#should i start a hood kid tag

[missmiseryguts]

" why haven't you developed your swap au yet? "

Me:

I have like 20 more incorrect quotes I'm gonna waste my entire weekend drawing them all holy peck

Bonus

[ellieslittlewh0re]

𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏)

* ೃ⁀➷ part 2 - part 3

pairings - farmers daughter! reader x farmhand! ellie

summary - your dad hires a stranger to help out around the farm

additional tags - inexperienced but flirty reader, shy/loser ellie, cowboy boot wearing ellie, mutual pinning, slight masturbation mention (e!), e! w/ a southern accent??, eventual smut, (nothing too crazy happens in this part it’s mostly just setting vibes lol)

Beads of sweat collected on the bridge of your nose, and your thighs stuck together as you sat on the porch swing, just lazily swinging back and forth, using your tippy toes to keep the momentum going.

You look out over the vast pasture- green as far as the eye can see, with nothing to distract from the country landscape except for some power lines out in the distance.

Even with the sun starting to set- it was still unbelievably hot.

"Keep goin' like that and you're gonna die of a heat stroke."

You yell to your father who was working under the hood of his rusty truck. Usually, he pays no mind to your nagging, but this time it seemed to work- or perhaps he was just finished for the night.

He shuts the hood, slamming it with a metallic thud before wiping his hands on a greasy rag.

His boots rang loudly against the hallow wooden stairs of the porch, looking down at you through bushy eyebrows.

"I don't need your sass, kid."

You roll your eyes at his comment. He's always been stubborn and tough, but in his old age, you can't help but worry. His cheeks have hallowed over the years, sun spots forming from the countless hours working on the farm, and his movements became slowed from the hard work catching up to him.

"I wouldn't sass if you'd just listen. Seriously, it's okay to hire someone to help. no one is gonna shame you for that." You pester affectionately, standing from the swing to open the screen door and enter the house with him following behind.

You follow him to the kitchen, listing all the reasons why he should have help.

One: he's getting old.

Two: his knee has never been the same since he had that operation done 4 years ago.

Three: the farm is too big and demanding to tend to alone.

"Okay- enough.. you sound just like your mother sometimes I swear." He hold a hand up, pausing you mid-ramble, and takes a sip from the glass he filled from the tap.

You pouted, and once again, your suggestions felt shot down.

He finishes the water, wiping his beard with the back of his hand.

"I actually have someone comin' by tomorrow. They were recommended t' me by Phillip at the feed store."

Your eyes lighten up, a smile grows on your face, and you finally feel like you can breathe, knowing that the hardships wouldn't be your dads alone anymore.

You rush around the kitchen island, placing a kiss to your dads cheek and squeezed him tight.

"Thank you! I can't wait- I'll have to bake em' something sweet tonight."

"Alright- settle down-" he pushes you away slightly with a smile on his weathered face. Truly an adoring annoyance that only a parent could love.

Your old man calls it a night, showering and off to bed he went, but you? Oh- you were busy. You tried your hardest to keep the sound down to a minimum, bowls, and kitchen utensils splayed on the counters.

A small apron draped around your waist, flour smudged on your cheekbone as you pulled the blueberry scones out of the oven. A satisfied smile grows on your face as you observe your work and finishing of the pastries with a dusting of powdered sugar.

Maybe, you were going a tad bit overboard, but the truth is, you were painfully lonely. The only time you had any visitors on the farm was when you held pumpkin patches in the fall, but even then, it was always young families that didn't bother to stay around for too long.

You go upstairs, a slight pep in your step as you did so. You showered and put in your favorite pajamas- a short, soft floral patterned dress with bows that secured the straps.

You tossed in bed, sleep not being in favor since your mind was still wide awake. You try to picture what they would look like- what they sounded like.

Was he tall? Around your age, or is he just another old man like your father? Maybe they're not a man at all.

It's best not to get ahead of yourself; whoever this person is, they are coming to work for your dad and not to become your friend.

-

You slept lightly, and your senses became more aware as a muted thud rang outside your second-story bedroom window. You open your eyes slowly, blinking away the sleepy confusion as dust particles dance in the sunbeams of your room.

It took you a few seconds to realize why today was so important, but once you remembered- it had you scattering out of bed to your window, pulling back the sheer laced curtains, and taking a peak outside.

There was a truck you didn't recognize parked in the driveway. It was slightly newer than your dad's, but that's not saying much; a simple 2-door with an extended bed, slightly lifted with sturdy-looking tires.

A slim figure stood next to the driver's side door, hands on their hips as they looked up at the house. To your surprise, it wasn't a man at all.

You squint, trying to get a better look at her without realizing how big of a creep you are being.

Her hair shined a brilliant shade of auburn in the morning light, a brown button up shirt with the sleep rolled up to her elbows, slightly flared and worn denim jeans hugged her hips with brown cowboy boots that seemed to match the leather of her belt.

You caught a glimpse of something on her arm, dark lines that disrupted her pale skin. It was a tattoo, although you could make out the details of the design.

She looked the part of someone who knows how to run a farm, but something about her seemed so out of place- almost like she was too pretty for such a dirty job.

