say ..?” you creak your head to the side to see your husband already waving at the waitress to come by the table again, practically on the edge of the seat and gaining the attention of other residing customers.

“waiter, waiter !! one more strawberry shortcake. no, make that two ! one for me and my wife !” a childish smile grows on his lips as he practically glows and orders another slice of cake, leaving you to grimace and hang your head and shoko to groan and place her coffee down, muttering about how ‘she ‘needs a smoke’.

despite your husbands refusal to leave your side, it makes your cheeks burn red and a silly smile creep on your lips, your heart beating as it did when you were sixteen and the day he gave you the diamond ring— aching and heavy with love and yet still bleeding for more.

[l1tw1ck]

Symbiotic Bonding

Bottom!FTM Peter Parker x Top!Masc Reader

🕸️ Word Count: 1,477 🕸️

AFAB Language Used | [Series]

CW: Non-Con, Yandere Peter, Murder (Blood, Mentions of Corpses), Wombfucking, Creampie

Peter blinks a couple times, trying to wake up from what he thinks is a dream.

Blood is splattered all over the floor. Hundreds of glass shards reflect the bright moon outside. Did he kill someone?

Peter whips his head around. His heart drops. A corpse. With markings around their throat. He looks at his hands, it's not his usual suit color. Black and white. He can clearly see the victim’s blood on this suit.

There won't be any evidence he was here. His suit…or whatever he's wearing, won't leave footprints. His mask is intact, no stray hairs to analyze.

He gulps. He needs to figure out what happened. Maybe he passed out while trying to defend them. Peter lets out a shaky breath before leaving.

Peter still can't wrap his head around what happened. He knows that the symbiote you were studying escaped and chose him as its host. You’ve been looking for it but he's scared to tell you. He also knows that the person he killed was someone who worked in your lab. What he can't understand is why. If it happened in the lab or the building itself, he could blame it on the misfortune of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. But it happened in their home. In a place Peter would never have a reason to enter. He didn't even know their name until a few days ago.

Then it clicks.

They touched you. He assumes the symbiote has some sort of connection to you. Is it capable of having complex thoughts and feelings? Or could it just see you as its caretaker?

Whatever it is, he needs to get rid of it.

“Peter, you’ve been zoning out lately. I know one of your friends went missing so if you need a break, I’ll make sure you get paid time off.”

“What?” He looks at you, bewildered.

“You didn't hear? Flash disappeared without a trace two days ago.”

What could Flash….

“Oh my God.” Peter covers his mouth. A while ago, Flash had a private interview with you. Long before the symbiote was even discovered. It knows his memories.

“You should go home.”

You're right. He needs to focus on getting rid of this thing.

“You're so soft, Peter.” You gently kiss him all over. “And you feel so good.”

Peter moans as you fill him up.

“I’m glad you killed my husband." Your cock pokes his cervix.

Peter wakes up gasping. Another corpse. The corpse of your husband. He didn't even know you were married. You must've kept your ring somewhere safe, that kind of jewelry isn't safe in a lab. But how did the symbiote find out?

His spider senses alert him of your presence. You're never going to forgive him. He tumbles to the ground. His body begins to move on its own, getting him out just before you open the door.

Peter doesn't stick around to watch.

In the morning, an email is sent to the team. Everyone's getting time off. The place can't really function without you and everyone knows it.

No matter how hard or what Peter tries, it won't leave his body. When he's out of the suit, it just…becomes part of his skin. It leaves…a tattoo. He doesn't like to look at it.

He has blood on his hands. He has to tell you. He knows he does.

“Peter…” You let him into your hotel room. There are bags under your eyes. It's his fault. He did this to you and he can't blame the symbiote. He should've told you. “How did you know I was staying here?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Peter frowns. “It’s my fault, Doctor.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The symbiote—” He drops to his knees. Strong feelings of arousal overtake him like waves in a storm. He finds himself grabbing your pants, part of the symbiote transfers itself to you. You start to feel what Peter feels too. You know what he wants. What he needs.

You get down and pin him to the floor. Your aggression causes his head to hit the ground too but he can't feel the impact. Your hands move on their own to remove both of your clothes. “Peter-”

He moans your name and spreads his legs, his pussy dripping slick onto the ground. You're both fully aware of what your bodies are doing and you can't stop it.

“What– what’s going on?” You sound exasperated as your body forces you to penetrate him. Peter can see your pain. He knows how much you hate this. There's nothing he could do to you that's worse than this. It hasn't even been a day since you found your husband's body.

“I’m sorry- I didn't—” He hisses in pain. You're just as big as you were in his dream. “I can't control it-”

As you reach deeper inside him, you start to lose your awareness. You groan with pleasure as your brain removes all memories of your husband and replaces them with ones of Peter. “God…Peter~”

Peter looks at you with confusion.

“You're so fucking sexy.” You slide your thumb around his womb tattoo.

“You- your- your husband-”

“You wanna be my husband, baby?” You smile.

If the symbiote can access memories, it's no surprise that it can alter them.

“I..”

“You're so cute.” You kiss his cheek. “I’ll buy you a ring tomorrow.”

Peter looks at you in fear. He can't get over his guilt. His mouth hangs open once you reach his cervix. He whimpers your name.

“Fuck….I could…” You bite down on your lip.

“Do it.” Peter's mouth moves on its own again.

You bury your face into his shoulder as you thrust inside him. You can hear his adorable voice even better now.

Peter's almost surprised it doesn't hurt. There's nothing normal or realistic about this, it seems reasonable…in this situation. He doesn't understand the symbiote’s obsession with you. Is it amplifying his desire for you or is it acting on its own? He can't tell.

You marvel at the feeling of penetrating his womb. Your horny sounds drown out the guilty and fearful thoughts in Peter’s brain.

It's not a sin to enjoy himself, it's not like he's the symbiote. Does he really have to resist the very thing he's been dreaming about for months? The thing that's drastically increased his masturbation frequency? Maybe the symbiote is just making him act on the desires he was too ashamed of. Maybe he is the bad guy, but…

You shakily moan Peter’s name as you start to fuck him. He can see your excitement painted all over you. If you're feeling good, then isn't that a greenlight? If you're acting like this just from your memory being altered, then technically, you are consenting. Technically.

Peter wraps his arms around you. “More– more~” He moans your name. “It feels so good!”

“I didn't think it'd be possible..” You sloppily thrust into him. “What if I….”

Peter already knows what you're thinking. “Yes~ inside– come inside~!” He already comes at just the thought.

“Peter~” You give his skin a gentle kiss before coming inside him. You pull your head back. “Can I…Can I keep going?”

Peter smirks. He can tell you're still hard. He wraps his legs around your body and sits on top of your lap. He's at the point where he can no longer tell whether it's him or the symbiote in charge. “I wonder how this’ll feel.” He holds onto your shoulders and starts to ride you. “Oh God..” His mouth hangs open. It's even more intense like this.

He picks up the pace, increasing the erotic sounds in the room. If it's not soundproof, you two are gonna have a few complaints. He leans in to kiss you, sealing your relationship with his tongue. He's fully embracing this even though he knows he shouldn't.

You deepen the kiss and grope his body. He moans into your mouth. The two of you come at the same time, cum dribbling out of his pussy.

Peter relaxes his body, his breaths in sync with yours. He soon falls asleep in your arms, finally catching up on all the hours he missed this month.

It's been a week and everything has been completely altered to benefit Peter. He has no idea how but the story of your dead husband was twisted into a false story. Now, reports say your friend who was staying over got caught in the crossfire between criminals. They got into your apartment and used your ‘friend’ as a hostage. Not a single person or website has any information about you ever being married. Although, that'll change once you two set the date.

He knows it's awful and completely contradictory to his beliefs, but he's glad it worked out. He loves you.

[affableramen]

Bad spirits

𝜗𝜚 Kazuha, Wriothesley, Tartaglia, Neuvillette, Pantalone, Ayato, Capitano, Dottore, Alhaitham, Baizhu

𝜗𝜚 Angst+comfort; mentions of injury; Capitano & Baizhu slightly yandere-ish

Divider by @anitalenia

Kazuha

When you break his favourite vase that was a gift from Ayato Kamisato—a fine vase of violet colour, with flowers painted all over it—Kazuha becomes shocked first. You did it in the middle of an argument, but the both of you knew it was completely unintentional. When the shattered piece of decor lies still on the floor (in shambles), forgetting all your bickering you go on your knees and help Kazuha clean the floor and get rid of the dangerous sharp edged pieces that could harm either him or you. 

He is still slightly mad with his eyebrows furrowed, but he allows you to help him. Though, it might take a while for Kazuha to cool down. He is usually a reserved man, but the heated argument took its toll on him.

“Are you mad at me?”

“It was a personal favourite.”

“I am so sorry, but you acted like a dick.”

Kazuha did not even rush to deny it.

“I’m definitely not a saint.”

Wriothesley

You break his favourite mug in the middle of the night when you woke up to drink some water. The sleepy you accidentally pulled on the glass a little too much and it hit the mug next to it, dragging it down. Wriothesley sleeps deeply and doesn't hear any noise but upon waking up in the morning you tell him the story as you ought to. To that Wriothesley rubs the bridge of his nose and says: 

“Forget it. At least you didn't hurt yourself.”

And he must be right, you could easily get injured while the mug was falling down. Luckily, you are not hurt and Wriothesley, even being slightly upset over his favourite mug, is genuinely not so attached to material things. 

“I’ll just buy another. Maybe the same one. It’s not living things, they are replaceable.” 

Tartaglia

It was not exactly your fault to have broken Tartaglia’s red mask when you were crashing out. He put in the dinner table and it had to be just a little swing of your hand and the mask flew into the mirror on the wardrobe. Luckily to the both of you, the butler was near and he could deal with the mess immediately. Shocked by the butterfly effect and still devastated over the conflict you had, you bursted into tears. Tartaglia was heated too, and he was not exactly in good spirits, however he rubbed his face and rushed to soothe you. 

“Let them clean the mess, we’ll go upstairs for now. You’re full, yeah?”

You were not hungry at all after the warm meal you had, and even after the bickering Tartaglia still remained the gentleman you fell in love with.

Neuvillette

Breaking his cup into halves was definitely not the wisest idea to grab his attention. It was the look of horror in Neuvillette’s face that made you realise what exactly you just did. You looked at your hand in which there was a shattered glass and a few fresh cuts on your hand, already bleeding. Should you have loosened up your grip, as the shattered cup dropped onto the floor with a loud clinging noise. Neuvillette could have gone furious for you breaking his belonging, especially the one he used to drink his dear water from, but upon seeing you get hurt by your own stupid action, he could not help but rushing to you. Monseiur gently took your hand and opened your palm gently. He looked at the palm and concluded: “Foolish woman. I’m going to get a healer.”

It was just two sentences but you felt such emotion, such care for yourself. “ I didn't mean it”, you say, “I didn't mean it, Neuvillette. I was just… upset and stressed out, and you did make it any easier with your cold attitude.”

“I’m sorry, my love. I will be more attentive next time.” 

“I’m sorry I broke your cup. I guess the both of us are at fault.”

Neuvillette noded, his face twitching with worry and other intense emotion you could not comprehend. “Stay here.”

Pantalone

“That was the last straw. Are you happy now?” Hisses he after you break the intricately-done, antic lamp that was supposed to be a gift to Pantalone from one of his business partners. With your leg you mash the insides of the former desk lamp, driving them out to the corner of your bedroom.

“Can’t you see? She’s flirting with you!”

“It was just a gift, why do you have to see everything as a means to court?”

“Because it is one, look, Pantalone. There is even a letter.”

Hearing that Pantalone slowly approaches you and the broken piece of decor, his look is intrigued but disappointed at the same time. Never he had think that he’d miss something so on the nose. 

“Indeed it is”, he finishes reading the letter. “Darling I didn't know. I’m so sorry.”

