#legitimate work from home jobs

[techoblog123]

How to Identify Legitimate Work From Home Jobs in 2024

As the demand for work from home jobs no experience continues to grow, many individuals are exploring opportunities to achieve a better work-life balance. However, the internet is rife with scams, making it crucial to distinguish between legitimate work from home jobs and fraudulent schemes. In this guide, we'll provide you with essential tips to identify genuine opportunities and avoid potential pitfalls.

Understanding the Appeal of Work From Home Jobs

The allure of work from home jobs part time lies in their flexibility and convenience. For many, especially those with families or other commitments, working remotely offers a unique chance to earn an income without the traditional constraints of office life. Additionally, overnight work from home jobs can be particularly appealing for those who prefer or need to work during non-standard hours.

Red Flags to Watch Out For

When searching for legitimate work from home jobs, it's important to be vigilant about potential scams. Here are some common red flags to be aware of:

Upfront Fees: Legitimate employers will not ask you to pay any fees to start working. Be cautious of any job listings that require payment for training, materials, or access to job leads.

Too Good to Be True: Offers promising exceptionally high pay for minimal work should be approached with skepticism. If it sounds too good to be true, it likely is.

Lack of Contact Information: A credible company will provide clear contact details, including a physical address and phone number. Be wary of employers who are only reachable via email or messaging apps.

Research the Company

Before applying for work from home jobs no experience needed, conduct thorough research on the company. Here are some steps to follow:

Check Reviews: Look for reviews and testimonials from current or former employees. Websites like Glassdoor and Indeed can provide valuable insights into the company's work culture and legitimacy.

Verify Business Credentials: Check if the company is registered and has a valid business license. You can often verify this information through government databases or business directories.

Visit the Company's Website: A professional and well-maintained website can be a good indicator of a legitimate business. Look for details about the company's history, mission, and contact information.

Top Sectors Offering Work From Home Opportunities

Several industries are known for providing legitimate work from home entry level jobs. Some of the most reliable sectors include:

Customer Service: Many companies hire remote customer service representatives to handle inquiries and support. These roles often require minimal experience and provide on-the-job training.

Data Entry: Data entry jobs are popular among those seeking entry level remote jobs no experience. These positions typically involve inputting and managing data for various businesses.

Content Writing: Freelance writing and content creation offer flexible work from home opportunities. While some experience may be beneficial, many platforms provide entry points for beginners.

Tips for Finding Legitimate Work From Home Jobs

To increase your chances of finding legitimate work from home jobs, consider the following tips:

Network: Leverage your personal and professional networks to discover job opportunities. Referrals from trusted contacts can lead to more reliable job prospects.

Utilize Job Boards: Use reputable job boards such as LinkedIn, Indeed, and FlexJobs. These platforms often vet employers and job postings to ensure legitimacy.

Tailor Your Resume: Highlight relevant skills and experience that match the job description. Emphasizing your ability to work independently and manage time effectively can make you a more attractive candidate.

Best Remote Companies to Work For in 2024

Several companies are renowned for offering excellent remote work opportunities. Here are some of the best remote companies to work for this year:

Automattic: Known for its distributed workforce, Automattic offers roles in engineering, design, and customer support.

Clasva: This all-remote company provides opportunities in software development, marketing, and sales.

Shopify: Shopify hires for various remote positions, including customer support, development, and design.

In conclusion, Finding legitimate work from home jobs in 2024 requires diligence and a keen eye for detail. By being aware of red flags, conducting thorough research, and leveraging reputable job boards, you can increase your chances of securing a genuine remote position. Remember, the key to success is to remain patient and persistent in your job search.

FAQs

Q: How can I tell if a work from home job is legitimate? A: Look for clear contact information, check for upfront fees, and research the company's credentials and employee reviews.

Q: Are there work from home jobs available for those with no experience? A: Yes, many work from home jobs no experience needed are available, particularly in customer service, data entry, and content writing.

Q: What are the best job boards for finding remote work? A: Reputable job boards like LinkedIn, Clasva, Indeed, and FlexJobs are excellent resources for finding legitimate work from home jobs.

Q: Can I find part-time work from home jobs? A: Yes, work from home jobs part time are widely available and offer flexibility for those with other commitments.

Q: Which companies are best for remote work in 2024? A: Some of the best remote companies to work for include Automattic, GitLab, and Shopify, Clasva known for their excellent remote work cultures.

[dragonfly-ventures001]

'Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gains' ~ TOP 25 Business 2024

[techtamilgeek]

ICICI Lombard Work From Home Jobs 2023

ICICI Lombard Work From Home Jobs 2023

ICICI Lombard Work From Home Jobs -PoSP Agent -Point Of Sale Person Work From Home Job, This Is Permanent Private Job You Can Do This Job Anywhere In India.Without Investment We Can Do This Job, What is Point Of Sale Person Job Means It’s Type Of An Insurance Agent Job Whose Work Is Selling Insurance Policies Directly To Customers, So Let Us See Further Information About This Job In This…

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Wow okay the whole "laughing while crying" thing doesn't happen unless things have gone especially pear shaped huh

[quevadilla]

.

[workersonboard]

Legit Data Entry Job Pays $46 per hour

Are there any legitimate data entry jobs you can do from home?  Yes.  If you are looking for a work from home job that allows you to use your keyboard and fingers to type in data (both alpha and numeric) you can find real companies now hiring data entry keyers.  Many people seek out typing jobs because they do not require a lot of experience and are less stressful because you don’t have to deal…

[clownboyskingdom]

Who needs to worry about things when Capitalism can just beat you to death

[rosesradio]

.

[casinocarpediem]

▪︎■☆ молоко 🥛 ☆■▪︎

(Translation: Milk)

Part 1, Part 2

☆ 🔞!!NOT SAFE FOR WORK!!🔞

☆ amab! Switch! Francis Mosses / gn! Switch! Reader

☆ Reader can have either amab genitalia or a strap

☆ soft sex

☆ implied Russian speaking Francis

☆ short

☆ a little bit of a twist in the end

☆ author has played Not My Neighbor

°○☆nsfw under the cut☆○°

Francis was usually a laid back person who had a hard time showing any physical reactions to his feelings (not out of being stoic, usually he's just a little too tired to smile when he's happy or scream when he's scared). He wasn't one to smile all the time, but he showed his affection through other means. Like walking behind your back and kissing the nape of your neck and whispering "Золотце" (darling) behind your ear.

Or offering you some of his milk from work that his job wasn't able to sell so that you both could make something together or eat cereal together. There are a lot of doppelgangers everyday, everywhere, so he really cares about you. Even when he's usually too tired to express it with his face, he'll do so with his actions.

D.D.D. Is a pretty strict, so you and him made it an effort to always do everything required. If he forgot his hat at home he'd have a spare at work. You'd both work on your entry requests and always keep your ID's with you and to try to make an effort to always add your names on the list. Even if there would be an emergency at work. Just some extra measures to ease his anxiousness. And yours.

Other than that, being with him is always sweet. Like a warm mug of milk on a cold day. Steaming and keeping you warm.

Not to mentioned the sex with him. God. There's something about him and sex that makes you glad he's yours and yours alone.

His fingers are long. Not that thick, but he knew how to use them. Keenly observing your reactions within each prod as his digits brushed against a bundle of nerves that has you clutching his neck tight and holding him closer to you as he whispers "Куколка (dolly)... mmm... look at you"

He's not as verbal but he certainly has a smile on his face when he pleasures you and gives you what you want. Stroking and rubbing st your junk, it's wet. Thanks to him latching his mouth on the organ so that you could cum a couple times beforehand. He just wants to make you happy not gonna lie.

Oh, but sometimes he'll end up being a little too tired from work and not have the stamina to move at all. Not to worry! He'll be your pillow princess for the night. He loves those nights. You'll kiss his forehead softly whilst you thrust inside of him. A slow, passionate pace. You're slowly rearranging his guts while he holds the sheets so tight you'll fear they might rip in the morning.

He's a hummer. He'll hum and murmur stupid when he's fucking you. Or when you're fucking him. Phrases like "mmm... oh... З-Золотце... mmmmnnn..."

He can't help it! Even if he tried. He got shy about it actually but when you do engaged in sex more he felt like comfortable doing it. Honestly it's adorable.