While you were too busy eyeing her up and down, you didn't realize she had caught you. She put her hand up, holding it there for a second before bringing it back down to her side. You wave back, a slight wiggle of you fingertips which made her smile.

You watch her walk out of the frame of your window before sitting on the edge of your bed- your fingers grasping at the embroidered comforter. You had this weird feeling in your tummy; it was something you couldn't explain, almost like nausea but also like when you go on a big rollercoaster.

You felt nervous but excited all at the same time. You figured it was because she was around your age, maybe slightly older- shrugging it off as you got up and got ready for the day.

You brush your hair before tying it into two loose braids, finishing it with light pink ribbons at the ends. You wanted to put a little more effort into your appearance today since you're meeting someone new, and as daddy always said, "First impressions are the most important."

You take a deep breath in the last most of solitude of your room before making your way down the stairs, the conversation between the stranger and your father growing louder and louder from the kitchen as you inched closer.

"There she is-" your dad motions an arm in your direction, the stranger immediacy turning to meet your face.

"Ellie, this is my daughter, y/n, and y/n, this is Ellie."

"It's nice t' meet you, Ellie." You said in your sweetest voice you could muster as you walk towards her, holding a hand out.

"Likewise." She smiles, taking your hand in hers and shakes it firmly. She seemed respectful, maybe even a little flustered- seeing that her cheeks started to turn a deep shade of pink.

Upon seeing her closer, it didn't help settle your nerves. She was gorgeous; freckles adorned her alabaster skin, a scar that ran through her eyebrow and upper lip, and her eyes a mossy shade of green with dark, long lashes framing the shape.

She was honestly the prettiest girl you've ever seen but not in the same way you were often described. There was a boyish charm to her that you had never seen before.

"Well- best we get to it then." Your dad chimes in, causing you to let go of the calloused hand that you hadn't realized you were still holding onto.

"I'll see you around Ellie." You just barely make audible to her, bitting down on your bottom lip before turning on your heel and leaving them to do their jobs.

Ellie was almost speechless upon meeting you. Never in a million years did she ever think a girl like you could live in this small country town, but fuck, leave it to her luck- you were the boss's daughter, which means you were off limits.

You didn't make it easy on her either, prancing around in your little summer dress that flowed with your movements, rising dangerously high when you would turn around, almost giving her a peek of your ass.

Ellie swallowed hard each time, the saliva filling her mouth with all the dirty thoughts she had- which mostly consisted of you underneath her, completely naked and trembling after she forced a 4th orgasm out of you.

-

The sun was starting to set, blanketing the canvas in shades of orange and pink, and to your disappointment- Ellie would be leaving soon.

She was walking towards her truck, slightly dragging her feet from exhaustion, and you're happy she did so. It gave you enough time to run out of the house barefoot, container filled with the homemade goods in your hands.

"Ellie!-" you called out to her which made her turn around, her hand opening the driver side door.

You nearly bump into her, slightly out of breath as you held up the tupperware with both of your hands.

"Sorry- I made them last night, must've forgotten in to give 'em' to you earlier." Again, your voice is so sweet and innocent- like honey coated candies on her tongue.

A smirk grows on her face, taking the gift from you to inspect them.

"That's mighty kind of you.. oh no, are these blueberries?"

Your face contorts to concern, and Ellie can't help but think how fucking cute you look all worried like that.

"Yeah, why? Do you not like 'em?" You pout, almost like you're on the verge of tears

A low chuckle reverberates in her throat, "I'm just messing with you, doll. They look delicious."

"Meanie."

A few seconds of silence go by, and Ellie looks everywhere except your face, and I mean everywhere- including the plushness of your breast that spilled over the top of your dress - she couldn't have you knowing how red her cheeks are right now.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" She said it almost like a question- as if you'd miss out on such an opportunity.

"See you tomorrow, Ellie. Goodnight." You stand on your tippy toes, planting a quick kiss on the rounds of her cheeks, and run back inside, leaving Ellie in full panic mode.

She gets into her truck, taking a moment to herself before turning over the engine. Her fingers tighten around the steering wheel as she replays it in her head. She felt like she could combust, literally and figuratively- her head came down to rest on the wheel, and her cheeks ached from the smile that wouldn't seem to leave her lips.

In fact- she thought about it all night long. When she showered, when she laid in bed trying to sleep, she was tingling, an ache growing inside the depths of her stomach.

I mean, could you blame her? You didn't try to hide how hard you stared or how flirtatious you were towards her.

Maybe you were just like that with everyone.

Still- it didn't stop her. And It didn't stop her hand from slipping into the waistband of her checkered pajama pants, and it definitely didn't stop her from fingering herself to thoughts of you.

She came hard that night, harder than she had before, and she can't help but wonder- if simply her imagines of you felt this good, how would fucking you for real feel?