“One day you have to face your fangirls and just draw a line, ‘kay?”

“I should have done it long ago, I fear”, he takes your hands, intertwining them with his own and looks you right in the eyes. “Don't need no one other than you.” 

Pantalone pulls you into a tight embrace, staying like that for a couple of long still seconds.

Ayato

Ayato wasn't exactly pleased when you broke his favourite fan that was a piece of decorum in the living room. You did it out of disappointment and boiling up inside you felt upon seeing some other women trying to grab Ayato’s attention. You have never been so possessive before like you are today, and for a good reason. Those girls had no right to peek for long at the man who was obviously (and officially) taken. Your emotions were bottled up because you couldn't make a scene just there, you couldn't fight or threaten those shameless bimbos. 

Ayato was rather tired and simply rolled his eyes on top of his head and slumped into his chair. 

“Are you done?”

“Yes I am.”

“Wonderful. I’ll ask Thoma to clean this up. Go to bed.”

He was not exactly kind, and his what usually was a request, seemed like a merciless order to you. 

Capitano

“Enough, woman, you’re just going to embarrass yourself furthermore”, Capitano says as he once again catches a dish thrown at him by your hand. “I said—enough.”

You lower your hand, gently put the remaining non shattered dish on the table and leave the dining hall. Capitano spends a couple of seconds thinking if he should invade your privacy and impact you somehow, or leave the things as they are. Torn between two evils, he finally makes his way after you and catches your arm, gently though.

“We shall discuss all our misunderstandings… in private”, he looks down, as if he is too ashamed to stare into your eyes, though you don't even see his face behind the mask. 

“In the civil manner”, he clears his throat, “as a proper couple.”

The tension between you two dies out for a moment and the Captain releases your hand, his strong posture faltering as a sign that he is consumed by very strong emotions right now. 

“Why not”, you wipe a tear from your eye. “I might humour you this once.”

Capitano offers you his hand and you accept it. As he leads you to the bedroom, he gives you quick glares here and there. 

Dottore

Dottore stares at his broken vial, his face contorted into a grimace as he stares you up and down. 

“I cannot believe you’d do that. Looks like I underestimated you��, he throws the wasted vial into the bin and barks at you. “Leave. I don't want to see your face for the rest of the day. As if you don’t know how much I worked on this shit.”

That’s right. It was just one vial, but for him it was still a piece of effort. Seeing Dottore pushing his anger back as he needs to focus on his job you have a sudden change of heart. You stop behind him, watching as he works.

“Don’t breathe onto my neck, now go away”, he remains the same grumpy old man but you understand it that deep inside his heart he just doesn't want to admit how exhausted and frustrated he is. 

“I will aid you.”

“I have clones enough to aid me”, he snorts.

“Dottore.”

You do not take any objections instead put your gloves on and start assisting him.

“Don't be stubborn”, he says.

“No, you don’t be.”

After a while of grunting in frustration and constantly rejecting your attention Dottore finally gives up and lets you help finish the task in the lab together. 

Alhaitham

In the light of you two arguing Alhaitham certainly expected you to pull a rash action like throwing his book into the river. He sighed and pulls his hair back, trying to cool down. Was it necessary for you to throw his book away? After all—what has the poor book even done?

“You never listen to me!” You cry out. “You only follow the principles of your book, that’s it. Have you ever thought out of the box?!”

“This argument is huge nonsense. I don’t even know why I spend my time on it in the first place.”

“Really? Maybe next thing you’re gonna say is that you don’t even know why you’re staying with me?!”

At that, Alhaitham finally displays a visible sign of irritation on his face. He is a calm man usually, but you have been pressuring him for a while now.

“What do you want me to do?!”

“Listen to my damn opinion! For once!”

You step back to take a breather, and Alhaitham lets out a loud, heavy sigh.

“Good. Tell me your opinion then. I will listen to it, I promise.” His voice has gone softer and he looks at you awaiting for your response. Perhaps you two can still come to a peaceful solution.

Baizhu

“I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not”, Baizhu turns away. He sighs and groans and overall is trying to cope. His lips are already hurt from how aggressively he licks them. 

“I didn't mean to tear your bracelet during our little fight. I was stressed out.”

Baizhu does not honour you with a single look and walks back to his desk. He takes a seat and continues writing his prescriptions to customers as if nothing happened. His hand works, but you can see the wrinkles forced by anger deep inside him to cripple on his face. He ignores you standing there, looking at him and waiting for any reaction that he would make, but he seems to not even acknowledge your presence.

Finally, he rises and walks to hand the prescription to the customer. 

“Okay”, you say to yourself, grab your things and attempt to go home, but in the last moment Baizhu sighs, his thin body blocking your path.

“Sit on the guest couch and wait for me.”

“So bossy”, you shake your head, perplexed with his smugness and sudden assertiveness that Baizhu perhsps kept inside for a good reason. You were pretty tired yourself so there was no point in disobeying the pharmacist. Baizhu waited until you took the seated position, eyeing you with heavy stare and furrowed eyebrows. Once you stopped there, his face took a softer look and he began working on the last few prescriptions.

[teatreeoilll]

2006

“No - No - Don’t put it in your bag. Gojo - Seriously, stop.”

“Well we need to put it somewhere, don’t we?”

“Alright. Alright - Let me hold it. We just need to think of something smart - ow! Little bastard. If you bite me again I’ll leave you here.” At the edge of the street stands the rubble of the house Gojo destroyed half an hour ago - together with the curse in it. The other houses surrounding you look run-down and uninhibited, blending with the rain clouds on the horizon. “I don’t really mean it,” You whisper.

Gojo leans forward and rubs the head of the tiny gray kitten you’re holding. The kitten hisses back at him. “I don’t think he likes us.”

“What makes you think he’s a he - ow! Maybe it’s a she,” You lift the kitten up, but it only digs its tiny claws further into your hand. “Alright, I won’t check -” You bring it closer to your chest, rubbing it on the head to calm it down, and look back up at Gojo, “But we need to figure out what to do with it.”

“Shoko can take care of its leg.” Gojo points to a nasty wound on the kitten, “And then we’ll just put it in your room.”

“My room? Why not your room?”

“Aw, come on. It’s just for a little while - look, it’s already purring. I bet it thinks you’re his mom.”

“Yaga will kill us.”

Gojo’s lips curl up in a familiar smirk, “Only if he finds out.”

“Fine. But you’re buying the cat food.”

-

“Gojo -” You whisper into the dark hallway, “Gojo - Wake up!”

A few seconds go by and the door creaks open. Gojo’s still halfway into putting on his t-shirt, “What is it?” You stare a moment too long at his abs, “If that’s what you came for I’ll take it off -”

“Don’t be dumb, you oversized noodle. Something’s wrong with the kitten.”

Inside your room, Shoko and Geto are kneeling on the floor over the kitten. All your hear are quiet retching sounds and worried whispers.

“He keeps coughing up like that. Do you think he’s sick?” You ask as you and Gojo kneel with the others, looking at the little kitten shaking its head, “Maybe we need to take him to a vet.”

The kitten wobbles a bit when it moves towards Gojo. “Come here little one,” Gojo whispers as if no one can hear him, “What’s wrong with you? Huh?” He runs a finger between the kitten’s ears. It climbs onto his knees, then wretches again, unleashing a surprisingly big and slimy hairball on Gojo’s lap.

“Oh - God - That’s -” Gojo takes the kitten off his knees. He swears it’s smirking at him. The room is silent for a moment before you let out a snort, and everyone but Gojo howls with laughter. “Quit laughing! D’you have a wet wipe or something?”

“I -” You huff out laughing, wiping the tears pooling in your eyes, “I thought it was sick -”

Geto’s cheeks are bright red and he’s folded almost in half as he sucks sharp breaths through bouts of laughter, “Good thing you called Satoru, poor thing just needed something to look at to get him to vomit -”

“Seriously! Stop laughing and get me towel or something -”

In the doorway, Masamichi Yaga clears his throat.

-

“I’m not saying get rid of it.” The little kitten strolls on papers on Yaga’s desk. Rain hammers on the window glass. “Just put it back where it came from.”

“How can we put it back where it came from?” You retort, “It’s tiny! It’ll freeze, or it’ll starve or -”

The kitten looks up, its green eyes pointed straight at Yaga’s stern expression. Yaga sighs.

“Come on, Yaga -” Gojo bats his white eyelashes as if he’s the one about to get kicked out in the rain. Yaga sighs again.

“You can’t keep it in your room anymore,” Yaga says as he takes the kitten from the desk and places it on his lap, “But we’ll figure something out. Now get to bed, all of you.”

-

2017

“Mochi!” Gojo ducks down to pet the cat as he exits the building. It hisses back at him. “You’re getting old now, you little monster. You better start making amends soon.”

“Earl still doesn’t like you, huh?” You chuckle, coming out from the building after him.

“I don’t know how he likes you after you named him Earl.” Gojo looks down at the cat, who left him to rub on your feet. “Bootlicker,” he mutters under his breath.

“Don’t be jealous, Satoru,” Shoko’s smoking a cigarette by the entrance, “Winston can sense it.”

“Don’t even let me get started about naming a cat after a pack of cigarettes -”

“Oh and Mochi’s better?” You chuckle, petting Earl on the head, “Even though nothing beats Yaga who just calls him “Cat” or Suguru’s ‘Bruce Lee’ -”

Suguru. There’s a silence.

Earl meows. “Aw - Earl, you want a treat?” You reach into your pocket, “Lucky for you I came prepared.”

Gojo chuckles, “If I meow, will you -”

“Definitely not, Satoru.”

“Are you sure?” Gojo drawls, leaning forward for his face to be an inch from yours, “Because I’ll meow if I have to.”

You roll your eyes and press a chaste kiss on his lips, “Please don’t meow.”

[covenofagatha]

But you're my stepmom! (Part 2)

Agatha takes you out to dinner.

Word count: 2500

Warnings: none (I think)

A/N: this ended up being way longer than I was planning, so hope you all enjoy. Happy Agatha night to all who celebrate!

Taglist: @stayevildarling @i-just-cannot @hazey-g @buttercandy16 @320viada

“You’re home early,” your mom says when you walk through the front door. You check your watch and shrug. 4:15. Granted, if you had come from school, you wouldn’t be back right now. 

After your encounter with Agatha, you had quickly scooped up the broken glass, tracked down Wanda, and then driven her back to school to drop her off. She had asked if you were coming, but you were buzzing with the thought of dinner with your step-mother that night so you knew there was no way you could’ve focused. And there was no point going to seventh period anyway. It was history – your least favorite subject. 

So Wanda went back to class and you went shopping. You didn’t know where Agatha and you were going for dinner, didn’t know the dress code, but you knew how the older woman dressed and you weren’t going to look homeless next to her. 

At the mall, you were able to find a tight black dress that accentuates your curves nicely. The neckline was bordering on inappropriate and the hem came down to your mid-thigh, but it was cheap and it made you look good. You had hidden the bag inside your backpack to avoid your mom asking questions. 

“I have some homework to do and then Wanda and I are getting dinner,” you tell her. Your mom is a bit touchy with the subject of your father and Agatha, so you know better than to tell the truth. 

“Sounds good, hon,” she says, turning back to her computer. “Did you have a good day?” 

You hum noncommittally and then go upstairs. The first thing you do is take a shower to wash the chlorine from the swim you and Wanda took earlier and then you curl your hair. You’re not sure why you’re putting so much effort in to look nice for dinner with Agatha. You tell yourself that it’s just because she always looks like she’s just stepped off the cover of Vanity Fair and you don’t want to appear underdressed compared to her, but a small part of you knows you want to look good for her. You shake your head to get rid of the thought. 

You apply some light makeup on your face and then slip into the dress you had bought. You dig through your closet and find some short heels that pair nicely. Fuck, you hope Agatha is taking you someplace fancy and not just a chain restaurant. 

Your phone buzzes and you look at it. It’s a text from an unknown number: I’ll be there in 20. 

