#she just said you do you and i do me without much of an explanation she's missing like half of the plot she was shoved away from

[doctahchang]

would like to know the lore of my own oc that i have had for like ten years

edit: found an old sketch of her... i basically drew her for the first time eons ago and haven't changed her design ever since (sad that i won't be able to find those drawing again)

[my-wildflwr]

i have a severe one-sided beef with this very very very big popular taylor blog on here

[rescuefield-a]

thinking about how it took claire one firm "no" to go "well okay fuck you then" gjhj

[rizzanon]

02 | A QUITTER?

m.list | prev | next

The words hung in the air, heavy and absolute.

Bruce’s brows furrowed, his usually calm expression giving way to faint confusion. “You’re… quitting?”

“Yes.”

For a moment, silence filled the cavernous Batcave, save for the faint hum of the Batcomputer. He studied you, his piercing blue eyes narrowing slightly as though trying to read your mind. “Why?” he asked finally, his voice measured, almost clinical.

You froze, caught off guard. Why? Why had you suddenly decided to quit? Sixteen-year-old you wouldn’t have even entertained the idea. This life was everything she had worked for—every patrol, every bruise, every sleepless night fueled by a desperate need for validation. Why had the words come so easily to you now?

Your mind reeled, racing to string together an explanation that made sense. After a long pause, you took a deep breath and met his gaze. “Because… you were right,” you said finally, your voice quieter than you intended. “This life… it was never meant for me. I was just too dumb to realize it before. But now, I do.”

The admission felt strange, almost foreign. Sixteen-year-old you wouldn’t have said that—not to him, not to anyone. And yet, as the words left your mouth, they felt right.

Bruce didn’t respond immediately. He just watched you, his gaze intense, cold, and calculating. You could almost feel him inspecting every inch of you, every nuance in your expression, searching for cracks in your resolve or signs of insincerity. The weight of his scrutiny was almost unbearable, and you found yourself holding your breath.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he leaned back slightly and nodded. “If that’s what you’ve decided,” he said simply, his tone unreadable. Without another word, he turned back to the Batcomputer, his eyes scanning the reports as if the conversation had never happened.

You blinked, stunned. That easy? He really just let you go like that?

For a moment, a flicker of relief passed through you, but it was quickly overshadowed by another thought: Just how much did he not want you to take up the Batgirl mantle? The thought gnawed at you, but you shoved it down, forcing yourself to nod.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked back toward the staircase, your footsteps echoing in the vast space.

As you ascended, you couldn’t help but glance back once, but Bruce didn’t move, his attention fixed on the screen. You pressed your lips together and forced yourself to keep going.

Bruce heard your footsteps fading up the stairs, each one echoing through the cavern like a countdown. He stared at the Batcomputer, his hands resting motionless on the console. But his eyes weren’t scanning the reports anymore.

He couldn’t stop himself from glancing over his shoulder as the clock door slid shut behind you. His expression hardened, his brows furrowing deeply.

Something about this felt… wrong. Letting you walk away like that—it felt final, like a line had been drawn in the sand. A line he couldn’t cross.

You’d said you were quitting because the life wasn’t meant for you. Bruce should be relieved that you were no longer putting yourself on the line, no longer risking your life for the sake of crime-fighting.

But now, it was as if he was watching you slip through his fingers, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Should he have said something? Say what exactly? That you shouldn’t quit being Batgirl? That he wanted you in his this life?

Bruce clenched his jaw and forced himself to look back at the screen, willing the unease in his chest to go away. He told himself it was for the best. He already long knew that this path was never meant for you.

And yet…

A faint, nagging voice whispered at the back of his mind, telling him he’d made a mistake. That letting you go like this wasn’t just about the Batgirl mantle—it was about you. About him. About the growing distance between the two of you.

He couldn’t afford to dwell on it, not now. Pushing the thoughts aside with the same discipline he applied to every other personal distraction, Bruce returned his focus to his work.

But that unease lingered, a heavy weight in his chest that no amount of reports or missions could quite shake.

“Richard,” Damian began, his tone flat and serious. “What does it mean when a girl cuts her hair short?”

The fast-food restaurant buzzed with the usual cacophony of clinking trays and murmured conversations. Damian sat stiffly across from Dick, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed in a way that made it clear he’d rather be anywhere else.

Dick, mid-bite of his burger, froze. Slowly, he put the burger down, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. Then, with a sly grin, he leaned forward. “Why’re you asking? Is there someone who caught your eye, little D? Someone from school, maybe?”

Damian scowled, his cheeks tinging slightly pink. “Do not be absurd. This is not about me.”

Dick chuckled, brushing crumbs off his hands. “Oh, so it’s not about you. But you want my expertise on the matter? Man, I didn’t know you valued my opinion so much.”

“I don’t,” Damian snapped, his glare intensifying. “But you’re a certified idiot when it comes to women, so your insight into their ridiculous behavior might be useful.”

“Ouch.” Dick placed a hand over his heart, feigning injury. “And here I thought we were bonding.”

“We’re not,” Damian replied flatly, though his posture shifted in discomfort.

At that moment, Tim approached the table, balancing a tray piled high with burgers and fries. He slid into the booth beside Dick, setting the tray down with a thud.

“What’s going on?” Tim asked, popping a fry into his mouth.

“Damian here wants to know why a girl would cut her hair short,” Dick said, his grin widening. “And apparently, I’m the expert on ‘ridiculous behavior.’”

Tim raised an eyebrow at Damian, who was now scowling at both of them. “Uh… okay. Who are we talking about?”

“It’s about… (name),” Damian muttered.

The lighthearted teasing immediately stalled. Tim and Dick exchanged a quick glance, their expressions shifting to something more serious.

Dick, however, quickly recovered, leaning back in his seat. “Nah, no way. (name) wouldn’t cut her hair. She’s been growing it out for years. You’re making this up.”

“I am not,” Damian snapped, crossing his arms. “You’ll see for yourselves later if you’re too thick-headed to believe me.”

“Okay, first of all, rude,” Dick said, grabbing a fry. “Second, I don’t know, man. She’s always been pretty attached to her hair. Like, she used to freak out if even half an inch got trimmed too short when she was younger.”

Damian scoffed audibly, narrowing his eyes at Dick. “Tsk. It’s not just a trim, Grayson. She cut her hair to her shoulders.” He said the word shoulders like it was a personal affront. “And it looks ridiculous.”

Dick frowned immediately. “Don’t say that, Damian,” he chided, but then his voice trailed off as his mind wandered. Shoulders? That was… really short.

His brow furrowed slightly as he thought about it. Had you really cut your hair? You were always so particular about it. He remembered vividly the offhanded comment you made years ago about how you liked your hair long because it made you feel elegant, pretty—like yourself.

Wait, years ago?

That sinking feeling began to gnaw at him. Sure, people changed their preferences all the time, but this felt… odd. Why now? Why so drastic?

“Grayson?” Damian’s sharp tone cut into his thoughts. “Are you malfunctioning, or have I rendered you speechless for once?”

“Huh?” Dick blinked, refocusing on the youngest Wayne.

“Useless,” Damian muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “I should have known better than to seek advice from you.”

Dick snapped out of it, shooting Damian a half-hearted glare. “Hey, you came to me, remember? And cutting hair isn’t ridiculous; it’s just a personal choice. People grow, Damian. Maybe she just… wanted a change.”

Damian raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Wanted a change? That’s the best you can come up with? Tt. I thought you were supposed to be insightful.”

“Okay, first of all,” Dick said, pointing at him with a fry, “you’re lucky I don’t throw this at you. And second, you’re the one acting all worked up about her hair. I’m just trying to figure out why you even care.”

“I don’t care,” Damian replied curtly. “I simply have standards, unlike you.”

“Oh, trust me, buddy, we know your standards are very high.” Dick smirked. “For someone who claims not to care, you’re putting a lot of energy into this.”

Damian glared, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I will not waste further time explaining myself to a fool.”

“Love you too, Dami,” Dick said with a cheeky grin, earning an eye roll from the younger boy.

Tim, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up. “Alright, so… are we just going to sit here debating haircuts, or are we going to eat?”

“Good idea,” Dick said, popping a fry into his mouth. But the momentary distraction didn’t stop his mind from circling back to you.

Why did you cut your hair? Was it really just a preference change? Maybe.

Damian’s voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts again. “Grayson, you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Staring into space like a dim-witted cow.”

Dick sighed, shoving a fry into his mouth. “Great talk, Damian. Really helpful.”

“Likewise,” Damian muttered, clearly unimpressed.

But Dick was already tuning him out. He needed to check in with you later. He heard you had patrol tonight—or at least that’s what Barbara had mentioned. Wait, why didn’t you tell him that yourself?

Whatever. He’d figure it out. If you were on patrol, he’d just join you and ask about that then. That is, if Damian doesn’t insist later on being his patrol partner…

Maybe it was nothing…

Tim sat in the booth, idly picking at a fry as his mind wandered. He’d been the one to steer the conversation away from your haircut, but now he couldn’t help but think about what Damian had said. You cut your hair? That didn’t sound like you at all.

Then again, what did Tim really know? It wasn’t like the two of you were close. Despite living in the same manor for the past three—almost four—years, there had always been this… distance between you.

He frowned, resting his chin on his hand. It hadn’t always been that way. He remembered the earlier days, when both you and him were just starting out. Back then, you used to ask him the most ridiculous questions about cases and missions—questions that made him pause and wonder if you were even paying attention to the briefing.

“What do you mean, ��How do you know which lead to follow?’” Tim had asked once, incredulous. He’d given you a look, that signature are you serious expression he reserved for when someone asked something truly baffling. Then, as always, he ended up solving the issue himself, bypassing the need to answer you at all.

At the time, it was mildly annoying but manageable. He figured you were just trying to find your footing. He told himself it wasn’t a big deal. But gradually, the number of times you came to him for help lessened. At first, Tim thought it was progress, that you were finally figuring things out on your own.

But no.

It didn’t take long for him to realize that your work was slipping. You’d miss key details, overlook evidence, or focus on the wrong leads entirely. And every time, it was Tim who ended up fixing it behind the scenes, covering for your mistakes before they could turn a case—or worse, a mission—into a disaster.

He hadn’t minded at first. But as it kept happening, as he kept watching you barrel forward with that same stubborn, hard-headed determination, something shifted.

Tim’s frustration grew. He started to wonder why you were even in this line of work. If you couldn’t handle the basics, what were you doing risking your life out there? Of course, he never said it out loud. He wasn’t that cruel, and he knew voicing those thoughts would probably lead to a fight neither of you wanted.

But still, it gnawed at him. That unspoken tension built over time, creating the invisible wall that now sat between you. He’d distanced himself on purpose, convinced that staying out of your way was better for the both of you.

But was it?

Tim sighed, pushing his tray of fries away as Damian and Dick bickered in the background. Now, the idea of you cutting your hair had wormed its way into his thoughts, and he couldn’t shake it.

You cut your hair.

It wasn’t about the haircut itself—it wasn’t about aesthetics or style. It was about what it represented. Something had changed. Had you?

And while Tim told himself he didn’t care, deep down, a small part of him wondered if he’d made a mistake keeping you at arm’s length all this time.

“Hold up, Babs, why exactly am I needed at the Batcave tonight again?” Stephanie said, twisting the tool in her hand to tighten a small screw.

She sat at Barbara’s clocktower, absentmindedly flicking through her phone while doing a small repair on one of her gadgets. She was content, for the moment at least, doing something mindless and waiting for whatever task Barbara would assign her for the night.

But when Barbara called her name and asked her to suit up for the night, Stephanie couldn’t help but frown.

Barbara sighed, her voice a little tired but still managing to hold a calm tone. “Tonight, we’re a little short-handed, Steph.”

“A little short-handed?” Stephanie repeated, letting out a disbelieving scoff. She glanced up at Barbara, clearly unimpressed. “How can it be short-handed when she’s around?”

Barbara knew who Stephanie meant by “she”. Why? Because you used to grab every mission or patrol you could, like you were always hungry for action, hungry for validation. There had always been this one-sided animosity between you and the blonde—more so you toward her. And it wasn’t like Stephanie was oblivious to the reason why.

It was because she’s Batgirl too. When Barbara and Dick allowed her to don the cowl during the events after Bruce’s “death,” Stephanie had been given the opportunities you wanted for yourself. Barbara knew that too, but she had chosen not to intervene, thinking that the animosity you felt would die down after a while.

Well, it did. But not in the way anyone expected.

Barbara adjusted her glasses as she leaned back in her chair. “(Name)’s not around tonight.”

Stephanie raised an eyebrow, confused by the simple statement. “Well that’s a first. Why not?”

Barbara hesitated, the words slow to come. “She… she quit.”

“…..”

“…..”

“WHAT??!?”

Barbara didn’t flinch at the outburst, her calm demeanor masking her own lingering confusion.

“Wait, wait,” Stephanie said, waving her hands in the air like she was trying to physically stop Barbara from speaking nonsense. “She quit? Are we talking about the same person? (Name) Wayne? The same person who basically begged to be Batgirl?”

Barbara shrugged slightly. “Bruce told me earlier today. Said she came into the cave, and told him she was done, and walked out. That’s all I know.”

“That’s all you know?” Stephanie repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief. She shook her head, scoffing. “That’s insane. She’s gotta be pulling some kind of dramatic move. Like, I don’t know, trying to get some attention or whatever. She’ll come back. Give her, like, two days, tops.”

Barbara frowned, though she didn’t entirely disagree. You were the type to make bold, emotional decisions, always seeking to prove yourself in some way. But there was something about how quiet and decisive you’d been when you quit that didn’t sit right with her.

“You don’t think she’s serious, do you?” Stephanie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” Barbara admitted. “It’s… unlike her, I’ll say that.”

Stephanie scoffed again, shaking her head as she stood up to grab her Batgirl suit. “Whatever. I’m calling it now—she’ll be back, and when she is, I’m going to remind her just how ridiculous she’s being.”

Barbara watched Stephanie slip into her suit, her mind racing with questions she didn’t have answers to. This wasn’t like you at all. You were persistent, stubborn even. You fought tooth and nail for the Batgirl mantle, always pushing to prove yourself despite the doubts and obstacles.

For you to just walk away, without warning, felt… wrong.

As Stephanie tightened her utility belt and prepared to head out, she didn’t notice the far-off look in Barbara’s eyes. Even if you were planning to come back, the decision to quit felt too deliberate, too final.

And for the first time in a long time, Barbara found herself worrying about you in a way she hadn’t before.

After telling your father that you quit—and seeing how easily he let you go—you couldn’t stop replaying the scene in your head.

You walked through the halls of Wayne Manor, your mind heavy with frustration, confusion, and a gnawing emptiness that you couldn’t quite name. As you turned the corner, too lost in your thoughts to pay attention, you bumped into someone.

“Sorry,” you muttered automatically, not even looking up at first. But when you did, you froze.

Cassandra.

She stood in front of you, already suited up in her sleek black Bat costume, the faint outline of her emblem catching the light. She looked ready for patrol, or maybe she was just on her way to the Batcave. Her mask wasn’t on yet, so her sharp eyes were trained directly on you, studying you in the way that always made you feel exposed.

For a moment, you two just stared at each other in silence.

You were the first to move, brushing past her quickly without another word. But before you could make it more than a few steps, her voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Your hair.”

You turned around, confused, and caught her still looking at you with that unreadable expression of hers.

“Yeah,” you said, your tone clipped. “I cut it. I know. I get it. It’s awful.”

You made a move to leave again, but her next words surprised you enough to freeze you in place.

“No,” Cassandra said simply, her voice softer now. “It looks… really nice.”

You blinked, staring at her like she’d grown a second head. A compliment? From Cassandra? That wasn’t something you were used to.

“Thanks,” you said after a moment, your voice quieter now. “I guess.”

Without waiting for her to say anything else, you turned and headed back to your room. Your mind raced with the strangeness of the interaction as you climbed the stairs, the faintest trace of heat rising to your cheeks.

It wasn’t just her compliment that threw you off. It was the fact that she’d initiated a conversation at all. Cassandra had always been silent around you, her communication limited to nods, gestures, or the occasional word when necessary. For her to speak up, to make an effort, felt… different.

Weird, you thought as you closed the door behind you.

Uncharacteristic.

But as you sat on the edge of your bed, you couldn’t help but replay her words in your mind.

“It looks… really nice.”

For some reason, they lingered longer than you expected.

From the moment Cassandra bumped into you in the hallway, she could tell something was off. The way you carried yourself, the weight in your movements—it was different. Subtle, but undeniable. She couldn’t quite place what had changed, but it unsettled her.

As she descended into the Batcave, the low hum of tension greeted her before she even stepped off the elevator.

Bruce and Damian were mid-argument, their voices sharp and escalating. Damian’s fists were clenched tightly at his sides, his face twisted in anger, while Bruce’s tone was firm but weary, as if he’d been repeating himself for the hundredth time.

Nearby, Dick stood between them, hands raised in a futile attempt to diffuse the tension. Stephanie leaned casually against the wall, scrolling on her phone while occasionally glancing at Tim, who was tinkering with one of his gadgets. They were the only ones who seemed unaffected by the brewing storm.

When Cassandra stepped into view, Steph looked up and gave her a warm smile. “Cass! Finally, someone sane. Come join us before this place explodes.”

Tim glanced up as well, offering a quick wave before turning back to his project. Cassandra hesitated for a moment but walked over to join them, her eyes still flicking toward the argument at the center of the cave.

Damian’s sharp voice cut through the relative calm of her corner. “Why is Brown here? Isn’t it supposed to be (Name)’s turn to patrol tonight?”

Stephanie scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Wow, thanks for the warm welcome, little guy,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Damian ignored her, his gaze locked on Bruce. “Well?” he demanded.

Bruce sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “She’s not patrolling tonight.”

Damian’s brows furrowed, his tone growing more impatient. “And why not? Where is she?”

The tension in the room thickened as Bruce finally answered. “She quit.”

For a moment, the entire cave went still. Everyone except Stephanie and Bruce froze, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief.

“What?” Damian said flatly, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

Dick was the first to intervene, stepping forward and addressing Bruce directly. “What do you mean, she quit?”

Bruce’s tone was even, but there was an edge of finality in it. “Exactly what I said. She told me she quit, and I respected her decision.”

Damian’s jaw clenched, his hands tightening into fists. “And you just let her?”

Bruce gave him a calm but firm look. “If that’s what she wants, who am I to stop her?”

Damian’s expression darkened, his anger bubbling over. “Unacceptable,” he growled. “There’s no way she just quits. Something’s wrong.”

Before Bruce could respond, Damian spun on his heel. “I’m asking her myself,” he snapped, already storming toward the elevator.

“Damian—” Bruce started, but Damian ignored him, disappearing up the elevator shaft before anyone could stop him.

The silence that followed was palpable, the weight of Damian’s fury lingering in the air.

Dick broke it first, his voice calm but resolute. “I’ll go talk to him.”

Bruce hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Go. Make sure he doesn’t do something reckless.”

As Dick followed after Damian, the remaining group stayed quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. Cassandra’s gaze lingered on Bruce, her mind still replaying your distant expression from earlier. Something about all of this felt… wrong.

And she wasn’t the only one who thought so.

The peace and quiet of your room shattered when the door slammed open without so much as a knock. You looked up, startled, to see Damian standing in the doorway, his eyes blazing with fury and confusion.

“You quit?” he demanded, his voice sharp and biting, his tone leaving no room for pleasantries.

Caught off guard, you blinked at him. “Good evening to you too, Damian,” you said dryly, already bracing yourself for the argument that was clearly brewing.

He stepped inside, fists clenched tightly at his sides. “Don’t give me that,” he snapped. “What do you mean you quit? You seriously quit? Why?”

You let out an annoyed sigh, already tired of his interrogation. “Why? Can’t I quit?” you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice.