❥ taglist - @machetegirl109

[charlietheepicwriter7]

I'm obsessive over my Constantine Jr Au (which still needs a fic name for, I'm open to suggestions) because

this is a cranky danny. he's spent years fighting with no end in sight, with parents who he can't trust and his only companions never truly understanding what he's going through.

he vapes CBD for the pain he's constantly in. he drank alco/hol once to help him sleep, but his parents smelt it on his breath and, just like with their research, took that to believe EVERYTHING they'd ever suspected about danny to be true: that he drinks, he does dru/gs, he's in a gang. the only thing they've never suspected their son of--being a ghost--is the one thing he actually does.

then, right on the cusp of eighteen and freedom, he gets outed. AND transformed into a seven-year-old.

this is not a danny who is willing to play at being a child. and if anyone tries to, they're in for a foul time.

Danny was 17, transformed into a 7 year old and hides in Bludhaven, and is 8 when the police finally figure out that, hey, this weird kid who keeps altering us to crime scenes is usually right on the money about who the killer is, we should investigate that. Officer Grayson is on the case!

And discovers that he absolutely can't STAND this kid.

He thought he liked kids! Everyone thought he liked kids! but this kid...

This isn't called the Constantine Jr AU because Danny is a supernatural detective, or because Danny might be Constantine's kid. Its because Danny is an unrepentant little bas/tard and he makes it everyone's problem.

Danny vapes and blows bubblegum smoke in Grayson's face.

He takes out a flask and Grayson's grabs it, learning its full of orange juice. Danny then takes out a second flask, this one with vod/ka.

He wears a trenchcoat he found in the trash (the same trenchcoat Nightwing wears in DC vs Vampires, if you know you know) but the end and the sleeves are cut off for his hands and legs. the pockets are roughly around his knees.

Grayson is desperate to figure out more about this kid, but he doesn't go to batman because, time-line wise, this is right before red hood starts running around. Jason is dead/alive-in-hiding, Tim is Robin, and Dick is mad about it. (ages-- Bruce: ? Nightwing: 24 Jason: 19 Tim: 15 Danny: 8 Damien: 7-8)

he doesn't really bond with the kid until they're both kidnapped by a gang for hostages, and Danny's big kid emotions get a hold of him (he thought he could escape them bc he's an adult, he's gone through worse, but nope! child brain chemistry). Grayson is worried that he's hurt and in pain, but Danny confesses that he's always in pain. he has nerve damage all over his body, and the only thing he really trusts is CBD. He feels like shit for taking his juul away, but more importantly, because he's been treating Danny like a irritant and just a little kid.

they get rescued and Grayson tries to take him back to his home, but Danny reveals he's homeless, saying something like "I sleep where it suits me, just drop me off whereever."

Absolutely not, Grayson is taking kid back to his place for a bed, food, and a shower, in whatever order the kid wants.

Danny stays semi-perminantly at his apartment, but Nightwing tries not to push it, because this kid practically screams flight risk. unfortunately, the paparazzi have nothing better to do and snap a pick of Grayson and Danny getting dinner together, speculating that Dick's taken after Bruce

Danny doesn't care too much; I think his ghost form is the same, if glitchy, so his parents don't know about the deaging. Grayson is mildly panicking, but its not like he HASN'T been considering adopting the evil troglodyte. Even Bruce, Tim, and Alfred aren't the problem.

No, the problem is the Red Hood, a crime boss who just cut 8 people's heads off, seeing what looks like Nightwing pulling an innocent kid into the neverending fight against crime and Seeing Green.

Edit: Had to censor sh!t because ths wasn't showing up in the tags

[notjustjavierpena]

Terror

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: By popular demand! This turned awful in my brain very quickly. I know instantly that this won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, so please read the tags before jumping into this. Not everything is fun and games for hubby. 

Summary: Javier doesn’t think that he has nightmares about Colombia anymore until he suddenly does. The difference is that he also has you and the family that you have given him.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18, graphic description of gun violence, some gore, PTSD night terrors, major character death (but not really), panic attacks, domestic, cuddles, hurt/comfort, family time, love confessions, pregnant reader dies in this dream

Word count: 2.6k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54592621

Terror

Javier searches and searches to no avail. He walks with frantic determination between burning cars and bullet shells, occasionally hitting the latter with the tips of his shoes so they go cascading down the asphalt with a clinking sound. He doesn’t trip on them though, as his steps are sure, moving around the chaotic scene of the aftermath of an ambush by grabbing at whatever he can to push himself forward. 

He knows where he is but he doesn’t remember getting here, and he has no clue if he was involved in the shooting that has evidently occurred here. However, when he looks down at himself, he finds no bullet wounds and no tactical gear either. So why does he think that you are here? He yelps as he accidentally grabs the hood of a car that seems to have been burning for a while, the metal so hot that it scorches his skin. The heat radiating from the vehicle makes his body prickle with sweat, his shirt clinging uncomfortably to his skin that is riddled with damp sweat from anxiety. He clutches his burnt hand and continues down the never-ending street. 

Where are you? Where are they? He searches through several empty cars, nearly ripping the doors off of their hinges to get to you quicker. Perhaps you know where they are but he doesn’t even know where you are. 

When he gets to what feels like the hundredth car, finally reaching the end of the road that somehow resembles a labyrinth despite only moving forward, panic has started to rise in his throat. He calls for you but you don’t answer, and then he calls for Lucas in case he has managed to hide himself and his sibling somewhere. 