Who is this? You type back, figuring it’s Agatha but just wanting to make sure. You find it amusing that you haven’t saved her number. You get an eye roll emoji in response and you smile. 

20 minutes to spare. You hate to admit it, but you spend most of that time pacing back and forth in your room, wringing your hands nervously. You’re not sure why nerves are twisting in your stomach. Maybe it’s just because you’ve never spent any one-on-one time with your step-mother before. Maybe it’s the way she was looking at you when she was cleaning up your leg earlier, or the way she squeezed your thighs when you were sitting on the counter. 

No, definitely not the latter. 

You finally give up on trying to calm down. You throw a hoodie over your dress so your mom doesn’t see it and walk downstairs. She hardly glances at you from her spot at the kitchen table. 

“What time will you be back?” she asks. 

“Maybe by 8?” you guess. Once again, you have no idea what you’re getting into with Agatha. 

“Where are you guys going?” 

Can’t answer that either. “When she picks me up, we’re going to figure that out.” 

“Well, have fun and don’t stay out too late.” 

“I won’t,” you promise, walking over to give her a kiss on the cheek. She’s been looking older every day. The divorce was really hard on her so she’s been burying herself in work for the past two years and it’s finally catching up. “Make sure you eat something.” You get a text. I’m out front, from a still unknown number. You smirk to yourself. “I’ll see you later, mom.” She pats your arm and you walk outside. 

A black range rover is parked to the right of your house, out of sight from the windows. You open the passenger seat and get inside, tearing off your hoodie. Thank god you dressed up. She’s wearing a dark burgundy suit that dips low, showing some cleavage. Her long dark hair flows down her back and her gold earrings glint in the sunlight. She looks hot. 

And based on how she’s looking at you, she appreciates your outfit as well. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, breaking the silence. 

“You’ll see,” she says mysteriously, shifting the car into drive. The ride to wherever you’re going is filled with awkward silence. You don’t know if you’re supposed to say something first, but she was the one who dragged you along. 

You purse your lips as the minutes pass. You sneak a glance at Agatha and she looks perfectly content. “So, where’s my dad tonight?” you finally ask, not being able to take it anymore. 

She smirks knowingly. “A work dinner. You know how things are around this time of the year.” Suddenly, you get angry. You don’t know. You haven’t lived under the same roof as him in two years. 

“Oh, sure,” you say, voice caustic. “Back when my parents were still married, he was busy all the time. Glad to hear it’s more of a seasonal thing now.”

She shoots you a look, face soft. “Honey–”

“You know he cheated on my mom, right? What makes you think he won’t do the same to you? Maybe there isn’t a work dinner at all,” you whisper conspiratorially, feeling horrible the moment it comes out of your mouth. The divorce has filled you with a rage that is hard to control and it slips out at the worst possible times. And now you’ve undoubtedly made the rest of the night even more uncomfortable than it already was going to be. “Fuck, Agatha, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” 

She doesn’t even seem phased, just reaches over and pats your leg. “I know how tough this must be for you.” 

You can’t help but roll your eyes. That’s all you’ve heard for the past two years. But you do still feel bad for your uncalled outburst. “That doesn’t make it okay. Plus he’d be a fool to cheat on you,” you mutter under your breath, blushing slightly when she smirks. 

“How does this sound: tonight, I’m not your father’s new wife. I’m just a woman who wants to get to know you a little better. We can eat, talk, have fun. It doesn’t have to be a step-mother-step-daughter bonding thing if you don’t want it to be.” 

“That would be nice,” you begrudgingly admit. She winks and turns into the parking lot of the new Italian steakhouse that has just opened up nearby your house. “Agatha, this is–”

“My treat,” she cuts you off. “Let’s go, sweetheart.” You trail behind her into the restaurant, gaping at how nice it looks. “Hi, reservation for two under Harkness?” It was always wickedly satisfying to you how she didn’t take your dad’s last name. 

The hostess nods and beckons for you both to follow her. She seats you at a table tucked away in the corner and places menus in front of you. 

“Jesus,” you say, flipping through. 

“The first time is always a bit overwhelming,” Agatha says, your cheeks heating up at the double meaning. “How’s your leg doing?”

You had completely forgotten about the cuts. “Oh, it’s feeling better. Thank you, by the way. For cleaning me up and not saying anything–” You remember her rules and you shut your mouth. She chuckles. 

“Of course, sweetheart. Like I said, our little secret.” 

The waitress comes over and takes your drink orders. You order a shirley temple and Agatha gets a glass of red wine. When she comes back with them, you make a point to stare anywhere but Agatha when she licks her lips after she takes a sip. 

“Are you ladies ready to order?” The waitress asks. Agatha recites some dish from memory and you are sure you look like a fish out of water when the waitress turns to you. Agatha stifles a laugh and orders the same thing for you. 

“What did you get me?” You turn back to her once the waitress is out of earshot. 

“The Filet Portabella. Trust me, you’ll love it.” You’ll have to take her word for it. “So, how is senior year going?” 

You launch into the speech that you give every single time someone asks you that, something along the lines of: school is great but it’s stressful with the college search and no, you don’t know where you want to go yet or what you want to major in. It’s one of your least favorite, yet most-often asked questions. 

Agatha hangs onto every word out of your mouth, asking some follow ups. You do have to admit, it is nice to talk to a grown up and actually feel listened to. 

“So, the girl in the pool with you today. Is she your friend, girlfriend..?” Agatha asks once she’s exhausted the school topic. 

“Oh, Wanda? No, we’re just friends. I don’t have a girlfriend. Wait, how did you know I’m gay?” You’re not sure why you’re so flustered. 

“Your dad mentioned it. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t breaking into my house for a little romantic rendezvous.” Her tone is teasing. 

You blush even harder now. You’re 18 years old and you’ve never had anything close to a ‘romantic rendezvous’ with anyone. “Um, no. She’s just my best friend.” And then because you’re having trouble breathing with her staring at you like that, you try to turn the tables. “You never broke into anyone’s pool when you were in high school just to go for a swim?” 

Her eyes glint mischievously. “Never for anything as innocent as just a swim.”

Your mouth runs dry at the image of a younger Agatha (although imagining Agatha right now works too) skinny dipping in a pool with a lover. And then there’s the thought of you and Agatha in her pool. “Oh?” you manage to croak out. 

Agatha leans in closer across the table, voice dropping lower. “My friend and I got caught one time by my neighbor. He was supposed to be out of town another two days but came back early. You should’ve seen his face when he walked out back to find us making out in his pool. My friend was so scared, she ran out and jumped over the fence. And then I had to explain myself all alone.” 

Your breath catches, mouth opening ever so slightly. “She? You – you’re…” Agatha…likes girls?

A wide smirk slowly spreads across her face. “I don’t like labels. But yes, I’ve dated my fair share of women.” 

“Oh. Cool,” you rasp. Thankfully, you’re saved from having to figure out something else to say by the waitress setting two hot plates in front of you. 

“Enjoy!” she says, and leaves you two alone again. 

You pick up your fork and knife, slicing easily into the meat. You hesitantly pop the piece into your mouth and moan instantly. The filet literally melts in your mouth, giving way to possibly the best thing you’ve ever tasted. 

“This is so good,” you mumble while chewing, looking back up at Agatha, who has a strange look on her face. Her eyes are darker than before and you raise an eyebrow. 

She blinks and then takes a bite of her meal. “I’m glad you like it sweetheart,” she says, watching you dig back in. You both eat your food in silence and when the check comes, Agatha doesn’t even look at the bill before slapping down her credit card. 

“Thank you for dinner,” you say. “I had a really nice time.” 

Agatha gives you a real smile. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ve really enjoyed tonight as well and I hope we can start spending more time together.” You open your mouth, maybe to protest or maybe to agree, but at that moment, the waitress comes back with her card. 

“You both have a lovely night. And can I just say, you two are a really cute couple.” 

You choke on nothing and you suddenly are doubled over in a coughing fit. Agatha politely thanks the waitress before coming over to you and patting you on the back. Your throat begins to hurt and your vision blurs with tears, but you can’t stop. She presses your drink into your hand and you take a big gulp, wincing at the burn from the carbonation. You take a few more slow sips. 

“You okay?” she asks quietly, now rubbing circles on your back. You cough weakly a few more times before your breathing returns to normal. You stand up, embarrassed. She chuckles as she wipes the tears from your eyes. “You can’t die on me now, sweetheart.” 

You run a hand over your forehead. “I’m okay!” 

“Is the thought of us being a couple really that unappealing?” Agatha murmurs playfully into your ear as she leads you out of the restaurant with a hand around your waist. 

“What? No! I was just startled. You’re my step-mother.” Are you imagining the hint of a frown on her face or is it really there?

She opens the car door for you and then gets in the driver’s seat. “Any plans for the weekend?” 

You had honestly forgotten today was Friday. “Um, I don’t think so. My mom’s working all day tomorrow so I might hang out with Wanda or something. I have homework I should probably do as well.”

She hums. 

“Do you have plans?” you ask. 

She chews on her bottom lip for a moment. “Your father and I both have some work we need to do. It’ll be a chill weekend.” 

“That’s good,” you say awkwardly. “I am sorry about what I said earlier. About my dad.” 

She glances at you. “Don’t be. I can only imagine how angry and hurt you are.” 

“I’m not angry with you. You’re actually not that bad.” 

Agatha laughs out loud at that. “Wow, thanks so much, sweetheart.” The pet name, as they have all evening, makes your heart skip a beat. 

“You know what I mean,” you grumble. 

The drive back to your house goes quick and soon enough, she’s parking in the same spot as earlier. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you say again. She smiles softly and leans in. You forget how to breathe but she brushes her lips against your cheek. 

“Good night, honey.” 

You get out of the car in a haze, mind spinning. 

[nemisuki]

𐔌 ✧.* ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴄɪᴘᴇ .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ || Maybe there’s a purpose behind his baking after all!  

᧔o᧓ || katsuki bakugo x f!reader, she/her pronouns, pure fluff, no smut or angst, oneshot, crush au, oblivious + foodie reader, flustered bkg, acts of service, realizations, he’s just a lil guy, 663 word count

“Oi, slow down will ya?! Food ain’t going nowhere!”

It was almost humiliating how he doubted her ability to eat.

The blonde would never admit it, but even she caught him off guard. it just seemed like the girl never got full!

Despite the amount of dishes he brought out, she kept returning for more, more and more!

“Uwahhh! You made dessert too Bakugo?!”

Her eyes practically sparkled as he took a — notably mouth watering — apple pie fresh out of the oven.

Absolutely baked to perfection.

A glistening golden brown as he sets it on the counter before her. She’s clearly holding back the urge to inch closer.

He huffs.

Grabbing a knife to swiftly cut the sweet treat into small slices.

“It looks soooo good!”

“Tch, of course it does! I made it!”

She gives him a pleading look, only making him roll his eyes in response.

Begrudgingly taking a slice — both the largest and most presentable one — then placing it on a plate, swiftly sliding it across the counter.

A bright smile forms on her face as she eagerly grabs a fork.

“Watch it dumbass, it’s fucking hot—“

“Agh!”

“For the love of— you idiot!”

He’s quickly scrambling to fill a glass of milk despite his irritation — a small feeling of worry creeping in — handing it to her with a stern expression.

She doesn’t deny the help.

Instantly chugging the cold liquid as it begins to soothe the burning ache of her tongue.

“I fucking told you to eat slower!”

The girl could only giggle at his usual grumpy nature — knowing he never meant any harm with his yelling — used to it by now.

His eye twitched soon after.

“What’s so damn funny huh?!”

“N-nothing! Nothing! I just find it a little odd how someone so angry can be so good in the kitchen.”

“Hmph, I’m damn good at everything!”

“Can’t deny that when this is so tasty! How’d you do it?!”

“As if I’d tell you my secrets! Just eat the dang thing!”