Damian’s jaw tightened, his expression shifting from anger to utter disbelief. “Are you right in the head?” he shot back, his voice rising. “What kind of madness is this? Did all those late nights finally drive you insane?”

Ok, that ticked you off. Slightly.

“Seriously?” you deadpanned, giving him a pointed look. “You think this is about me losing it?”

“Yes!” Damian barked, his voice ringing through the room. “First, you cut your hair off like it didn’t mean a damn thing to you, and now you suddenly walk up to Father and say you’re done being Batgirl? Just like that? You’ve completely lost it!”

You frowned, irritation creeping into your voice, but you kept calm. “Nothing is wrong with me,” you replied firmly. “I made a decision. I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“Not my business?” Damian repeated, his voice incredulous. He stepped closer, pointing a finger at you. “This affects all of us! You can’t just make a decision like this without considering what it means for the rest of the family!”

You stood up, arms crossed. “And why does that bother you so much? You’ve never cared about what I do. All you’ve ever done is criticize me, undermine me, act like I don’t belong here in the first place! So why do you care now?”

“I don’t care!” Damian snapped, though his voice faltered for just a second. “I care about what your actions mean for our family. You walking away like this—it’s selfish, reckless—”

That was it. The breaking point.

“Selfish?” you shot back, the irritation in your voice finally boiling over. “You’re calling me selfish? After everything I’ve done to prove myself? After all the crap I’ve put up with just to show all of you that I deserve to be here? And you have the audacity to call me selfish?”

Damian threw his hands up in frustration. “This isn’t just about you! Do you even realize what you’re throwing away? What your actions say about the rest of us? You’re acting like—”

“Like what? Like I’m done?” you yelled, cutting him off. “Because I am, Damian! I’m done trying to live up to expectations that no one even thought I could meet in the first place! I’m done being the one who has to prove herself every damn day just to get a shred of acknowledgment!”

“That’s ridiculous!” Damian shot back, his tone defensive. “Father wouldn’t have given you the mantle if you didn’t deserve it. You’re just—”

You cut him off again, your voice sharper, harsher. “He gave me the mantle because I practically begged him to. Not because he thought I deserved it. And every day since, I’ve tried to make up for it, to prove that I do deserve it. But nothing ever works. I get sidelined, tossed aside, whenever Father or Dick or anyone else decides I’m not good enough to help.”

Damian scoffed, crossing his arms. “You don’t get sidelined. You’re just making things up.”

“Oh, shut up,” you snapped, your tone biting now. “Don’t act like you know what I go through.”

Damian opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off again, your voice rising. “No, don’t you dare. You don’t know. You don’t know how it feels to constantly feel like you’re not good enough, to be compared to everyone else and always come up short. You don’t get it, Damian, and you never will. Because you’ve always been the heir, the one Father sees as his true successor. But me? I’ve been nothing but an afterthought.”

Damian’s face faltered for a brief moment, something unspoken flashing in his eyes. He hated the way his chest ached at your words.

“That’s not true,” he said finally, though his voice lacked conviction.

“Isn’t it?” you challenged, your voice trembling with exhaustion and frustration. “Because it sure doesn’t feel like it. Not when I’m constantly being sidelined, not when I have to fight for scraps of approval while everyone else gets a free pass. And definitely not when even you can’t see me as anything but second-rate!”

Damian hesitated, caught off guard by the raw emotion in your voice. He quickly shook it off, doubling down. “This is beneath you,” he said coldly. “Throwing a tantrum and walking away won’t fix anything.”

“A tantrum?” you echoed, your voice trembling with a mix of fury and hurt. “You think this is a tantrum? Damian, this is me saying I’ve had enough. I’m tired of breaking myself for a family that doesn’t even see me!”

“Then make them see you!” Damian countered, his voice rising again. “You don’t just quit because it’s hard! You don’t just give up!”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “Of course, that’s your answer. Just fight harder, right? Because that’s all you know how to do. But I’m not like you, Damian. I can’t keep pretending that this fight is worth it.”

“Not worth it?” Damian repeated, his tone disbelieving. “Are you actually kidding me? Richard told me that fighting for family is always worth it—”

“Well Richard can go fuck himself for all I care,” you snapped, cutting him off. “For someone who prides himself as a family guy, he’s done a great fucking job proving that, hasn’t he?”

Damian bristled, his voice rising. “Don’t talk about Richard that way—”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “I forgot he actually gives a damn about you. No wonder you have such a biased perspective on how he really is.”

Damian froze, stunned into silence by your words. The room grew unbearably quiet, tension heavy in the air.

Finally, Damian let out a sharp breath, his voice low but laced with finality. “This isn’t over,” he said, turning on his heel.

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving you alone, your chest heaving from the intensity of the argument. You sank back into your chair, exhaustion settling in as the adrenaline faded. But the ache in your heart lingered, sharp and unyielding.

Damian’s words echoed in your mind, each one like a sharp jab to the chest. Selfish. Reckless. The words rang in your ears, infuriating and unfair.

Damnit. You hadn’t meant to blow up on him. But everything was just… too much. It wasn’t like you could keep pretending it was fine anymore.

Your fingers dug into the armrest of the chair as you shut your eyes, the headache beginning to set in behind your eyes. You could almost feel the physical ache of the emotional turmoil. I don’t care… You repeated the words silently, but it only made the ache in your chest worse. You had always cared about this family. You had tried so hard to belong, to prove yourself.

But what had it gotten you? You fought tooth and nail for the mantle of Batgirl, begging for the chance to prove you were worthy of it. Yet, here you were, useless in Damian’s eyes, ready to walk away. Maybe he was right—maybe you were being reckless, selfish. Because if you weren’t being Batgirl, who were you anymore? You certainly didn’t feel like the Bruce Wayne’s daughter.

You scoffed bitterly, shaking your head. They’d be fine without you, you thought. They always are. It wasn’t like your role in the family made a difference. You had always felt like an afterthought, never quite fitting in the way your siblings did. They all had their roles—Damian was the heir, Tim was the brain, Jason was the wild card, Cassandra was the silent powerhouse, and Dick was the one holding everyone together. You? You were just… there. Batgirl, but only when they needed you, only when it was convenient. When Stephanie wasn’t around. You hated to admit it, but she was undeniably a better Batgirl than you could ever be. You only saw that now, after everything you’ve been through.

“I should’ve quit a long time ago,” you muttered to yourself, your voice hollow.

They didn’t need you. Not really.

You clenched your fists at your sides, frustration building again. But then, as much as you tried to convince yourself that quitting was the right decision, you felt the doubt creep in. The sting of Damian’s words lingered like a cut, refusing to heal. What had you really thrown away?

Damian thought it was selfish? Well, maybe it was. But that wasn’t all there was to it. He couldn’t see it. He didn’t know the pain you’d been carrying all this time. The weight of the mantle, the pressure to be someone you weren’t sure you could be. You literally died because you wanted to prove you deserved this mantle.

But Damian didn’t know that. No one in the family did. To them, you were still 16. But you were 20, somehow in your 16 year old body. And frankly, you didn’t think anyone would have believed you if you told them. They’d probably rule you off as delirious.

Was it selfish to want to take a step back, to breathe, to figure out who you were without the costume, without feeling the need to live up to unrealistic expectations?

You ran a hand through your hair, pulling at the ends of the newly cut strands. It felt different—lighter, maybe—but it didn’t fix anything. The ache in your chest remained.

Taking a deep breath, you stood up and walked over to the window, staring out at the Gotham skyline. The night was quiet, peaceful even, but you felt nothing but turmoil inside. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t supposed to feel so lost, so empty after making a decision that was supposed to bring you peace.

But all you felt was the sting of Damian’s words, the echo of a family that would carry on without you. Maybe you weren’t meant to fit in. Maybe you were never meant to be Batgirl. Maybe quitting was the only way to let go of the weight you couldn’t carry anymore.

But the thought of it didn’t bring relief. It only brought more questions. More doubts. And the ache in your chest kept growing.

Dick made his way out of the Batcave, the soft hum of the cave’s equipment still echoing in his ears as he began his search. He knew the halls of the Batcave well, had spent hours running through them as a child, but for some reason, he couldn’t place exactly where Damian had gone.

Where would he be?

He knew Damian wasn’t the type to go off and brood in silence. No, if Damian had something to say, he’d say it—loudly. So the question was: Where would he go to find you?

Dick’s feet moved without thought, his mind running through options, trying to remember every possible place Damian could have gone. There was the training room, sure, but that didn’t seem likely. The library, maybe? No. He probably went to look for you in your room.

Dick’s boots echoed softly on the polished floor as he headed toward the hall where your room was supposed to be. His steps slowed, however, as a troubling realization settled in his chest.

Wait… where was your room?

Dick froze in the hallway, blinking in confusion. His gaze wandered down the corridor, his mind grinding to a halt. He’d known you for years, shared the same space, even lived under the same roof for what felt like forever—but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember where your room was.

It was a simple enough question—where was your room? He’d been there countless times, right? He’d spent so much time around the Manor, yet now, all he could think about was the fact that he couldn’t pinpoint the location of your room. The door had been right there, hadn’t it? Near the end of the hall? Or maybe down by the study?

Dick’s breath caught in his chest, and he quickly shook the thought off.

This is ridiculous.

He was probably just overthinking it. He was the oldest, the one who had been around the longest. It didn’t make sense for him to suddenly forget something so simple. Get it together, Grayson.

But the more he tried to focus, the more his thoughts twisted into a spiral. He knew where everyone’s room was.

How could he not know? Sixteen years. He’d known you for sixteen years. He’d visited this house, stayed in this house, lived in this house for years, and yet…

His breath hitched. The realization was almost too absurd to comprehend.

He knew where Damian’s room was. Knew where Tim’s was. Knew Cassandra’s, hell, he even knew where Jason’s childhood room was—Jason, who didn’t even live here anymore. He even knew the little quirks about each of their spaces: the sword display in Damian’s, the books stacked haphazardly in Tim’s.

But your room?

His mind was blank. He couldn’t even picture it.

Had he ever been to your room? Surely, he must have at some point. Right? His stomach twisted as he tried to remember, as if dredging up a memory he wasn’t sure even existed. Why couldn’t he see it in his mind? How could he have let this slip past him?

Panic began to rise in his chest as the uncertainty clawed at him. He’d been part of this family for years. He knows you the longest out of everyone. He should have known this.

Dick stood in the middle of the hall, mind reeling. How could he forget?

Before he could descend further into his spiral, he heard it. Muffled voices, raised in anger, followed by the unmistakable sound of a door slamming shut.

Your room.

Without thinking, Dick’s instincts kicked in, and he started moving toward the sound. He rounded the corner just in time to see Damian storming off, his face set in a mask of fury. He didn’t even spare Dick a glance, his steps quick, purposeful.

“Damian!” Dick called, jogging after him, a mix of concern and confusion flooding his mind. “Hey, wait up.”

Damian didn’t slow down. If anything, his pace quickened, and he shot a look over his shoulder, eyes narrowed. “I don’t have time for this, Grayson.”

Dick’s frustration only grew. “What’s going on? What happened in there?”

Damian’s fists clenched at his sides as he turned his head back toward the direction he was walking. “Nothing you need to know.” His voice was tight, clipped.

Dick’s steps faltered, but he wasn’t about to back down. “Damian, come on—don’t shut me out. What happened with you and (name)?”

Damian, however, wasn’t interested in talking. His head jerked up with a scowl. “I don’t need you to fix this, Grayson. I don’t need anyone’s help.”

Dick, unwilling to let it go, caught up to him and blocked his path. “Damian, I’m not trying to fix anything. I just want to understand what happened. Why are you so upset?”

Damian’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with something more than anger. “Because I don’t understand it!” he snapped. “(Name) quit. She quit, Dick! And you’re all just standing around pretending like nothing’s wrong! That it doesn’t matter!”

That stopped Dick in his tracks. His heart sank as the weight of Damian’s words hit him. Standing around and pretending like nothing’s wrong? That it doesn’t matter? Of course not. He’s worried too. You quit? It didn’t make sense. But before Dick could respond, Damian was already pushing past him, practically shoving him out of the way.

“Damian—” Dick started again, but the younger boy cut him off, raising a hand to silence him.

“Don’t. Just don’t. I’m done with this conversation.”

Dick’s hand shot out instinctively, grabbing Damian’s arm before he could walk past. “Damian, stop. Just talk to me for a second.”

Damian whirled around, his eyes full of frustration and barely contained rage. “Why? So you can tell me everything’s fine? That we’re just supposed to accept this?” His voice cracked, just slightly, and Dick saw the sharp pain beneath the anger. “You don’t get it, Grayson. She quit. She walked away, and it feels like no one’s doing anything about it. No one cares!” His fists clenched tighter, the tension in his body radiating off him like a live wire.

Dick felt a heavy lump settle in his throat, a mixture of confusion and concern. He understood Damian’s anger—he was angry too, but his reaction was much more raw, and far more personal than Dick had anticipated.

Dick’s hand remained on Damian’s arm, his grip tightening ever so slightly, trying to ground him in the chaos of the moment. He stared at Damian, confusion and concern evident in his eyes. “What do you mean by that?” Dick asked, his voice softer now, tinged with confusion. “Of course I care about her, Damian. But getting upset won’t change anything.”

Damian let out a sharp, humorless laugh, his eyes narrowing in frustration. “Sure, you care now,” he scoffed. “But it doesn’t feel like that to her, does it?”

Dick froze, his hand still gripping Damian’s arm, but now it felt more like a lifeline for him, trying to hold onto something solid in the midst of this emotional storm. “What are you talking about?” he asked, his heart starting to pound. “You’re not making sense.”

Damian pulled his arm away sharply, his movements tense and jerky. “Whatever,” he muttered, his voice growing colder. “I don’t have time for this. I’m going to the cave.” He turned on his heel, striding away, his anger still hanging heavy in the air.

Dick stood there for a moment, his mind reeling. Damian’s words were like a punch to the gut, and Dick couldn’t make sense of them. It doesn’t feel like that to her. What was he talking about? Was Damian implying that you didn’t believe Dick cared about you? That you’d somehow gotten the impression that no one cared, that no one was doing anything to stop you from leaving?

A knot of anxiety formed in Dick’s stomach as the implications of Damian’s words settled in. Did you really think he didn’t care? The thought gnawed at him, twisting and turning in his chest.

He had always assumed you knew how much he valued you, how much he cared for you—as family, as his sister. But now, he wondered if he’d ever truly shown that.

Damian’s words continued to echo in his head as he stood there, frozen for a moment longer. What did he mean? Dick couldn’t fathom why you would feel that way.

With a sigh, he pushed those thoughts aside, his mind refocusing. He had to find you. He couldn’t let this go on any longer, especially if you thought you weren’t seen, weren’t valued. He had to fix this, whatever it took. But when he makes his way to your room, Dick just freezes in his place. What should he say to you? What would make you feel better? Dick hates how nothing instantly comes to his mind, hates how he couldn’t form a solution to try and resolve whatever conflict you had with Damian.

Without another word, Dick turned towards the cave, his resolve hardening. He’ll just wait until you’ve calmed down from your emotional argument with Damian, and then talk to you.

how we feeling about this chapter 😘

taglist (open): @tricksters-maze @dusk-muse @quethekillerqueen @silverklaus @isupportorbitalbombardment @nxdxsworld @vanessa-boo @coffeeaddictxd @moonsbluekingdom @yuya-bubbly @percythebitchwitch @anonymousdisco @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @redsakura101 @what-0-life @idkwhattoputhete @secretyouthcomputer @witch-waycult @allycat4458 @dazed-lavender @eclecticfurylady @wizzerreblogs @marsmabe @daddysfangirls-dc @hoeinthehouse @beeweensblog @ilxandra @agent-nobody-knows @thethingwiththefeathers @mochiivqi @pix-stuff @narration-ator @nebulousmoon3990 @delias-stuff @froggy-voidd @jjsmeowthie @kore-of-the-underworld @nen-nyy @juthesillylesbain @vikkus-main @emilylouise123 @blueiones @horror-lover-69 @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wassupbroski55555 @reallyromealone @plsfckmedxddy @sea-glasses @203moonysello @luvly-writer @dovey-quacks2332 @love-theangel @hotdinosankles @vebbiewuzhere | ask to be added <3 (idk why i can’t tag some of y’all, must be your settings i think 😓)

[mariasont]

EEEEK your post prison fic for spencer is fREAking me out!!! could you maybe do one where spencer is now teasing the reader a bit? maybe he's giving her extra praise and she freaks (what would i do if he called me a good girl? 😩) (this is very indulgent to my praise kink i'm so so sorry 🧎🏻‍♀️‍➡️) tytyty!! i adore love and cherish you and your work 💕

I Aim To Please - S.R

a/n: shewwwwww to be complimented by post prison spencer fucking reid. im drooling!!!! but anyway babes i adore & love YOU!!!! so thank u so so sooo much for requesting 💖💖

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x shy!media-liaison!reader

warnings: spencer being hot, reader being shy girl, spencer being a little shit who loves to tease

wc: 1.5k

There were a few basic rules you had established from working at BAU. First, avoid Rossi at all costs until he’s had at least two cups of coffee. Second, never attempt to outwit Emily; she’ll see right through you and crush your argument every single time. And third—perhaps the most crucial—do everything in your power to maintain your freaking composure around Dr. Reid.

That last one, however, was proving to be a monumental challenge. It wasn’t just the way he spoke, his brain firing off at a speed only he could keep up with. It wasn’t even the way he seemed oblivious to how endearing those very quirks were. No, it was the fact that the simple act of him breathing in your direction had you scrambling to hold yourself together. And honestly you were failing miserably.

Which is why you spent most of your time holed up in your office. It wasn’t much—just a desk, a slightly uncomfortable chair, and a perpetually growing stack of case files that seemed determined to bury you. But it offered privacy, and that was enough. Here you could breathe, decompress, and occasionally allow yourself to daydream about a certain genius profiler without the risk of public humiliation.

The bullpen was proving to be too chaotic, too close to him. Your office gave you distance, a buffer. But, as you had come to learn, hiding only worked when he didn’t decide to seek you out. And Spencer Reid had a knack for finding you when you least expected it.

"Hey."

You jumped slightly, nearly fumbling the stack of press notes you’d been carefully organizing.

Turning toward the door, you found Spencer leaning casually against the frame, a file tucked under one arm and a distracted sort of smile on his face. His tie was slightly loosened, his sleeves rolled up just enough to expose his forearms, and—just like that—your brain completely short-circuited.

"Hi," you said, trying not to sound too startled. "Do you, um, need something?"

"Yeah." He further into the room, lifting the file in explanation. "I was looking at the local coverage of our case, and I noticed a couple discrepancies in the timeline published."

"Oh,” you said softly, quickly shuffling the press notes into a messy pile and pushing them to the side. "Well, um, sometimes reporters try to fill gaps when they don't the facts. It's... frustrating, but it happens."

You glanced up at him briefly, but that look of his made your cheeks warm. Your fingers twisted together in your lap as you tried to focus on anything other than how ridiculously self-conscious you suddenly felt.

"That makes sense. I figured you'd know."

Instead of lingering in the doorway or leaving like you assumed he would, Spencer, casually grabbed the chair across from your desk. He spun it around in one fluid motion and sat it backwards, draping his arms on the backrest with an ease that felt strangely familiar—like you had been friends or colleagues for years instead of just a few months.

"I'll reach out to them about fixing the timeline," you said, your hand instinctively moving a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You clasped your hands together to still them, offering a small, nervous smile. "It shouldn't be too hard to correct."

"Thanks," he said. "That'll probably save from giving another long-winded lecture on factual reporting."

You gave a quiet laugh, grateful for the distraction from your tasks, though you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about the company. Not that you didn’t enjoy his company—there was plenty to enjoy, more than you cared to admit. If you could manage to function like a normal human being around him, you might even look forward to moments like this.

But then he tilted his head slightly, his eyes studying you as if he were unraveling some kind of puzzle and for one terrifying second, you were convinced he could hear every single thought racing through your mind.