“Lucas! It’s alright, it’s just me!” He yells out but it’s just the echo of his own voice that answers him, “You can come out now, it’s over, te prome— (I promi—).”

Javier has turned the corner. It is the sight of Horatio Carrillo’s face that makes him realize that this isn’t real. Carrillo is dead, and he has been for nearly twenty years. Javier will never forgive himself for not having been there. He should have been there with everyone. It should have been him; he had had nothing waiting for him back in Laredo. 

In front of him, a row of children and teenagers are kneeling but he doesn’t recognize any of their faces. He has seen this scene before. He remembers doing nothing back then, and the thought is enough to make his gut twist with guilt and nausea even if nothing could have been done to change Carrillo’s attitude towards the kids. He hears a gunshot and a young child falls to the ground, head split open from the way the bullet has torn through soft, young flesh. He flinches in a way that he didn’t back then, in a way that only a man who is a father can. 

Carrillo’s blank and indifferent stare terrifies him to the point where he wishes that he could wake up. It is clear that this is a nightmare, so why hasn’t he woken up yet? Aren’t you supposed to wake up when you have figured it all out? He tries pinching his arm but nothing happens, and the claustrophobia of being stuck in his own head makes his chest constrict and his heart, too big for his rib cage by now, hammer with the speed of a hummingbird’s wings. 

The stare he is watching is not one of being rid of emotion but rather the look that washes over a face when the person it belongs to is dead. His old colleague is standing in front of him in a zombie-like state and Javier cannot shake the feeling that Carrillo looks less like a person and more like a thing. 

“Carrillo,” he says sternly. On the ground, the blood oozes towards his feet and he shifts to avoid it soaking through his shoes. 

His colleague turns to him but doesn’t say anything. He still has the weapon in his hand, arm stretched out, and pointing the gun at the row of innocent children. Javier speaks quietly despite his anxiety, “C’mon, they’re just kids. Look at them; they’re just ki—“

He turns to look at the kneeling figures but the faces aren’t unknown to him anymore. His blood runs cold at the sight of his eldest son who has his arms stretched out to hold Inés close to his body, effectively shielding her from any shot that may be coming at her at any moment. 

“Lucas,” he croaks, “¿Dónde está tu madre (Where is your mother)?”

“I don’t know, Dad,” his son replies, “I’m scared.” 

“I know, don’t worry, I— I’m gonna take care of it,” he replies with a dizzying heartbeat followed by the urge to throw up. 

It’s then that you appear too. His heart skips a beat as you materialize right behind your kids, pregnant with his child and vulnerable as tears stream down your cheeks. Your arms are in front of you, wrapped around your children as you try to protect them while whimpering in a way that makes Javier more than desperate. He tries to sound more assertive than anxious but listening to his own voice, he doesn’t feel very successful. He turns back to Carrillo who hasn’t moved the firearm even an inch, “For fuck’s sake, get that gun away from my family!”

“Están trabajando para Escobar, Peña. Si quieres justicia, entonces esta es la única manera (They are working for Escobar, Peña. If you want justice, this is the only way),” is the only reply he gets. Carrillo spits at the ground.

Javier takes a step forward but suddenly, a shot is fired at his feet and he is forced to jump back with his hands in the air. His eyes are pleading, his voice wavering, “Jesus Christ, Carrillo, they’re not working for him. Put the damn gun down! They’re mine. They are my kids. You’re pointing a gun at my wife!”

Lucas shifts on his spot on the ground. His knees can barely hold himself up anymore, gravel gnawing at his kneecaps but Javier holds out a hand to stop him, “Don’t move, mijo (my son). I know you’re scared but—“

But Lucas’ eyes are wet with terrified tears. He panics, throws himself to the side to crawl away and the ghost of Javier’s previous colleague seems to come to the conclusion that it is too risky to attempt a shot in the boy’s direction in case he misses, so instead—

Javier flinches at the loud sound of the gun going off. You lie on the ground in the next moment. He lets out a cry of anguish, crawling across the gravel road to get to you until his hands are scraped and his knees are dirty. The love of his life and his unborn child.  

“No,” he yells as tears spring from his eyes. He clutches at you whilst you breathe rapidly and try to hold onto him as well but your grip is slowly loosening on him with every beat of your heart. He can see the way your pulse slows in how your clothes soak slower and slower, knows where it is going. You try to say something but he cannot understand it, your voice having been replaced by gurgles of blood, “No don’t try to talk, baby. Shit, I— look, it’s not even that bad. Shh, it’s okay, baby. It’s not even that bad, it’s fine, you’re gonna be fine, mi vida (my life). You and the baby. I promise.” 

The same blank stare as the one that Carrillo sports washes over your face. He says your name over and over, “Mi amor (my love), no, no, look at me. No, no, no no no.”

Inés has started screaming in panic. She’s crying for you in the most heart-wrenching manner, terrified when you don’t react to her words like you always do. Her pitch climbs with each passing second but Javier has no strength to soothe his daughter because he yells your name until it feels like he cannot breathe. 