She pouts but nonetheless begins stuffing her face.

Her cheeks turning puffy as she nibbles on the pastry — the sight almost comical — almost… if it didn’t make him feel some type of way.

The pure enjoyment in her expression made his heart stutter — staring at her a little too long for his liking — it was new to him.

Had him shaking his head to get rid of such thoughts, furrowing his brows in confusion.

The hell was that?

“Can you try making a cheesecake next time Bakugo?! Your baking is always my favorite!”

His gaze returns to her.

Taking note of the small crumbs on her lips, eyes filled with innocent hope as she tilts her head, straight up resembling a chipmunk with her food.

He should be telling her no — remind her of how stupid she looks — or even chase her away, like he does with the others.

The kitchen being his domain whenever he wants to unwind.

But for some reason — as if his body acted without thinking — he hands her another slice with a grumble.

“Maybe if you stop being a klutz, then I’ll actually think about it…”

That earns a small cheer from her.

And the reaction only fuels his ego with pride.

“I promise! Oh I’m so excited!”

He looks away — has too — before she could see the way his face heats up.

The small twitch of his lips at her excitement, her yearning to try his food, words that not many people have said to him.

Probably because he’s always kicked everyone out when he’s cooking — tried the same with her — but she’s damn persistent.

His eyes suddenly widened with dramatic horror at the realization.

The impossible somehow becomes true — mentally spiraling right then and there — as the girl continues to eat, practically licking the plate clean.

The conclusion appears clear as day despite his constant attempts to deflect the inevitable.

Maybe the secret ingredient to his baking, truly, is love.

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

ᴀ/ɴ ||| wrote this while eating as u can tell lolololol, i loveee baking themed fics!! anywayssss everyone welcome sunny to the taglist, oh em geee! ty for joining the katsuki bakugo cult where we live laugh and love anything this man does! sending u hugs and kissessss (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ ɴᴇxᴛ ꜰɪᴄ ||| katsuki bakugo x f!reader (fluff) ᴛᴀɢꜱ ||| @leleyro @zaiban2989 @qyuin @sunnyalmighty — ໒꒰ྀི ´๑  ̫๑`  ꒱ྀིა

[ajortga]

inspiration

pairing: wednesday addams x fem reader

word count: 1.9k+

summary: you are wednesday's inspiration to end her writer's block.

warnings: mentions of blood, knives, stabbing, (but only briefly, story is full of fluff)

-

“Hey baby,” you say softly, closing your dorm door gently before you approach your girlfriend, busy with her novels on her typewriter. “Writer’s block today?”

Her eyebrows scrunch together, like if staring down her typewriter would magically have the words come to her.“I told you not to call me that mi corazon. And yes, I will admit I am quite struggling with my second book. It’s hard to incorporate feelings that aren’t just vicious. No ideas.” Wednesday says firmly, clicking on the keys before turning to you, her deep brown eyes looking in yours. 

You laugh, sitting next to her and placing a hand on hers, “Oh, but you can call me that?” You roll your eyes, taking out her left braid and redoing it for her. 

“It’s different.”

“How so?”

“Don’t question me or else I won’t call you that again, puppy.”

She looks down at your figure, tongue sticking out slightly as you tangle the three parts of her hair to intertwine. “Did you give Thing a snood?”

It’s a little quiet, faint pop music from Enid and Yoko’s room coming from outside. You smell like you just came from a garden, the black-haired girl taking the hint that you smell earthy, musky, and slightly sweet from your natural undertones.

You tie the ends as you nod, “It’s getting a little cold, don’t want him to feel left out, do we? Why? Did he tell you?”

Her eyes soften, of course no one could see when they did except you, but she glances to the glass that leads to outside. “Hinted, he wore that thing for a week already without taking it off.”

You grab the rubber band and tighten the braids, kissing her hair softly. “He loves it that much, huh?”

“Love is a strong word,” Wednesday states, not mentioning that the creature was only wearing it because he loved you as close as he loved her. “But it’s a close competition.”

“Mmmm,” you nod, looking at her as you smile. “Oh, I came in here to tell you that I gotta help babysit my nieces and nephews in an hour and won’t be back till night.”

Oh. At least she would have alone time for her new novel, Wednesday thought.

Right? 

A new novel that she has completely blacked out on, Viper de la Muerte yet to have another plot hole to discover. Now that she thought about it, maybe she should map out the feelings the girl has. What makes her angry, upset, triggered… Happy. Wednesday shivers at the thought. But what’s a story with just angst and blood? No one would want to read that if it was published. She would think about that later.

“I see,” she says, taking note of the way you’re playing with her fingers. It’s something you do when you’re nervous or hoping for a response. A response that Wednesday has no clue what you want her to speak. 

Maybe you were telling her to get some alone time, or so she doesn’t worry the whole day and search the woods high and low for you. She did do that once. When you and Enid went out for a candy run. To say the least, she was pissed.

‘Worriedly freaked out’ Mrs. Weems would say.

“Well,” Wednesday clears her throat, trying to get rid of the awkward silence, “If you need me I’ll be here.”

Oh…

If any human being were to look at you, they would see no change in your expression.

Wednesday is not a human being. She’s studied you in and out. Slight raise of your eyebrows indicated you were interested, a scrunch of the nose meant you were trying to be playful. But there were some things that she could just feel, like when there's no spark in your eyes. You looked a little disappointed.

“Unless,” the girl says quickly, “You want me to come with you?”

Your eyes widen, and the spark comes back again, she has to let out a sigh of relief. “Could you? You would do that?”

“Of course I will bab-” She coughs again, “Mi corazon. You should know that by now.”

She would do anything for you. Even if it meant having little kids tug at her hair.

You smile.

-

“I’m beginning to regret this,” the black hair girl says, slightly irritated as you bounce baby James up and down in your arms. Baby James, who is completely peaceful and giggling, while baby Mabel tugs on Wednesday’s braids, babbling and giggling. 

She gives her a hard tug on the ends, making Wednesday flare up for a moment.

“Hey, hey.” You say, quickly to your girlfriend’s side as you carry Mabel with one arm. “We don't tug on people’s hair, okay? Not me, not your brother, not my girlfriend, definitely not my girlfriend! Don’t do that.”

Mabel throws her arms up in the air and rips four strands off your hair.

“No!” You firmly say. 

“See, I’m telling you,” your girlfriend gives Mabel a cold glare, which makes Mabel giggle and kick. “I tell her to stop, she doesn’t.”

She’s got a point, but you don’t give up that easily, “We just have to be patient,” the baby brunette lifts her small chubby hands to your hair before you look at her and firmly say, “No.” She immediately stops and babbles, “Won't ...Tchhh..Touch..” 

Your eyes crinkle into a smile. “See! She did it!” You yippee.

Well, I guess these small creatures are trainable after all, Wednesday thinks.

Before you can cradle Mabel and play with her hair, two voices shout in the distance, coming down the stairs, “Auntie Y/N!” Another boy and girl stomp in, running with toys in their hands that are currently in the air.

Wednesday makes a small scowl, looking at the tiny kids stampeding up to you with giggles of joy.

“Hi guys!” You smile, being tackled to the carpet as two boys cling onto your legs and the girls jump and down around you.

They look at Wednesday, which she can almost feel their curiosity, innocent eyes searching her. “Who is she? Pretty braids.” One of the girls, Jess, asks as she looks at the black haired girl. 

She would’ve expected you to say that she was your friend, especially in front of all these toddlers, but instead, you pick Jess up and swing her in the air. “That’s Wednesday, my girlfriend.”

“Awww,” the two girls say as they babble and wave to Wednesday. “Can we touch your hair?”

You look at Mabel as she looks up at you, “Won’t tug.”

“Okay baby,” You say, kissing the top of Mabel’s head. “Don’t hurt her. I love her too much for her to go bald.”

It almost makes Wednesday’s cold heart warm up. A small twitch of her mouth smiles. A smile that only Uncle Fester would bring before she knew you. A smile that she would only feel when she solved another mystery and connected the dots. 

But you could make her heart feel like goo anytime. To say the least, seeing you all soft around kids made her feel something. Inspiration.

As you and Wednesday came home from the night, her braided hair having slight ends sticking out from all the kids admiring and playing with it, she immediately walked to her typewriter.

2 months of writer's block, 2 months of having no clue what to add to enlighten Viper’s personality. But here she was, like she had new fingers. It felt like they just knew what they needed to say as they clicked and clacked against the typewriter. Magic that comes from the start of her fingertips. You were her inspiration.

————————————— CHAPTER IV ——————————————

One thing that Viper would never like to admit, to even herself, is that she feels more than these emotions that she thought didn’t exist. She thought she was emotionless, not feeling an ounce of joy. Even the word joy made her want to tear a knife through her ragged heart. For once in her life, she felt an emotion that occurs once in a blue moon. An emotion that started to occur so many times before and after a blue moon.

Perhaps it was weird to her at first. Weird to be able to feel something deep in her soul. But she felt her ragged heart feel warm. Soft and pumping with blood. Soft enough to feel protective of what mattered most to Viper. At first, she felt eager and overly protective of her sword that was given to her as a gift. But now, she feels as though she was given a gift that was sent from above. Hell, she thought it didn’t exist till she came.

Viper de la Muerta felt soft, fond, and joyous for someone she never knew for long. She only started to know her recently, yet her family never made her feel soft. Sure, she was protective over them, but never enough to have the fondness dissipate in the matter of seconds. This girl was different, everything opposite from de la Muerta. She was happy, unafraid to show Viper her worst side, unafraid to lean a little closer to Viper when she herself was crying, she was the sun to Viper’s moon. 

Oh, and there came the toddlers. Viper had never seen this side of this girl before. She was gentle and sweet at all the same time, like she would kill to protect these little ones, or to be able to make them happy. The look in the girl’s eyes made Viper wonder if she looked at her with the same feelings.

Viper had something to look up to. Someone. And she knew that this girl was the one. As soon as she saw it with her own eyes, the person who made her feel productive all these past weeks jumped in front of her to save her life before it could be too late. She had taken a knife through her chest before it could go through Viper’s heart. As soon as the girl dropped to her knees in a flurry and saw her eyes, confused and scared, Viper was crying. For the first time in 12 years, she was crying. 

She felt all the emotions she never felt before from the span of now, and when she first met the girl. She felt proud whenever she brought something up and saw the girl light up into a smile. Upset, when she had made her cry. Worried, when she nervously scratched the chair she was sitting on, praying to Lord that they wouldn’t take her away from Viper. Anger, as she hunted the person who held the knife and hurt you. She used the same knife as she brought down the blade the 23rd time to his bloodied body. One for every day she had been unconscious. Guilt, Viper felt guilty every day you had laid on the hospital bed, eyes shut with an oxygen tank over your nose, so guilty that she wished that you didn’t come in time to save her so she could save you the trouble from being hurt. She’d survive a knife that was close to her heart. If she didn’t, she’d still wish that something would’ve happened differently so you didn’t take the blade. She felt guilty that she felt guilty about growing so attached to someone and not being able to let them out of her sight.

But she felt something else. She felt love for her, something that she couldn’t figure out before she thought it was too late. She had kept her close, reading her favorite books next to the unconscious girl in the hospital. She had talked to her like she was awake and breathing, she had held her every night till she fell asleep and got better. Viper had made sure she was safe.

Her name was Y/N.

[anisangeldust]

Worship this love 𝜗𝜚⋆

Summary: Coriolanus can’t seem to stop winning, of course he has to make sure you’ll never leave..

Part: ← iv

Warnings: misogyny, cheating, death (poison), coriolanus’ fucked up mind, descriptions of a dead body, mentions of blood, smut (p in v), baby trapping, dubcon, semi forced pregnancy? Minor threats.

A/N: DDDNE, please don't read if any of the warnings make you uncomfortable. Your internet consumption is not my responsibility. happy new year!! Sorry this took me so long. This series gave me terrible writers block for some reason ENJOY!!