"So," he began, "how are you liking it here so far? The job, I mean. Is it what you expected?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. "Oh, um... yeah. It's been great so far. Busy, but... I like it."

"That's good," he said, nodding. "I know it’s not exactly the most predictable job. Some people don't expect it to be so... chaotic."

"Well," you said, fidgeting slightly with your pen. "I knew what I was signing up for. Or, at least I thought I did. It's a lot, but it's rewarding."

"That's a good attitude to have," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Honestly, you're doing a great job. I don't know how you manage to keep everything straight."

Your heart leaped, thudding in your chest as warmth flooded your face. You weren’t used to hearing compliments, especially from someone like him. You wanted to savor the moment, to bottle up the way his words made you feel, but your nerves refused to let you fully enjoy it.

"I'm just, um, organized I guess,” you stammered, your hand flying up to rub at the back of your neck.

"More than just organized," he replied easily, completely unaware of how his words were affecting you. "You've got half the team wrapped around your finger already. Even Rossi listen when you talk. That's impressive."

Your face burned. "I think that's more about respect for the job than me."

Spencer shrugged lightly, as he was watching you, like he didn't quite believe you. "Maybe. Or maybe you're just better at this than you give yourself credit for."

You let out a nervous chuckle, fingers twitching as you fiddled with the corner of the paper in front of you.

"I don't... I don't know about that."

He tilted his head, again, his brow quirking. "Do you know how to take a compliment?"

"Of course I do." You were sure your voice lacked the conviction needed.

He smirked, leaning forward over the chair. "Doesn't seem like it."

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words stuck in your throat, tangled in the frantic web that was your thoughts around this infuriating man.

"Well, uh, you’ve only done it twice, so I don’t think that’s enough for you to judge."

His grin widened. "Oh? So you’re saying I should try again? For research purposes?"

Your eyes widened, and you blinked rapidly as if to process his words, your hands shooting up as if to physically block the implication. "I—uh—no, that's not what I meant.”

"No, no," he said, sitting up straighter and waiving off your flustered attempt to deflect. "I aim to please. If more compliments are what you’re after, I’ve got plenty.”

"Please, no."

"You're incredibly efficient. Seriously, I think you've managed to anticipate what the team needs before we even know we need it. And your ability to keep your cool under pressure? That's impressive. I mean, do you even get stressed? Because if you do, you hide it really well."

"Dr. Reid—," you squeaked, covering your face with your hands as if that could somehow shield you from the onslaught of praise.

"And," he continued, clearly now enjoying himself. "You're probably the most patient person, I've ever met. Which is something, considering you work with people who constantly interrupt and derail your perfectly planned press briefings."

Your stomach flipped, and you felt a flush of heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment pooling in your chest. As much as you wanted to sink to the floor, the way he looked at you sent every nerve in your body spiraling. Each word felt like it was tailored to you, peeling back the very thin veneer of control you’d desperately tried to maintain over the massive crush you found yourself drowning in.

Your head dropped to the desk with a soft thunk, muffling your groan. "Okay, okay, I get it."

He leaned forward just slightly, resting his chin on his arms atop the chair. "Now what do you say?"

"Thank you."

He smirked widened. "See? That wasn't so hard was it?"

Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you averted your eyes, trying to hide the nervous smile tugging at your lips. "You didn't have to go on and on..."

"Oh, but I did." He was still grinning. "You deserved it."

You risked a glance back at him, losing your cool by the second. That only made your face heat up more. "You're impossible."

"And yet, you haven't kicked me out of your office."

"That's only because I didn’t think it would work."

"Well," he said, turning towards the door. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't mind the compliments."

You opened your mouth to protest but no words came out. Instead, you watched helplessly as he shot you one last smile before disappearing into the hallway.

When the door finally clicked shut behind him, you let out a shaky breath and drop your head back onto the desk.

taglist: @readergf @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @broadwaytraaaaash @r-3dlips @m-indkiller @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @reiderrambles @averyhotchner @hbwrelic @sky2nd @messylxve @alexxavicry @doigettokeepyou @pleasantwitchgarden @kodzukenmaaa @hiireadstuff @spenciesslut @phoenix-le-danseur-de-pole @c-losur3 @theylovemelody @alahnizamolo @oliver-1270 @ssahotchbabe @savagemickey03 @justanotherbimboslxt @imoonkiss @spiderladyleah @estragos @khxna @spencerssoup @de-duchess @raysmayhem-72 @piinksdoll @kcch-ns @cool-light32 @reidfile @i-live-in-spite

join my taglist here!

[monstersflashlight]

Advent calendar: Day 5. Alien discovers Christmas

A/N: This is for all the anons asking me for more Fem x Fem stories, but mainly it's for myself bc I love the idea of a female alien taking me away. Enjoy!

Fem!alien x fem!reader || 69-ing, oral sex, sensory deprivation (blindfolds), soft dom/sub

“What do you mean there’s a big human coming into your house as you sleep!? That’s burglary!” You suppress a laugh, trying not to be mean at her obvious confusion. “How can you be so calm about this? I need to get my weapons, I need to prepare for this big red man that’s going to come and enter our house. I need to protect you,” she was spiraling into a frenzy.

You get up, standing right in front of her, grabbing her face in your hands and making her lean down so you can stare into her completely white eyes as you say: “Hey, hey. Calm down. It’s not a real man, okay? It’s a kid’s tale. An excuse for humans to give each other presents and believe there’s a bit of magic and joy in the world, okay?” She breathes a bit easier after the explanation and you congratulate yourself for a crisis averted. One more point for the human, yay!

“Then you are lying to your young?” She asks, once again confused with what you just said, which is very valid because when you put it like that it does sound a bit weird.

You think about it and let out a chuckle. “Yeah, we kind of are.”

“That seems rude and mean. They are so tiny and weak…” She looks almost disgusted when she says it, as if the mere thought of kids repulses her. You have to hug her and hide your face in her neck to avoid bursting out laughing. She’s so funny without even trying to, you can feel the love you feel for her filling every crevice of your heart.

But then you remember. “Do you want your present now? Normally we don’t open them till morning, but you aren’t human so… We can make our own rules.” Truth be told, you only want her to open the present because the possessive tone and willingness to protect you made you kind of hot. And her present involved a lot of hotness in your future.

“You have a present?” She asks, surprised.

“Oh yeah… A present you are going to love,” you tell her with a smirk. She looks at you and responds with another smirk of her own, her very long and pointy fangs showing and making a tremor run down your back. Fuck, she’s so hot in all her otherworldliness.

“Is that so, my love?” You bet she already knows it’s going to be something sexual, but you don’t care she knows, it’s not a surprise that you enjoy her body as often as possible, you are obsessed with your alien girlfriend. Who could blame you? She’s gorgeous.

You pull away from her body and start taking out her clothes. “Let’s go to our room and I’ll show you…” You take everything and when her pants are around her knees, you exclaim: “Race you!” You know you are playing dirty as she gets out a curse behind you. You laugh all the way to the bedroom.

You make it to the room and she’s there not two seconds later, a trail of clothes in the hallway as she enters the room with a predatory look in her eyes. But that’s not in your plans for tonight.

She’s usually the one in charge, but you want this to be about her. That’s your gift, a whole night pleasuring only her. “Lay down, eyes closed,” you order, trying to be as authoritative as possible (which isn’t much). She lets out a chuckle, making you smile at her as she complies.

Both of you know she could overpower you at any time, her physique so much better than yours. But you also know she’s not going to do it, and that makes you even hotter. It’s exhilarating to know such a powerful alien would surrender all the power and trust to a human like you, it makes your pussy tingle in anticipation of what’s to come.

“I’m going to cover your eyes so you can’t see anything, okay?” She nods, her eyes still closed, her hands pinned to the bed as you caress the sides of her body until she shivers. She’s so pretty you want to scream.

You cover her eyes with the silk ribbon you bought for this special occasion, it has wintery motives and you loved it when you saw it, already picturing it against her pale blue-ish skin. It looks better than you expected against her skin, and you want nothing else but to lean down and kiss her breathless.

So you do. You two kiss until her hands find your ass and she starts groping you. You pull away with a laugh, taking her hands back to the bed. “Nothing of that, this is about you.” She nods in understanding, but you don’t have to see her eyes to know that’s not the end of the discussion. But she doesn’t say anything as you start touching her naked body.

She twitches when your cold fingers find her flower shaped nipples, startled for a second, and you grin in triumph. You travel your fingers down her body, tracing the patters of her war tattoos as she gasps every time you go over one of her sensitive ridges. It’s so hot to see her so pliant and vulnerable, you are dripping wet already.

She speaks up as you kiss the side of her hip, making you stop for a second at her words: “I can smell your desire, my love… Let me do something about it.” The innuendo is clear in her tone and you have to focus really hard not to say yes instantly. You want that so, so bad.

“You aren’t in control today,” you remind her. “This is your present.” You say it for her, but most of all you say it to yourself. This is all about her.

“What better present that to have your sweet cunt over my mouth, riding my face?” Her words send a shiver down your spine, a tiny whine escaping before you can contain it. She chuckles and you curse under your breath, making her laugh harder.

So you play dirty, once again. You open her legs and dip your head. “You are a very cocky alien to be so wet already,” you say as you lean down and lick over her juices. She screams your name as she arches her back, making you feel powerful.

You have no mercy when you start using all your tricks to make her lose her mind, your hands cupping her small boobs as you pinch her nipples and use your tongue to play with her opening. Aliens like her don’t have a clit, but her pussy is so sensitive she can come over and over just with your tongue (fact that you take advantage of as much as possible).

You get her to come twice before you feel the switch in her body, the way she tenses and your belly fills with anticipation. “Come here,” she says. Her tone already tells you lost, there’s no way she would use that tone if she wasn’t going to take control.

And she does.

She pulls the blindfold off and manhandles you until your pussy is over her face and your face is over her pussy. You’ve never tried 69 before, but as soon as her tongue finds your clit, you are seeing stars and screaming her name until our throat feels raw. Then you remember you are supposed to be returning the favor.

Fuck, it’s so hard to focus when her extra long tongue is hitting your G-spot and her fangs are gracing your clit in a way that feels dangerous but so fucking hot you are about to explode.

“You are too good, fuck, I don’t know if I’ll last,” you warn her as you start moving your hips against her face. She grunts in agreement, her tongue moving faster and her fingers finding your asshole at the same time her other hand flicks one of your nipples.

It takes you less than three seconds to be coming messily around her tongue. But she doesn’t stop there. Of course she doesn’t, she is obsessed with your taste and once she gets her tongue against you, she wouldn’t stop until you’ve come at least five times (which you enjoy greatly), but right now, with her pussy in front of your face, you can’t focus enough.

Fuck.

You can’t let her win this, you promised yourself, this would be about her. It’s her gift. You lean down with renovated vigor as you try to bring her to climax as fast as possible, using all the tricks in your sleeve as she does the same.

Good Goddess. Why does he have to be so fucking good with her tongue?

You keep going, using your fingers to touch the soft area right below her opening, the part of her that makes her scream and thrash around the bed every time you use your special dildo with her. She gasps around your clit, two of her fingers inside of your cunt, rubbing your G-spot until your eyes black out and you come messily once again.

She continues her orgasms quest as you renovate your efforts, which are rewarded when two seconds later she screams against your pussy and you feel the gush of fluid coming out of her. You lap at it like it’s the best meal possible, and she thrashes under you, almost throwing you off her body, but you hold tight as you start finger her.

Her voice is hoarse, but she keeps fucking you with two fingers, his thumb against your asshole, and when she enters your back door, you scream and something inside of you breaks. You feel the gush of squirt all over her as she gasps and stops moving, as surprised as you.

You both are breathing fast and hard by the time you stop coming. She turns your limp body around and stares at your face. She looks so fucked out, all wet and glassy eyed, you have to moan.

“I didn’t know you could do that, my love,” she says. There’s amazement in her voice, and you feel almost embarrassed. The pillows are soaked, her face and hair, too. Fuck. You didn’t even know you were a squirter.

“I didn’t know I could,” you answer truthfully, resting your head against her chest, listening to the melodic rhythm of her three hearts.

“I guess it’s a big man miracle,” she blurts out, making you laugh until your stomach hurts.

“A Christmas miracle, not a big man miracle,” you correct, your laughter making it hard for you to form words. When you calm down enough, you look up at her with soft eyes and ask: “Did you like your present?” There’s an edge of vulnerability in your voice.

She doesn’t disappoint, answering you with every ounce of sexiness she has. “Oh yes… I very much liked it. I’m going to get you doing that as soon as you recover,” she tells you, kissing your head and making you moan at the possibilities.

Best holidays ever.

[meazalykov]

yapper

barca femeni x reader

part one - part two here

summary: you always had something to say

warnings: angst, online hate

you've always been the one to fill the quiet. 

if the locker room was silent, you’d throw out a joke. sometimes so bad it would have everyone laughing just because of how ridiculous it was. your teammates loved you for it—or at least you thought they did. 

you didn’t want anyone to sit in nervous energy before a big game. you wanted everyone to feel at ease, to smile, to believe they could take on anything since this was literally barcelona– of course the best club in the world could handle anything. 

“why are you so loud?” mapi teased one day after you cracked a pun about her tattoos during a media day. 

you grinned at her. 

“because someone has to keep this team awake. what would you do without me? shit, i don’t know how you survived without me for long.”

“probably enjoy the peace and quiet,” she shot back, but the grin on her face told you otherwise. 

you knew mapi got all the credit for being the talker of the group, but you easily topped her in that department. kika often joked that you had a built-in microphone, always on and ready to broadcast. 

yet, despite all the jokes, you never felt like it was too much. not until recently. 

training sessions at barça were something you relished, even on your worst days. being surrounded by alexia, kika, and esmee—your closest friends on the team—always made it feel less like work. 

alexia was like a big sister, always ready to listen. kika was your partner-in-crime, teasing you relentlessly, but never crossing the line. esmee? she was your rock, her quiet presence balanced your constant energy, grounding you in ways you didn’t think anyone could. 

after a long training session one evening, you found yourself alone on the practice pitch. penalties were your weak spot, and you wanted to fix that. you lined up the ball, took a deep breath, and sent it toward the net. it hit the post.

“what are you doing here so late?” alexia’s voice startled you.

you jumped, clutching your chest dramatically. 

“you scared me! i could’ve died.”

she smirked, arms crossed as she walked closer. 

“you didn’t answer my question.”

“what are you doing here?” you tried to deflect.

“i asked first.”

rolling your eyes, you motioned to the ball. 

“penalties. i suck at them.”

alexia raised a brow. 

“you’re not even one of the main takers.”

“exactly! that’s why i suck! i need to be better in case i ever have to take one, you know what if you frido or ewa are not available?” you rambled, launching into an explanation of all the ways penalties terrified you. 

alexia didn’t interrupt, just watched you with that calm, almost maternal expression she always had. 

“you’re overthinking it,” she finally said, cutting through your spiral. 

“just keep practicing. you’ll be fine.”

her reassurance helped more than you wanted to admit. alexia had that effect on people, like she could carry all your worries on her shoulders and not even flinch. 

a few days later, you stopped by esmee’s apartment, where she was curled up on the couch with her girlfriend, dani. the sight of them together tugged at something in your chest, a reminder of what you used to have with emily. 

“finally over her,” you announced as you plopped down beside them, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl on esmee’s lap. 

“who?” danielle asked, clearly out of the loop. 

“emily,” esmee filled in. “her ex.”

“oh, good for you,” danielle said with a smile through her dutch accent. 

“it’s about time, right?”

you laughed, nodding. 

“yeah, it only took me almost a year.”

however, later that week, you saw something that made your chest tighten all over again. scrolling through instagram, you stumbled upon a photo of emily with another girl, their smiles wide and carefree in north london. 

it shouldn’t have mattered. you were over the woman three years your senior. however, it stung in a way you didn’t expect. 

then came the champions league quarterfinal against bayern munich. the mistake was small—a misplaced pass, a missed mark—but pernille made you pay for it with a screamer that tied the game. 

1-1. 

after the game, you did your best to shake it off, smiling for the cameras, joking with alexia and frido. you thought you’d done well hiding your disappointment. 

the internet didn’t let it slide. 

“y/n talks too much. maybe she should focus on her game instead.”

“doesn’t she get tired of hearing her own voice?”

“the team probably wishes she’d shut up for once.”

the comments were harsh, cruel, and loud in your mind. you tried to brush them off, but the words stuck, clinging to you like thorns. 

the next day at training, you were different. quieter. focused. when kika asked if you were okay, you only nodded, too afraid that anything you said might annoy someone. 

��you sure?” she pressed.

you nodded again, forcing a small smile. 

“weird,” she muttered under her breath, walking away. 

alexia and aitana exchanged glances, both noticing the shift. esmee tried to pull you into a conversation during a water break, but you only offered short replies, your usual energy gone. 

that night in the locker room, after everyone else had left, you stayed behind, the weight of it all finally crashing down on you. in the showers, the tears came hard and fast, your shoulders shaking as you tried to keep quiet. 

though the locker room echoed, and when you emerged, changed and ready to leave, alexia, kika, esmee, and ellie were waiting for you. 

“we heard you crying,” kika said softly, her eyes full of concern. 

“what’s going on?”

you hesitated, swallowing hard. 

“nothing.”

“don’t lie,” alexia said, her voice gentle but firm. 

“i don’t…” you trailed off, taking a deep breath. 

“i don’t want to annoy you guys.”

they all looked at you like you’d grown a second head. 

“annoy us?” esmee asked, incredulous. 

“i talk too much. i saw what people were saying online, and… maybe they’re right.”

“y/n,” alexia started, stepping closer. 

“we love you. all of us. you make this team better, not worse.”

“you think we don’t look forward to hearing your ridiculous jokes every day?” kika added, her tone light but sincere. 

“you’re the reason we laugh half the time.”

“is that mistake against bayern bothering you?” ellie chimed in. “it happens to everyone. it doesn’t define you.”

their words broke through the wall you’d built, and before you knew it, they were pulling you into a group hug. 

“promise us you won’t let those comments get to you again,” alexia said, her hand on your shoulder. 

you nodded, sniffling. 

“i promise.”

“good,” kika said, grinning. 

“now, what were you going to say about the athletic club match?”

and just like that, you found yourself rambling again. they listened, laughing and teasing you like always, reminding you that this was where you belonged. 

part two here

[surielstea]

“I could take you”

Pairing: Acotar men x Fem!Reader (separately)

Summary: Reader teases her mate, saying she could take them in a fight, or in other places.

Warnings: All fluff, suggestive

Rhysand

"I could take you," I surmise aloud. My mate, who was trying to sleep peeked one eye open.

"We just finished, I'm not one to complain but aren't you tired?" He grumbled and I giggled.

"Not sex, I could take you in a fight dummy," I punch his shoulder and his brows rise.

"Oh really?" He drags out, arm wrapping tighter around my torso, pulling me into his chest as darkness swarms the room. "Don't make me mist you," He mumbled tiredly into my neck and I rolled my eyes.

"I'm serious, I could," I urge. "I know just how I'd do it too," I trail my fingertips up his bare chest.

"You think about killing me often?" He presumes and I roll my eyes.

"I'm just saying, it'd be easy," I tease.

"Murder me in your dreams, you fiend," He huffed, stuffing his face into my breasts without thought.

"Only kidding Rhys, I'd never harm you," I reassure. "But I could," I add and he smiles against my chest at the absurdity of this mindless conversation.

Cassian

"I could take you," I cross my arms over my chest, sizing up my mate with narrowed eyes. The shirtless male looked at me with an arched brow while he drank deeply from his water. I had been watching him train for hours now, so long that it felt as if I had every one of his moves and skills memorized.

"You think so?" He challenges and I nod with a beaming grin, taking a step closer and staring up at him entirely innocent.

"I know so," I shrug. His smile only widens.

"I guarantee I could have you on your knees within seconds," He leans dauntingly close but I don't falter, keep my unwavering ground.