Especially when he's giving oral. He's humming and drunk on the taste of you and he's always humming and moaning softly as you use him, and it feels so good. The added stimulation is so goddamn heavenly. And he's always good. He'd never tease and he never uses his teeth. He doesn't mind though if you do it. He's flexible with your desires. As long as if it isn't extreme or legitimately disgusting.

You love him so much and he loves you too and the entire building definitely knows.

...

So when he comes home with an odd demeanor. As if he's forgotten everything you two shared previously, as if hes a totally different person, you'll only have yourself to save before it's too late.

.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Google’s new phones can’t stop phoning home

On OCTOBER 23 at 7PM, I'll be in DECATUR, presenting my novel THE BEZZLE at EAGLE EYE BOOKS.

One of the most brazen lies of Big Tech is that people like commercial surveillance, a fact you can verify for yourself by simply observing how many people end up using products that spy on them. If they didn't like spying, they wouldn't opt into being spied on.

This lie has spread to the law enforcement and national security agencies, who treasure Big Tech's surveillance as an off-the-books trove of warrantless data that no court would ever permit them to gather on their own. Back in 2017, I found myself at SXSW, debating an FBI agent who was defending the Bureau's gigantic facial recognition database, which, he claimed, contained the faces of virtually every American:

https://www.theguardian.com/culture/2017/mar/11/sxsw-facial-recognition-biometrics-surveillance-panel

The agent insisted that the FBI had acquired all those faces through legitimate means, by accessing public sources of people's faces. In other words, we'd all opted in to FBI facial recognition surveillance. "Sure," I said, "to opt out, just don't have a face."

This pathology is endemic to neoliberal thinking, which insists that all our political matters can be reduced to economic ones, specifically, the kind of economic questions that can be mathematically modeled and empirically tested. It would be great if all our thorniest problems could be solved like mathematical equations.

Unfortunately, there are key elements of these systems that can't be reliably quantified and turned into mathematical operators, especially power. The fact that someone did something tells you nothing about whether they chose to do so – to understand whether someone was coerced or made a free choice, you have to consider the power relationships involved.

Conservatives hate this idea. They want to live in a neat world of "revealed preferences," where the fact that you're working in a job where you're regularly exposed to carcinogens, or that you've stayed with a spouse who beats the shit out of you, or that you're homeless, or that you're addicted to Oxy, is a matter of choice. Monopolies exist because we all love the monopolist's product best, not because they've got monopoly power. Jobs that pay starvation wages exist because people want to work full time for so little money that they need food-stamps just to survive. Intervening in any of these situations is "woke paternalism," where the government thinks it knows better than you and intervenes to take away your right to consume unsafe products, get maimed at work, or have your jaw broken by your husband.

Which is why neoliberals insist that politics should be reduced to economics, and that economics should be carried out as if power didn't exist:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/05/farrago/#jeffty-is-five

Nowhere is this stupid trick more visible than in the surveillance fight. For example, Google claims that it tracks your location because you asked it to, by using Google products that make use of your location without clicking an opt out button.

In reality, Google has the power to simply ignore your preferences about location tracking. In 2021, the Arizona Attorney General's privacy case against Google yielded a bunch of internal memos, including memos from Google's senior product manager for location services Jen Chai complaining that she had turned off location tracking in three places and was still being tracked:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/01/you-are-here/#goog

Multiple googlers complained about this: they'd gone through dozens of preference screens, hunting for "don't track my location" checkboxes, and still they found that they were being tracked. These were people who worked under Chai on the location services team. If the head of that team, and her subordinates, couldn't figure out how to opt out of location tracking, what chance did you have?

Despite all this, I've found myself continuing to use stock Google Pixel phones running stock Google Android. There were three reasons for this:

First and most importantly: security. While I worry about Google tracking me, I am as worried (or more) about foreign governments, random hackers, and dedicated attackers gaining access to my phone. Google's appetite for my personal data knows no bounds, but at least the company is serious about patching defects in the Pixel line.

Second: coercion. There are a lot of apps that I need to run – to pay for parking, say, or to access my credit union or control my rooftop solar – that either won't run on jailbroken Android phones or require constant tweaking to keep running.

Finally: time. I already have the equivalent of three full time jobs and struggle every day to complete my essential tasks, including managing complex health issues and being there for my family. The time I take out of my schedule to actively manage a de-Googled Android would come at the expense of either my professional or personal life.

And despite Google's enshittificatory impulses, the Pixels are reliably high-quality, robust phones that get the hell out of the way and let me do my job. The Pixels are Google's flagship electronic products, and the company acts like it.

Until now.

A new report from Cybernews reveals just how much data the next generation Pixel 9 phones collect and transmit to Google, without any user intervention, and in defiance of the owner's express preferences to the contrary:

https://cybernews.com/security/google-pixel-9-phone-beams-data-and-awaits-commands/

The Pixel 9 phones home every 15 minutes, even when it's not in use, sharing "location, email address, phone number, network status, and other telemetry." Additionally, every 40 minutes, the new Pixels transmit "firmware version, whether connected to WiFi or using mobile data, the SIM card Carrier, and the user’s email address." Even further, even if you've never opened Google Photos, the phone contacts Google Photos’ Face Grouping API at regular intervals. Another process periodically contacts Google's Voice Search servers, even if you never use Voice Search, transmitting "the number of times the device was restarted, the time elapsed since powering on, and a list of apps installed on the device, including the sideloaded ones."

All of this is without any consent. Or rather, without any consent beyond the "revealed preference" of just buying a phone from Google ("to opt out, don't have a face").

What's more, the Cybernews report probably undercounts the amount of passive surveillance the Pixel 9 undertakes. To monitor their testbench phone, Cybernews had to root it and install Magisk, a monitoring tool. In order to do that, they had to disable the AI features that Google touts as the centerpiece of Pixel 9. AI is, of course, notoriously data-hungry and privacy invasive, and all the above represents the data collection the Pixel 9 undertakes without any of its AI nonsense.

It just gets worse. The Pixel 9 also routinely connects to a "CloudDPC" server run by Google. Normally, this is a server that an enterprise customer would connect its employees' devices to, allowing the company to push updates to employees' phones without any action on their part. But Google has designed the Pixel 9 so that privately owned phones do the same thing with Google, allowing for zero-click, no-notification software changes on devices that you own.

This is the kind of measure that works well, but fails badly. It assumes that the risk of Pixel owners failing to download a patch outweighs the risk of a Google insider pushing out a malicious update. Why would Google do that? Well, perhaps a rogue employee wants to spy on his ex-girlfriend:

https://www.wired.com/2010/09/google-spy/

Or maybe a Google executive wins an internal power struggle and decrees that Google's products should be made shittier so you need to take more steps to solve your problems, which generates more chances to serve ads:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

Or maybe Google capitulates to an authoritarian government who orders them to install a malicious update to facilitate a campaign of oppressive spying and control:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dragonfly_(search_engine)

Indeed, merely by installing a feature that can be abused this way, Google encourages bad actors to abuse it. It's a lot harder for a government or an asshole executive to demand a malicious downgrade of a Google product if users have to accept that downgrade before it takes effect. By removing that choice, Google has greased the skids for malicious downgrades, from both internal and external sources.

Google will insist that these anti-features – both the spying and the permissionless updating – are essential, that it's literally impossible to imagine building a phone that doesn't do these things. This is one of Big Tech's stupidest gambits. It's the same ruse that Zuck deploys when he says that it's impossible to chat with a friend or plan a potluck dinner without letting Facebook spy on you. It's Tim Cook's insistence that there's no way to have a safe, easy to use, secure computing environment without giving Apple a veto over what software you can run and who can fix your device – and that this veto must come with a 30% rake from every dollar you spend on your phone.

The thing is, we know it's possible to separate these things, because they used to be separate. Facebook used to sell itself as the privacy-forward alternative to Myspace, where they would never spy on you (not coincidentally, this is also the best period in Facebook's history, from a user perspective):

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3247362

And we know it's possible to make a Pixel that doesn't do all this nonsense because Google makes other Pixel phones that don't do all this nonsense, like the Pixel 8 that's in my pocket as I type these words.

This doesn't stop Big Tech from gaslighting* us and insisting that demanding a Pixel that doesn't phone home four times an hour is like demanding water that isn't wet.

*pronounced "jass-lighting"

Even before I read this report, I was thinking about what I would do when I broke my current phone (I'm a klutz and I travel a lot, so my gadgets break pretty frequently). Google's latest OS updates have already crammed a bunch of AI bullshit into my Pixel 8 (and Google puts the "invoke AI bullshit" button in the spot where the "do something useful" button used to be, meaning I accidentally pull up the AI bullshit screen several times/day).