Lucas yells for his mother in the background. The agony of hearing his children cry mixed with hearing you say nothing is too much for him. He panics, shakes you violently— 

He jolts awake in the next moment to the sound of your voice. Fear still has him in its grip and leaves him disoriented, ready to fight whatever comes his way. He hyperventilates until he feels lightheaded and tries to figure out where he is, beads of cold sweat having collected on his forehead during his restless sleep.

“Javi,” you say with a hand on his shoulder and he whips his head around to face you. A moment ago, your eyes had been glazed over by death.

Immediately, he grabs your wrist in an iron grip. You place your other hand on top of his, speaking softly, “Javier. Let go.”

“Are you alright?” He chokes out and grips you harder, eyes wild in the dimly lit bedroom. He wants to run a million miles, “Are you alright?” 

“I am okay, baby. We’re both safe,” you reassure him with a hand on your pregnant belly. Tears start to roll down his cheeks. He is unable to shake the image of you lying dead on the ground, “Shh…”

“Are you sure?” He whimpers, eyes flickering from your face to your stomach and back to your face again. 

“Yes. It was just a bad dream. It was just a nightmare,” your voice is still ever so gentle and nowhere near the way it had been in his state of terror. He releases the clutch on your arm and you carefully run a hand over his forehead, “Breathe. Hold my hand. Tell me you love me.”

You offer your free hand to him and he carefully takes it, trying to convince himself that you won’t slip away from him in the dark bedroom. You squeeze his hand slightly. It’s a silly thing you came up with years ago. 

“I love you,” he says quietly, already feeling a little better but when you say it back ever so gently, he finds himself bursting into tears. He cries and it is the kind that comes from the very bottom of one’s lungs; frantic and breathy sobs that sound almost painful.

He thought that the nightmares had stopped. They had been bad when he first met you, and he connected it to his decreasing alcohol consumption because back in Colombia, he was sometimes too boozed up to even dream. However, meeting you - marrying you - had been a glimpse into a future where he could get better because you were together. So why does his brain still do this once in a while? 

“Pensé que te había perdido para siempre (I thought I had lost you forever),” he sobs when you engulf him in your arms. He rests his head against your soft chest, grabbing onto whatever he can of you to make sure you are real. It’s only times like these when his strong, broad hands feel unsure on your skin. 

“Oh, baby. I’m right here,” you rock him carefully in a way that a mother does, “I’m not going anywhere, te prometo (I promise you).” 

“No puedo vivir sin ti (I can’t live without you),” he continues. You reassure him that he won’t have to, that by then, someone will have discovered eternal life or made all of you into kind-hearted robots. Despite the chuckle he lets out, you also let him cry for as long as he needs to. 

It takes you a while to calm him down again, resting your chin on top of his head as he lets himself fall into you instead of going out of his mind. He mumbles, “Where are the kids? Where’s Inés?”

“They’re in bed,” you promise him, arms cradling him and rubbing his back until his breathing starts to slow again, “They’re okay. They’re just asleep.”

Except they are not asleep. Your hand stops moving on his back, and he looks up at you to find your eyes on the door. 

“Inés. Lucas. Stop standing at the door,” you say gently. 

“Sorry,” they say in unison.

Relief floods Javier’s system at the sound of his children’s voices. His chest expands as he breathes in deeply for what feels like the first time since he woke up. He watches their little faces, hears the click of the lamp on your nightstand as you turn on the light. 

“Is Daddy okay?” Inés asks carefully. Her eyes tell Javier that he has noticed the tears on her father’s face.

“We heard you yelling,” Lucas elaborates to his father, “Inés didn’t want to go in here alone. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, sweetie,” your voice is sweet and calm. It is in these moments that he loves you the most; when you prove to be the anchor in any storm, knows that the only times he might actually get a good night's rest is when you are right here beside him. 

“Come here, mis amores (my loves),” he scoots a little away from you to open his arms. His children look uncertain for a moment but then Inés rushes forward to climb into bed and into his embrace. Lucas follows a moment after, the both of them earning a kiss on top of their heads. 

Inés’ eyes are wide as she stares up at him, “Papá, you scared me.”

“I had a bad dream,” he explains to both of them and attempts to smile, pulling them closer to his chest. They make faces as they are squished but he doesn’t let go, “but I’m okay now. I’m sorry for waking you.”

“Then why are you crying?” Lucas gets out of the embrace to study his face, shocked to see the tears running down until they drip down from his chin. 

“Daddy! You are crying!” Inés parrots her older brother as she notices too. She kneels in front of her father and tilts her head. 

“I am?” He asks, pretending not to know. Inés’ tiny hand reaches to wipe a few tears away without much success and his heart clenches in his chest with how lucky he feels to have such a beautiful family. 

“It’s okay to cry,” Lucas explains softly, “That’s what Mom says.”

“Alright, let’s give your father some space,” you lock eyes with your husband, cup his cheek for a moment before brushing away the last traces of tears from his face with the back of your hand. He smiles at you and it is completely genuine for the first time. 

“I don’t want to sleep,” Inés protests loudly.

“What if you both sleep in here for the rest of the night?” You bargain whilst still smiling at Javier, however a little more goofily now, “Just for tonight.”

Lucas is already crawling under the covers to cuddle up next to you, and Inés lays down next to her father. It takes a moment of quiet chatter and soothing caresses to make them both fall asleep again, their bodies exhausted from being awake in the middle of the early hours of the morning. 