"Whatever you say, sweetheart," I rise onto my toes and peck his lips. He seemed entirely thrown off by the mix of my kiss and the nickname, and that fact alone made me one thousand percent sure I could throw him off his rhythm in combat too, he might've called it cheating but I saw it as a strategic advantage of sorts.

“You want to spar or would you prefer to take me in other ways?" He taunted and I'd be lying if I didn't want both, though I decided I wanted one a little more.

"What are you waiting for tough guy?" I backed up towards the mats with a prideful smirk that mirrored his.

Azriel

My mate had his head in my lap while he read some non-fiction I had no interest in, much preferring to run my hands through his curls and watch his tense features morph into those of relaxation. My thoughts wandered in the comfortable silence, it began by thinking of what he was reading about, then the fact that he was smart and strong, and then it spiraled from there.

"I think I could take you in a fight," I mumble and his eyes that had been running across his page froze, then flicked up to mine.

"What was that, my love?" He closed his book, pausing whatever page he was in the middle of in order to give me his full attention.

"I could take you," I repeat and he blinks, then, to my surprise, he nods.

"Probably," He hums, cracking his book back open and offering no explanation as to why he thinks so.

Azriel was a competitive male, even with me. So when he said such a thing I was thrown entirely off my train of thought. "Wait— you're serious?" My hands stop combing through his hair and his bottom lip juts out in the absence of the ministrations, a grown male, pouting.

"When am I not?" He hummed and I rolled my eyes. The answer to that was more often than he'd care to admit.

"Why do you think I can?" I ask.

He shrugs simply before saying, "You'd probably use your witchcraft on me.” His eyes were entirely genuine. I push his head off my lap with a faux look of anger. He came back to me with full force, arms reaching around me and pulling me into him, his head pressing in the junction between my neck and shoulder. "I'm not a witch," I huff and he only smiles against my skin.

"Maybe not, but your seductive powers work too well on me," He explains and I roll my eyes. The powers he was referring to included a lingerie set and a few keywords that had him doing laps.

"It's not hard when I've got you wrapped around my finger," I sing and he sighs contentedly, pulling me closer, seemingly happy with with that statement, like he would never try to change that fact. Even if it meant I could take him down on a sparring mat.

Eris Vanserra

Eris was baking. An odd sight to see for anyone else but for me, it was a simple Sunday morning. I drifted into the kitchen with a drunken smile on my face as I slung my arms around his torso and draped myself over him. "What's that grin for?" He glances over at me before continuing to read whatever recipe he was following.

"Just thinking," I hum with a dazed look. It was no secret that today had been the peak of my ovulation in my cycle, my need for him was all-consuming. Yet here he was, baking my favorite flavor pie. "I wanna take you," I huff into his shoulder and he chuckles.

He makes a real show of ignoring my pleas and instead answers with an amused tone, "In a fight?"

I scowl, my frown deepening as I stare up at him— but then he had me thinking about it. "Why not?" I shrug.

"You sure you can?" He tilts his head down at me demeaningly— gods, he knows this is torture.

"Fine, you're too smart for me to beat in a fight but I could take you to other places," I wrap my arms around his neck and he sloppily smiles. "You're plenty smart, my sweet," His hands come to my hips, and his touch alone relieved sacred parts of me. I shake my head in denial. "C'mon, I've got a few weak spots I’m sure you could figure it out," He reassures, his voice soft. I didn't want to think about fighting him, I never wanted to have to.

"I love you too much to fight with you," I shrug, lifting up and pecking his lips innocently, void of my earlier arousal.

"That," He whispers against my lips. "That was one of my weak spots," He murmurs and I smile.

"Can you fuck me now or is this pie still more important than your very pretty, very needy mate?" I ask impatiently and he shakes his head with a charming expression. "Very needy, indeed."

Lucien Vanserra

“I could take you, and I don’t mean in a fight,” I say, head propped up on my mate's shoulder, peering up at him from inches away while he focused on peeling a tangerine for me. He simply laughs when he notices I’m serious, lips curling into a delighted smile.

“What’s that even supposed to mean?” He mumbles and I flip over onto his lap, straddling his hips.

“I’ll let you figure that out,” I mumble with a shrug. He shakes his head, looking down at the fruit in his hand as he peels the rind.

“You’re ridiculous,” He mumbled under his breath and I grinned wildly.

“You love it,” I muse and he looks up to me, handing me the peeled orange, ready to be eaten.

“I do,” He confesses, and that look on his face makes my stomach blossom with warmth, overflowing with admiration and devotion.

I don’t know how to react, or what to do with all the love he gives me, so instead I say the first thing that comes to mind, “I could also take you in a fight, though.”

He leans closer with a teasing grin. “And why’s that sunshine?” He hums as I pop a slice of the tangerine into my mouth, the sweet taste of citrus making me smile.

“You wouldn’t be able to fight back,” I shrug and his brows crease in confusion.

“Cause I’d be too scared?” He presumes and I shake my head, swallowing my fruit.

“Because you love me,” I croon.

“Unfortunately,” He grumbles under his breath and my jaw drops in shock. “Lu!” I exclaim as I push his shoulders and he falls back into the couch.

“I’m only kidding sunshine, you know you’re all I’ve ever wanted,” He reassured with a lilt in his tone, making me roll my eyes.

“I’m seriously debating that fight right now,” I murmur and he smiles, hand coming to my cheek and pulling me into him.

“Such a drama queen,” He mumbles, pressing his mouth to mine before I can retort. I melt into him, hands coming to his cheeks with delicate touches, my thumb tracing the end of his scar. “I love you too much to fight back, too,” I admit, his smile only grows. “I know.”

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @cauldronboilme27 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @ireallywannasleep127 @cumuluscranium @adharanotfound @azrielsmate3 @aelincaddel @hiddlestonspassionsackx @dee-writes-smut @secretlyhers

Comment a “💙” to be added to the general tag list

Comment a “🖤” to be added to the Azriel tag list.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally getting help (pt 2)

This one actually is edited thanks to @basementqueercock! Thank you friend!

part 1 | Masterpost

-------

Vlad had been making a stink at the Gala about the Wayne brats taking his godson from him without his permission when the music suddenly cut out. Bruce Wayne himself stalked towards Vlad with an expression that was honestly a little intimidating, even if Vlad obviously wasn’t scared of such an empty headed pretty boy even if he was one of the richest and most influential people on the planet. He was Plasmius! He could take a rich pretty boy is he had to!

“Ah! Mr. Wayne, thank goodness! Your children have taken my Godson off somewhere! I’m sure it’s just a harmless prank but he’s a bit fragile and unpredictable so I really think that it would be best if-“

“Is he fragile and unpredictable because he’s pregnant and you knew?” Bruce asked low and dangerous. Silence spread out around them, even though there’s no way they could have heard they saw the look on Brucie’s face. He rarely got angry but when he did it was serious, when he did it usually meant someone had hurt a kid.

Vlad blanched for a moment, Danny had been so tight lipped about it, so unwilling to tell even those he trusted how did These people know?! “What? What on earth are you talking about? Of course he’s not pregnant, I mean he’s a boy!” Vlad huffed and Bruce’s jaw tightened even more somehow.

“He’s not leaving with you. Get out.” He said low and menacing, then raised his voice. “Sorry to cut the party short everyone but something has come up, a situation that really needs my attention so I’m going to have to put an end to the party early.”

“What do you mean!? He’s MY God son! MY heir! You can’t just keep him from me!” Vlad said, he knew that his eyes were starting to glow a little red but he couldn’t help it. “He’s MINE! Return him to me or you will regret it I swear!”

“See him out.” Bruce said dismissively to a handful of guards who had approached at the start of the commotion A lot of the socialites were already starting to see themselves out, now was not the time to argue, or even stick around when it looked like this might get physical.

“I will be back! I will be back with lawyers and police and the brat’s parents,” Vlad vowed but couldn’t risk fighting the guards any more than a usual old man would on the way out with so many eyes on him. Well he just needed to find a place alone. Then he could transform and come back, possess Bruce Wayne and make him do something heinous in public to ruin him for this.. this- this INDIGNITY!

-------

Bruce was having a hard time keeping his Batman expressions off his face as he saw that everyone was out of his house and he knew his children were having the same trouble. Dick looked like he was ready to bash someone’s head in and Steph wasn’t that much better. Damian was standing by the door, seeing everyone out with frosty politeness that no one would mistake as genuine. Bruce felt just a little bad, it wasn’t anyone’s fault what they had found tonight. No one else knew about the clearly abused teen they were currently harbouring, but none of the family could help it either. Bruce would send all the guests gift baskets once they could announce what was going on.

Alfred was on the phone with Bruce’s lawyers, sending them the mildly distorted audio from Danny’s earlier conversation with Cas and Dick, and the footage from Vlad Master’s outburst. That had the same sort of distortion over it too which was odd, he’d have to look into it. Cas had already informed him she thought Danny was a meta of some sort, maybe it was connected to that? Or maybe they were aliens? Though Danny being trans was currently the most plausible explanation for his pregnancy. They’d find out more later. What mattered was the footage of both of those would be enough for Bruce to get emergency custody while the family was investigated. 

Tim was with Danny in the room Alfred had fixed for him, helping him settle in and lending him some clothes. Tim was the closest to Danny’s age and also one of the calmer ones right now so he was in charge of trying to make Danny feel safe and comfortable while the family took up battle stations to deal with the legal and logistical elements of this.

Bruce made sure everyone was out, the perimeter was secure, and Oracle was at her computer watching the security feed for anything suspicious including the pattern of distortion Vlad and Danny seemed to emit. He wasn’t sure how paranoid he should be about all this, but he’d seen the way Vlad’s eyes sparked red when he was angry and Batman was sure he was a lot more dangerous then he first seemed. And not just in the way that he was apparently willing to impregnate a boy young enough to be his son.

Finally he couldn’t avoid going to check on Danny anymore. Not that he was Really avoiding it, just that he knew this was going to be an exhausting and difficult conversation and he needed to brace himself for it. With every step towards Danny’s new room he felt the weight gather on his shoulders of what this child must have been through.

He knocked, and let himself in. Immediately clocking the way Danny tensed at the sight of him. Of course a rich older man would set off his alarm bells. Bruce gave the softest smile he could and went to pull out the desk chair across from the bed Danny was sitting on, well out of arms reach so he wouldn’t seem like a threat as he sat down. He glanced at Tim who nodded and went and sat on the bed next to Danny. Solidarity, willing to stand up against Bruce if Danny needed it, safety.

“Hello Danny, it’s nice to meet you. My children told me a bit about.. your situation,” Bruce said with a small grimace. “Would you mind if I ask you some questions? I promise I won’t judge you whatever you say, and I promise I am on your side. No matter what I will try to keep you safe okay? Just tell me the truth, it’ll help me do what needs to be done.”

“Alright Mr. Wayne,” Danny said, though he was still wary.

“Thank you, please call me Bruce. So first, what’s your full name?” he asked deciding to start super easy.

“Daniel James Fenton,” Danny replied softly.

“Your parents names?”

“Doctors Madeline and Jack Fenton,” Huh the fact that he called his parents doctor like it was part of their name seemed to be significant though Bruce wasn’t sure exactly what it meant.

“How old are you?”

“I’m 16,” He said. A little older than he looked but still no where near old enough to have the weight of the world on his shoulders like he did.

“And you’re pregnant?” Bruce asked as gently as he could, Danny nodded. “And you’re sure?”

“Yes,” Danny said softly and Bruce nodded, licking his lips a little.

“Did you take a test then?” He asked and Danny grimaced making a so so motion.

“It’s not… that simple,” He said softly.

“Can you explain it to me please?” Bruce asked softly.

Danny took a deep breath and licked his lips, hesitating, opening his mouth to stat, hesitating again and biting his lip. Bruce stayed quiet as he watched the conflict on Danny’s face. “You work with the justice league right?” Danny asked suddenly which seemed like a bit of a non sequitur to Bruce but he needed. “A bunch of the members aren’t human right?” Ah, Bruce nodded again. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Of course I am Danny,” Bruce promised, soft and reassuring. “People don’t have to be human or from earth to be people. Whatever is going on with you you’re still a person, and a kid, and deserve to be protected.”

“Okay,” Danny said as he scrutinized Bruce’s body language for any sign that he was lying. “Okay. I’ve never been able to trust any adults with this shit but I can’t keep doing this on my own so okay. I’m not human, not fully anyway, not anymore. These are..” He touched his stomach. “Like if you did an ultrasound you wouldn’t see embryos more like… Hang on Here.”

Bruce blinked as Danny suddenly, reached Inside himself, and before he could panic Danny had pulled out a perfectly round object that filled his palm. It shimmered with light from within, cold and sparkling with stars. “Our kind is more energy and light then anything else. This is Us, the mind, heart, everything we are is stored in our core the rest is formed around that. I mean for most of my kind, I’m still half human.” Danny said before replacing the orb inside him. “I have two other little cores inside me right now, feeding on my energy to develop properly, you could see them on an Xray. I don’t know how long they’ll take honestly.” He sighed caressing his stomach again.

 “But I can feel them inside me, I can feel their worry when I’m scared, and their joy when I’m happy, and their love. They’re my babies.” He said with the softest most paternal smile on his lips. The bags under his eyes were awful, he was clearly exhausted and stressed, but his expression told Bruce Danny thought it was all going to be worth it for his children. It brought a lump to his throat he had to clear before he could speak again.

“Okay, do you have access to healthcare appropriate for your.. species?” He asked and Danny nodded. Though he was tight lipped still.

“There are protections for non-human species in America you know,” Tim said.

Bruce and Tim exchanged a confused look as Danny barked a laugh. “Not for MY kind, we were specifically excluded,” He said with a wry curl to his lips. “The shadow or echo left behind when a proper human dies, not sentient or sapient they say. Malicious and dangerous they say. To be captured or exterminated on sight. They would take me, experiment on me, probably put my babies in jars or something.”

Oh, oh fuck, he was shaking, eyes blank and glassy like he was heading towards a panic attack. “Danny! Danny look at me,” Bruce said as he leaned forward and Danny’s gaze flicked up to his face. “I don’t know who ‘they’ are but I promise I will do everything in my power to make sure they don’t get you. You’re clearly not what they say, and anyone who would hurt a child is not the good guy in this story.”

“Who are they?” Tim asked with an expression that promised swift and vicious retribution.

Danny took another deep breath. “The GIW, the Ghost Investigation Ward. They’re a government agency, they’ve been hunting in my hometown for a while. Early on we tried to call the Justice Legue, but I think they were jamming the lines or something,” Danny said looking down and biting his lip.

Fuck this poor kid really couldn’t catch a break! Bruce was sure that the ‘ghosts’ these idiots were hunting weren’t really anything of the sort, but he would look into this and see what he could find. Tim was clearly itching to as well bad he wasn’t willing to leave Danny alone with Bruce, good lad.

“And what about your parents? Do you think you could be safely returned to their home?” Bruce asked, as much as he wanted to keep Danny reunification was supposed to be the goal of fostering.

“No!” Danny nearly yelped sitting up straight. “No! They work for the GIW! They design most of their weapons. If they ever found I’d been contaminated- I don’t want to think the worst of them but even if they still recognized me as their son the babies-“ He cut off, wrapping both his arms around his stomach and curling in on himself.

“Okay, we’ll call child protective services, my lawyer, and the Justice League. We’ll get to the bottom of this,” Bruce promised Danny. “And you can stay here as long as you need to. Is there any other family you would want to go to?” Bruce asked, just to be sure, but he wasn’t surprised when Danny shook his head and grabbed a pillow to hug.

“And I know Oracle and Red Robin will be itching to find out more about this ‘government agency’,” Tim said. “I want to go tell them Danny, if Bruce and I go will you be okay on your own or do you want me to ask Cas to come stay with you?”

“Cas please? If she’s not busy?” Danny asked uncertainly and Tim nodded. Bruce was getting up before Danny spoke up again. “I have a sister, Jazz. She knows about me not being fully human, but not about the babies. She’s a good person, and she’s almost an adult. I don’t know, I just need you to know she’s good, and I don’t want to mess things up for her,” Danny said worriedly.

“Of course Danny, thanks for letting me know,” Bruce said with a smile already making plans to get her out as well. “We’ll let you know as soon as there are developments.” He promised before both he and Tim ducked out. They split up, Tim going to find Cas and ask her to go back to Danny before they reconvened in the bat cave, they had a lot of research to do.

next>

[twice-inamillion]

The Company 

Slave Contract

Smut and Angst (Slave contract, idol turned sex toy, accepting fate )

Chapter 18

3890 Words 

(Miyeon becomes the CEO’s newest assistant and gets trained in her new role. Four idols learn about the consequences of signing contracts without knowing what’s in them. Future sex toys?)

It’s been a few weeks of hard work with setting up the survival show. Luckily, my new assistant, Miyeon, has been a great stress reliever.

After that first night, she was sore for a few days, but you kept her busy in other ways. At first, she was hesitant, asking me if this was really something she had to do. You asked if she read over the contract and said she slightly did but mainly browsed through it when signing. 

“You should have a copy; look it over and ensure you know about your duties.” 

It took her a few hours to go through everything, and with your explanation, she realized her actual fate, “So I belong to you then?” 

“Pretty much.” 

“I read you can even breed me if you wanted to.” 

“I could, but we can put that on hold if you like. You only need to help me out with some things.” 

“Like what?”

“I also want to make your former group members into my toys.”

Miyeon’s eyes widened from your statement. She was just with them not too long ago, and now she’s being asked to betray them so you can use them for pleasure?

“What you need to do is tell me some things about them. If they sign a contract like yours, I’ll take some years off it.”

Miyeon hesitates and thinks for a while, knowing she can’t return if she does this. 

“So what’s it going to be?”

“Okay, what do you want to know?”

———

“Jieun set up a meeting with the four girls. I want to meet all of them.”

“Of course, I’ll tell them to come later today.”

All the information Miyeon shared about her former members helped you set the perfect conditions for today’s meeting. You’ve always had a dream to claim a whole group for yourself. You know that you’ll have a set of four toys to play with at the end of the day.

It’s your last meeting of the day. Jieun is talking to Jennie and her group mates about the meeting and its possible lasting effects.

Jieun looks at her device and sees your message about letting them in.

“The CEO is ready for you.” She opens the door, and they walk in. 

“Oppa, you’re here to see the CEO?” says Lisa.

“No.”

Rose then speaks up, “He’s the CEO.”

“No, he’s Oppa; he helped us with moving in. A CEO wouldn’t do that,” said Lisa.

Lisa looks at you with an innocent face, waiting for your reply. “Rose is right; I’m the CEO of the company.”

“But we hung out together,” whined Lisa.

“Lisa, he might have his reasons,” replies Jennie

“Jennie is right; I do have my reasons. I aim to scout for talent and potential and put them into a group. I want to create an international girl group. As CEO, I wouldn’t have the opportunity to do that, but as a staff member, I’m about to see someone’s true personality. I want to debut you four as a girl group really soon.”

The four of them look at each other in excitement. Hearing about being a worldwide star seemed out of reach, but it is now possible. “Would you four be interested in the girl group I plan to create?” 

Lisa is the first to say yes, “Of course, oppa! I want to perform all over the world!”

Rose imagines herself on stage, singing music she composed to millions of fans worldwide, “I…I would love to as well.” 

Jisoo replied, “I, too, want to be in a group with them.” 

The three look at Jennie, who looks at you and replies, “Of course, I want to stay with my members forever!”

You then reply, “Great. I’ll make you four into worldwide superstars!” 

They giggle amongst and hold each other’s hands at the exciting news.“I plan on creating my personal label, and I’m interested in you four joining as the first group.” 

Jennie asks, “What’s the difference between it and the company?” 

“Priority and privileges.” 

Jisoo, confused, asks, “What do you mean by that?” 