Assuming no catastrophic phone disasters, I've got a little while before my next phone, but I reckon when it's time to upgrade, I'll be switching to a phone from the @calyxinstitute@mastodon.social. Calyx is an incredible, privacy-focused nonprofit whose founder, Nicholas Merrill, was the first person to successfully resist one of the Patriot Act's "sneek-and-peek" warrants, spending 11 years defending his users' privacy from secret – and, ultimately, unconstitutional – surveillance:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2013/03/depth-judge-illstons-remarkable-order-striking-down-nsl-statute

Merrill and Calyx have tapped into various obscure corners of US wireless spectrum licenses that require major carriers to give ultra-cheap access to nonprofits, allowing them to offer unlimited, surveillance-free, Net Neutrality respecting wireless data packages:

https://memex.craphound.com/2016/09/22/i-have-found-a-secret-tunnel-that-runs-underneath-the-phone-companies-and-emerges-in-paradise/

I've been a very happy Calyx user in years gone by, but ultimately, I slipped into the default of using stock Pixel handsets with Google's Fi service.

But even as I've grown increasingly uncomfortable with the direction of Google's Android and Pixel programs, I've grown increasingly impressed with Calyx's offerings. The company has graduated from selling mobile hotspots with unlimited data SIMs to selling jailbroken, de-Googled Pixel phones that have all the hardware reliability of a Pixel, coupled with an alternative app suite and your choice of a Calyx SIM and/or a Calyx hotspot:

https://calyxinstitute.org/

Every time I see what Calyx is up to, I think, dammit, it's really time to de-Google my phone. With the Pixel 9 descending to new depths of enshittification, that decision just got a lot easier. When my current phone croaks, I'll be talking to Calyx.

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/08/water-thats-not-wet/#pixelated

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[ipseitydelrey]

idk if you do headcanons but I wanna know what you think each member of the BAU team would get you for your birthday?

<33

hi !! yes i def do general headcanons too, and this is such a good idea 🫶

birthday bash ☆ the B.A.U.

characters aaron hotchner, spencer reid, emily prentiss, derek morgan, jennifer jareau, david rossi, penelope garcia, tara lewis, luke alvez, elle greenaway; can be seen as platonic or romantic with any character

content just some general headcanons

aaron hotchner is incredibly observant and he cares for his team, so he will make sure you get at least a basket-full worth of stuff. he’ll likely say it’s from everyone on the team, even if he did pay for everything in the basket himself. he also goes out of his way to get presents for people he cares about (à la the halloween special where he got that darth vader mask for jack). included in the basket are some office supplies, flowers (of course), candies, and maybe a replacement of something you broke (like your favourite mug).

spencer reid will make sure to get you something that is functional from both an aesthetic standpoint and a practical one. of course, he’ll likely get you rare books with the pages yellow and worn from use, but are still delightfully charming, even if you’re not that interested in the contents of those pages. he’ll also treat you to a sort of last-minute-birthday-breakfast if you’re all called in to work, where he’ll get you your favourite pastry and coffee/tea, just the way you like it. antiquities are also a go to, whether it’s jewellery or otherwise.

emily prentiss is an enigma when it comes to gift giving; nobody knows what she’s getting for you, and nobody knows if it’s going to be a joke present or a genuinely thoughtful one (or some combination of the two). one present she might get for you are aphrodisiac chocolates because “you’ll never know if you get lucky” (her words).

derek morgan likely wouldn’t get you a genuinely thoughtful gift at first if you were relatively new to the team. but after some time on cases and at the office and such, he will put effort into his gifts. so for your first birthday with the team, he might play it safe by getting you gift cards; but after getting to know you more, he’ll get you something that is geared to your tastes, but it will be a gift that will remind you of him. although, he is just as likely as emily to get you a joke present, if not more.

jennifer jareau’s presents are quite rushed on account of her having to balance being an agent and a mom, but she does put a lot of heart into them. she knows more than anyone how taxing the job can get at times, so expect some well-deserved spa day coupons that she managed to find strewn around her place. it’s possible she’ll get you a couple instead of one. she will also likely give you a couple drawings henry and michael made, and you can bet that you’ll hang that up on your fridge at home.

david rossi in the early seasons (especially season three) would very likely not even plan on getting you a present unless he was reminded by hotch. however, in the later seasons, rossi definitely acts like the wine aunt who gives you straight up cash as a present. expect anywhere from $100 – $1k+, he has to use up the money he got from being a best-selling author somehow. also alcohol; he will get you expensive bottles of whiskey, scotch or wine, no room for argument (unless you have a legitimate reason).

penelope garcia goes all out for your birthday; obviously she puts the most effort in her gifts and more. for her presents, she will buy quite a lot, to the point where she might spend maybe half her pay check on the presents. her gifts mostly consist of decorations mostly for aesthetic purposes, but has little to do with everyday use. possible presents coming from her include paintings, pillows, fidget toys and mugs, all of which are very colourful. but she doesn’t just stop there with presents; she will likely organize a group dinner (or maybe a group breakfast, just in case of a possible case).

tara lewis is simultaneously the least expected and most expected member of the team to be a chaotic gift giver. she will also likely get you a joke present but while emily would get you something along the lines of a prank present, tara’s presents would be subtle and remind you of inside jokes either within the team or just between the two of you. also, expect alcohol, quite a number of the team will get you a bottle, including tara.

luke alvez definitely tries the hardest with his gifts (after penelope, of course), especially if he’s newer on the team. he’ll ask around for any ideas, either on what to get you or what kind of person you are with the team so he can figure it out for himself. if you have a dog (or two…or five), he will spoil the dog rotten with new toys, biscuits or dog accessories — which he probably collaborated with penelope on.

elle greenaway’s presents are ones that you shouldn’t really open with most of the team present because of their explicit nature. she’ll probably get you incredibly revealing swimwear (yet another collaboration with penelope), and also alcohol — specifically hard liquor. those are likely to be the only presents that you can actually open in front of everybody on the team without getting a lot of stares.

taglist @queermaxwooo @pleasantwitchgarden @hbwrelic @kissesforapence @theoraekenslover join the taglist!

[impish-baby]

It is so nice to find a blog for platonic yandere relationships! Your work is gourmet!

Have you ever thought about an alien researcher, one who was assigned to document the human race? They find that adults and children act very separately, but you seem to be an adult, but your behavior says otherwise. They decide to abduct you, for "research".

(Secretly they've become obsessed, they are fascinated by you and want to keep you as their own.)

Very silly, I know! Be sure to drink your water today! - 🐀

Ahhh I love this idea so much!!! >w< (Thank you!! I'll try to drink some, you do as well!)

'Why are you so strange for your kind? What makes you different?' Legitimate questions going through their mind as they observe you eagerly browsing the toy section of a store. You're... quite childlike, although alien is sure you're in adulthood for humans. It's a bit cute they have to admit, watching you hug a plushie to your just chest with the brightest smile on your face. Hmm...

They follow you home. They're a scientist after all! Their job is to investigate and that's exactly what they shall do, it's purely for research purposes.

Watching you regress is fascinating... they don't think it's a species wide behavior, but maybe something certain individuals do. For what reason though? They simply have to take you up to their ship to get to the bottom of it! (It's not like they want to take care of you, definitely not!)

They feel so bad when you're scared and crying- they didn't mean to make you frightened! Horrible at soothing you because they don't even engage with young of their own species often let alone a human that acts like a child at times- please stop!

Once you've settled down (exhausted yourself) they're picking you up and awkwardly rubbing your back. It's ok, they just need to borrow you for a bit and then you'll be returned home! It's like an um.. adventure! And they'll be so thankful for you helping them, you want to be a good kid, right?

(Alien spinning some sob story about desperately needing something to report.. pulling on your heartstrings and only feeling a little guilty for manipulating you, it wasn't a complete lie!)

When you're finally asleep they're looking up any resource on human young they can find- searching through articles and even parenting books. Determined to be good at looking after you even if they fumble and make mistakes. (Alien calling back to base to ask for advice.. why are they asking? No reason. They're just curious, commander..)

Bringing you toys from their home planet that you can play with as a "test" but really they just think it's adorable! Trying to quiet the pur in their chest as they observe you, tablet out for note-taking, which is actually them taking photos of you to look at later..