“I should that bitch an Avox, maybe then she’ll learn to behave” Coriolanus chuckled as you sat on his lap, one hand on your waist and the other cradling a glass of neat whisky.

That warned him a playful smack to his chest “Coryo!” You scolded. Classic. Despite how much Livia did to anger, hurt, and even injure you, you never wished ill upon her. It was one of the many reasons, Coriolanus thought, that she’d never be on your level. She would never be as genuinely pure.

“Dove, I’m going to get rid of her” one of his hands toyed with the ruffles of your uniform “you know that, and it’s not your fault.” His voice cooed sweetly.

A gentle sigh left your chest “I know.. I just” you look into his piercing gaze, the adoration bubbling in his crystalline pupils was almost tangible as he watched you speak. “I don’t know.. I just hate to waste a life like that-“

“Her existence is a waste of life.” Coriolanus cut in sharply, setting down his drink and holding your face in both hands “my sweet, baby dove. It’s my choice that Livias life is going to end. Don’t feel guilty. She’s trying to hurt you. And that’s not okay.” He murmurs and pecks your lips, a gesture you happily reciprocate.

“Okay..” you nod and smirk gently. Climbing off his lap to resume cleaning.

“Good girl” the president praises and pats your bottom. Ever since you two first started sleeping together, you’d made sure to put on a little show of wiggling your hips with every swipe of a duster, bend down unnecessarily, or accidentally forget to wear a bra so your perky nipples were visible through the uniform fabric. All of which earned you a spanking or rough fuck.

You both loved every second of both.

——

“President snow. Your berries and root.” A hired, non avox worker set them down in his office under strict orders. Coriolanus could almost smell the enticing aroma from here, yet they seemed to simultaneously irritate his nose..

The president gave a curt nod “thank you” he stated before waving his hand to order the worker away.

An avox came in a small bit later, their hands gloved with a cage gripped tight between their fingers.

The avox set the cage down and uncovered it, revealing a plump and skittering rat, the perfect test subject for the level of poison in the berries.

Coriolanus stood up and leaned against his desk, nodding to gesture for the avox to begin. Taking a single berry, the worker sets it in the cage of the rat, letting the rodent sniff around for it.

It doesn’t take long for the animal to eat the poisoned nightshade. And it took even less time for the creature to start flailing and then stop breathing, laying dead in the confines of the cage.

A smile played at the edges of Coriolanus’ mouth “good.. very good” he nods and grabs a sticky note, writing down instructions to the chefs on making the berries into a pastry, and the hemlock into tea.

“Give this to the chefs. Let it fall into the wrong hands and I’ll have your head” The young president hands the basket and the note to the avox. “And get rid of the rat” he scoffs.

——

Coriolanus observed the head chef very carefully as he reduced the berries into a jam and steeped the hemlock root and stems into Livias daily chamomile tea.

The poisonous jam was then pipped onto some pre-made croissants, so inconspicuous, ready for consumption.

Just as Coriolanus moved to leave, you come up behind him “is that what you’re doing with the nightlock?” You giggle and kiss his shoulder.

“Nightlock?” He looks down at you and takes your chin with two fingers.

You nod “yeah. Deadly nightshade? Hemlock? Nightlock. It felt appropriate” you giggle.

Coriolanus shakes his head and smiles “you’re too cute” he chuckles and pecks your lips, murmuring against the affectionate exchange— “I don’t want you to see Livia die. Stay in my office” he coos.

You nod obediently and nuzzle his cheek “m’kay”

“Good girl” he murmurs and moves his hand to playfully squeeze your rear. Your doe eyes gaze making his trousers feel a touch too tight.

——

The morning air of the Capitol felt a little too thick, whether it was the wight of his own decisions, or the constant pressure of Livias presence, something or someone was always crowding Coriolanus. Though he knew subconsciously that the minute her pulse stopped, the smoke would part.

You were his only respirator, the constant air tank in the fog. As much as he tried to convince himself that love was pointless to him, he would be reminded that he loved you. And oh he loved you. Your fluffy hair and happy attitude was the sunshine cutting through his dark days.

That’s what kept him going as he climbed into bed that night, mentally preparing to have to deal with the press, how he was broken over Livias death, and how he was trying his best to help her sudden illness, but in the end it won.

He was torn from his thoughts by the devil herself voice “Coriolanus?” Her body was next to his before he could respond.

“What?” He sighed and looked over at her, his eyes dark and cold, the opposite of his gaze when he looked at you, even she knew that.

“C’mon! Don’t be like that. Our wedding is soon—“ that almost made Coriolanus puke in his mouth “—and we are going to be expected to have an heir. So we could at least practice?” She giggles. Coriolanus had to hide his grossed out scowl “mhm. How about tomorrow night? I’ll be all yours okay?” He looked over his shoulder and Livia nods “Okay!” She giggles and turns over “oh, and once we’re married I want to discuss some staff with you”

By “some staff” he knew she meant you, but he chose not to comment on it, he knew she wouldn’t live to see their wedding. Whether it was the berries the next morning or blunt force was unknown, but she wouldn’t make it.

——

You sat in Coriolanus’ office, snug in his chair with a book and the promise that he’d be back soon. “I don’t want you to see it” he murmurs and kisses your head “it’ll be over quickly, then I’ll be all yours” he tries to soothe the guilty feeling he can tell is brewing in your gut.

“Okay.. I love you” you murmur and he chuckles “I love you too, little dove.” And with that, he leaves and locks the door.

At the dining table, Livia was sitting and waiting for tea and breakfast. Coriolanus sat down and started to sip his coffee, nothing out of the ordinary for them.

The avoxes set down breakfast, pouring Livias tea, and then yours. Making sure to switch the teapots.

“Mmm. I haven’t had pastries in a while” she giggles and takes a bite “what’s in here? Jam? It’s very good” she smiles and takes another bite.

Coriolanus lets out a genuine smile to Livia for the first time ever, though it’s for different reasons than she might think. “It’s a new berry the gardener planted. I figured you’d like it.” He smirks.

She washes the pastry down with the tea “mm, it was delicious” she coughs “the tea is quite bitter though. I guess it was a bad batch” she shrugs.

“Probably. Sometimes the leaves get weird” he nods in agreement, though his eyes were trained on her face, he almost felt disgusted for paying so much attention to her, but he couldn’t let her live.

It only took a few moments before she started having a coughing fit, pouring herself more of the bitter (hemlock) tea and drying to ease the soreness, but it only made it worse. “Coryo..?” She wheezed out and gestured to her throat “water..” her voice was scratchy, he could tell her throat was closing.

“Hmm? Oh my. Yes, I’ll be back” he feigns concern and gets up, taking his time to get her water.m he comes back to Livia wheezing and gesturing for him to come quickly. Coriolanus hands her the water, which is quickly guzzled and then spat out as she starts to convulse.

“I can’t.. —it.. Coryo?” She whines and tries to stand up, only to collapse on the floor.

Coriolanus can’t help but giggle as the staff all stand and do nothing, even though he knew they all disliked her; (also they were all threatened into silence) but the amount of apathy was almost satisfying.

He leans down as she started to grip at her neck, her lips turning blue “pity really, you had so much potential.” The president shakes his head and sits back down, continuing to eat his breakfast, showing Livia in her last moments that he never really did care about her anyway.

After a moment, her body laid still, a small pool of blood tricking down from the edge of her mouth. Another minute passed before a daring avox reached out to check her pulse, looked over at the nonchalant president and nodding.

“Dead?” Coriolanus asks a different worker, who promptly checks herself and confirms.

“Dead.”

The instant euphoria the President felt was almost orgasmic. She was dead. He never had to deal with Livia ever again.. nothing was between you two now..

Daring to look ate her corpse, Coriolanus was met with glazed over eyes and blood trailing from her mouth and nose. She was dead, and he had never been happier.

——

The doors of his office opened quickly, Coriolanus raced in and scooped you up, capturing your face in a searing kiss. “Dove..” he murmurs and starts to walk, out of the office and up stairs, kicking open their his room door.

He sets you down on his beautifully plush bed and starts to tear off your clothes. Your giggles filling the room “so I’m assuming she’s gone?” You murmur and he nods “you’re mine..”

He had crazy eyes, the kind that made you want to simultaneously run away and open your legs, of course you chose the latter. Coriolanus didn’t even bother taking off your underwear, he just ripped a hole right over the wet skin of your cunny.

“Oh fuck babygirl..” he sinks a finger in your tight pussy and growls “I’m gonna breed you..” his voice is low and dark. His hands move off you momentarily so he can undo his pants, allowing both his pants and boxers to fall so his semi-hard length can hang out.

Your eyes roll back “please do daddy” you nod and spread your legs further, allowing him better access to your slick folds.

Today wasn’t a day for foreplay, maybe another, perhaps a day when his ex fiancée wasn’t laying dead in the dining room would be better? No matter, he needed you. And Coriolanus was a taker, so took you he did.

His hard length slid into your juicy pussy, becoming enveloped in your tight heat. The feeling causing both you and the president to moan out loud. “Oh.. mmm— daddy! Yes!” You cry out as he starts to piston his cock into you, the length bullying its way into your cunt.

“Fuck— you’re— always so— tight… no matter how much I fuck you..” he growls and keeps moving, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he holds your legs against your chest. “Gonna breed this— greedy hole..” he croaks and moves a hand to rub your swollen clit.

You let out a gasp and squeal before nodding “please—! Let me come! Breed me!” You beg breathlessly

“Yeah? You’d— fuck— you’d like that huh? Being my bitch? Having me stuff you full of my children?” He grunts before thrusting one more time and spilling his cum into your womb.

His fingers work over your nub until you cum, your pussy clenching Coriolanus’ cock, the import of his release visable in your abdomen “yesyesyesyesyes!” You scream out before gasping for breath, the force of your orgasm almost too much.

The President lays down and pulls you flush against him, breathing in your scent while his hand moves against your belly “gonna pump you full, soon this belly will be plump with my heir”. He breathes the promise,

you look at him with both want and trepidation “what about the press? What will they think?” You murmur and he lets out a hearty chuckle.

“You know what Dove? I don’t give a single fuck. I want you barefoot and fucking pregnant with my seed. You aren’t leaving me. And I’ll never let you go.” While it seemed sweet, you could taste the underlying threat in his words, you try to leave and you suffer Livias same fate.

“I won’t leave, I promise” you murmur and kiss him.

He beams. “Good girl. Now. Let’s get you into something more fitting for a future First Lady.”

Taglist!

@daenerysqueenofhearts @caramelandvenus @yoursrosie @wearemadeofstardust0 @kay-lla @mrsriddlenott @sleekervae @ianales @qoopeeya @arzua10 @matcha-muses @jitsuki12 @nojeicintjzonfhw @poppyflower-22 @lustforrush @jefferson-in-the-tardis @aurabambi @royal-sunflower @rovckwells @rubys-rere @iydImsydxoxo @nyxxoxo @lucyisdoingfine @paradisepoisons @miserableblood @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @sqct @tmblrsexyw0man

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 23

So ch 25 will be the Bruce thingy- have fun with this one 🥹

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 23 >>next

“That’s an insane thing to ask out of me.” You raised an eyebrow at the two men sitting before you. “Sounds like fun. I’ll do it.” Lex just raised an eyebrow as you shrugged. “Just like that? No ‘how dare you dicks do something so stupidly suicidal’, no ‘I should put you both in my pocket dimensions for eternity’ just- I’ll do it?” Slade huffed. “Have you never heard of don’t look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“I don’t know how you were raised, Wilson, but she and I are street kids. Nothing comes for free.” Your laugh drew the men’s attention. “Cynical. But the truth. I need the distraction after what happened to mom… and I want a small favor in exchange. Have y’all ever been on the Justice League’s space station?” The men glanced at each other before leaning in closer to you, their interest piqued. “No.”