“I’ll be personally working with you and providing you with all the best things. That includes clothes, jewelry, and deals with brands and magazines. I also plan to have a separate building for music recording, training, etc. You all will have access to the best, no compromises.”

The girls can't help but smile at the idea of having access to the best. Rosé's dream of being a musician is closer than ever; she must make this happen. “I want to do it.” 

“I assumed this was the case, so I prepared a contract for each of you as a group contract. I’ll talk to each of you individually since this will be an important decision.”

Jieun escorts all the members to individual rooms, so you can gather your thoughts before the meeting. After you’re ready, you call for the oldest, Jisoo. 

“Come have a seat, Jisoo.” 

Jisoo sits, looking nervous with the two of you alone.

“We went a bit over the group contract earlier, but I want to review your individual one this time. Is there anything you’d like to add?” 

Jisoo is already thankful for the opportunity to receive all the support from the company. She doesn’t want to overstep and get greedy, “No, I think I’m okay as it stands.”

”Are you sure? I remember reading in your profile that you wanted to be an actress. Am I right?”

Jisoo shyly tilts her head forward and replies, “Yes, I wrote that down when I joined as a trainee.”

”Are you still interested, or have you given up on that dream?”

There is a slight hesitation, “I want to sing and perform with my teammates, but I still want to be an actress.” 

There it is, the hook. “I can make it possible if you’re still interested.” Jisoo’s ears perk as she hears your words, “Really? How?”

The two of you talk for a while until you reach an agreement. Jisoo immediately signs the contract without a second thought after promising to support her as much as possible. Your only condition is for her to agree with your choices without a second thought. 

——

The next one you talked to was Jennie; she was much easier to talk to, and you could get straight to the point. She sat before you, “I’m going to be real with you; I want you and your members. Not just as artists but as my toys.” 

Jennie slides the contract to the side, “So this is what this contract is about… I can’t blame you; my members are cute. Is there someone you have in mind?”

“Rosé. She has an amazing voice, and her desperation to become a singer is such a turn-on.”

“She did say she’ll do something to become one, but the only issue is that she’s into girls, not guys.”

“Won't you think that would be better? Rosé tossing her interests to the side, that’s something I would love to see. I want to make her my plaything.”

Jennie bites her lip at the idea of her member being corrupted, “you know she’s a virgin too; well, everyone is except me, of course,” says Jennie while sticking her tongue out.

“You must be proud, huh.” 

It’s true; Jennie is proud of herself. With her by your side, she knows that her chances of being successful are much better with you. “Of course, I love being your toy babe. It’d be even better if you make all of us into your toys; just imagine playing with us whenever you want.”

”You know what a guy wants; you’re so bad.”

”I want to make sure you’re well taken care of.”

The two of you continue to talk; she even provides some ways to make the girls agree. 

———-

After Jennie, the next one was Rosé; she sat in front of you and asked, “Were you serious about introducing us to the international market?”

”Of course, with your talent, I know you all can succeed. I mean, with your voice, it's a guarantee.”

You see the sparkle in Rosé’s eyes; her dream of becoming a singer is closer than ever. “So, where do I sign?”

You pull out the contract, “This right here is your individual contract. It states the expectations from both parties, which is the label and yourself. Read it over, and if you want to add anything, let me know.” 

Like her members before her, she just skims through the contract and asks, “Would it be possible to invite my parents and sister for my debut?”

”Of course, they are more than welcome to visit you. If you want, I can fly them over. I remember you mentioning that your sister is pursuing law, right?”

”Yeah, she’s still in college and looking to intern at a firm in Australia. You know that she’s been so supportive of me becoming an idol that I really want her to see my debut.”

”If that’s the case, then I promise you to make sure your whole family sees you on your special day.” 

“I promise that you won’t be disappointed; I’ll make sure that our group becomes the best group,” as she picks up the pen, singing her contract. 

———

Lisa, the maknae of the group, was the last member you had to meet. It didn’t take much convincing and only asked to be given the creative freedom to make choreographies and a space to dance. 

“You really got us, oppa. Or should I call you CEO-nim?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I’ll call you oppa.” 

“I’d like that.”

She smiles and asks, “Where do I sign?”

———

It’s been a few weeks since the members signed their individual contracts. It didn’t take long for them to see the immediate effect, such as a new apartment with rooms of their own, access to the new building, and other perks.

“Unnie, congrats on your internship!”

“Thanks, it all happened so suddenly. I can’t wait to spend some time with you.”

“When do you fly in?”

“In a few weeks, they even gave me an apartment and are paying for my accommodations.” 

“Really? That’s great. What firm are you working with?”

“That’s the funny part. I’ll be doing my internship through the Samsung group but will be in one of their subdivisions.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I got an email saying that they were looking for great talent and received a recommendation. I recently finished the acceptance process and will be signing the contract. The best part is that if they like me, they might offer me a job and pay for law school. I’m so excited, Rosie!”

Rose is more than happy to hear the good news from her sister. She’s been so supportive of her dream to become a lawyer; now it’s her time to cheer for her. The only thing is that she can’t shake off a feeling that something isn’t right, but she quickly puts it to the side and continues her talk with Alice.

——-

“Hello, mom, how is everything back home?”

“Everything is wonderful, Lisa. We have had some good news recently.”

“Really? What is it?”

“Remember how your father was thinking about expanding and was looking for investors for his restaurant?”

”Yeah, I do. He wanted to open up a new place, but it was expensive if he wanted to do it in the middle of the city.”

”Well, your dad found an investor. They want to invest in not only one restaurant but probably two or more. They want to remodel this one and expand the size. Your dad is so happy.”

”I’m so happy for him. He’s been working so hard these past few years.”

”What about you, sweetheart?”

”Good, I think coming to Korea was a great choice. I can’t tell you much right now, but I’m happy where I am. My group members make me feel at home.” 

————

All the members gather in your office, the four of them excited for the weekend to begin. 

“How are you four doing?”

Jennie responds, “Great, we have had a free day today, so we’ve been resting after a busy schedule.”

”Oh, I’m sorry for interrupting you all during your day off.”

The members nod, “It’s okay; we still have Saturday and Sunday off. You must have called us to say something important,” says Jisoo. 

“Yes, I wanted to ask how you four are adjusting to your new life?”

Rosé responds, “I love the recording and music room. I’ve spent most of my time there.”

”For me, it’s the practice studio; it’s so nice and spacious, I love it,” says Lisa.

”What about you two?”

Jennie responds, ”Jisoo and I like our new apartment. It’s nice to have our own space.”

Jisoo nods, “I agree with Jennie; we like the new apartment. Thank you so much.” The four of them slightly bow, thanking you for their new perks. 

“That’s great. I want to make sure that my future worldstars are given the best. Since you have tasted a bit of what I’m giving you, I think it's time for you to return the favor.”

The members were surprised by your comment and asked, “What do you mean?”

“The favors, remember. It’s in the contract you all signed.” 

Rosé responds, “I don’t remember seeing it.”

Knowing this was bound to happen, you pulled out a copy of their contract. You flip through the numerous pages until you reach the section you want to show them. “This is the part. It clearly states that you all are required to provide me with services on a regular basis in return for the perks you receive.” 

Rosé, shocked, says, “What kind of favors?”

With a straight face, you reply, “sexual favors, of course.” 

Rosé, Jisoo, and Lisa look shocked at your comment; Rosé stands up and tries to leave when Jennie grabs her hand, stopping her. “Don’t.” 

Rosé looks at Jennie in a serious expression and takes a seat. “Why didn’t you say anything before our contract signing?”

“I told you to check multiple times. You’re all adults.” 

Jisoo asks, “Is it possible to remove that part out?” 

“It’s possible, but that would mean you are breaking your contract.”

Rosé then asks, “Is that going to cost a lot?” 

“In simple terms, yes. The cost of a breach in the contract is a lot, plus the cost of room and board, food, training, and other expenses can be in the billions of won.”

They all look at each other, trying to figure out what to do. They don’t want to give their bodies as payment; it seems so wrong, but the cost of paying large amounts of money also seems too much.

“What if we can pay you some other way?” says Lisa.

“Listen, I’m going to be frank with you all. I want you four, so I’m going to give you an hour to think about it. I’ll step out and come back, so expect an answer.” 

You stand from your chair and begin to walk towards the door, “Just remember that this will have a great impact on both your personal and professional life,” you say before exiting.

The four of them finally get a sign of relief with you gone. They stay silent, taking in what just happened a few moments ago. 

Jennie breaks the silence, “What do you all plan on doing?” 

No one answers; instead, Jisoo stands up and looks around your desk for anything that can help them. She moves the mouse off your computer, causing it to turn on. She sees a folder with the initials of each member, “Girls, come here.” The members stand up and circle around the computer. Jennie grabs the mouse and clicks on the folder with her name to see basic information and a copy of your contract. “Nothing helpful.” 

Suddenly, something catches Rosé's attention when she notices a fold named “Alice.” She grabs the mouse from Jennie and clicks on it. There are multiple files, but a video recording gets her attention. She clicks on the recording, and the face of her video pops out. “Hello, my name is Alice Park. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to intern at your company. You’re the biggest employer in Korea, and interning at your company is a dream come true. Pursuing law has been a passion of mine since I was young, so I will do my best to meet your expectations. Thank you so much, and hope to see you real soon.”

Rosé can’t believe it, Alice’s employer is you? Many things run through her mind to the point it’s hurting. “Did he plan everything out? What should I do? Should I tell Alice?”

Jennie and Jisoo notice Rosè’s sister in the video and try to ask her what’s going on. Instead, Rosè stays silent, gathering her thoughts and what she should do. “Rosè, what’s going on?”

Lisa continued searching when she found a file named “Restaurant Investments.” She clicks on it and sees her dad’s picture and other documents that mention investing in his business. “What’s going on?” She sees a brief interview that mentions his reason for doing what he does. He responds that he loves the expression his family makes when they taste his food, especially his daughter. However, since she was young, she would love his food which is one of the reasons he wants to do his best. “My daughter is trying her best to make her dreams come true, as an old man I should also do something that my daughter should be proud of.”

Lisa doesn’t have to think twice, she knows what she has to do. “I’m going to make sure his dreams come true no matter what.”

An hour passes by, the four of them are sitting in the chairs as you enter the room on the dot. Rosè and Lisa look at you with an intense expression while Jisoo holds both their hands. Jennie, who is sitting in the back looks at you with a slight grin but quickly hides it when you sit on your chair. 

“I gave you four an hour. What are your answers?”

There is a slight hesitation as the four look at each other, thinking on what to say. Suddenly, Lisa raises her hand and says, “I’ll do whatever you want.”

The rest of her members' eyes widened as the maknae of the group was the first to respond. You can’t stop yourself from smiling, “Good choice.”

You look at the other three and say, “Lisa seems to have more conviction than anyone else in the group.” You look in Jisoo’s direction, “Jisoo, I assumed you would be the first to say something, but I guess Lisa, the youngest out of your four, has more guts.” 

Jisoo clenches her fist, but she’s scared. There is no way she couldn’t be. “What about you Jennie?”

She lifts her head, “So you’ll keep your promise and make me known worldwide?”

”Yes, there wouldn’t be anywhere in the world that won’t know your name.”

’Okay, I’ll do it too. I’ll do whatever you want, even be your personal toy.”

Jisoo lifts her head, “Jennie…” Her younger members are much braver than her. She tells herself that she needs to be the one to protect them, but instead they’re taking the reins of their future. She makes up her mind, “I…I’ll do it too.”

”Great. Three out of four.” You look at Rosé who’s head is still down, debating about making the right choice. Her answer will determine not only her future but her sister’s as well. “Alright. If I do this, you promise not to do anything to Alice, right?”

”Yes, I promise.”

”Okay, I’ll do whatever you want; just keep your promise.” 

You smile, knowing that the four women in front of you have decided to submit to you. “I’ll make sure to try you four with a lot of care.” You stand up and check out their body as they stand. “I want to make sure that you're all serious about your choice. Undress yourself right here, I want to see what I’m going to be working with,”

Their eyes widened from your request; they didn’t think it was going to happen so soon. “Okay.” Jennie is the first one to undress by first removing her blouse, bra, pants, and underwear. 

“Good girl.”

”Thanks,” Jennie smiles from your compliment. 

The other two members follow, undressing themselves until they’re completely nude. Rosé is the last one to undress, she struggles to take her panties off with one arm covering her breast. 

“Take your arm off, I want to get a good look at you.” She slowly moves her arm and puts it to the side. “There, better?”

“Feisty one. If you don’t want to do this you can just leave.” Rosé pinches her arm, stopping herself from leaving. She wants to get out of there but knows she can’t. “No, I’ll behave.”

Satisfied with her answer, you continue to walk around them, inspecting their flawless body. Each one of them have small but perky tits, a flat stomach with a cute little ass. Lisa yelps when you touch her ass, while Jennie smiles. 

“Since you all have the weekend together, how about we have some fun.” The girls don’t have to guess what you’re trying to say, they know what type of “fun” you’re talking about. “Any volunteers?”

There’s a silence, no one moving or reacting in any way. “No volunteers? I guess I'll choose the one I want to have first.” You go around, tracing your finger against their back. You feel them tremble, not wanting to be the first to get chosen. 

“I really want to have all of you at once, but I want to give you some one-on-one attention. You’re all too good, I can't make up my mind.” 

You stare and them, looking up and down as you decide on who to fuck first. You see one of them grabbing onto their arm, looking nervous. You think to yourself it's always best to pick the one who has the most to lose and make them yours.

“Rosé, I want you tonight.” 

You exit the room, leaving her standing alone in shock. She trembles, realizing that she’s going to give her body to a man. She’s never once thought about having relationships with a male, not even in the slightest. 

———

Jieun walks into the room, “Rosé, dear. Why the sad expression?  You should be happy that he chose you.” 

There’s no response from Rosé, and instead frozen in thought. 

“Anyways, I’m here because I’m going to take all you with me to choose an outfit for when he asks for you. Just remember that the more effort you put in the better the outcome,” says Jieun in a serious voice.

As they enter the room they see multiple racks of lingerie. Rosé’s eyes go wide as she figures out what she is going to wear. 

[not-neverland06]

Hii ! I was hoping you could do Logan x Reader where all the teachers go to a club, and the Reader starts dancing with Storm and Jean while Logan is sitting on a couch, looking at her. They both have a crush on each other, but they don't know it, so when the Reader notices Logan staring at her, she gets shy and decides to go get a drink. When she got her drink, a guy starts flirting with her, and Logan obviously sees it. he gets jealous and walks up to the guy telling him to leave her alone. After they talk for a bit, the Reader accidentally confesses and Logan kisses her. this ends up in a private room with Logan fucking her as he always wanted. I know this is a long request and I'm sorry for that, bue I'm a writer myself, so I already had develop this bit of the story in my head. I completely understand if you don't want to do it. Hope you have an awesome day !!🤗❤️ Love your writing btw

a/n: I loved this prompt so much, did switch it up a bit bc I faced a bit of writer's block trying to flesh this out!! (and if I said I was listening to Thong Song while writing this, what then?)

18+ MDNI (fucking in a club bathroom, if that's not your thing, move on out)

Logan rummages around somewhere behind you, digging through the cabinets and moving everything around. The longer he searches, the more confused you grow. Your brows furrow as he cusses to himself.

There’s a low grunt of frustration as Logan rounds the kitchen island to glare at you. His face is screwed up in anger that seems to be misdirected towards you. You give him an awkward look, “Uh, hi?”

“He stole my booze,” he responds shortly and without explanation. You shake your head in confusion as the dots slowly connect. A small smile curls up on your lips but the glare he gives you makes it quickly drop. 

“Well, you know Charles' rules about it,” you tell him flippantly. Logan huffs and shoves away from the counter. He turns back to the fridge, destroying the organizational system as he continues his search. You roll your eyes, eating your food and watching him with a bored expression. 

Jean walks just as he really begins to work himself up. Her face pinches in distaste, catching on to the root of his anger quicker than you had. She looks at you with a small smirk. “Charles?”

“Yep," You answer, eyes still trained on him. He finally gives up the futile search, moving to stand beside you. Your eyes widen and you try not to physically react to his proximity. It’s an everyday struggle to remain calm around him. You’re desperately trying to keep a cool girl persona but you don’t think it's working. 

You’re pretty sure he sees right through your pathetic attempts at nonchalance every time you two are paired on a mission. Jean notices the look on your face and smiles slightly. “The rest of us are thinking of going out tonight.”

It's not an offer with her, more of a demand for the two least sociable members of the team. She gives you both expectant looks, ignoring the way you minutely shake your head in disapproval at the idea of going out.

“Pass,” Logan grunts. He steps away from you, making for the kitchen door. Jean quickly steps in front of him, firmly placing her hand on his chest and giving him a stern look.

You feel like you're missing something as they silently converse with tense looks and aggressive eye motions towards you. You might be worried they're flirting if it weren't for how fed up they both look right now with one another.

Your brows furrow in confusion and it only worsens when Logan lets out an aggrieved huff. “Fine. I’ll come.” He gives Jean a thin smile, “Happy?” 

She releases him and moves out of the way with a smug look. “Very. You’ll thank me, by the way.” She says to his retreating back, ignoring whatever he mutters back to her.

You’re completely lost about what that was but don't have much time to process it before Jean turns her attention to you. You already know what she wants and you immediately shake your head. “No, nope, you know I don’t like going out.” Jean smiles at you, but you know she’s just pretending to agree with you. 

“Jean,” your voice is sharp as you glare at her. “Not happening.”

You really regret ever befriending her. She’s either ridiculously persuasive or she's used her mind-warping abilities on you.

You're squished between Ororo and Logan on a sticky club booth. The smell of booze and cheap perfume soaks through your senses. You feel the beginnings of a headache forming as the music pounds.

While you love the feeling of Logan's biceps pushed up against you, you hate the club more. Storm catches the tense look on your face and sighs in disappointment.

"We need to get some more alcohol in you," she tells you with a faux sense of authority. "Come on," she nods her head and for a moment you think she's talking to you. But, with a move that seems practiced, Scott and Jean both follow her out of the booth and head toward the bar.

You watch them go with a suspicious glint in your eye, not trusting how smoothly they all just conveniently slipped away. That leaves just you and Logan behind at the table and you doubt that's coincidental.

They've been a little pushy about this crush of yours ever since they found out. They insist that he feels the same way about you as you do him. But you sincerely doubt he's fantasizing about going on romantic picnics with you and thinking of mushy dates.

He seems like the kind of guy to value silence over a girlfriend and you doubt you're his type. You don't tend to stray from the rules, ever. You don't think there's much you two have in common, as much as the others insist the opposite.

You give him a subtle look over. He hasn't moved away from you, which seems like a good sign. There's plenty of space for him to go now, but he keeps himself pressed up against you.

But, he's also not looking at you. His thumb is idly tracing the rim of his glass and he's refusing to take his eyes off the stained wood of the table. You know he can feel the way you're staring at him, but he's stubbornly refusing to acknowledge your presence. It almost feels petty and that makes you scoff and roll your eyes at the thought. You doubt Logan cares enough to be petty.

Practically in love with me, you think sarcastically. 

You know your friends are taking longer than necessary at the bar, trying to give the two of you some privacy. You feel like a high school girl, trying to get the cool guy to like her when he literally couldn’t give two shits. 

Your friends being pushy about the two of you really isn't helping anything. It only gives you false hope, and when he's inevitably a jerk again, it just makes all your little fantasies come crashing down.

You pick up your glass, tipping your head back and letting the alcohol warm you from the inside out. You've done your hair, spent forever doing your makeup, and you put on your favorite slutty dress. You don't feel like sitting here all night sulking alongside your unrequited crush.

More often than not, Logan is nothing more than a wet blanket. You've put in the effort and dragged yourself outside for once, you'd like to enjoy the experience. He could come find you when he felt like pulling the stick out of his ass. You slide out of the booth with a huff, uncaring as the hem of your dress rolls up your thighs. 

“Where’re you going?” Logan demands, voice gruff. Now he wants to pay attention, figures. 