[itsabouttimex2]

Hahahah! The little healer stall sign says

itty-bitty-healing-comittee!

Here to heal you today!

Little Healer Headcanons

Sun Wukong, MK, and Mei

(That is so damn cute to think about- lil’ Y/N all dressed up like a mage/nurse behind their stall, but only their eyes peek over the rim cause they’re short af)

The Great Sage personally “finances” your little (probably unlicensed and illegal) stand by scaring off any cop or Karen who wanders by to try and cause trouble. He’s your number-one supporter at any given time, always on standby with a snack or hug to cheer you up.

It’s not uncommon for a client to lean over the side of your stall for a better look at what’s inside, just to find Ol’ Sun Wukong lounging on the ground.

When the king isn’t busy scaring people away by “accidentally” getting into their faces and pushing them around with a strength beyond their comprehension, he’s babying you.

Trying to, at least.

You work so very hard at your little repurposed stall, a handmade banner strung across the top, red crosses and flowers painted on the sides. It’s clear to Wukong that all you really want to do is help as many people as you can, however you can…

“But you can’t do that if you don’t take care of yourself,” he’ll remind, using legitimately good advice as an excuse to drag you off for mid-day snuggles.

The Great Sage will gently force you to practice basic self-care, even if it means dragging you back to Flower Fruit Mountain on his cloud for a hot bath and a cozy nap. Expect him to extend your “vacation” afterwards by asking for help with a few of his monkeys.

He is so, so good to you, in the worst way. A part of him knows that it’s wrong to load you with junk food and soda, but when he sees you all worn out and shaky on that wooden stool you have to stand on to see over the stall, his self-control fizzes out and the Great Sage is bolting off to “buy” you a horribly unhealthy combo meal from the nearest fast food place. (He steals it.)

And when you’re all tuckered out from a day of hard work and a belly full of sugar and grease and deep-fried fat…

Sun Wukong scoops you into his arms and starts the journey home, right back to where you belong.

Oh, how this kid loves you. MK is always lounging around the corner of your wooden street stall whenever he gets the chance, kicking back with a copy of some Monkey King sponsored magazine or playing Monkey Mech on his phone- it’s a great chance to just lounge around and genuinely relax.

And sure, there’s some concern from his friends and family about how MK seems to suddenly be prioritizing protecting a blatantly illegal street stall over his job and work as a hero…

“Saving the city can wait! Y/N needs me to find a rare herb so they can make an antidote!”

Yeah, you definitely come very close to first in this hero’s heart. He doesn’t outright abandon the city, nor will he put you miles above his desire to protect it- but you are extremely close to being the most important thing in his world.

Just… a cute itty-bitty “sibling” that MK can’t help but to cherish. At first.

As the seasons go by, though… you start being a strange sort of living coping mechanism. An emotional crutch. As his anguish compounds and stacks higher by the day, MK starts using you as an impromptu and unlicensed therapist, trauma-dumping whenever you aren’t tending to a customer.

Being too young and naive to shut down these conversations, you can do little more than fidget and squirm while you try to soothe the worst of MK’s sorrows.

And he misinterprets these awkward consolations as genuine care on your part, which leads him to repeat the process again and again and again.

As MK slowly builds himself up, he in turn breaks you down- entirely on accident.

If he knew that the constant barrage of fears and worries were grinding you down, MK would absolutely turn the valve and shut himself off. He’d go right back to closing himself off and shutting up about everything that’s torn a hole in his heart.

But he doesn’t. You don’t know how to tell him.

So on and on he goes with these traumas, head in your lap during a slow day, right when you finally crack and start to cry.

Good thing you’ve got a hero on standby to cuddle your tears away.

Each and every day starts with Mei prepping you for a long day at your “job”, and damn if the dragon girl can’t dote.

Special attention is given to your hair, little jeweled pins clipped into place just to give your outfit a bit of (expensive) sparkle- the motorcyclist believes with all her heart that you’ve earned it.

All your clothes are custom-made in whites and greens so that the two of you match, displaying to everyone around the bond she shares with you. Since your hands are so important to the work you do, Mei avoids giving you rings (and loose necklaces, just in case they get caught) and instead settles for thick golden bracelets (with trackers hidden inside) as a “gift”.

She tends to see you as more frail than you really are, so motorcycle rides are uncommon and uncharacteristically slow because Mei doesn’t want to rattle you.

Expect her to loudly and proudly proclaim “This is my little sibling!” whenever she gets the chance- and Mei will actively try to make this heartfelt delusion of hers a reality.

If you’re got a good home life, Mei imposes herself as an “honorary big sister” to justify all the time spent with you, painting herself as the sort of person who genuinely just wants the best for her community by looking out for everyone’s favorite healer.

But the moment she finds something solid against your guardians, this dragon girl blasts it all across social media to justify dragging you away from them- even if puts you in an awful and precarious headspace.

If you’re an orphan or stuck in a very bad home situation, Mei might just get her parents to adopt you- having a hardworking and adorable mage is not only good for the family’s reputation, but offers them a chance to expand their reach by having you lend a hand to influential and powerful individuals in their time of need.

And sometimes it feels almost like you’re being used, but they bring you back home after the work is done and allow you to rest and recuperate in front of their fireplace with a warm blanket (her mother wraps you up extra tight and kisses your forehead) and a cup of tea (her father pushes it into your hands and smoothes out your hair) before they dim the lights and bolt their lavish doors.

Really, you’re just part of the family now.

[casuallyanidiot]

what do you think of yandere priest but in more of a cult vibe?

Like a mother and young adult reader came to the neighborhood and the mother joined the "church" and became crazy religious

Okay, here me out, yandere priest to a cult that's not really a cult, but some multi level marketing scheme.

Tw. for age gap, financial abuse, and religious themes

He's less motivated by faith than he is his own greed. He loves living in luxury scoffs at the notion that he should be more humble. He worms his way into a quaint, suburban neighborhood slowly but surely over several years and drips in bits and pieces of information about a company that's just guaranteed to make you money.

You get to work from home! Be your own boss! And the products themselves work miracles!

Yandere Priest who is calm, charismatic, suave, and oh so charming. Most of the flock he tends to don't even realize he's scamming them out of their life's savings. They're all just far too dumb to even think of him in a negative light.

You and your mom moved to the neighborhood after finally managing to improve your financial situation. You were enrolled in a local community college and had several low paying jobs along with your mother, and the two of you lived frugally until you could afford enough to live in a nicer part of town than the one you had been stuck in your entire life.

The two of you are welcomed warmly by the church, the community, and yandere priest. Your mom is happy to have found such a nice place to live, and she's instantly enticed by the promises of making money through joining the congregation. She gets a bit of success through it at first, and soon she's hooked.

You however, don't buy it one bit.

Yandere priest is intrigued by you. While your mother begins to zealously preach the word of the bible and the word of his money, you seem to have an inherent distrust for him. It makes sense, he thinks. He essentially just views your little family as another wallet in his collection. Still, as much as he understands you, a poor little lamb who wasn't joined his flock yet, he can't let you roam free lest you lead others astray.

It's then he really starts to lay the charm on thick. You remain unconvinced despite the fact that he begins to visit your home often (It's an honor by the way. Your mother knows her place. She graciously welcomes him in and shouts at you when you don't show him respect.), and he catches you scowling at him when you think no one is looking.

You're just so frustrating to him. At first you were like a little challenge to beat, something that he had to work to get for once, but you're proving to be a true pain in the neck. You cats doubt on his name to anyone who'll listen, argue with your mom and try to get her to quit his church often, and he's even caught you trying to snoop around in some financial documents of others around the neighborhood. He begins to think of you as less of a lamb and more of a vixen.

It doesn't help that you're pretty and cute. You're a young faced, rebellious spit fire who calls him out like no one has before, and even though he grits his teeth every time you glare at him, he can't help but love it.

For the first time in a life, he actually has someone he would even deign to call an equal.

Just like with all the money he's sucked out of these poor people, he didn't care that you're practically half his age, or that he could ruin your life with a few words. No, all he wanted was for you to finally just give up, to just set aside your pride and let him win.

All the while, your mother has been changing. She was once a sweet if not ditzy woman who would do anything to protect her child, though now she was wrapped up in the same greed that had been running through this neighborhood since he sunk his teeth in it. Your finances had been depleted despite the fact that she insisted that the church's company was legitimate and making good money. While the two of you had been close, she would yell at you for anything that went out of line from what the church and Yandere priest preached.