“You’re about to be.” You nod towards the wall behind Lex, the one made of just glass. Your unimpressed look stuck on the second Superman, flexing and making faces. Kon-El stopped only when he turned around and saw Luthor's ashamed look and the unmoved faces of you and the other man.

Lex sighed and pressed a button, a panel of glass going down to allow the young man inside. And the young adult was quick to introduce himself. “-between us, I’m the better Superman.” Kon puffed his chest, forgetting for a moment why he was so willing to be close to Lex. “I prefer Bizarro.” The reply earned a stammer from Kon while Slade hid the amused smile behind his glass. “I take it the JL has agreed?” The young man cleared his throat. “Uh- yes. Tomorrow night at 5, so that everyone has a clear schedule and will be there.”

“Good. Tell them I’ll bring company, and to hold their shit to themselves until after the meeting.” You get up as Kon starts talking again. “You know, Jon talked quite a bit about you, and mom would love to see you again, and I heard you like animals- My grandparents got these fluffy cows, they’re real cute-“ He stopped when a flash of a green light and the sound of a door opening appeared, his eyes barely catching Slade leave and not even noticing where the light came from.

“Wha- where’d she go?” Kon turns and asks Lex. “Just missed your opportunity, smooth operator.” Lex rolled his eyes. “Some word of advice-“ Kon snorted at that, lifting off the ground. “From you? Never.” And just like that, the young man was gone too, leaving his creator pouting.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Damian had barely walked inside the manor before his father and Tim, alongside Jason, accosted him. Granted, the teen wasn’t listening to his father; his glare was instead glued to Drake and Todd's snickering forms. Smirking as the others came to see what was happening, his eyes locked with Grayson’s.

“I didn’t come back empty-handed, father. I have information you wouldn’t be able to find on the internet.” Bruce’s jaw clenched at that, but he was interested. “And Talia?” Damian just raised an eyebrow. “She’s a grown woman, vaccinated, I’m sure she’s doing just fine wherever she is.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Are you fucking crazy?!” You yell while diving straight for Talia, who jumped off a skyscraper. The woman simply smiled as you wrapped your arms around her, slowly coming to a stop so you wouldn’t snap her neck. “Perhaps. But you caught me, and I have what I wanted. Your undivided attention.” Talia wraps her arm around your shoulders.

She doesn’t let you speak, smirking at your twitching eye. “I won’t let you get rid of me just because my son made a mistake, a grave one, sure, but a mistake. I grew attached to you and your family in the short time we have known each other, and I won’t let go so easily.”

She was as crazy as she was beautiful. “Lady-“ and she shushed you. “I won’t go anywhere until you accept the fact that you can’t get rid of me.” Maybe you should take Lex up on that family vacation, you definitely needed it. Your mom definitely did after that Levy fucker. You take a deep breath in, exhaling softly. “You’re lucky I have to be somewhere in a few hours and don’t have the time to argue.” You mumble and start flying towards her apartment, ignoring the way she smiled so smugly.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Everyone in the meeting room of the JL's space station seemed to quiet down once Batman crashed into his chair, hands covering his face as the smug Red Hood smiled brighter than ever. It was a terrifying sight. “ ’Ello there, Batsy… You good?” John Constantine asked, the only one brave enough to ask.

The bat man dragged his hands down his face, letting them dangle over his knees. “Sorceress may be dating Deathstroke and Luthor at the same time.” The chaos his words brought only made Jason happier. “My condolences-“ Diana was quickly cut off by Richard Grayson, who finally processed what the older man said. “No- You’re lying, it's not a funny joke B. We've been through this, you're not quite funny-” Denial. His smile was bright, but his eyes were dead inside. “Our sister knows better than to associate with that little-“ Anger. “Does she? Unless Slade told her she wouldn’t, because we sure as hell didn’t tell her that. By the way, look at this one- they’re so cute together.”

Jason knew he was pushing it with the photo of you holding Lex on your shoulder and Slade under your arm, face unimpressed as the men seemed to be pouting while Mark was dealing with some monster behind your form. “No. No- it’s- she’s just doing a job- or it’s mind control-“ Bargaining. “Oh my god- we fucked her up mentally so bad she’s seeking the attention we didn’t give her in old men.” Dick cried. Depression. His gaze raised to the smug Jailbird. “You’re a liar- you liar-liar pants on fire!” Acceptance- oh… Never mind, we’re back to denial.

“He must be lying.” Damian’s voice was heard through the coms, the boy having been grounded until further notice. “She likes the drama and to annoy them, she would never think of such an atrocity… I refuse to believe she has such low standards.” Of course, Jason was lying. But he had accomplices that would make the family question reality.

Speaking of, a green portal opened a few feet away from the Justice League members. The first one to walk through was you. “A few important people to the mission are about to come through. I expect you all to meet them with no threats, just like they will.” You didn’t let them finish, starting to introduce. “This is the director of the Global Defense Agency, Cecil Stedman.”

“Allen of Unopa, a representative of the Coalition of Planets, and Thaedus, the founder of the Coalition of Planets.” Allen was quick to smile and greet everyone while you smile softly as Mark stepped through. “And, of course, my brother, Invincible, and my father, Omni-Man.” Some members tensed as Nolan stepped through the portal. “And Lex Luthor and Deathstroke? Was that it?” Slade nodded, taking your left while Lex stood at your right. Dick was ready to crash out, his fingers itching for a fight. “I understand why they are here.” Hawkman grunted, nodding to the other before turning his glare to Slade and Luthor. “But what relevance do they have in all of this?”

“That’s a piece of information to give the next time. We’re still working to see if the information given checks out.” Your response was as professional as it could be, not giving away anything before shrugging. “And maybe I need a piece of eye candy from time to time since I have to deal with you lot.” Jason could cry with happiness as the rest of the bats crashed into their chairs. It was evil what you two had come up with- well, what he came up with and what you, and the others played along with just because you were bored. Another man came through, followed by yet another man and woman. “And this is Harvey Dent.” Your hand moved to the two behind him. “Tucker Garnet and Jessica Lament, our legal team.”

“In exchange for your help with re-introducing Omni-Man to Earth, we’re willing to share what we know about the Viltrumites and how to stop them. Even offer some help dealing with the little traitor you have running around.” Cecil redirected the attention when he saw Red Robin raise his hand toward the assassin, ready to complain as well. “They’ve been dealt with. Intergalactic prison.” Hal Jordan shrugs. “Right…” Harvey mumbled before clearing his throat. “Here are the papers you need to sign before we talk.”

“What reassurance do we have that you do know how to deal with the Viltrumites? You have one on your side, how will that amount to anything when an army of thousands will come?” At the questions posed by Red Robin, Thaedus was quick to speak up. “He’s not the only Viltrumite that changed sides. And he isn’t the first.” He stepped forward. “I was the first one to rebel against the empire. I was the one who killed the first Viltrumite Emperor, Argall. I founded the Coalition of Planets specifically to fight against the empire.”

“And you’re wrong in your assumption. Their propaganda may have spread far and wide, but the plague wiped most of us out. There’s less than 50 remaining Viltrumites.” Nolan continued. His eyes slowly turned towards his kids as he rested his hand on your shoulder, a proud smile taking over him. “Maybe three less.” Bruce frowned at the insinuation and at the smug smirk that grew on your face. First Joker and now some Viltrumites… would you have been different if he was the father you deserved? He straightened at the thought. Of course, you would have been- this- you being so okay with murder is due to Nolan’s indoctrination, he was sure of it. Well… He was deluding himself to believe that.

“Oh- how nice, we have words-“ Cecil quickly interrupted Hawkman. “You have the only thing that will save your public image. Sign the damn papers so we all can get what we want. Us more allies against the genociders and you keeping the image of the good guys.”  Duke is the first one to get up and grab a paper, with Stephanie and Cassandra quickly following. In the end, everyone did.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It’s been hours of debriefing for both Nolan’s reintroduction and the information of Viltrumites, mainly correcting the deeply embedded propaganda they took as fact. You were tired. So tired. Mainly of how Dick looked at you like a hurt little puppy.

Granted, Lex saved you with a nudge, showing you the time. “Well, I’m sure you all can carry on without us. We have to be present for our reservations.” You smile as you get up from your seat. “A reservation is more important than-“ You quickly frowned as you glared at Superman. “If you dare stop me from spending time with my boos at The Ritz I’ll bite your head off.”

As you three left, Jason hid his laugh behind a cough. Now, while the bat crew cringed at the use of endearment, Nightwing was straight up losing it. The man gagged audibly, sliding down the chair to his knees before curling up on the floor, shaking. “Isn’t the Ritz closed at this hour?” Diana’s question made the man shudder at the thought, immediately getting back to his knees to grab at Batman. “I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them all.” Richard hissed, shaking the man. Kon, decided to get up and move to the other side of the room, to stretch his legs. No other reason. “I don’t know man.” Jason started up, mixing the pot as he smiled under his mask. “It’s kind of cute she calls them her boos.” Dick gagged once more, crumbling to the ground with a whimper. “My birdie- my innocent baby sis-“

Batman could only watch as his oldest started crying- or maybe just hyperventilating, he wasn’t quite sure. “I second Richard.” The older man could only sigh as Damian’s voice cracked through the coms. He… He dreaded the thought that, perhaps, letting go of his no-killing rule would be beneficial. His eyes drifted to Nolan and Mark, who decided to pick up a conversation with Jason. Maybe…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“You lied to them so easily. You’re a terrible liar, usually.” Lex brought up as he changed from his costume to a more space-appropriate suit as Slade did the same. “I’m a terrible liar if I have to come up with something on barely a second, give me a minute or a whole day, and I’ll have a whole story made up.” You shrug.

“Have you ever lied to us like that?” Slade couldn’t help the curiosity that shone through. “What would I gain from that? Lex gives me money when I just straight up ask, and you bring me trinkets from your missions without me even having to mention it. There’s literally no use for me to lie.”

Lex came out with his space suit helmet in hand. “Did you have to call us your boos?” You just smirked. “It was the cringier option. I’m more of ‘my heart’ type of endearment.” Slade looked at you with a smirk on his smug mug. “Is that what you called Giganta on your very short-lived escapade?”

“How about we don’t talk about that?” Lex tutted at your failed diversion. “Aw, did she break your heart?” You gave the bald man a blank stare. “I will throw you into a black hole.” He just laughed.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou @asillysimp @aalunar @cxcilla @sirenetheblogger @pinkluv29 @br33zy-blizzardz @victoria1676 @of-poetry-and-dreams @djpuppy-kittens @wizzerreblogs @galaxypurplerose @burningkittenprince @swanluver @ohnoivefallen

[leighsartworks216]

Oh, Hold Me Now

Zayne x AFAB!Reader

Guess whose period just started haha The things I would do to be in Zayne's arms rn istg

Title from "Hold Me Now" by the Thompson Twins

Warnings: menstruation, period fic, lots of domestic fluff, reader has a uterus but no other gender-defining things

Word Count: 1,726

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

With a whimper, you curl in on yourself. The pain in your abdomen rapidly ramps up. You clutch at your belly, willing it to stop, please god stop. It doesn’t listen until tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Then it slowly ebbs away, letting you breathe again.

You reach behind you, but all you find is a cold bed. You whine, annoyed with your emotions and just how upset you are that Zayne isn’t there. Even on his day off, he doesn’t sleep in.

You slowly slide out of bed. Your feet touch your warm slippers, a gift from your husband when you were dating and had just moved in together. They hug your feet in a familiar embrace, cushioning your weight as you force yourself to stand. You shuffle off to the bathroom.

It’s miserable and uncomfortable and you’re cursing your existence by the time you finish on the toilet. On top of that, you’re almost out of product, and what you have definitely isn’t going to last the day. You groan to yourself thinking about Zayne, on his nice day off, having to take care of you. He wouldn’t complain, but it gives you half a mind to change into real pants and go to the store yourself, just so he doesn’t have to deal with this. The other half is just oh so comfortable in your pajamas. You have enough stuff to last a couple hours, you’ll just go then.