You turn around and glare down at him. His eyes rove slowly over you, the way they should have been all night. His gaze is a physical caress and his stare lingers along your body. You can practically feel his touch on the curves of your hips. Slowly, he looks back up to meet your eye, something like a challenge on his face. 

You assess him, raising a brow and shrugging. “I’m gonna dance.” Something has possessed you or there’s a very talented telepath manipulating you right now. In a rare display of confidence you lean over the table, breasts pushed out towards him. “Wanna join me?” You ask, breath barely above a whisper. 

He scoffs and goes back to glaring at the table. Whatever confidence you had settles coldly in the bottom of your gut. “Not my thing, kid,” he gripes, every bit the crotchety old man. 

You roll your eyes, playing off the sting of rejection as an annoyance. “Of course, you’re not. You’re not having fun unless everyone else is miserable,” you snap. His eyes shoot up to meet yours, something like shock playing on his face. 

You don’t let him respond, already turning on your heel and walking off. As much as you like Logan, sometimes this attitude of his becomes tiring. What’s wrong with wanting to have fun for a night?

You’re not usually a huge fan of clubs. But when you’re out with your friends, you’re not going to actively ruin their night. As rude as that was, it’s right. He’s the “cool” kid in high school who thought everything was lame and never wanted to enjoy anything. 

So, what? You like to get a little drunk and sloppy sometimes, maybe if he ever tried it he might be less miserable. You head towards the bar, spotting Ororo’s hair easily through the crowd. You slide behind her, slipping your arm over her shoulder, “Hey pretty,” you whisper in her ear, laughing as she jumps. 

She turns and glares at you, swatting at your shoulder. “You’re lucky I didn’t hurt you.”

“Ooh, save it for later.” She rolls her eyes and passes you a shot. You take it with a smile, wincing at the burn of the tequila. “You wanna dance?” You have to shout to be heard over the music but you know she hears you when her eyes widen in surprise. 

She glances behind you and you don’t have to look to know Logan is glaring daggers at your back. You can feel him and it's pissing you off. “What happened?” You know she can tell something is up, you’re never this outgoing when you go out. But you don’t want to talk about finally coming to terms with the fact that you and Logan aren’t going to work out. 

Instead, you hold your hand out and wink. “Wanna dance or not?” She laughs a little, slipping her palm into yours and letting you drag her out onto the dance floor. It’s been a while since you’ve actually been sober dancing. You usually like to be near blackout drunk, but you just don’t have the energy for that tonight. 

Ororo is a little tipsier than you, clearly having been drinking while she was waiting at the bar. Her inhibitions are looser and she’s giggling as you move your hips against hers. Neither of you is dancing to impress, you’re messily moving around each other to the beat of the music. You don’t pay attention to the people around you, just having fun by yourselves. 

Ororo takes your hand, spinning you a little and pulling you back into her arms. You laugh, swaying your hips to the same rhythm she is, chests pressed tightly together while you smile at each other. 

She only lasts a few songs before she pulls back. “I need a drink,” she yells before stumbling back towards the bar. You feel yourself deflate, not sure what to do with yourself now that your favorite dancing partner has ditched you. 

You look through the mass of grinding bodies and try and spot your table. You can’t see much through the brightly colored lights spinning all around you. Everything’s a little disorienting and the shots you’ve had aren’t helping. 

Someone’s hand slips around your waist, “Your friend left you all alone?” Normally, you’d push whoever it was off and tell them to back off. But he’s got an attractive voice and you can feel how fit he is against your back. 

“You gonna keep me company?” You tease, voice a low purr as you push back against him. Your hands drift down to his arms, pulling them a little tighter around your waist. He chuckles, the noise reverberating through your back. 

You barely even get a chance to dance before your back is cold and you can feel his arms forcibly ripped off you. It doesn’t take much digging to find the culprit. Logan is behind you, hand fisted in the guy’s collar, “Why don’t you back off, bub?” He shoves him back and you roll your eyes as the guy scrambles off. 

“What the hell was that?” You demand arms crossed as you glare at Logan. 

He turns around and you’re surprised at the intensity of his glare. Something about it has you heated for an entirely different reason. He’s staring down at you like he’s gonna pounce on you. Your heart races, thighs clenching the longer he’s glowering at you. 

He shouldn’t be allowed to be so attractive when he’s pissed off. He reaches forward, grabbing your bicep and jerking you into his chest. He leans down until his lips are brushing against your ear. “You wanna dance, let’s dance, kid.”

“What-”

He cuts you off, flipping you around and pulling your back flush against him. You can feel just how much your little show with Storm got him going. You truly weren’t doing anything too alluring, but it seems to be enough for him. 

When you don’t move his hands drop to your hips and he grinds them down against him. “Logan,” you gasp his name out, caught off guard by how brazen he’s being in the middle of the club. There are people around you doing much worse but you’ve never known him to be this bold before. 

“You trying to make me jealous?” It’s hard to pay attention to what he’s saying, to focus on anything at all when his hand is drifting steadily down your body. The tips of his fingers just barely brush the skin of your thigh while his thumb lets the hem of your dress curl up. 

He flips you around, taking his hands off of you and instead tilting your chin up to face him. “I said,” he repeats in a condescending tone, “were you trying to make me jealous?” He doesn’t sound like he’s taking you seriously. Even if that was your intention, he thinks it’s just your petty way of lashing out at him for not dancing. 

You narrow your eyes at him and swat his hands off of you. “No. I wasn’t trying to make you jealous. I was trying to have some fun since you’re clearly not interested at all.”

That insufferable smirk of his doesn’t go away for a minute. If anything, he’s more incensed by your anger. “Who said I wasn’t interested?” Your lips part, another dumb little noise about to slip out when he dips down and stops you. 

He’s not trying to be subtle at all, gripping your dress and tugging you up against him while your lips lock. His tongue dips briefly into your mouth, savoring the taste of tequila on your gums before he pulls back. 

“I’m interested in you, kid, just not this shitty little club.” Your mouth is gaping and you feel like a fool, standing there and just staring at him. Your brain is completely scrambled, bits and pieces forming together to scream that he kissed you. Too many things are happening at once. The music is making the floor beneath you vibrate, liquor is warming you from the inside out and tilting you closer to him. And he kissed you. Your lips are still tingling from it. 

He chuckles a little under his breath, keeping you moving steadily against him. You’re simply something to be puppeteered by your desire for him. No thoughts linger inside your brain except his name. “You’re interested in me?” You repeat dumbly.

He leans down, tilting his lips closer towards your ear. “You can’t feel how much I want you?” One of your thighs is practically draped over his leg and he’s grinding his hips against you. The only thing you can feel is him. The smell of his cologne overpowers all the bodies surrounding you both, his voice drones out the loud music around you. You’re completely consumed by him. 

“Logan,” your tone is scandalized, you can’t believe he’s bold enough to have you nearly half-naked on his lap right now. Your butt is one wrong move away from being the club’s newest attraction. Yet, despite every protest lingering on your tongue, you can’t do anything except kiss him again. 

You don’t know if the moment is all one vivid wet dream your brain has conjured up at three am and you don’t feel like finding out. You want to enjoy being risky for once. You always play everything so safely. You don’t confess your feelings to Logan so you aren’t rejected. You never break the rules, you never act out. Just once, you want to do something bad and enjoy it. 

Your arms twine around his neck and you tilt your head to deepen the kiss further. You feel his reaction more than you hear it. A low grumble in his chest that has you practically vibrating with want. He pulls away from you first and it takes a moment for your eyes to flutter back open. 

When you finally do meet his gaze again, he’s got nothing but a smoldering desire in his eyes that makes you want to melt. He’s staring you down like you’re prey to be chased and consumed. “Can’t do this here,” he mutters. 

You’re almost shocked that he’s the first one to cut this off. You knew it was going to happen, you can’t exactly fuck in the middle of the dance floor. As much as you might want to. But you thought you would be the one to chicken out. 

He grabs your hand and shoves through the throng of grinding bodies. You grab the back of his shirt, stumbling after him and trying to stay close. “As much as I’d like to make that poor son of a bitch watch me fuck you, we need a little more privacy.”

It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about the man you’d danced with earlier. If you could even qualify that as dancing. He’d barely put his hand on your waist before Logan had appeared out of nowhere.

Your eyes narrow in suspicion and you glare at his back. How had he even gotten to you so quickly? He must have been watching you like a creep the whole time. You almost want to laugh at the thought. But you’re distracted by him nudging you through a door and locking it behind you. 

You glance around, spotting three sinks and some cracked mirrors. Toilet stalls linger to your right and your nose wrinkles in disgust. You turn around to complain but he’s already stalking toward you. Whatever sanitary complaints were lingering in the back of your throat are thrown out the sealed bathroom window. 

He buries his hands in your hair, ruining the meticulously placed style. You arch into his hold, opening your mouth for him to explore and gasping as his hand drops to your hips. He tugs you closer, ripping your dress up and yanking your underwear down in one smooth move. 

You barely have a second to process half of what’s happening before he’s got you bent over the sink. It’s all happening so fast, so many different desires of yours surging to the surface in one dingy club bathroom. 

You’re slick with months of fantasies and sleepless nights where not even your vibrator could curb your desire for him. You hear his belt clink behind you and your back arches like a cat in heat. You practically present yourself to him, so desperate to feel him that you don’t care how much of a slut you’re being. 

You know, if this was anyone else, you’d slap them for even suggesting the bathroom as the first place you have sex. But you’d have let Logan take you in the alley behind the club. You don’t care where you are, just so long as it's with him. And you know that desire runs a bit deeper than just a surface-level crush. 

He doesn’t give you much warning as he thrusts into you. The breath is practically punched out of you as he fills you. Everything about it feels right. You’re so full of him you feel like you could explode. You know it’s going to take a pathetically short time for you to come. It’s just too much, too fast, you’re so overwhelmed by him. 

“Oh god, Logan,” the porcelain creaks under your palms before you feel it splintering off into your skin. You can’t pay attention to it, though, jaw agape, capable of nothing more than slutty moans of his name. 

He’s relentless behind you, thrusting so hard inside you that it feels like a punishment. He fists his hand in your hair and forces you to look in the mirror. “Come on, want you to see how wrecked you are. What a fucking slut you’re being for me, letting me fuck you like this in this bar.”

Your mascara is completely ruined, streaked down your face with your lipstick smeared across your chin. You look like a fucking mess and you couldn’t care less. You feel yourself fluttering around him the tighter his grip on you is. His hand slips from your hair, latching around your neck and tugging you into his chest. 

He grips your chin and keeps your eyes on where the two of you are joined in the mirror. It only makes you clench tighter around him, watching as he moves in and out of you. You can see just how much of an effect you're having on him and it’s the biggest ego boost you’ve ever had in your life. 

You’ve reduced him to a mess in a dirty club bathroom, so desperate for you he couldn’t even wait to take you home. He tilts his hips, hitting the spot inside you that has your eyes nearly rolling in the back of your head.

You whisper his name in warning, letting go of the sink to clutch tightly at his wrist. He wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you secured against him. His hips start to stutter, losing some of their rhythm the tighter you are around him. The feeling builds in your fingers, tingles down to the tips of your toes, and explodes in a nearly blinding pleasure. His hips are still against you, warmth filling you a moment later. 

You would slump forward into the sink if it weren’t for his protective hold around your stomach. He keeps you tight against his chest for a minute, waiting for you to catch your bearings again. It takes an embarrassingly long time for the feeling in your legs to come back. You’ve never had such an intense experience like that. 

You don’t know if it's from the thrill of possibly getting caught or just because you were with him. You’ve longed and lusted after Logan for so long, and finally having the real thing is a bit of shock. Especially when he exceeded your fantasies, you didn’t even know that was possible.

He props you against the sink, tugging your dress down and pulling your underwear back up. You watch him with dulled interest, still reeling from what you’ve just done. You’ve never been so bold before, it almost feels liberating to just say ‘fuck it’ and do what you want. 

He pulls his own pants back up, fixing his belt and grabbing a wet paper towel for you. He’s silent as he wipes the mascara of your cheeks and you give him a questioning look. “You want the others to know what happened?”

You scoff and glance away from him, looking towards the door of the bathroom. “I’m sure they already know. Weren’t exactly subtle,” you tell him with a small smile. 

He smirks, tossing the towel away and walking back towards you. He keeps his arms on either side of you, bracketing you against the sink and grinning down at you. “No, we weren’t, were we?”

You shake your head silently, lips curled up in amusement. Your eyes briefly dart to his lips before meeting his eyes once more. He catches the look with a sly smile, dipping his head down and giving you a brief kiss. 

It’s short and sweet, more loving than the passionate, rip-my-clothes-off kisses from before. It feels like the type of kiss a married couple would share in the early morning when they only want to remind the other they love each other. Your proximity and the look he’s giving you feel more intimate than anything that just happened. 

“You really meant it?” You muse, voice barely above a whisper as you smile at him. 

“Meant what?” He mutters. 

“You like me,” you tease, entangling your hand with his and tugging him even closer to you. 

He gives you a confused look, glancing at the sink behind you and then back at your disheveled form. “Did I not make that clear enough, kid?”

You shake your head, “No, I think I might need another reminder,” you tell him. It takes a moment for your words to click for him. You can see when it does, he gives you a small smile and shakes his head with an aggrieved sigh like you’re bugging him. 

“Really making me work for it, huh?” You nod your head playfully, dragging him down towards you and bringing him into another kiss. You can deal with the line forming outside in a minute. You can push off your nosy friends’ questions for another day. Right now, it’s just you and him, finally doing what you’ve wanted since the moment you saw him. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp ♡ 

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte 

@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl @allllium @insomniachox @izbelross  ♡

[melzula]

I JUMPED WHEN I SAW REQUESTS OPEN

zuko unintentionally saying something he doesn’t mean to reader (ex. ur clingy/annoying) and makes the reader like kinda distant cus they don’t wanna be annoying or clingy yk? then he comforts them and says sorry and it’s very much a angst to fluff moment!

a/n: i love this trope

summary: your sudden disappearance makes zuko reevaluate his behavior

The apartment is empty when Zuko returns from the tea shop. His bones ache from standing all day and his mood is sour from having to serve customers, but it doesn’t distract him from the fact that something is missing. The place feels dull and lacks its normal warmth, and the change unnerves him.

“It seems y/n has not yet returned home,” Iroh observes as he flicks on the lamps to rid the room of darkness.

“Where did she go?” Zuko murmurs, doing his best to mask his anxiety over your absence. It’s not like you to stay out late, especially considering your apartment isn’t exactly in one of the safer rings of Ba Sing Se, and it worries him.

“I’m not sure. She seemed to be in a hurry when she left this morning,” the older man recounts as he scans the room to look for any trace of her left behind. “She didn’t even have her morning tea!”

“She could be in danger. I’m going to search for her.”

“Would you like me to come with you?”

“No, one of us should stay here in case she comes back,” Zuko states before making his way out the door. “I don’t want her to come home to any empty apartment.”

“Be sure to watch your temper if you do find her, nephew. Y/n is struggling to adjust to this new life just as you are, and it is important you are patient with her.”

The Prince says nothing in response to his Uncle’s words, but he immediately feels the guilt and shame that they bring him. His warning serves as a reminder for his recent behavior, and Zuko is then able to figure out why you were nowhere to be found.

You’d been eating breakfast together that morning before he had to leave for work, and despite his irritable mood you seemed to be eager to start the day.

“I was thinking of visiting the market place to buy fresh groceries for dinner tonight. Maybe I could stop by the tea shop and bring lunch for you and your Uncle,” you suggested with a pleasant smile.

“Sure,” Zuko had grumbled in response before forcing another spoonful of bland porridge down his throat.

“And after dinner we can visit the fountain,” you had said with an excited smile. “I’d love to take a walk through the city and get some fresh air. We hardly ever leave the apartment.”

“This city is nothing but dirt. There’s nothing to see out there.”

“Oh,” you had murmured, your features deflating slightly at his negative comments. “I suppose you’re right. Maybe we can just stay in and play a game of pai sho instead. I’m not exactly sure how to play, but I bet you could teach me! It could be fun!”

“Don’t you ever get tired of hearing yourself speak?!” Zuko had finally snapped harshly, his patience finally having been worn thin by your ceaseless suggestions. He didn’t want to take a stroll or play pai sho or have any sort of fun, and he didn’t understand why you couldn’t get that. “This isn’t some little vacation. I failed to capture the Avatar and now we’re stuck here, do you understand? Go play pai sho with someone else.”

The room had grown deathly silent after Zuko’s outburst, and he was too annoyed to notice the way you kept your gaze glued firmly to the table to avoid him see the welling tears in your eyes. Without another word, you quietly excused yourself from the table and made your way out the door without an explanation or a goodbye. Zuko hadn’t seen you since.

“I’m such a jerk,” he curses himself as he roams the streets in search of you. You’re not in the market place and you’re not by the fountain, so where could you be? He’s beginning to worry, his mind conjuring up multiple scenarios where you’re in trouble and he can’t help you. It’s pure torture.

A familiar laugh floats through the air, and Zuko feels the hairs on his neck stand up at the soothing melody. He’s quick to follow the sound, and as he shoves his way through the crowded streets he finds himself coming to a stop at a small noodle shop. The shop is practically tucked into a corner and isn’t much to look at, but the inside is full of life as patrons eat and converse and enjoy the camaraderie. At the heart of the restaurant sits a table full of people focused on the game of pai sho before them, and at the center of the table you sit with a large grin and a white lotus tile in your hand.

“I can’t believe I won!” You exclaim with an excited clap of your hands before looking to the older woman sitting next to you. “Thank you so much for teaching me how to play. This is the most fun I’ve had in months!”

“Y/n?” Zuko calls, garnering the attention of you and your new friends at the table. The airy laughter and pleasantries die down at the sight of him and the room is suddenly filled with tension.

“Oh, hello, Lee,” you greet dully, your cheerful demeanor immediately disappearing when you make eye contact with the boy.

“What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at home?”

“You said to go play pai sho with someone else, so that’s what I’m doing,” you state bluntly, and Zuko looks away guiltily after hearing his own words repeated back to him.

“Can you please just come home? You shouldn’t be out on the streets this late, it’s dangerous.”

“Why do you care?” You retort harshly. “I’m having fun here. These people actually want my company.”

“Y/n,” Zuko says with an irritated sigh, doing his best to remain patient. “Please. If not for me then for Uncle. He’s just as worried for your safety as I am.”

You hesitate at his words, but after a moment of contemplating you finally excuse yourself from the table. You bid your new friends goodbye and promise to return for another game sometime before following Zuko out of the restaurant and beginning your walk back home.

“The moon is out tonight,” he notes quietly in an attempt to make small talk, but you don’t reply. You keep your gaze forward and maintain a respectable distance from him as you walk. “Maybe I was wrong about this place.”

“Congratulations for figuring that out,” you retort sarcastically with a roll of your eyes. Having finally had enough, Zuko grabs your wrist to stop you in your tracks and force you to look at him.

“Y/n, please talk to me,” he begs earnestly. “I feel horrible for what I’ve done.”

“Good, you should feel bad!” You exclaim angrily, harshly yanking your hand away from him. “You’ve been nothing but a jerk since we got to Ba Sing Se, and now that I’m finally giving you the space that you wanted you come and ruin my fun!”

“I don’t want space from you,” he insists desperately. “I was being an idiot! Y/n, I didn’t mean any of what I said. I was just feeling irritable and I took it out on you, but that isn’t fair of me.”

“I’m not going to be your punching bag for the rest of my life, Zuko,” you relent quietly, blinking back the tears that begin to form. “All I want is to start over, but you’re making it so difficult. Why did we even come here?”

“We came here because I realized you deserved better than to constantly live your life on the run,” he admits softly, carefully taking your hands in his own. “I know I’ve failed to make you happy or treat you the way you deserve, but you have to know that I care for you. The best part of my day is coming home to you after work, and I never want you to feel like a burden because you aren’t.”