You were losing your mother, your community, your hope. If this habit of her spending all of your money on the church continued, soon you were worried that you wouldn't be able to pay for the house or your tuition. You were desperate to get your life back in order, and who but him would be there with a single, honeyed option left for you?

Yandere priest was certain that if he bled you dry just a little longer, you'd eventually accept his oh so gracious offer and finally fall into his hands.

[hispg]

Fantasize

Pairings: R2! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: Your new neighbor Leon knows that you're married, but he can't help it but fantasize about you.

Wc: 3.9k

Warnings: smut,unprotected sex,p in v, fingering, dirty thoughts, cheating ( don't be like them), soft dom! Leon, pet names.

An:Sorry for the delay in posting, university has been taking up all my time and I'm also having some personal problems. Anyway, thanks for the 200 followers! And for all the messages I've been receiving, sorry for not answering them all. But please know that I read each one and smile like a fool, thank you for your love <3. I'm preparing a fanfic with Fuckboy! Leon, maybe it'll take a while, but I promise it'll be worth it!

Leon knew you were a married woman, he always knew, ever since he saw the shiny ring on your ring finger. A more than clear sign of your marriage.

Not that it bothered him at first, after all, he had just moved into the same condominium as you. He thought he'd just be another neighbor, but then he was wrong.

But then he started to get close to you, doing simple things like helping you carry the groceries you bought. Even holding the elevator open so you could get in.

Small talk here and there, nothing too personal or anything. Just two people getting to know each other. And by some chance of fate, he ended up finding you an interesting person, the more he talked to you, the more mesmerized he became.

Was it wrong? Of course it was, but he couldn't help fantasizing about you, it was stronger than him.

And frankly nothing improved when he found out that your husband didn't spend much time at home, if you saw him more than twice a month it was pure luck.

You were such a sweet and gentle person, he couldn't understand how your husband didn't mind spending so much time at home. You were alone most of the time, and that legitimately bothered him.

At some point he asked for your number, so he could talk to you often. And indeed he did, he spoke to you almost every day, even if it was just a simple message, but he was interested to know how you were doing.

After a while he found himself thinking about you more than he should, whether at work or when he was alone at home. He didn't know why, but you gradually occupied all his thoughts. Seven days a week, all the time he imagined you, with him.

He knew it was morally wrong, since you were a married woman. Besides, he was only a cop, what could he offer you? Your husband could certainly give you anything you asked for. Just about everything.

Maybe one thing less.

The walls were thin, you could easily hear what was going on from the other side. The adjoining walls of his bedroom gave him the opportunity to hear what was going on on the other side. Which was exactly your bedroom.

It was impossible not to notice the little noises you made, the low squeaks and moans that you swore no one else could hear.

But Leon heard perfectly.

He had keen instincts, perhaps because he was a police officer and needed things to be like that. However, he didn't understand what caused these noises, the moans, the heavy breathing, the gasps that he heard so clearly.

Until one day he realized, it was you touching yourself.

Letting out soft cries, playing with your needy pussy. He could already imagine you arching your body on the bed, clutching the sheets and moaning with every touch.

Incredibly exciting, he thought. Yet he couldn't help imagining the fact that you had no one to do it for you. No one to fill your cunt, to not let you do this job on your own.

And then he realized, your husband could give you everything except one thing. Pleasure.

And that Leon could give you, without a shadow of a doubt.

Every time he heard you doing these things, his mind went wild. Fuck, he could feel his cock getting hard just from that, thinking it could be him.

Imagining you arching and bending your body towards him, while he was buried between your legs. Or rather, how well you could fit him, the gigantic desire he had to fuck you dumb, make you addicted to his cock.

He often tried not to think about it, it was morally wrong, of course. He tried to maintain good behavior, composure, but it was impossible to do that when you were so close to him.

It was even worse when you called him to your house, just to chat and eat the delicious cookies you baked. He didn't know if it was on purpose, but you always wore short clothes to these small gatherings, shorts so short and tight that he could clearly see the curve of your ass. Plus the graceful fact that you didn't wear a bra when you were at home, giving him the opportunity to see your breasts swaying slightly as you walked.

Maybe that's why he would ask for more coffee or cookies, just to see your figure walking around the kitchen, providing the perfect image for his unbridled imagination.

In his mind, his life would only be perfect if he had you by his side, in a routine where he could fuck you every day of the week. Every single day.

At this point, he's lost count of how many times he's jerked off to you, how many times he's dreamt that it was your hand doing the work, not his.

From time to time he even thought about how wrong it was, but by then it was too late, his cum was oozing out all over him, making him let out a slight grunt of pleasure. Spilling it all over his sheets, making a mess.

The next day he would greet you as if nothing had happened, with the biggest innocent smile on his face.

But all his self-control went down the drain once he saw you wearing a tight red nightgown, it was made of silk and fitted your body perfectly.

He couldn't stop staring for a second, and he could already feel something hardening in his body.

"Thank you, sweetheart." You say with a soft smile, looking at him.

The reason he was at your house right now was that he was helping you put a heavy package inside, and maybe he was going to put more than the package inside.

"Nothing at all. Want some help unpacking?" He replied, wiping his uniform a little.

And you didn't know why, but something sparked in you every time you saw him in his uniform. He looked so handsome like that.

"Yes, please." You nod. It was obvious that you didn't need his help for such a simple thing, but if it meant he'd stay longer, then you'd let it be.

All you got from him was a smile, and he started looking in the box for a place to open it, and you went to find a pair of scissors.

Once you returned he was kneeling on the floor, slowly opening the box with his hands. As soon as he looked up, he saw too much, his gaze went straight to your thighs, exactly to the middle of your legs.

At the same moment he blushed, trying to look away. But before either of you could say a word, the lights flickered and went out for good. A sudden blackout.

Leon was the first to react, he stood up abruptly and bumped into you, holding you by the waist to prevent you from falling.

On impulse, you grabbed his shoulders, just to keep your balance. It was only at that moment that you realized how close your face was to his, the way his eyes stared at you intensely, as if for the last time.

Not only that, but you felt a certain bulge in your stomach, and it didn't take more than two seconds for you to understand what it was all about.

Just a brief glimpse of your thighs was enough for him to get hard, and even more so holding you so close.

"I'm sorry..." He whispers awkwardly, still holding you in his arms.

You don't know if it was your instinct, or if it was your body aching for any kind of touch, but before you could imagine it you pushed your lips to his, kissing him with a force you didn't even know you had.

He obviously hesitated, the weight of the act bearing down on his back in an abrupt way. It was so wrong, a part of him just wanted to push you away and say no, but by then he wasn't thinking straight, his body went into overdrive.

It wasn't long before he was moving his lips against yours in pure synchronicity, his fingers curving around your waist, effectively sticking the two of you together. At that moment it was as if nothing else mattered, perhaps it was the lust affecting your thoughts, the bottled-up desire to touch each other.

Too much to describe, and it could only be demonstrated through this physical contact, the way his tongue slid into your mouth, exploring every inch. Taking the time to savor the moment, because he genuinely didn't know if this would be the first and last time.

His hands reached down to lift your nightgown, cupping your ass and pushing you against him even more. His thoughts were racing, but he couldn't stop. Just feeling sorry for your poor husband. Not that would stop him from doing anything.

You were almost in the same situation, except that your mind was foggy, you were already feeling hot and bothered by a simple kiss. A kiss like the one your husband had never been able to give you, and perhaps could never make you feel so aroused by a simple act.

God, if it was so wrong, why did it have to be so good?

Even though you tried to open your mouth to speak at some point, Leon wouldn't let you, he always pressed his lips against yours harder, forcing you to keep quiet. And before he did anything else, he lifted you up by your ass, carrying you across the couch. He was only guided by his senses, since he was more than used to being in your house.

"Shit, we shouldn't have-" you protest, and he shuts you up with another kiss, laying you down on the couch and getting on top of you, holding your wrists above your head, preventing you from moving or anything.

Soon you felt his full weight on top of you, as his warm breath hit your cheek, while he nibbled lightly, "It's too late to say no."

Yes, he was right.

Now was not the time for remorse or saying no, because let's face it, it's not like you were going to say no.

And hell, you knew so well that you should say no, but he wasn't helping either. Whispering sweet nothings in your ear, kissing and nibbling your neck, making you gasp and squirm under him.