Javier can’t fall back asleep but from the way you breathe, he can tell that sleep hasn’t found you either.

Outside, the first light of dawn has begun to filter through the curtains. There’s a warmer glow in the room now, and he peeks at you from where he lies, looking like someone catching a glimpse of their crush. 

"I love you," he whispers, his voice barely audible. 

You turn your head to face him and smile tenderly, the morning glow illuminating you from behind. You are so beautiful, he thinks, beautiful and pregnant, and he is so lucky. 

Your voice is filled with genuine happiness, warm and loving. You look down at your sleeping children, place a hand on your bump, and then look back up at him, "We love you too.”

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[jasntodds]

Broken Heart Of Gold [J.T.]

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Request: yes, here

Summary: After Jason messes up on a mission, he goes to you

Warnings: Swearing, hurt/comfort, mentions of injuries, self-deprecating thoughts (jason), mentions of previous homelessness, mentions of death

Words: 2,514

A/n: I was listening to You Are Enough by Citizen Soldier and Broken Heart Of Gold by One OK Rock so here we are lol I also have another fic similar to this here because I will write this concept a million times if no one stops me. If you wanna be tagged in my fics, you can click the link below, send me an ask/comment, or follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

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He’s been doing this for years. He was just thirteen when he first put on the Robin suit. And it was magical.

Being Robin always made Jason feel like he was magic. He was invincible and strong and worthy and enough and important. He had a purpose. For so much of his life, he was the one taking care of his mom and then she died. She died and it left him cold and alone and on the streets. But Robin brought him importance and safety and warmth. Being Robin meant he lived in a home where he was cared for and never asked to care for them. Not that he ever minded caring for his mom because he never did. But it was nice not having to take care of himself, even if he always did anyway. Being Robin gave him freedom and he got to kick ass. He got to go out there and he got to help Batman bring down some of the worst of the worst. He was enough and important. And worthy. But he wasn’t invincible. Because the Joker killed him.

He died and that was that. Robin wasn’t magic or invincible. Robin was just some kid in a mask and cape. But, then a betrayal to death and fate happened and Jason’s alive again. He came back and became Red Hood because the Joker was alive and well, Bruce had a new Robin, and the world left Jason behind.

He came back and it’s as if he wasn’t even wanted. He became Red Hood for people like him. The ones left behind. The ones Bruce won’t help in the way he should. Jason became Red Hood, knowing this life only leads to pain and death, to do what Bruce is too cowardly to do. He became Red Hood to be the voice for all the victims like him. That could have been saved if the hard choices were just made but weren’t. He is their voice and their protector. So, he’s been doing this for years. And the missions that go south, still never get any easier.

There’s a loud thud coming from your window, snapping you from your shallow sleep on the couch. You sit up quickly, your head slightly spinning with the sudden movement and you look over to your window, seeing the reflective red helmet shining back at you in the low light of the city and your apartment.

Jason takes the helmet, a mild quiver to his fingertips. “Sorry.” Jason mutters. “Did I wake you?”

You shake your head, moving to your knees so you can get a better look at him. “No, I was just lying down.” You lie, knowing he hates waking you up and you hadn’t been asleep more than twenty minutes anyway.

“That’s good.” Jason clears his throat but he hasn’t made any attempt to get up off the floor or make direct eye contact with you.

It’s all feeling heavy. His head, his eyes, his limps. Everything around him feels like it’s starting to close in. The adrenaline is crashing and everything feels like it’s about to suck the last breath from his lungs. It all hurts and aches and he usually handles it well, the injuries just come with the territory. He’s used to the pain but then nights like tonight happen and everything hurts. Every passed injury is echoing in pain, coming back for vengeance. The autopsy scars burn even though they shouldn’t, his face feels numb even though those injuries have been long healed from the pit. Every haunted injury comes back with a shattering echo.

“Jay?” You ask softly, trying to get him to look at you.

Usually, when Jason comes back from patrol, he's injured in some capacity. But, most of the time, he has this grin anyway that could light up Gotham's darkest alleyways. It's always a little cheeky and always a little arrogant. And charming. Because he went out and he did something good, for people who can't help themselves. His eyes are usually bright, blue and bold with enough energy to power your apartment. Those are the times he usually comes to you but then sometimes, like tonight, it's like every ghost comes back and takes over. The light is gone from his eyes and it's as if he's physically incapable of managing even a fake reassuring smile. It's these nights that are always the most worrisome because you know Jason has a habit of beating himself up relentlessly when something bad happens.

For a second, he’s not sure why he showed up here. You always clean him up and stitch him up. You’ve been doing it since he was Robin. A routine because you always understood when he needed to talk or sit in silence. But tonight, he’s not even feeling like he’s worthy of the kindness that radiates from your unbroken bones. He doesn’t think he deserves the help you always offer and the understanding because he failed tonight. And it was his fault. It was so bad that his jaw clenches as his heart starts to thunder.

"Are you okay?" You keep your voice soft, just above a whisper as if speaking too loudly will shatter him entirely.