After you scrub your hands within an inch of their life, you open the medicine cabinet and pull out some good ol’ painkillers. As desperate as you are to get rid of this pain, you’re not desperate enough to wash the pills down with water from the tap. Not yet, anyway.

Wanting nothing more than to be at the peak of coziness right now while your insides tear themselves apart, you throw on one of Zayne’s sweaters and leave the bedroom to face the cruel day ahead.

You see Zayne’s head peeking out over the top of the couch as he reads a medical book, as big as his head and as thick as your arm. You would chastise him for working, but he’d say he’s reading for his leisure. The threat of an oncoming cramp forces you to ignore him and turn to the kitchen.

“I already got you a glass of water,” he calls. He turns to look at you over the couch, expression softening with sympathy as you double over, hugging yourself as though you could compress all the pain into a tiny little ball. It grows in intensity for a moment, forcing a whimper from your throat, before finally receding. You take a deep breath and stand back up, continuing to hug yourself. “Come sit down, my love. I’ll make you some tea.”

How could you refuse? You shuffle over and settle down into the plush cushions. You almost whine when he gets up, but you bite it back. You do pout, though, which makes him smile despite your pain.

He rounds the couch and plants a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll only be a minute. Take your medicine.”

The water is still nice and cold when you take a sip from it. So cold you can feel it running down your throat. The pills go down smoothly, and you’re more than grateful not to be choking on pain meds today of all days.

You close your eyes and lean back into the couch, abandoning your slippers on the floor in favor of tucking your feet underneath you. You can hear the kettle starting to bubble as he opens and closes cabinets, gathering what he needs to make you the perfect cup of liquid gold to ease your suffering. The thought brings a mix of guilt and affection; both upset that he is taking care of you on his day off, and glee that he’s, well, taking care of you on his day off. If this was the weekend, maybe you wouldn’t feel as guilty. As it is, he has work again tomorrow, and he had work yesterday, so it’s not so much a day off as it is taking a house call.

He returns with a matching pair of mugs, steam rising from the tops and the warm smell of tea and bitter coffee filling the air. He sets his drink of choice down on the coffee table, but you greedily cradle yours to your chest, letting the heat warm your face and the scent relax your body. He sits back down beside you, drawing you closer to him while being extra careful not to spill your tea. He doesn’t say anything about you wearing his sweater, but he does playfully tug on the hem, signaling that he’s noticed.

You smile for the first time today and tilt your head up to kiss him good morning. “Thank you,” you hum, kissing him again for good measure, before adding, “and I’m sorry.”

He shoots you a disapproving look, softened from his lack of glasses and the morning light coming in from the windows. “Don’t apologize. It’s completely out of your control.” He slips his hand under the sweater to massage gently right where you need it. You relax into it immediately, practically melting against him as he takes care of you. His massages are always the best, and they drastically lessen the cramps that torment you this morning. “Do you need anything else, my love?”

You make a disgruntled noise at the reminder. “I need more product.” You quickly cover his hand with one of yours, heated from holding your mug, to make sure he doesn’t pull away. “It can wait a bit longer, though.”

He chuckles softly, but he makes no attempts to move. His fingers press gently into you, seeking out where you need it the most. You hiss as another cramp assaults you. You instinctively draw your knees up, leaning more of your weight into him as you curl up. He slips beneath the final layers of clothes to lay his warm palm fully over your lower abdomen. The heat sinks in slowly, but it does help.

“Can we watch a movie?” you ask as the pain comes back down, voice slightly rough. “Unless you wanna keep working.”

“Reading a book isn’t working,” he retorts, fully catching onto your jab. You point it out nearly every time you go to the library and he checks out something from the medical section.

“It is when it’s almost a thousand pages of nothing but medications and surgical procedures.”

He leans forward to reach the remote and passes it on to you. While you turn the TV on, he also grabs his mug, before relaxing back into the couch. “What do you want to watch?” he asks instead of continuing to pointlessly defend himself.

You hum noncommittally as you scroll through the library of films and shows, ready to watch at the press of a button. There were a few medical dramas you liked watching with Zayne, if only to listen to him correct the show or insult how unprofessional the main cast is, but they don’t really strike your fancy right now. Something funny would be nice. Or something comforting.

It’s only a matter of time before you put on a familiar movie you’ve seen about a thousand times. Zayne makes no comment on this. Instead, he blows gently on the surface of his coffee and takes a tentative sip. His coffee contains enough sugar to mostly negate the bitter flavor of the drink, but it’s just perfect for him. You drop the remote to the side and take a sip of your drink as well, humming at the perfect flavors that ease down your throat. The morning sun warms you both.

-

“Get up for a moment.”

You hum sleepily, looking at him with tired confusion. “The movie isn’t over,” you mumble.

He gives you a reassuring smile as he rubs your back. “I know, my love. I’m not leaving yet.”

With a gentle nudge, you pull your feet from under you and stand on wobbly legs. You watch as he lays out along the couch, legs parted, and gestures for you to lay back down. He can almost see the spark of excitement in your eye as you situate yourself on top of him, your legs between his and your head tucked safely under his chin. He pulls the blanket from the back of the couch overtop of you, before wrapping you in his arms. One hand massages the tension from your lower back while the other pets your hair. It’s heaven, being in his arms like this. You melt fully into him, forgetting the movie in favor of hiding from the sun outside, burying your face in his chest and shoulder, and breathing him in deep. He smells warm and sweet, with the shock of his aftershave. He smells like home.

You scoot upward to hide your face in his neck. He welcomes you readily, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m sorry I’m ruining your day off,” you mumble.

He tilts his head toward yours slightly, hiding you further from the sun. “How did you ruin it?” he asks softly. “I get to watch one of your favorite movies with you while we cuddle. How is that ruining my day?”

“Cuz you have to take care of me…”

“I always take care of you.”

You huff. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I don’t think I do.” He rests his cheek against you. His lips brush your forehead as he speaks, like little kisses with each word. “Why do you think taking care of you would detract from my enjoyment of being around you?”

You remain quiet. The only reason he knows you haven’t fallen asleep yet is because of the hand you have on his chest that traces shapes over his shirt. He stops massaging your back to catch it, holding it firmer to himself.

“I can’t think of a better way to spend my day off.”

Your sigh fans across his skin, making the hairs on his arms raise. “I love you…”

He smiles. You feel it against your forehead as he kisses you again. “Get some rest. When you wake up, I’ll run to the store.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter

[princessbrunette]

Baby daddy rafe being hit on everyone at the country club and reader not being able to do anything cuz they’re not together<//33

🧸✧˖°❅🍥

you don’t even know why you come to this stupid place anymore.

you supposed it was to keep up appearances. you didn’t wanna be that girl that turned twenty, got pregnant and then disappeared off the radar. why should you have to live in shame of being a young parent if rafe cameron didn’t? you refused, hence why you were taking a quiet afternoon off, sitting with a glass of wine at the country club enjoying the sunshine before you’d have to return to motherhood.

you didn’t expect him to be there at the same time you were. you try it to be cool about it, because you knew you were not with him — but seeing him surrounded by a group of girls batting their lashes and twirling their hair up at him made you feel… icky. you were protective, you supposed. sure, you weren’t together but that was the father of your child. the wine gave you that little confidence boost, so you decide to go and intervene, make something up.

flattening out your sundress you totter over, briefly losing that confidence for a moment as you stand to the side, waiting for your turn to be noticed like the rest of them. when he does, he cuts the flirtatious laughter short to politely shoo them away, wandering over to you.

“hi.” you state bashfully, embarrassed that you have to take up any of his time as if he didn’t put a whole baby in your stomach.

“hey, uh… how’s my girl?” he asks, and for a brief hopeful moment you think he’s talking about you. your chest warms anyway.

“she’s good. sarah is babysitting right now.” you explain softly, finding it hard to hold the eye contact. your eyes drift over to the girls he was speaking to instead, noticing their jealous glares. rafe hums, bringing his beer bottle to his lips and taking a sip.

“‘long as she’s not letting my baby around those pogues.” he comments, displeased and your heart sinks a little. you hate when he’s disappointed. maybe your hormones were still all out of whack. “was there… something you needed from me?”

you blink up at him dumbly, conjuring up an excuse. “w— uh… i was wondering… when you wanted to see her?” you fiddle with your hands, body heating up at how ill prepared you were for this conversation. he blinks, shifting on his feet.

“do i not…come and see her every weekend? i dont…” he frowns, genuinely confused. your eyes widen as you nod.

“yeah, no — of course i was just… wondering if you wanted to see her during the week too or anything? if you maybe wanted to…come over just for a little while?” you shrug, trying to make it as casual as possible. he stares at you for a moment like he’s trying to read you before looking around.

“you— you know i’m a very busy man now and —” he starts but you cut him off, already too hurt to let him continue.

“yeah! no it’s okay i totally get it rafe. i don’t wanna impede, you’re already doing a lot and i don’t wanna ask too m—” you go to ramble politely, humiliated at the speed in which the fat tears spring to your eyes.

“hey— let me finish, alright?” he places two hands on your shoulders and you immediately shut up, blinking up at him tearfully. “what i was going to say, okay — is — is that i’m a busy man now, but… you say the word and… i’ll drop everything, yeah? whats the problem have — have you been struggling with… with the baby or, what?” he looks concerned. maybe it was fatherhood that was changing him but you could tell he genuinely gave a shit. no he wasn’t fully rid of his boyish troublesome ways but there had definitely been a shift and that was enough to relieve you. he watches the stress physically melt from your body, brow relaxing as you sigh.

“not a…problem, rafe really it’s okay i just… it can be a little lonely… and i suppose i just want her to see her parents interacting, show her that we’re okay with eachother you know? give her some healthy ideals.” you explain, but really he stopped listening after the word lonely.

“i—i didn’t know you were lonely like that, you know i… i wouldn’t let that happen… okay? i’ll come over. we’ll hang out… yeah?” one hand that was resting on your shoulder comes up to cup your cheek in emphasis and you so badly want to nuzzle into it, let him take the weight of your head. instead you just stare up with doe eyes.

“yeah.” it comes out as a whisper and he licks his lips, nodding in approval.

“alright then.”

you glance over to the glaring girls and your gaze darts downwards. “uh, i think i’m upsetting your girlfriends.” you chuckle awkwardly, going to step back. he glances over his shoulder, letting go over you before shrugging a shoulder carelessly.

“more like… god damn fan girls. those bit— uh, women won’t leave me alone.” he corrects himself, making a clear effort. “gonna go and find topper now, okay? you gonna be fine?” he takes a step back and you want him to stay but you nod anyway.

“see you, rafe.”

you have a warm feeling in your stomach when you leave the country club. you weren’t together, and only a few weeks ago you were telling people how glad you were that this was the case. but now things were different. his favouritism should have been clear due to the fact he’d knocked you up, and maybe it was pity, if that was something rafe was even capable of — but you didn’t care. rafe liked you the most.

🧸✧˖°❅🍥

[andy-15-07]

would you do a bf.Paul Mescal x reader where she is afraid of spiders and she calls Paul to get if for her?

Spider Help

PAIRING:Paul Mescal x reader

WORD COUNT: 506 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Paul Mescal Masterlis

A/n:I'm sorry I haven't been active in the last week, school kept me busy, now I have more free time and I will respond to all your requests.

Y/N had never claimed to be fearless. In fact, she was very open about the fact that some things in life absolutely terrified her—like the existential crisis she had at least once a week, or the deep fear of getting stuck in an elevator. But nothing, nothing, sent shivers down her spine quite like spiders.

So when she spotted one, large and menacing, sitting in the corner of the ceiling above her bed, her first instinct was to burn the whole apartment down.

Instead, she grabbed her phone and did the only rational thing: she called Paul.