You nestled your hands in his hair, pulling him in for another thirsty kiss. You simply acted like someone who hadn't been touched in months, every little brush against you was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch, remembering what it felt like to have your skin against his, a sensation he wouldn't forget even if he wanted to. All Leon could feel now was pity, pity for your poor husband.

Why was that? Because Leon was sure that he would make you feel like never before, a sensation that your husband could not possibly give you.

"You've been waiting for this, haven't you?" he whispers, looking at you with a little smile.

All you did was nod, your flushed and embarrassed face already saying a lot. At the same time as you felt a lust burning throughout your body, there was a guilt that consumed you in an overwhelming way.

If it was so wrong, why did this shit have to be so good?

Your mind was blurred and confused, as if all you could focus on were his touches, the way he was playing with the waistband of your panties, threatening to pull them down at any moment. The way his blue eyes penetrated you, as if he wanted to memorize every detail.

As soon as his lips touched your neck, you felt your body twitch, and a small moan escaped your lips. Each act made your body burn, it had been so long since you'd been touched like this, something about him excited you too much. More than it should.

He took his time, leaving a trail of wet kisses on your neck, shoulders, down to your breasts. Where he made a point of slowly taking off your nightgown, revealing what he wanted, you didn't wear a bra at home, so this was just another advantage for him. As soon as he flicked his tongue out to make contact with your skin, he stopped. Something was bothering him.

His gaze was on your hands, specifically on your ring finger, looking at your wedding ring. Then he took your hand, slowly removing the ring.

"Today you'll be mine, you don't have to wear this." His voice was low and husky, and he didn't care about your ring at all, he just took it off and threw it somewhere in the room.

It would take you some time to find it again.

"Leon I-" He shushed you, pressing two fingers to your lips, forcing you to open wide. Soon you had two fingers in your mouth, and he moved them back and forth, making sure you sucked it all in.

"No talking for today, baby." The velvety voice once again drew a sly whimper from you, making you hold him tight.

His deft fingers moved down to your wet slit, rubbing your entrance in circles, his fingertips doing a marvelous job on you.

"You're touch depraved, aren't you?" Leon asks, a mischievous smile appearing on his lips.

You were so wet, just from simple touches, it wasn't hard to guess that you were the type to get turned on by silly things.

Another whimper escapes your lips, your nails digging into his forearm, and from the smile he gave you, he was certainly enjoying the situation.

The way he knew exactly where to touch, how to touch. It was simply enough to drive you insane. You didn't even know how he did it, but he did.

His fingers found your clit, and as soon as they did, he started stroking it with his thumb, lightly, just to see every reaction you gave.

He would keep each one in his memory, it would be the most vivid memories he'd had in a while.

"So wet, just for me, isn't it?" A pure tease, just to drive you even crazier.

You nodded dumbly, he was all you needed at that moment. You'd never felt this way before, and you wondered how he could do it.

Without warning he slipped a finger into you, stretching your tight walls gently, curling his fingers and searching for your sensitive spots, and he wouldn't stop until he found them.

"You're so beautiful." He whispered huskily, removing his fingers from your mouth so that you could moan for him.

You couldn't do anything more than moan or mumble things here or there, so when he increased the speed and added another finger it was enough to make you see stars.

"There, there, it feels good when you touch there." In a whimper you say, as soon as you feel his fingers curving around your sweet spots.

All he did was bite his lip, seeing how pleased you were with him. He couldn't wait to fuck you, his mind was stuck on the idea.

He would be the man for you, and you would be his woman. He could easily fulfill the role your husband should be playing.

"Is that good?" He purrs in your ear, licking your earlobe.

You bite your lip and nod, another dirty moan coming from your lips. You could feel your orgasm approaching, the way he stroked your clit as he fucked you with his fingers was enough to make you go wild with him.

"Come for me." He purrs at you, and in one swift movement he finds your breast, wrapping his tongue around your sensitive nipple.

He sucked like crazy, making a point of doing so until he felt your nipple harden in his wet muscle.

Before you knew it, your hips were moving in sync with his movements, in perfect harmony.

God knows how he knew every sensitive spot of yours so well, maybe he'd been waiting for this more than you realized.

"Leon! Fuck-," you moan loudly, rolling your eyes and arching your body, feeling your orgasm wash over you intensely. In a way that has never happened before.

He gave you a lopsided grin and a contented murmur, extremely proud and smug at having made you cum like that.

"What a beautiful princess, you're perfect when you come." He whispered sensuously in your ear, kissing all over your face straight after.

You were speechless, your breathing heavy and fast, your mind even messier than before. At this point you didn't want to think about right or wrong, your mind was in a whirlwind of pleasure.

As soon as he saw you calm down from your high, he lifted you into his arms, carrying you like a princess. He couldn't stand it any longer, his cock hard and throbbing in his pants, he had to take you.

And of course he would do it in your bed, you would be his in your bed. As if you were husband and wife. He already knew the way to your bedroom, and gently laid you down on the bed, letting you sink into the soft mattress.

"My beautiful wife, you're going to welcome me like the perfect wife you are, aren't you?" A low purr in your ear, his fingers reaching down to undo his belt.

You nod, sitting down on the bed and helping him out of his uniform. As he took off his pants, you unbuttoned his shirt, kissing and licking all over his chest.

Low moans and gasps came from his lips, he reached for your hair and began to stroke you, encouraging you to continue. You were so perfect in his eyes, you needed to be his, if only for one night.

In the excitement of the moment, he pulled down his pants along with his boxers, letting his cock pop out, a mischievous smile on his lips, you would be his.

As he had so long hoped.

He holds you by the shoulders and pushes you onto the bed once more, letting you snuggle into the sheets.

As he watched you spread your legs, he mounted you, giving the perfect view of his shapely body. Every muscle twitching as he gripped the back of your thighs, spreading you even wider. He had the perfect view, you there all vulnerable for him, slit wet and clamoring for him.

And so he did, he pumped his cock and brushed your entrance, teasing you.

You whimpered, pushing your hips against the head of his cock, wanting him to do what he had to do right away.

A chuckle escapes his lips, and he pushes his cock all the way into you at once, making a quiet slapping sound.

"Fucking tight." He grunts in your ear, starting with calm, slow thrusts, giving you a slow, romantic kiss.

Savoring your taste as he passionately fucked you. Even if it wasn't true, for tonight you would be his woman. His alone, made for him, all his.

"Such a beautiful wife." He murmurs during the kiss, increasing the intensity of his thrusts, his skin colliding against yours.

"My beautiful husband." You say in a whimper, the words sliding out of your mouth as if it were the purest truth.

Perhaps you only spoke in the heat of the moment, or perhaps deep down you wanted it to be true.

He bites his lip, pushing your thighs further into the mattress, moving his hips at an incredibly fast speed, he couldn't hold back any longer, he needed it. Just like you.

"I'm going to come inside you, and you're going to let me, aren't you?" He growls at you, squeezing your thighs tightly.

"Y-yes, yes please." You plead, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you arch your body towards him, your nails digging into the sheets.

"Good, fucking good girl." He whispers, pulling his cock out of you, only to shove it in once more.

You both moan loudly at the sensation, your velvety, tight walls embracing him, pulling him in. His cock throbbing and twitching inside you, he was close, and he couldn't wait to fill you with his big, full load.

He was focused on giving you the most pleasure he could give, just to make sure you didn't forget him, and if he was lucky you could call him one more time.

And he didn't mind being your lover at all, there was no denying that he was very fond of the idea.

At that point, your moans filled the room, surely the neighbors next door could hear what was going on if they listened closely.

Not that you cared much about it, the swearing and sweet talk that escaped his lips, too lost in the moment to think about anything else.

His cock slid in and out of you, making the impure sound of bodies colliding, and Leon was closer to the edge, he wasn't going to hold back any longer.

"Close, Ah-, close," you moaned loudly, writhing and arching your body impatiently. You felt your orgasm building, your body trembling with pleasure beneath him.

He kisses your cheeks softly, whispering to you, "Me too, princess. Let's cum together, yeah? Be good for me, together."

With a loud moan you confirm, he increases the pace and puts the weight of his body on you, moaning and grunting in your ear. The thrusts were strong and deep, he made a point of hitting all your spots and making you see stars every time.

"Fuck - I'm cumming," he growls, his nails digging into your thighs, leaving light marks.