His breath hitches in his throat with the question. He nearly shatters into a billion pieces right into your carpet. Jason Todd, on a good day, is rarely ever really okay but tonight it’s so much worse. He’s trapped in a harsh reality of what he does every night and he’s trapped in his own head, haunted by every passed mistake he’s ever made. Is he doing the right thing? Is this the only way? Is Bruce right? Maybe he is fucked up and maybe he never should have been brought back. Maybe those people would be alive right now if it weren’t for him.

Jason swallows his own heartbeat, a task that feels more like swallowing river rocks. "Yeah, I'm fine." His words are short and brittle while a redness starts to wash over his eyes.

You nod slowly before you get up from your spot on the couch. Jason watches you carefully and he knows you’re about to offer him the care he swears up and down he does not deserve. You crouch in front of him, resting your hands on his knees. Jason nearly pulls away but he knows it would hurt you if he did and he doesn’t want to cause anyone else any more pain. Not tonight.

“You don’t look fine.” You say softly as you tilt your head to the right. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Uh, yeah.” Jason nods as his mouth runs dry. “A few places.”

“Okay so I’ll get the kit and you can move the couch.”

“You don’t have to fucking help, alright? I don’t know why I came here.” Jason huffs but it's weak and ragged, forced as if speaking is too much of a task.

“You always come to me for help, Jay.” Your voice is kind and gentle as your thumbs lightly run over his knees.

“I know but I’ve already stained your carpet and couch. It’s late and you have work. I’ll just go home. It’s fine.” Jason shakes his head, his eyes plastered where your hands meet his knees.

“I don’t mind.” You shrug as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Taking care of you, I mean. It doesn’t bother me.” You offer him a soft smile once he glances up to you. “And Alfred told me how to get the stains out so…you really wanna use that as an excuse or you gonna let him help you?”

Jason lets out a sigh. “I don’t know.” There's a quiver in his voice.

You tap his head lightly with your finger, Jason's eyes finally locking on yours. "What's going on up there?"

You were on the streets together before he got lucky, well, depending how you want to look at it. You've known him for years and Jason has always been the one who wants better for people, Robin and Red Hood just gave him the opportunity to actually help those people. But, with that, he's also been the person who doesn't really know his worth or believes he's enough. A lot of things have happened, a lot of people have come and gone to nail those thoughts into the deepest parts of his mind. Those are always the thoughts that tend to be the ones that stick, even if they aren't true and you know they aren't.

You know Jason has a heart of gold and always has, always will. He thinks dying charged a part of that because sometimes, it feels like he should still be dead. So, he beats his heart out of his chest until he shatters into pieces, the shards always ricocheting back at him. He breaks his own heart because he thinks he deserves it, scattering the pieces in hopes the pain will always be true to what he deserves. But, you come around and pick up the pieces anyway because you always knew he was enough and worthy and important. You always knew that Jason would do what was best, for him and for other people who needed help.

"I got a damn cipher wrong and I was too late." Jason's voice finally cracks, his words harsh and aimed at himself.

His eyes always turn to almost a navy blue whenever he starts crying. It doesn't happen often, at least not around you, but you notice it. It's as if the emotional turmoil takes over every part of him stripping him of the liviness he usually has and that includes the brightness of his eyes. And it breaks your heart every time.

Jason has always had a thing about not being enough. He wasn't enough for either of his parents to stop using or enough for his dad to stick around, get a legal job. He wasn't enough for Bruce. A lot of people have tried over the years for him and tried with good intentions to just genuinely help because he deserved to be happy and healthy and safe but for some reason, it was never enough. Something else would happen and it'd mess it all up and the only one who ever got hurt in the mess was Jason. He's mentioned, a handful of times, maybe it was just him. Destined to like this forever. But you never saw it that way.

"I'm sorry, Jay." You brush the white streak of hair out of his eyes. "Do you wanna talk about it?" You ask, your brows pulled together.

You never saw him as not enough or damaged. He's an asshole, sure, but he's also kind and forgiving. He just wants to help people. Even when you were kids, questioning where your next meal was coming from, he'd try to help other kids if he could. It's what he did. It's what he does. You found out he was Robin and all you could do was laugh because the whole vigilante thing really fit him. Maybe not the way Bruce wanted things done, but helping people who the GCPD can't or won't help. But, even beyond being a vigilante, he's your favorite person. And you wouldn't trade him for the entire world. You desperately wish he could see himself through your eyes. Maybe it would help on nights like tonight.

"No." Jason scoffs, shaking his head. "No, I don't wanna talk or think about it anymore."

"Okay." You shrug casually, knowing he'll talk in bits and pieces later. "So, why don't we get you cleaned up and stitched up then we lay down. We can watch something or I can read to you until you fall asleep. Your choice." You offer him a gentle and kind smile.

"I don't wanna keep you up later. You'll be late for work again." Jason huffs, guilty pulling at the pit of his stomach.

You shrug, giving him a cheeky grin. "Eh, yeah, I can take some PTO." Your face suddenly lights up. "What if I take PTO and we go to Petsmart tomorrow, pick up some food and we go see the kittens at the shelter? If we bring in food, we can hang out with them for a little while."