“Thank you for saying that,” you sniffle with a meek smile, and when he pulls you into his arms for a hug you don’t protest. “I know this has been hard for you, but you have to understand that all I want is to support you and make the change as easy as possible for you.”

“I know, and I’ll forever be grateful for everything you do,” Zuko says before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Now let’s get home before Uncle begins to worry.”

You say nothing more as he puts a protective arm around you and guides you through the streets of Ba Sing Se. The move has been tough, but he swears then that he’s going to do his best to improve his attitude and give you the support you need.

He has a lot of making up to do.

| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @lora21 @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy

| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303

[lightsoutnaway]

A Whole Family

PAIRING: Lando Norris x single mom! reader

WARNINGS: none!

SUMMARY: Lando meets your daughter when you need a last minute baby sitter.

WORD COUNT: 1,305

Your heart was going a mile a minute. You had just been called into work, but you were taking care of your daughter that day. You had called everyone you could think of. Your sister and mother were out of town together. Your usual babysitter already had a job for the day. Your best friend was at work as well. You had one last person to call, but you were worried about it.

You and Lando had been dating almost four months, but you still hadn’t introduced him to your daughter. It was a big step that you weren’t sure if you were ready for. You weren’t sure if Lando or your daughter were ready for it either, but it didn’t seem you had a choice anymore. You nervously pressed Lando’s contact and lifted the phone to your ear.

“Hey, baby,” Lando’s sweet voice came through the phone.

“Can I ask you for a really big favor?” You asked.

“Anything for you, love,” Lando assured you.

“Can you watch Ada?” You asked. “I know I’ve never introduced you before, but my boss just called and I have to go in and I can’t find anyone else,” you rambled. Lando’s heart was racing, but he wasn’t going to say ‘no’ to you.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Lando assured you. “Do you want me to come over there?” He asked.

“That would be great,” you said. “It would save me a little time.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Don’t stress, baby,” he said. Lando’s heart was still racing when he knocked on the door to your apartment. He wanted to be a part of your life. If your daughter didn’t like him, how was he supposed to make that happen? Most kids liked him, but your daughter was more important than any other kid had been to him and he hadn’t even met her.

“Thank you so much,” you said as you opened the door.

“It’s no problem,” Lando said.

“I really wish I could stay and talk for a few minutes, but I’m already late. She’s in her room. Just don’t let her make too big of a mess,” you said. You kissed his cheek before rushing past him. Lando stood dumbfounded in your entryway. He had taken care of kids before, but he was expecting a little more explanation before you left. He locked your door and then slowly walked towards your daughter’s bedroom. He had never been in it before, but he’d been to your apartment enough times to know where it was. He knocked on the doorframe when he got there.

“Hi, Ada,” Lando greeted. Your daughter turned to look over her shoulder. She was sitting at a small table with a toy tea set in front of her. She was wearing a pink princess dress and had a glittery plastic tiara on her head.

“You’re mommy’s boyfriend?” Ada asked. Lando chuckled.

“Yeah, my name’s Lando,” he said.

“Mommy told me to be good because she likes you,” Ada said. Lando blushed, your daughter oblivious to how much that meant to him.

“I like her too,” Lando replied.

“Do you want to have tea with me?” Ada asked. Lando nodded.

“I’d love to,” he answered. He started to move towards the other tiny chair beside Ada.

“Stop!” She shouted. Lando froze and looked at her. “It’s a princess tea party,” your daughter explained. “You have to be a princess first.” She got up and hurried towards one of the drawers in her room. She pulled out a set of play makeup, another crown and a pink feather boa. Without hesitation Lando took the crown and boa from her.

“Are you going to do my makeup? I don’t know how,” Lando said. Ada giggled with joy.

“Okay!” She agreed. Lando sat as still as he could while your daughter jabbed his face with her different brushes. She put cheap blue eyeshadow on him followed by glitter on his cheeks and messy red lipstick.

“Am I ready?” Lando asked. Ada nodded. She quickly put the makeup away and then sat back at the tea table.

“Now we can have tea,” she said. Lando chuckled. Your daughter was just as sassy as you were. Lando spent the next hour playing pretend with your daughter. He liked her. She was sweet, funny, and smart. She liked him right back. He went along with all her games and joked with her.

You walked into your daughter’s room to find Lando still sitting at the tea table and your daughter laughing loudly at something he said. Lando looked up at you.

“Hey,” he greeted. You broke out into a smile. He looked absolutely ridiculous but you loved it. Your daughter noticed you and jumped up, running towards you. She threw her arms around your legs and you leaned down to hug her as well.

“Hi, sweetheart,” you greeted. “Did you have fun with Lando?” You asked.

“Yes! Lando let me make him a princess and we had a princess tea party,” she told you.

“He looks very pretty, you did a good job,” you told her. Lando stood up.

“No, don’t leave!” Ada begged.

“It’s dinner time, Ada. I don’t know if Lando can stay,” you said.

“I can,” Lando told you. “If that’s okay.” You smiled at him.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” you replied. You looked at Ada. “Clean your toys up while Lando and I start dinner.” Lando followed you out to the kitchen. He grabbed your waist once you had gotten out of Ada’s view. You turned around and leaned back against the counter, pulling him with you as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Thank you, Lan,” you whispered.

“I’m actually Princess Lando now,” he replied with a smile. You laughed. “She’s just like you,” Lando added. You smiled.

“You like her?” You asked hopefully.

“She’s amazing,” Lando said.

“She definitely likes you,” you said as you wiped some lipstick off his chin. Lando looked at your lips, but hesitated. He didn’t want to make Ada uncomfortable. You noticed and leaned towards him, giving him a chaste kiss.

“Her dad’s picking her up after dinner,” you told Lando. “Maybe you could spend the night?” You offered.

“Of course,” he agreed. You looked at him thoughtfully.

“I’m taking Ada to the aquarium this weekend,” you said. “Would you like to come?” You asked nervously. Lando’s face brightened up.

“That sounds great. I can pick you guys up,” he said.

“Oh, she actually needs her car seat and I don’t have another,” you said.

“I’ll get one,” Lando told you.

“You would put a car seat in your Mclaren?” You questioned.

“Not the Mclaren,” he answered. “I’ll put it in the Mercedes. It’s safer and there’s more room in the back seat.” You grinned.

“You’re incredible,” you gushed.

“She’s incredible,” Lando replied.

“I’m glad you like her,” you admitted. “I didn’t really want to introduce you this way.”

“It wasn’t how I was expecting it, but I’ve been wanting to meet her. I know you were nervous about it,” Lando told you.

“She’s just a big part of my life and…you are too now,” you confessed.

“I was worried she wouldn’t like me,” Lando admitted.

“We were both worried for nothing I guess,” you said. Just then Ada bounded into the kitchen. She sat at the table and looked over at the two of you.

“I want spaghetti!” She exclaimed. Both of you laughed at her enthusiasm.

“Spaghetti it is,” you answered. Lando was already going for the pots to help. You smiled when you realized he already knew his way around your kitchen. He was a part of your home and your daughter adored him. You couldn’t stop your heart from bursting as you realized you had a whole family in your house again.

[yandere-daydreams]

Screening: Rosemary's Baby (1968)

Pairing: Yandere!Ieiri Shoko x Reader (JJK).

Runtime: 3.2k.

TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con (False Pretenses), Mentions of Pregnancy, Cheating (Reader is in an Established Relationship With Gojo), Fingering, Medical Malpractice, Manipulation, and Overstimulation. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

The examination table was cold as ice against your back.

She’d been nice enough to put down a sheet of sterilizing parchment, but not much more. You fidgeted with the hem of your skirt as you waited, too nervous to check your phone and risk seeing the newest addition to Satoru’s never-ending barrage of texts, too obedient to do anything other than stay where you were and stare blankly at the chipped, white tiles of her ceiling. That was what she told you to do – or, at least, what you thought she’d told you to do. It’d been difficult to understand her through her surgical mask, only pulled down slightly to accommodate the cigarette she was holding up to her lips, and come to think if it, she might’ve just meant to wait near the table, not strictly on—

The door opened, creating a break in the silence just long enough for you to pull yourself back together, and you bolted upright before your thoughts could start to slip, again – the stiff parchment crackling in protest underneath you. Your eyes found Shoko just as she slipped inside, letting the door fall shut on its own behind her.

Out of all of Satoru’s friends, Shoko had always been your favorite. There was obviously the gender bias (you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t have gravitated towards any woman in Satoru’s overall civil, but absolutely male-dominated social sphere), but even if that hadn’t been the case, you liked to think that you would’ve gotten along with Shoko, regardless. She was always so calm, always so level-headed, rarely smiling but slow to lose her temper, too. Being around her made you feel a little less like the awkward, oblivious non-sorcerer who’d stumbled into a world you still didn’t completely understand and a little more like someone who knew what they’d gotten into and who to rely on, when your own limited abilities fell short. You trusted Shoko, even if you’d only talked to her alone a handful of times. If you didn’t, you never would’ve come to her for something like this.

She stopped at the nearest counter, retrieving a pair of latex gloves from a nearly empty container, before coming to stand next to your table. You knew she’d been smoking, but the heavy scent of disinfect and rubbing alcohol smothered any traces of lingering smoke there might’ve been. You were thankful. You’d been sick with nerves for the better part of the past week, and you didn’t need another reason to feel like you were on the verge of throwing up.

(In the back of your skull, something cruel and vile whispered that there might be another explanation for your sudden bouts of nausea – something less ignorable than pure, ungrounded anxiety. You drowned it out before it could reach your conscious mind.)

Shoko broke the silence without prompting. You were grateful for that, too – you really didn’t have the courage to speak up first. “So,” she started, leaning on the edge of your metal slab. “You wanted to see me because of a… late period?”

Her mask hid most her expression, but you could make out the faint hint of a chuckle underneath her bedside manner. Your eyes fell into your lap. “A missed period,” you corrected. “I haven’t gotten it this month, either.”

She hummed, but didn’t respond. You sighed. Shoko was grounded, but she wasn’t kind. You should’ve known she wouldn’t make this easy for you.

“I’m worried I might be pregnant.”

To her credit, if she was surprised, it was impossible to tell. “Have you been taking your birth control?”

“Yeah, obviously, but I’m terrible about remembering condoms and Satoru never manages to pull out.” It felt strange to describe your sex life to your boyfriend’s closest friend, but you soldiered on. She was a medical professional, a doctor. Your preferred methods of protection (or lack thereof) couldn’t have been the worst thing she’d heard that day. “I’ve already taken a test, but I just want to make sure. Cursed energy is already so complicated, and I know Satoru exceeds a lot of expectations. I don’t know if he, like, has—”

This time, she cut you off with an airy, but blatant laugh. “You think he’s got magic sperm?”

“He fights invisible monsters and teleports,” you snapped, your anxiety turning into irritation in the blink of an eye. “I don’t think ‘magic sperm’ is that unrealistic!”

For a moment, she seemed to regard you – her dark eyes boring into your wrinkled clothes, your disheveled hair, the bags under your eyes nearly deep enough to match her own. Even if she didn’t understand why you were worried, she’d have to recognize that you were, in fact, worried. And, if she really was your friend, she’d at least offer to help.

You held your breath until finally, she cracked, straightening her back with and audible sigh. “And why, exactly, couldn’t you go to a standard obstetrician about this?”

“Because you’re the best doctor I know and I’d trust you with my life?”

“Try again.”

“Because I can’t afford the co-pay and if I use Satoru’s card, he’ll find out.” You deflated after finishing, crossing your arms over your chest. “I… I really just want to know. If it turns out I did have a reason to worry, I’ll figure out what to do next, but—” This time, your voice cut out all on its own. You forced yourself to swallow before going on. “I just want to know, first. Satoru doesn’t have to be involved.”

It was an awful position to put her in, you knew. For as much as you trusted her, she’d known Satoru for years. She had every right to go to him about this, even if you really, really wished she wouldn’t. She didn’t owe you anything, much less her help. Much less her silence.

But there was a reason you trusted Shoko, that you felt as unreasonable close to her as you did. Above her mask, you saw her eyes soften before they flickered away from you, landing on the counter she’d already visited. “Lay down and take off what you need to,” she said, her gruff professionalism back in full force. “It might not be conclusive, but the most I can do is a physical examination. It’s not much, but if you don’t trust a real test, it’s the best thing I can offer you.”

You couldn’t help yourself – nearly falling off the table as you pulled her into a bone-crushing, lung-flattening hug. “Ieiri, you’re the best,” you nearly shouted, your voice bouncing off the blank walls of her office. You moved to thank her again, and again, and again, but she pried you off of her before you had the chance, muttering a curt ‘you’re welcome’ before turning away to make her preparations and escape your unwanted gratitude. You managed to stop yourself from chasing after her, and yet, you were still smiling as you settled back onto the table.

Still, embarrassment quickly dampened the brighter edges of your relief as Shoko glanced over her shoulder. “Are you comfortable with undressing here, or would you rather leave the room?”

You blanched, and Shoko was kind enough not to laugh before going on. “You did know you were basically coming to be for a gynecological exam, right?”

“I mean, yes, but—” You hadn’t, but then again, you weren’t sure what else you’d expected. This made sense, even if it was leagues beyond anything you thought to brace yourself for. If Shoko thought it would help, then it’d help. “Do I get a gown, or…?”

Her eyes fell to your skirt, long enough to fall just an inch or so above your knee. “That won’t be necessary. Take off your panties and lay down – I’ll be over in a second.”

Your face burnt, but you nodded, and she turned away. Biting your inner cheek, you swung your legs over the side of the table and kicked off your shoes. Shoko pretended to be preoccupied while you shrugged your panties down your legs and, with no other option, stuffed them into the pocket of your jacket. It was awkward – lying down and spreading your legs with Shoko less than a full ten feet away. It was one thing to ask your acquaintance for medical advice, and another to let your boyfriend’s friend act as your pro-bono gynecologist.

You heard a few tools clatter onto a metal tray, the padded feet of a stool scrape across the tiled floor, and wordlessly, Shoko positioned herself at the foot of the examination table. “This should only take a few minutes,” she said, as her gloved fingers skirted along the inside of your knee, then your thigh, before reaching your pussy. Your labia, you corrected, internally. If she could be a professional about this, so could you. “Let me know if you feel any pain.”

You nodded, keeping your eyes focused intently on the ceiling above you. Even if you had looked down, your skirt would’ve blocked most of your view, which was how you preferred it. You couldn’t see Shoko, and hopefully, she couldn’t see the way you flinched as she spread a cold, pricking sort of lubricant over your entrance, as she eased two fingers into your otherwise dry cunt. You’d assumed she would use a tool, but then again, you couldn’t imagine what kind. And besides, you really shouldn’t have been questioning a doctor.

Shoko’s voice was gruff, distracted. “How’s that?”

“F-Fine,” you squeaked. “Please, do whatever you need to.”

“Satoru’s got you that worn down, huh?” She let out a breath of a laugh, but leaned in, easing her digits into until she was knuckle deep. Her fingers were thin, but long and graceful in a way that made them difficult to ignore when paired with the strange tactility of her gloves. Her free hand curled around your ankle, as if to hold you in place. “I’m going start the test. It might feel a little strange, so try not to move.”

She gave you a moment to brace yourself before spreading her fingers apart, inadvertently pressing against the sensitive walls of your pussy. On reflex, you snapped your thighs shut, but Shoko caught you by the knee before you could attempt to break her arm. “Easy there.” And then, as her thumb pushed slow circles into your skin, “Think you can hold these open for me?”

You didn’t try to say anything, but with more than a little effort, you spread your legs – planting your feet more firmly on either corner of the table. “Thatta girl,” Shoko muttered, seemingly more used to comforting scared pets than nervous patients. “Remember – we’re here because you wanted to be. If you want to back out, just say the word.”

You shook your head furiously, instinctually. You’d never do that to Shoko, and she seemed to know that – not waiting for verbal confirmation before starting to move. She seemed to need to stretch you open, judging by the repetitive, scissor-like motions of her fingers, the way she huffed in irritation as she slipped yet another digit inside of you. You knew it was inappropriate, but it would’ve been impossible to stop yourself from heating up, from squirming, from dampening around her in a way that you couldn’t entirely separate from arousal. You kept your hips still and dug your teeth into your bottom lip with enough force to break the skin (you would’ve rather died than moaned during a medical exam), but your cunt wasn’t as easily reigned in. It wasn’t long before a sickeningly slick clicking-type noise accompanied every little movement of her fingers. Hopefully, she’d just assume she’d used more lube than she’d meant to. You didn’t know what you’d do with yourself, if she didn’t.

“Like I said – it’s a quick procedure, not a comfortable one. Most patients have a difficult time staying still.” It was humiliating – how steady her voice was while you were falling apart, fighting just to keep yourself from bucking into a medical professional’s hand. It took everything you had not to whimper when the scissoring slowed, then stopped altogether, only to be immediately replaced by the awful, terrible, embarrassingly wonderful feeling of her fingers curling inside of you, grinding against the most vulnerable part of your cunt. “It’s important to be thorough, though. I’m sure you understand why this is necessary.”

She couldn’t have done it on purpose. Nothing about this could’ve ever been intentional, and yet, when her wrist slipped, the heel of her palm seemed to land perfectly onto your neglected clit. It wasn’t much, just the hint of stimulation, but it was enough for you to seize-up – your nails scrambling helplessly over smooth titanium as you came, silently, around her fingers. Shoko, ever the professional, didn’t so much as slow down.

She only hummed, keeping her hand where it was – her palm now grinding broad, harsh patterns into your clit. “Are you usually this easily stimulated?”

You opened your mouth, but all you could seem to choke out was a single, jagged whimper. Shoko clicked her tongue. “I’m sorry, I should’ve phrased that in a way you’d understand.” And then, as she spread her fingers apart cruelly, “Do you normally cum in less than a minute with Satoru?”

This time, a strangled cry was as much of an answer as you could’ve possibly given. You weren’t sure why she was asking, but… this wasn’t normal for you, was it? And now that she mentioned it, you did feel more stimulated than you should’ve during anything remotely medical. Your skin felt hotter, more sensitive where it’d come into contact with her lubricant, and it was getting hard to think, hard to justify not grinding into her hand as she curled and twisted her fingers inside of you. God. You knew you’d been a wreck, lately, but you never would’ve thought that it gotten this bad.

The nails of Shoko’s free hand bit into your ankle, and too strung-out to stop yourself, you let out a whine by way of protest. She chuckled, and suddenly, you were empty, left bucking your hips into vacant air as she drew back. “Poor thing,” she muttered, her sympathy tinged with a sardonic sort of condescension. “I’ve got one last test. Think you can bear with me?”

“Ye—Yes,” you chirped. At that point, it was meaningless – you would’ve agreed to anything so long as she was the one suggesting it. You’d shut your eyes at some point, but you could still hear Shoko’s footsteps, feel her standing above you as she positioned herself at your side. One gloved hand cupped your cheek while the other pressed something blunt and thick against your cunt and, with no warning other than a mumbled reminder to ‘breathe, pretty girl, breathe’, thrust it inside of you.

Her reminder, sadly, proved useless. The air hitched in your lungs as a ribbed shaft filled your overeager pussy, the object curved in a way that made it feel like it was pressing into every fucking part of you at the exact same fucking time. Your hands shot to Shoko’s wrist, searching for something more forgiving than cold metal to ground yourself with. You tried to pull yourself together, and you might’ve been able to if two distinct, silicone-wrapped prongs hadn’t slotted against your clit or, even more damningly, if whatever tool Shoko was using hadn’t started to shake.

Saying you came embarrassingly quickly would’ve been an understatement. There was no pretense of dignity, this time; just grit teeth and twitching legs and one long, miserable sob. Shoko nursed you through it, rocking her vibrating tool inside of you gently until your climax had died into total limpness and the occasional, unsteady gasp. The tool was drawn back, but Shoko’s hand lingered, her thumb tracing patterns into your cheek. “Such a good girl,” she mumbled, and you melted into her touch. “Feeling a little tired?”