That was the last straw for you to reach your limit, your walls spasming on his cock, his white cream spurting into you. He came so much, so much that he hadn't realized the last time he'd felt this good.

"Good, fucking good." He murmurs, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss, still moving slowly inside you.

His hands leave your thighs and find your hands, wrapping his fingers around yours.

"I want you, only you." He whispers against your mouth, kissing all over your face.

You bite your lip and stare at him, tempted to repeat the same sentence he's just said. Maybe it's selfish of you to want him all to yourself, when you couldn't do the same.

You couldn't promise to be his alone, and quite possibly you'd have to be husband and wife in secret. Not that it was a bad idea, even if it meant breaking a few hearts.

It wasn't long before he started kissing your neck, sucking lightly. He wanted to claim you again and again, for tonight you would be his alone. And he would make sure to mark you properly.

His fingers still wrapped around yours, as he whispered sweet nothings to you. You certainly wouldn't get out of that bed tonight, he wouldn't let you.

You would be two lovers in love, parting the next day. And looking forward to the next time. Regardless, the night would be memorable.

It would be a hell of a night.

[gilverrwrites]

Coming Out of Retirement

Reader/Bruce Wayne Ft. Almost all of the BatFam. (Sorry Alfred) Reader is an ex-con who has renounced their life of crime and settled down as a stay-at-home parent and trophy partner, until the itch to get back on the streets re-emerges. To celebrate this new found life of heroism, their BatFamily arranges a suprise.

3.1K Words CWs: Mainly fluff, but, non descript mentions of sex (implied dom Bruce), mild arguing, competition, self-doubt, public kissing. Limelight. A singular batarang may or may not get thrown. It might have been Daman.

Adorning your name with the suffix ‘-Wayne’ has done wonders for your image. Rarely were you billed as a criminal in the media, very few events failed to send you an invitation, people who would previously have shunned you in the streets now unsubtly eager to get into or stay in the billionaire families’ good graces. It did not, however, fully erase your criminal past. The extensive list of felonies that came with the rest of your name meant that few people were willing to take a chance on hiring you. When you’d told your husband, Bruce that after months of searching, your only legitimate job offers were loading crates at the docks or sweeping floors at a high school he’d baulked. Those were perfectly fine jobs, vital even, but not particularly fitting for the meticulously curated image the Waynes had carved out over centuries.

Instead, he’s found you a job at Wayne Enterprises, and by found, you mean made-up a job, something to do with analysis and CAPEX, fancy words for sitting behind a desk, a desk that made your skin crawl. Truth is, no job would have scratched the itch you were trying to scratch. A day job was simply the compromise you’d come to with your husband. What you’d really wanted was to get back out onto the streets, not to commit crimes, but to stop them. Bruce didn’t like the idea, citing that it would be emotionally challenging for you to fight against your former allies and friends. Additionally, civilians wouldn’t trust you. You’d argued that those issues would improve with practice and time. That your skills were wasted being a stay-at-home parent and trophy partner, and he knew it, he always knew when you were right, he just hated to admit it. So, you’d come to the mutual agreement that you would work a ‘normal job’, and if, after 6 months had passed, you were still aching to get back in the game, then and only then would he approve.

From there it became a bit of an unspoken game between you. He kept your body and mind as occupied as possible, hoping to keep you distracted. Nights off from patrolling were spent in bed with you, bending and stretching and everything else-ing your body to his will for as long as his near infinite stamina could manage. He’s named you as the primary point of contact for Damian’s school, which had you driving to and from the academy to deal with his many infractions on what felt like a daily basis. If that wasn’t inconvenient enough, it also put you behind on the ungodly amount of paperwork he had sent to your desk each morning.

That didn’t stop you. Instead, you found ways around it. Your early morning runs were really combat and target training with Jason. Your fortnightly visits with your eldest, Dick, really were check-in, as wells as a chance to practice patrolling on the streets of Blüdhaven. Even Babs had loaned you a few updated gadgets for your dusty old utility belt. Tim had given you back-door access to most of the files on the bat-computer, and you spent your lunch hour reading up on the who’s who of Gotham’s current criminal underground between rushed mouthfuls of protein-heavy salads and coffee. Some faces you knew, had been on a first-name basis with, others were complete strangers, indicators that you’d been out of the game too long.

It was funny when you thought about it, even in marriage you were still finding ways to thwart each-other.

Bruce knew all of this, of course, he wasn’t the world's greatest detective for nothing, but he kept it to himself. The same way you kept his tactics to obstruct your plans quiet.

Until today. A sleepy Sunday morning in which Jason had kept you training for twice as long as usual, before joining you for the walk home, chatting your ear off about the things he’d noticed in his latest re-read of Pride and Prejudice, right up until you’d made it inside where a note had been left for you on the fridge. The words ‘CAVE ASAP’ had been scrawled on it in Bruce's handwriting.

When you’d shown it to Jay he’s just shrugged and followed you to the entrance. You might have been concerned, had you not known that today was the six-month anniversary of your deal, the closing date. You were concerned, however, when you were met with 6 smiling faces awaiting you, 7 if you include Jason, 8 if you include Bruce's nonsmiling face.

“What is this?” You query. “Whose watching the city?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve enlisted a couple of friends to keep an eye on Gotham, they’ll signal us if anything comes up that they can’t handle.”

Something feels different, something other than the unusually large crowd. Your eyes scan the room until they land on a new instalment to the cave, four glass cases, holding four suits that seemed both completely new, but somehow familiar.

“That’s good, but you didn’t answer my first question.” You finally respond to Bruce, pointing to the pods to indicate that you now require further clarification.

“It’s been six months since we made our deal, and it has become abundantly clear that there is no derailing you from getting what you want.”

“Which is one of the many reasons you married me~” His straight face breaks at your jest.

“Is this how they always flirt?” “This is tame, you don’t want to see their real flirting.” “Shhhhh.” Muffled voices whisper amongst the cluster of children, and you’re admittedly impressed it took this long for any of them to say something.

“This is by no means a full sign-off.” Bruce continues, “There will be rigorous tests for you to pass before it becomes official- ”

“Don’t worry, it’s not personal.” Dick butts in, and you're grateful for the reassurance. You’d been concerned that your villainous past might make you subject to extra scrutiny, even if you’d clearly proven yourself reformed many times over. “We all had to go through the testing phase.”

“Yeah, some of us did better than others.” Tim's statement is clearly directed at Steph who responds with an unamused glare.

“Yes.” The budding conversation is stifled by Bruce for that singular word before everybody bursts out with a chorus of “WELCOME TO THE TEAM!”

From there you’re rallied into a seemingly never-ending parade of hugs, each accompanied by some form of “congratulations”; “Knew you’d win out.” “You got this!” “You thought he kept you busy before, good luck.”

It was Barbara who finally informed you what the suits were. “We wanted to surprise you with an updated suit, but none of us could agree on one design.”

“So, we split into teams and made our own.” Duke finished.

Your celebratory lap quickly descended into a clash from there. Each team trying to point out their own design, to get you to look at theirs first, to try them on. You knew each of them loved you in their own way, but you hadn’t quite got the knack of demanding respect in the same way Bruce had. He could silence their quarrelling with a well-timed look. You had to shout above them to be heard, but your voice reached their ears in waves of twos and threes, eventually, they all settled. Finding spots to sit or lean on as they watched and waited for your next move.

“How about I go through them each, one at a time, left to right?” A sea of heads nod back at you. “Great, whose is this first one?”

“Mine.” “Ours.”

Damian has a strong personality, self-assured, sharp. You love those parts of him, many don’t. Tim included. With time, they’d grown on each other, formed a brotherly bond, if anything due to the forced proximity, but their relationship was still strained at times. Damian hadn’t killed Tim, but that didn’t alleviate all of the tension between them, so it meant the world that they’d shelved their issues long enough to do something nice, even if the end result wasn’t exactly, your style. It was cool, no doubt about it, but it was certainly a ‘Robin’ suit. Primarily red, with a green cape, a lot of built-in gadgets you’d never seen before, and “Are these knuckle dusters?”

“Yes, made with steel, much like your old ones but these are coated in a gold alloy.” Damian informs you. It doesn’t go amiss that they seem to match the gold pieces from his own costume.