The phone rang twice before his warm voice came through. "Hey, love. What's up?"

"Paul. Emergency. Life or death situation."

There was a pause, and then, in a much more serious tone, "Are you okay? What happened?"

"There’s a spider."

Silence. And then: "Y/N."

"Paul. It’s huge. Like, I swear to God, I can see its eyes. It’s looking at me, Paul. It knows I’m afraid."

A laugh bubbled through the speaker. "Oh, does it now?"

"This isn’t funny! I can’t go near it. I can’t even breathe properly knowing it’s here. Please come get rid of it."

"Y/N, love, I’m at the gym."

"And I’m at home! With Satan on my ceiling!"

Paul sighed, but she could hear the smile in his voice. "Alright, alright. I’m coming."

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at her door. She flung it open so fast Paul barely had time to react before she was pulling him inside.

"Where is it?" he asked, slipping off his jacket.

She pointed dramatically toward the ceiling. "Right there."

Paul followed her gaze, squinting. "Babe, that’s tiny."

"Tiny? That’s a monster! I can’t sleep knowing it’s in here. What if it crawls into my mouth at night? Or worse—lays eggs?"

Paul chuckled as he made his way to the kitchen, retrieving a glass and a piece of paper. "Alright, you dramatic little thing, let’s get rid of your eight-legged nemesis."

Y/N watched from the safety of the doorway as he effortlessly trapped the spider, sliding the paper underneath it.

"Okay, I’m officially in love with you all over again," she sighed in relief.

"That’s all it takes?" he teased, walking toward the window. "Not my charm, my good looks, or the fact that I make you tea every morning—just me handling a spider?"

"You don’t understand, Paul. I would’ve had to move out if you didn’t come. I would’ve vacated the premises."

He opened the window and gently released the spider outside before turning back to her with a smirk. "There. Your home is now arachnid-free. Can I get a reward for my heroism?"

Y/N grinned and stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You get unlimited kisses. And maybe I’ll even let you pick the movie tonight."

Paul pretended to consider it. "Hmm. Sounds like a fair trade."

She leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before pulling back just enough to murmur, "My knight in shining gym shorts."

He laughed, kissing her again. "Always here to save you, love. Even from tiny little spiders."

[miguelhugger2099]

<<Prev Next>>

Nerdy!Miguel that took up extra hours at his part time job so that he could have enough money for new clothes.

Nerdy!Miguel that tried different hairstyles and got contacts to get rid of his glasses.

Nerdy!Miguel who practiced in the mirror a million times different phrases to use on you—the ones the internet told him would work.

Nerdy!Miguel who feels uncomfortable in his new persona but it’s all for you, so it’s worth it.

Nerdy!Miguel who doesn’t mind changing himself as long as you can finally notice him.

Nerdy!Miguel that gulps when he sees you, his palms sweaty by his side.

He approaches you while he plasters on a confident grin. You notice him at the corner of your eye and smile. “Hey, Miggy!” You wave. He feels his knees go weak but he shrugs it off as best as he can. “Trying something new? Looks good.” You feel yourself blushing—Miguel has his hair gelled back, his eyes more noticeable now that they’re not behind glasses and his body in more snug clothing compared to his baggy sweats and hoodies.

“I know.” He scoffs, placing his arm on the wall beside you to lean in closer. Miguel sees you blush and he grows excited. It worked! “You’d look better in something less.”

His comment throws you off and you tilt your head in confusion. “I’m…sorry?”

“Forgiven, sweetheart.”

You try to lean back. “What?” Your eyebrows turn down in confusion and feeling a bit uncomfortable and offended.

“It was a joke, baby. Now give me back that smile, you look nice with that on.” Miguel puffs his chest and stuffs his hands in his pockets. He’s not sure if this is working.

Any other day if Miguel called you baby, it’d probably turn you a puddle of mush but this time, it felt icky.

“Um, okay—uh…” You turn around and luckily find a friend. You turn back to Miguel with a frown on your lips. “I’ll…see you later, Mig…” You quickly scurry away, feeling weird about that whole interaction. Maybe this was just one of his off days? Or a bad day?

Miguel watches you leave, biting his bottom lip while his heart jumps around. Was he doing it wrong? How did the guys online do it? He’ll study some more later.

Nerdy!Miguel who goes home and dives back into his comfy sweaters, hugging his Pikachu plushie as he listens to more podcasts…

[writtenbyan-aries]

we've seen johnnie choking reader with his chain, what about the other way around

This one shot is going to contain a sexual scene of being choked with a chain necklace, PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THAT.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, CHOKING w/a metal chain necklace, slightly dominant!reader, slightly sub!Johnnie, hair pulling, scratching, oral (both), unprotected sex, creampie, filth

Word count: 1.6k | unedited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

As you filled your fifth glass of wine, you heard the door open and close, followed by the sound of footsteps shuffling towards the kitchen.

“Oh, hey baby. Didn’t know you’d be up.” Johnnie walks over, his hand pressing to your hip as he greets you with a kiss to the cheek, “Sorry. Jake wouldn’t stop talking to people.”

“It’s okay.” You smile up at him, “I may have almost finished off that new bottle of wine.”

Johnnie glances over, picking up the empty bottle, “Baby. This bottle is empty.”

“Okay.” You sigh, unable to control your giggling, “Maybe I finished it.”

He laughs as he sets down the bottle, “So, what you’re telling me is that you’re in a fantastic mood.” He smirks at you and your eyes fixate on the metal chain around his neck, “You wore that out?”

You walk over as he looks down at his chest and he watches as you pick up the metal chain. He smirks, licking his lips, “Everytime I see I think of how fucking hot you look with it around your neck.”

You feel your cheeks grow warm, “Johnnie.”

“What?” He dips his head down, “Tell me. There’s something on that pretty little mind of yours.”

You look at him, closing the space between your lips and his hands grip your waist, walking you back towards the counter.

He lifts you up, setting you down as he moves between your knees. Your hand is currently wrapping the chain around your hand, slowly winding it up until your fingers brush his neck, “I want to do it to you.”

He swallows and you loosen the chain, “Only if you want to, baby.” He shakes his head, “You really are a freak.”

His lips crash back onto yours and his words are muffled, “Go ahead, sweetheart.”

You understood, slowly tightening the chain around his neck. You pause the kissing waiting for any kind of reaction from him but he just pulls you into him, lips on yours, “I need you naked for this.”

He pulls you down off of the counter and you keep a loose hold on the chain, leading him to the bedroom. You look back at him, smirking as you bite your lip and walk backwards through the doorway.

Johnnie groans, kicking the door shut behind him, “You’re killing me.” He reaches out for you waist but you put a hand on his chest, “It’s my turn, J.”

This was really getting to Johnnie, the chain, the choking, seeing you in control this time.

“Fuck, anything you say.” He nods and walks over and you turn, “But-“

“Keep the chain on. I know, baby.” He smirks at you as he slips his shirt off, his eyes on you as he waits for you to get rid of the nightgown you put on just for him.

You reach down, eyes on his as you bunch up the skirt part and pull it up over your head, leaving you completely naked for him.

“Fuck, you are so beautiful.” His eyes move up and down his body as he discards the rest of his clothes to the floor and lays on the bed.

You walk over, lip pulled between your teeth as you climb onto the bed. Johnnie he reaches up, his thumb untucking your lip, “Let me do that.”

He slides his hand to the side of your neck and into hair as you lean down to kiss him. You moan out, clenching around nothing as he slowly bites down onto your lip.

Your left hand moves down his body and your right up moves up to grab the chain that’s lying on his chest, “Do you trust me?”

Johnnie nods, “Of course I trust you, baby.” He pulls you in for another kiss and sighs as he pulls his head away, “Just don’t let Jake know about this. I’ll never be able to go to Hot Topic with him again.”

You laugh, nodding your head, “I won’t do it as hard as you do it to me.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He smirks and you smiles before leaning in to kiss down his neck as you wrap your hand around his cock.

He gasps as your touch, moaning when you start to stroke slowly, “Just tell me if it gets to be too much, m’kay?” You kiss back down his neck as he nods, moaning out a little louder when your grip on his cock tightens.

You sit up, glancing down at your hand before looking back up. Johnnie’s chest rises and falls fast, both with pleasure and anticipation.

You wrap the chain around your hand, slowly tightening it against his neck as the speed of your other hand picks up.

Johnnie gasps, groaning out as he bucks his hips. His arm is wrapped around your waist, gripping the flesh of your him while he balls up the blanket beneath him with the other, “Fuck, baby.”

You lean in to whisper into his ear, “Say please.”

He bucks his hips, gasping as you squeeze, “Please baby.”

You let go of the chain, turning your ass towards him as you lean down to lick a stripe up his cock. He groans, gripping your thigh with his hand, “Just.. sit on my face.”

Not pulling away from his cock, you swing your leg over his head and plant your knee next to it, moaning out as he pulls you down right away and sucks your clit.

You moan around him, rolling your hips as your eyes roll back. You pull away, taking a breath and moaning loudly before pushing your head down onto him, gagging slightly around him.

“Fuck.” He groans, earning another gag from you as he bucks his hips once more, “I need you.” He breathes out as he squeezes your leg, “Please, baby.”

You spin around, wiping the spit from your chin on your wrist, “What do you want, J? Hmm.” You straddle his lap as you wrap the chain around your hand.

You tighten it once more, but this time you do it a little harder.

You were nervous, but at the same time, you’ll do whatever Johnnie wanted, and vice versa.

He gasps out, lips parting as his eyes roll closed. You raise your brows, pussy clenching at the sight below you, “Johnnie.” You whine, “You’re so hot.”

You lean down, crashing your lips onto his. You reach down, slipping his cock into you and you both gasp, breaking the kiss as you sink down all the way onto him.

“Oh my god, Johnnie.” You moan out, forehead resting on his, “You feel so good.” You pull the chain up as he leans up to kiss you, twisting it tight against his neck.

He groans as you move your hips, slowly rolling them forward and back before getting into a steady bouncing rhythm.

“Baby.” Johnnie groans out, hand moving up to grip your hip, “You can tighten it.”

You nod, tighting the chain as you continue bouncing in his cock, moaning at the sight of the pleasure on his face, “Does it feel good, baby?”

“So fucking good.” He whispers out, “Fuckin’ love this pussy.” He slowly slides a hand up your back, dragging it down your arm that holding the chain.

His grip tightens around your wrist and he pushes your hand down to pin on the bed, gasping at the sudden tightness from the chain.

“Fuck Johnnie, I’m so close.” You whimper out, grinding your hips down onto his as your eyes stay glued to his face, moaning out loudly as you cum.

You dig your nails into his chest, using him to guide yourself through your high, “You make me feel so good.” You whisper as you loosen the chain, “So fucking good.”

Johnnie rolls you over, kisses up between your boobs as he reinserts his cock. You let out a moan, arching your back as your hand grasps onto the chain.

“Go ahead.” Johnnie whispers, lifting his head, “I love when you do it to me.”

You reach around, grabbing the chain and pulling it up from the back of his neck. You tighten it, hand resting on the side of his neck.

He moans, his thrusts growing sloppier by the minute, “Where do you want me?” He asks lowly and you shrug, tightening the chain, “Where ever you want, baby.”

He groans at your words, moving his head down when you pull him in for a kiss. His hips stutter and you feel his cock twitch inside of you, which earns a moan from you - it’s hot when he does it.

You let go of the chain, letting it dangle and lay on your chest, “Are you okay? I di-“

Johnnie cuts you off as he pulls out and lays next to you, “You were perfect.” He leans over, pecking your cheek as he takes your hand in his, “Is that why you drank a whole bottle of wine?”

“Yeah, I needed the confidence boost to ask you.” You laugh, “I didn’t think you’d say no, but then again. You never know.”

He pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you, “No, my love. I am indeed a freak just like you.”

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I wrote this in one sitting. I hope you enjoyed. Thank you for reading, I love you so much! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!