It was sickeningly guilt-inducing, just how nice she was being to you after you’d done nothing but humiliate yourself in front of her. “A little,” you admitted, smiling sheepishly. Shoko smiled back. You couldn’t remember when she’d taken off her mask.

“Close your eyes and catch your breath. I’ll finish up while you get a little rest.”

It was all you could do to nod before slumping into yourself, your body going slack despite your best attempts to hold yourself up. Her reassurance was nice, but unnecessary.

In less than a full second, you were out like a light.

~

In Shoko’s defense, she did actually take the time to check. After you passed out, as delicate as Satoru had always bragged you were, she tested the blood sample taken prior to your “exam”. It took a total of three minutes, and left her with good news and bad news to deliver when you woke up.

The good news was, predictably, that you’d been right. You were pregnant. About a month along, in fact. Congratulations, mazel tov, etc.

The bad news was, of course, that you were pregnant, and that Satoru had finally managed to knock you up. Thoughts and prayers, get well soon, etc.

 From her make-shift desk on the far side of the room, she spared a glance to where you were still sleeping on her autopsy table. You’d rolled onto your side since she last checked on you, your pleated shirt bunching at your waist as you used your arms as a rudimentary pillow. It’d be a lie to say she didn’t understand why Satoru had gone so crazy about you so quickly. What you were – an ordinary human with enough cursed energy to see, but not act – was rare, your continuous ability to gloss over the uglier parts of their world in favor of perpetual, delusional optimism even more so. It’d be impressive, if she didn’t know it was going to get you fucked over eventually.

You were cute. It’s surprised her when she first met you in-person, when she first realized that.

It’d surprised her a little less when she realized that you even cuter mumbling gibberish as you came around her fingers.

Her eyes fell back to the phone in her hand. Her messages with Satoru were already open, what she’d been deliberating on telling him already typed out. She sighed, checked the picture she’d taken of you sprawled out on her table, three of her fingers buried in your cunt, and hit send.

[1 attachment]

your girlfriend has something to tell you.

sending a bill for my time btw.

Three dots appeared at the bottom of the screen, signaling that Satoru was typing a response, before disappearing just as quickly. He tried calling her a second later, and she muted her phone before tossing it half-heartedly in the nearest drawer and turning back to you. Judging by your durability (or lack thereof), she’d have a few more minutes before you woke up, and another half an hour before the aphrodisiac gel she’d used on you started to wear off. You’d likely want to rush home to Satoru, when you finally got your hard-earned results.

Again, Shoko sighed, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

It’d just be a waste not to have a little fun while she could, right?

[girlgenius1111]

You Come Back With Gravity

alexia and r have an argument. r misunderstands, and when alexia leaves to calm down, she thinks she's going for good. angst + fluff :)

-----

Alexia was big on communication, and she didn't like to fight. Neither did you, although your track record in past relationships may argue otherwise. That was more on your former partners, though, than it was on you. Not fighting was new for you. Alexia never yelled, and she insisted that the two of you talk about any issues that were going on calmly, and like adults. A voice had never been raised between the two of you, arguments never escalating to full blown shouting matches, mostly because of Alexia's insistence that they didn't.

Something about this argument, though, felt different. Alexia had proposed a few weeks ago, and, after having a bit too much to drink, you'd brought up something that had been nagging at the back of your mind for a while. Alexia had brushed it aside that night, and again and again since, until you practically forced her to talk about it. Normally, when you presented Alexia with an issue you had, she was quick to try to fix it. Your teammates often joked about the complete 180 Alexia did when she was around you, melting and agreeing to anything you asked of her. You were the same way for her, but it was more surprising that their normally very willful captain so easily did as you said.

If Alexia wouldn't budge on an issue, she normally had a reason, and you didn't require her to explain herself to you. This was different, though. You needed an explanation, before your mind continued to take off in the worst directions.

"Alexia, do you not see that this is important to me?"

"I do, amor, but there is no room for discussion. We are not going public with our relationship. It has stayed low key for this long, and I intend to keep it that way." Alexia was quickly losing her patience with you, and you could tell. Still, you persisted. 

'You won't even give me a reason, Ale! Is this what our relationship is going to be like for the rest of our lives? You make a decision that affects both of us, and I just have to live with it?" Your voice was slightly raised and you could tell Alexia was upset. You were pacing around the room, and she was sitting, completely still, on the couch. Alexia was never still. A part of her was always moving.

"I am not changing my mind on this, mi amor." Alexia told you calmly, although her jaw clenched tight when she finished speaking.

"Okay, well that's it. You don't care what I think. Whatever you say goes, is that it?" You were using anger to hide how terrified you were. There was really only one reason that you could think of to explain Alexia's complete refusal to be transparent about your relationship.

"You know that it is not."

"This is absurd, Ale, we can't even have a conversation without you-"

"¡Basta! Stop yelling, I do not want to talk anymore about this," Alexia shouted finally, rising to her feet.

"I am yelling because you are not listening to me,"

"You are not listening to me. No more of this, we can discuss it when we are both calmer."

"I don't want to push this aside again, I would like to resolve it now." You tried to calm yourself down slightly despite your words, drawing in a few deep breaths as you waited for your fiancée to respond.

"It is resolved. There is no discussion to be had. There is no other option; we are not going public. No."

You let out a humorless laugh, and Alexia's eyebrows shot up. She did not like to be laughed at.

"You aren't being fair, Alexia. I deserve an explanation for why you are so very ashamed of me, to the point you don't want anyone to know we are together."

Alexia rolled her eyes, not taking your statement seriously. She thought you were just being dramatic, there was no way you really believed that. You did believe it, though and Alexia's complete dismissal in the face of your admitted vulnerability made you furious.

"Jesus, Alexia. Fine. You get your way. As usual. Captain Alexia always gets what she wants." You yelled, throwing yourself down on the couch dramatically and burying your head in your hands. You didn't want to cry while you were fighting with her, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. You knew you weren't being fair, or particularly nice but Alexia had hurt your feelings and she didn't even seem to understand why.

It was dead silent for a full minute before Alexia let out a long, drawn out exhale, and spoke.

"You are being mean. I am going to go to Alba's."

Her words were stiff, clearly communicating how upset she was with you, and you whipped your head up to look at her, watching as she headed towards the door, grabbing her keys. She put her airpods in, but you didn't see her do so.

"Ale? Are you coming back?" You called, voice full of insecurity.

Alexia couldn't hear you, not with her music playing as loud as it was, and she walked out the door without acknowledging that you'd spoken.

You were frozen. This was what you always did; take a small fight and push it so far that the other person finally saw that you weren't worth the trouble. It hadn't happened with Alexia yet because you'd never fought with her. It wasn't enough that she didn't want anyone to know the two of you were together, you had to push her until she didn't want to be with you, period.

You were an over-thinker to your core, and you were convinced, absolutely, that you had just destroyed the most important relationship that you'd ever had. It was hard to breathe, hard to think, the suffocating weight of thinking that the woman you loved was not coming back taking over.

You weren't sure why you were surprised. People left, people always left. Why would this be any different? Alexia was the best person you'd ever known, and she deserved far better than what you could give her, even when you were at your best. Of course Alexia didn't want anyone to know that she was with you. Of course she didn't want you. You had only yourself to blame.

-----

While you sat alone in your apartment, spiraling, Alexia was driving not to her sisters, but to the beach. She needed some peace and quiet to think, which she surely would not find at Alba's.

She just needed to cool down. You were upset, she was upset, and continuing on like you had been would only lead you both to say things you didn't mean. She'd take an hour, calm down, and head home. Alexia had no idea that you had asked her a question before she'd left, had no idea that you were sitting at home, convinced she was done with you.

The longer she was gone, though, the more guilty she felt. She remembered the look on your face when you'd spoken:

"I deserve an explanation for why you are so very ashamed of me, to the point you don't want anyone to know we are together."

She thought you were just trying to make a point at the time, but as she got space from the fight, and from her own anger, she felt less sure about that judgment. You'd looked distraught when you said it. It would explain why you were so very upset with her reluctance to go public, why you were so very upset with her.

Alexia had watched many relationships fall apart once they hit the public eye; some of her own, and some of them, her friend's. She didn't want that. As long as you two kept this to yourselves, allowing your loved ones and teammates to know and no one else, the media couldn't destroy it. That was Alexia's biggest fear; losing you, and having no control over it.

Of course, you were sat at home, practically catatonic, at the thought that you had lost Alexia.

-----

Alexia didn't even make it an hour like she planned. She was parking in the driveway 44 minutes after she'd left, flowers next to her in the front seat, as she tried to figure out if she'd given you enough space to think. She determined that she had, mostly because she couldn't stand leaving things like this any longer, and she fixed her hair in the mirror, tucking the shorter pieces behind her ears in the way she knew you liked, before grabbing the flowers.

When she had left, it was still light out. It was dark, now, and Alexia was surprised when she opened the door and there was not a light on in the house. She panicked slightly, wondering if you'd left, before spotting your silhouette on the couch. Exactly where you'd been when she left. It looked like you hadn't moved, even an inch. The blonde slipped her shoes off, walking cautiously closer to you, flipping on the light.

You didn't make a move, giving her no indication that you knew she was there with you. Alexia could tell you were trembling, and every breath you drew in came with a small, pained whimper. Alexia was more than concerned, now. She dropped the flowers on the table, before crouching down in front of you.

"Mi amor?" She said softly, weary to touch you, not wanting to startle you.

"Hey, amor?" She spoke slightly louder this time. Still, you didn't even twitch. Tentatively, she reached her hand out, letting her hand wrap around your wrist. She was going to try to pull your hand away from your face, but you beat her to it, jumping a foot in the air at her touch, and scrambling backwards.

"It is me, amor, it is just me," Alexia reassured, throwing her hands up in the air, and not moving any closer.

"Ale?" You gasped, as if you couldn't believe that she was here in front of you. You were half convinced you were hallucinating. It felt like 2 minutes had passed, but also like it had been hours since she left.

"It is just me," Alexia repeated, taking a seat on the very edge of the couch. You were still shaking, and Alexia longed to bring you into her arms.

"What are you doing here?" You asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You came back. Why?"

"Why... why would I not come back? This is our home. Ours. Did you not want me here?" Alexia asked insecurely, entirely confused at your reaction. Your eyes were watery, and you bit your lip, shaking your head at her.

"No, I want you here, I... I asked if you were coming back. And you left without answering."

"Qué?" Alexia asked, looking genuinely confused. Alexia couldn't lie to you, and if she'd ignored something you'd said, she'd admit to it.

"Before you walked out the door, I asked if you were coming back." You explained further, although you were already relaxing slightly. Ale was here, she came back.

A look of realization dawned over your girlfriend's face. "I had my headphones in, amor, I did not hear you."

Now that Alexia could see where your mind had started to go, it wasn't hard to piece the rest of it together. It made sense, suddenly, why you were so upset. You'd thought Alexia had left you.

It was only seconds after that revelation that Alexia was reaching across the couch and pulling you into her arms; one wrapped tightly around your back, the other hand lacing through your hair and pushing your face into her neck. You clung tightly to her, melting into her touch.

"I would never leave you. Not today, not tomorrow. Not ever. I wanted to calm down, so we could have a conversation. I should have thought that through, bebé, I am so sorry."

You shook your head against her. "I shouldn't have overreacted, it was just that you were so upset, and we never fight. You're so good, Ale, it's like I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop, always waiting for you to realize that you can do better. I thought you had, I thought that's why you didn't want anyone to know about us."

Alexia shut her eyes tightly. You'd meant what you'd said earlier, then, and she'd completely dismissed it. She guided you away from her, just a bit, cradling your face in her hands. She brushed your hair back out of your face, pursing her lips as she tried to figure out what to say.

"It was not an overreaction. You thought I ignored you, you thought I was leaving. I know how nervous these things make you, mi amor, I should have been clearer."

"Amor, do you think that I want to keep our relationship private because I am ashamed of you?" When Alexia said the words, it felt ridiculous. You knew it was irrational to feel the way you felt, but at the same time… your fear was all encompassing. You tried to lean away from her, preserve some of your dignity even as more tears slid down your face, but Alexia wouldn't let you. "Hey, no. Tell me, por favor.” 

“You’re you Ale. And I’m just me. I would understand if you didn’t want people to know you were with me, you should be with someone better, prettier,-” 

“Stop.” Alexia said, shaking her head frantically. She looked physically pained at your words. “Stop. You are not allowed to talk about yourself like that. You are mí niña, mí niña perfecta. I am proud that you are mine, everyday. You are the best, you are the prettiest. You are all I need, te prometo que.” The blondes eyes were wide with a desperate need for you to believe her. You wanted to. 

“Then why, Ale? Why don’t you want people to know you’re with me?” You chewed on your bottom lip when Alexia didn’t answer right away, and her thumb reached over to lightly tap it. You released your lip, tightening your grip on your girlfriend, only growing more terrified for her answer as time passed. 

“You are so perfect.” Alexia started, giving you a stern look when you shook your head on instinct. “It’s so easy with you. So easy to love you, so easy to be with you. The media complicates everything, the fans. They would say horrible things to you and about you. As long as no one knows, I can keep you safe. I can keep you mine. Just mine.” 

“Alexia, I’m not worried about that.” You assured her. 

“You should be, mi amor, I am worried about it.” Alexia emphasized, and you only really realized the stress this worry was causing her at that moment. “It would not be the first time the media has ruined a relationship, and I do not think I could survive it if I lost you.” The blonde’s voice cracked at the end of her sentence, and suddenly, she wasn’t holding you anymore, you were holding her. Cradling her face in your hands as you insistently tried to get her watery, hazel eyes to meet yours. 

“Even if the media goes crazy, even if people say mean stuff. I’ll still want you, Ale. It won’t be fun but it’s worth it. If it’s for you? It’s worth it, it’ll always be worth it.” 

Alexia let out a sound that was halfway between a sob and a sigh of relief, burying her face in your neck. Her tears were wet against your skin, her breaths ragged and frantic. “Te amo,” she murmured. “You make me so happy, amor. If you are not worried about the media, then I will try not to be. If you want people to know, then we tell. Whatever you want, whatever you need. As long as you know that I love you, that you are perfect, that you are mine, forever. Para siempre.” 

Now you were crying, and she was still crying, as she gave you a very wet kiss, and it was entirely more emotional than either of you would have liked, but there was nothing to be done. The perfect relationship, you supposed, was one where you each thought the other to be perfect. Even if you didn’t see yourself that way, Alexia would always be there to convince you of your perfection, as you would for her.

-----

[lina-lovebug]

I'd Fight The Devil

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, FINALE

Background: The future heir of Hell is on the way! Alastor has his doubts about being a good father and Lucifer is losing his mind.

_ _ _

(Y/N) Morningstar is due any day now!

That dreaded due date was getting closer and closer and honestly, Alastor didn't know how to handle it.

Of course, he was happy when he found out that his beloved was pregnant. From what he knew, sinners couldn't reproduce! But from a brief (while crying) explanation from Lucifer, (Y/N) is extremely fertile and this could continue happening or just be a one time thing.

Honestly, it broke Alastor seeing her miserable. Her swollen hoofs, going days without sleep because of their spawn kicking up a storm, and not to mention the crying. It didn't bother him that she became much needier, as he was happy to give her all the hoof rubs and cravings she desired.

Alastor felt bad because he hears her confide in Charlie, "honestly, I'm not sure I want to do this again. It feels like my body doesn't belong to me."

He's heard that some pregnant women feel that way, but the way her voice broke when she said it.

He'd never touch her again if she asked.

"Need anything, mon cher?" Alastor asked as she waddled to the bathroom.

"No, but thank you," She smiled. He had been so attentive and it made this pregnancy a bit more enjoyable.

(Y/N) hated herself. Not because she hated their child, no, but because she hated how she felt. She hated that she wasn't enjoying her pregnancy like so many other mothers, and hated how she felt like a prisoner in her own body.

But today: she'd be free.

"ALASTOR!"

A scream awoke the half asleep Radio Demon and he instantly appeared by her side, "what happened?! Are you okay?!"

"I think my water broke last nigh-ah! I'm having contractions!"

The baby was coming.

THE FUCKING BABY WAS COMING.

He instantly got them to the hospital, all while waking up the entire hotel. Vaggie shook Charlie awake, Husker threw a bottle at Angel Dust, and Niffty was frantically killing any bug she saw.

"MY BABY! WHERE'S MY LITTLE PUMPKIN?!"

Lucifer was panicking more than Alastor.

"Oh, my sweet pumpkin!" Lucifer ran to her side as she groaned at the contractions, her horns peaking in and out every time pain lashed through her body.

"Dad, it hurts."

"Where are the scrubs?! I need-!"

"Dad, isn't it the father who's supposed to get scrubs?" Charlie questioned nervously.

"But my baby needs me!"

"What I need is everyone to get the fuck out!" (Y/N) screamed, completely overwhelmed by all of it. Charlie dragged their dad out of the room, and Alastor stayed.

"I'm sorry," She began to cry, feeling horrible about yelling at him.

"You have nothing to apologize for, my sweet girl," His radio voice broke momentarily as he held her hand, "all this pain will be over and we can finally hold our child."

"I already feel like such a bad mom," She cried, "I'm supposed to love being pregnant, but I fucking hate it."

His heart ached for his sweet love. She was in constant pain but hated herself for it.

"I'd never lay another hand on you if it meant you'd never feel like this again," He confessed.

"I'll cut off anyone's hands who touch you."

She smiled at that, "I think. . .I think I'm done after this little one. Definitely need to find out if I can stop being so fertile."

But just as things were calming down, her hand tightened his, and another wave of contractions came. It continued like this for an hour, and with a few more pushes, their child was born.

And even though Lucifer tried breaking into the room, he kept away for a little while longer.

"It's a girl?" Alastor asked.

"Yes. Congratulations!"

"Oh, she's so precious," (Y/N) looked at their daughter, now resting in her arms. She had two small deer horns poking out of her soft head, a ruffle of red hair to go along with it.

"I will give you all the demon meat you desire," Alastor felt satisfied when he looked at his daughter, and felt a pang of happiness within him.

"I think I know what her name is, Alastor," she had been snooping around and found a name from his past, which would make her future husband all the more joyful.

"And what's that, my dear?"

"Manon," His smile faltered.

It was his mother's name.

He looked upon his daughter as she handed him over, her eyes opening to see the Radio Demon - her father.

"It's perfect," He smiled.

"Manon Morningstar."

When Alastor looked at her, all his doubts faded. He remembered how his mother doted on him, loving him and always being his number one supporter and just new that he would do the same for her.

"Can we come in?" Charlie asked carefully with Lucifer peaking in.

(Y/N) nodded and in came Vaggie, Charlie and Lucifer. Lucifer held two giant bouquets of roses, setting them on a table.

"Oh, she's adorable!" Charlie grinned.

"Would you like to hold her?" (Y/N) asked, and her sister happily accepted. The small demon wasn't fussy about being in her arms, just staring with curious eyes.

"Vaggie?"

Her eyes widened, "oh? Me? Uh, I mean, I don't know, I've never-"

"You'll be fine," before she could contest any further, Vaggie was holding Manon. Manon babbled at her, spit dribbling from her mouth as her hand reached up and pulled her hair.

"Okay! My turn!" Lucifer snatched his granddaughter away, staring at the baby with a happy-go-lucky smile.

"Oh you're so precious! I think you'll love duck's! In fact, it's your first toy," He squeaked a small rubber duck with wings in her face, and she began to cry.

"No, no, no, no! Please don't hate me! I love you!"

"I think mommy needs some rest, and Manon is hungry," Alastor scooped back his daughter, and Vaggie dragged Lucifer out as he cried over the fact that he is convinced his granddaughter hates him.

"She's perfect," (Y/N) sighed as she begun to feed upon her, and Alastor gave them both a kiss on their foreheads.

"You're perfect."