“We know you don’t really like capes, so it’s detachable,” Tim interjects, pointing at different pieces and areas of the gear, anyone could tell he was in his element, one of many. “The left glove has a built-in dispenser for pellets, and the right glove has a travel-size holographic computer that’s connected to the mainframe. Think of it like a smartphone but for comms and information only.”

“Yeah, Bruce doesn’t like it when we use it to watch TikTok.” Duke jokes, and is rewarded with a few cautious laughs.

“Wow!” You smile, fiddling with the edge of the forest green gloves in question. “This is all so advanced. I- ”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, blah blah blah!” Steph's voice cuts in before you can thank your Robins. You can tell she’s excited by the way she bounces on her toes, Barbara right behind her, both grinning, both ignoring Damian's stink eye. You can forgive them, you always do. “Us next!”

“The gadgets are all updated versions of the stuff I loaned you for Blüdhaven, I’ve been tracking the way you use them, and based on the feedback I’ve removed the features you didn’t use much and refocused the excess power on ramping up the stuff you do use.” Barbara tells you through the door as you change.

The girls had really hit the nail on the head in the style department, and you had to applaud yourself for that one really. The girls hadn’t just taken inspiration from your previous get-up, they’d seemingly taken the very blueprints and modernised it. The silhouette was identical, right down to the patched-up adjustable waist you’d had to add due to your fluctuating diet whilst in and out of Blackgate. Only now, everything was made from black reinforced leather with matte panelling. Pops of your signature colour reflected in the stitching as well as the gloves, utility belt, and a pair of shiny docs.

This is incredible, you refrain from saying, careful not to spark any more flames in what was clearly already a competition. “This is nearly identical to my old suits; how did you manage it?”

“Bruce had one of your old suits tucked away in the trophy room,” Steph informs you, shooting Bruce a smug look, in response he remains still, face completely unmoving. “He thought we wouldn’t find it, but we did.”

You don’t focus much on how or why he had it. It was likely ‘borrowed’ from a GCPD evidence locker, brought here so he could study it, help him better understand an adversary. But you did wonder why he’d kept it for so long. When you cast him a curious glance, he stares back at you, sporting the same poker-faced expression he’s given Steph.   

Your lips part, ready to ask but a voice interrupts, Damian; “It’s unoriginal.”

“Yeah.” Tim agrees. “And old fashioned.”

For a moment you’re offended, considering that it’s based on your own design.

“At least they didn’t make a Robin suit.” Jason jumps in, possibly to defend, probably to stir the pot.

“That’s enough.” You declare, holding your hands to garner attention. “They’re both great, in their own ways, now whose next?”

It’s obvious whose next, if the sequins didn’t give it away, their grinning faces did.

“We figured everyone else would have you covered on the tech and practicality side of things.” Duke explains as Dick retrieves their joined project from its pod and hands it to you.

“We wanted to make something that speaks to your soul.” Dick finishes. Their statement clearly rehearsed for maximum intrigue.

You don’t say the first response that comes to mind, but Tim does, near abouts. “And their soul is a reject from Abba’s wardrobe?”

“I said enough.” But he was right. They were all right, in a way, it wasn’t techy or practical, but it certainly appealed to something inside you. A desire to stand out? To dress like the superheroes of your childhood Saturday morning cartoons?

It was by far the smallest suit, with skin-tone tights to keep your arms and legs warm. A near plunging neckline, with a flared collar that was meant to be worn popped. Looking closer you could see that the sequins weren’t sequins at all, but little meal plates coated in some kind of iridescent polish, surely there was some form of pragmatic reason for it, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

“Maybe not for stopping a bank robbery.” You ponder aloud, swaying your body to see how well the shiny metallic layer reflected light, the dimness of the cave not offering much to work with. “But certainly, for a disco, do places still do discos?”

“No.” Four voices reply in deadpan unity.

“Don’t even humour them.” Jason is having none of it, the look on his face reads that he can’t believe you even tried it on. “I was supposed to be on their team, but I refuse to put my name on that monstrosity.”

“Hey.” Duke and Dick respond in unison, furrowed brows and inadvertently pouty lips don’t suit their faces.

“I supposed that explains the last one.” You redirect before another argument can break out. The final suit, Jay's suit, isn’t really a suit at all. More a mishmash of things seemingly cobbled together from the nearest army surplus store. Big military-grade boots that feel clunky on your feet, a black spandex turtleneck, a thermal-lined leather jacket with stray threads that clearly had previously secured a multitude of now-missing embroidered patches, and camo trousers that had been dyed to match your colours.

“How you have the audacity to claim our suit is a Robin suit, when yours is clearly devised from your own wardrobe astounds me, Todd.” Damian comments coldly, deploying his patented glare.

“It only looks like that because it’s cool, and I only wear cool stuff.” Jason fires back.

“It’s not cool, it looks like something an edgy teenager thinks is cool.”

“At least mine has- ” “Yours isn’t even- ” “This isn’t the 80s!”

A slew of arguments and insults are thrown back and forth, voices talking over each other. The distinct sound of a batarang being launched rings throughout the cave until Barbara silences everyone with the loud clapping of her hands and the declaration that; “We have to let them decide.”

Seven pairs of eyes fall on you, all awaiting vindication, and more importantly: bragging rights. It was an impossible situation; you’d known that from the beginning. There was no conceivable way you could pick one without hurting feelings, or more likely, causing a war. It would be akin to picking a favourite child. Fortunately, you’re saved by The Bat.

“Actually,” Bruce’s deep voice intervenes, cutting through the charged silence, finally speaking up for the first time since your unconventional fashion show had begun. He presses a button on the console beside you and another case ascends from the floor, revealing a 5th suit. “There's one more.”

His smile is smug, the same that often graces your son's faces, particularly Damian's. A smile that says he’s already won. That or he’s simply enjoying seeing his family engage in some healthy, almost non-combative competition. Either way, it evokes a communal groan from the children.

It seems Bruce had had a similar idea to Babs and Steph. The suit resembled your old one, with some noticeable differences. It was all shades of matte black, from head to toe, excluding a very subtle, scattered layer of glitter embedded in the thermal lined fabric. Glitter of your signature colour, you could tell it had been included to appeal to you, but also to have minimal effect on your being able to blend into the dark.

It also included an embellishment of lightweight armour, gloves that seemed to be a direct knockoff from Tims, and a utility belt. But the thing that stood out most, the thing all the others lacked, was a single, shiny symbol adorning its chest piece. Your symbol. So taken with it, you can’t help but run your fingertips across the cool metal, accidentally dislodging it.

“Oh sh- sugar.” You correct yourself, careful not to swear in front of impressionable, or teasing ears. “I broke it already!”

Your husband chuckles, low but soft as he fastens it back into place. “I haven’t finalised that piece yet. I thought maybe you’d want to change your alias, something not associated with your past.”

“Oh.” The insignia suddenly feels much heavier. No matter how much you, Bruce, or anybody else had reassured you during your relationship, you’d always suspected, just a little bit that Bruce might resent your former life, might be ashamed of it, and the confirmation hit you like a ton of bricks. As tempting as it is to agree to the proposition, to make him happy you can’t. “Bruce, my past is a part of who I am. I can’t change that.”

“I know. I thought better of it later, that’s why I had it made.” He places his hand over the top of yours, pressing you both against the metal symbol. “I knew you’d rather reclaim this one.”

A smile spreads across your face then, and he mirrors it with his own. You can’t help it, the relief of having his approval, the warmth of his acceptance, he always gets you, eventually. You also can’t help leaning in for a kiss, one which he happily welcomes, cupping your hips and pulling you closer as your lips press together. The embrass is short-lived, the moment sullied by the distress of your children.

“EW!”

“Gross.”

“I’m outta here.” “I’ll join you.”

“Appalling sight parents.”

“Guess Bruce won then.” “Lame, ours was better.”

When the cave is cleared out, you waste no time pulling Bruce back in to finish your kiss, attacking him with multiple smatterings across his jaw, cheeks, and lips. He laughs, weak to your ambush, greedily enjoying every second of it until you pull away.

“I should go find them, say thank you. This was all very thoughtful.” Nothing would go to waste; you were already planning how you might integrate pieces of each suit into one. One that would reflect who you were, adorned with pieces of the people who had supported you through it, whether intentionally or not.

You can tell Bruce wants to keep you here, but he nods, reluctantly agreeing until the screen behind him flashes red, an alarm begins beeping incessantly. “You’ll have to thank them later.”

Time to put your new suit into action.