The excitement in your voice gets Jason to crack a small and fragile smile. You know how much he likes cats. It's a silly offer, maybe, but it is nice and Jason will never understand why you try to hard to make him feel better, even when he thinks he doesn't deserve it. But, he does know, he is thankful for you anyway,

"That's how you wanna spend your precious time off?" Jason's voice is rough this time but it doesn't crack.

"With you and like twenty kittens? Yes." You nod quickly. "And I think you need it, anyway." Your smile falls into something comforting and honest. It feels like home. "Hanging out with animals is good for your mental health."

"Really?" Jason raises a brow at you.

"Oh, are you gonna tell me you're not beating yourself up and thinking you're the worst? You're not. I think you're the best but I know you well enough to know you don't think so when something happens." You suck in a breath, your hands sliding over his knees a few times. "So, we go hang out with some kittens and you'll feel a little better to tell me what happened and then I'll tell you that you still did your best."

"How do you even know that?" Jason scoffs, dodging your eyes again as the guilt starts pulling on his vocal cords.

"Because you always try your best." You answer simply. "It's not always easy, Jay and it's not always gonna work out. But, you always try and that's enough." You place your hand on his cheek, getting him to look at you. "So, what'd ya say?" The corner of your mouth perks up into a gentle and hopeful smile.

The last thing he wants to do is disappoint you, let someone else down. But, he also knows, deep down, that you do it because you care and you really believe everything you tell him. All you want to do is be there for him and maybe it does take some of the weight off of his shoulders. When he's carrying the world, you stand under it with him. And when he's taking a hammer to his own heart, you yank the hammer away and swap it out with glue, helping him put it back together. And on nights like tonight, he's not sure where he'd up if it weren't for you.

Jason nods softly, taking your hand in his. "Yeah, alright, thanks." Jason leans closer, resting his forehead against yours.

"Of course, Jay." You press a quick kiss to his nose. "Now, come on, lemme help you." You get to your feet and offer your hands to help Jason up.

He shakes his head, his chest still feeling heavy but knowing you'll always be here makes things easier. So, he sticks out of his own hands and encompasses yours in his before he stands up.

Tag list: @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai  // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss // @ghostkingblake // @dgraysonsss // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @vivian-555 // @kebonita // @deyja-the-duckk// @jasontoddslover // @captainmarvels-blog // @totallynotkaibiased // @scarlovesyou // @whydoyoucare866 // @littlemeowmeow1000 // @septixtrash // @kplatzman // @killxz

[navstuffs]

The Visitor

Pairing: Incubus!Leon Kennedy x GNSupernaturalHunter!Reader

Summary: Your mom always told you to find allies between your enemies - but your incubus consultant, Leon Kennedy, wants to be more than that.

Warning tags: SMUT with gn!reader so MINORS DNI,frenemies to lovers, sexual tension, masturbation, oral sex, penetration, excessive cum (its my headcanon for incubus so), jealousy sex (sorta)

Author's tags: we are the end of my halloween challenge! thank you so much for everyone who supported me. i am so freaking proud and happy with myself that i finally got to finish ONE thing that i commited! last one has to be smut. happy halloween!! enjoy your reading!

my halloween's masterlist

Rain starts as you drive to your home. It has been one heck of a night. The streets are empty as they should be at 2 a.m., but your senses are on high alert. You blame your genetics: coming from a legendary lineage of supernatural hunters, you were expected to become one from your early age, liking or not. It was in your blood. The problem? To be able to sniff other supernatural beings with that same skill prompts your social and love life to be awkward sometimes.

Take tonight as an example: first date with a nice fellow you met on a dating app. When you arrived, your sixth sense instantly picked a creature nearby; you shouldn't be surprised, but obviously, it came from your date. The man, a recently transformed werewolf, ended up reacting to your dangerous smell. And what was supposed to be an excellent night with you fucking your brains out ended up with an awkward goodbye, together with the silent promise of never seeing each other again.

As you park your car in front of your house, you rest your head on your wheel. It had been like this for a while: you met a nice person until you found out they were friends with a vampire or a family member who was a banshee. Your romantic life was nonexistent, which your mom would approve of: "We must remain sharp. No time for this romance bs." Says the woman who almost ran away with a vampire as a teenager.

You are so focused on your thoughts you don't pick up the familiar sensation stinging in your chest as you should. You had been around him so long that your body had started not to react in alert when you were near him. It's almost as if you are getting comfortable.

You exit your car, covering your eyes against the rain, which is getting stronger. You notice the familiar figure sitting on the steps of your porch. He has his hood on, his face partially obscured by the darkness, but you would know him from anywhere: Leon Kennedy. The incubus, you sometimes have the displeasure to work with him. You sigh, wondering what he was doing there so late.

As you approach the entrance, Leon raises his head, and you are met with a pair of enchanted blue eyes. You can feel your stomach twist in a way you are used to by now. It is not technically his fault: Leon needs to have this effect on people if he wants to feed. His eyes start from your head to your well-dressed figure, then your legs, and return to your face. You decide to ignore that and the way your body has warmed up.

"What is it? This better be important." You scoff, and Leon finally gets up, opening a small smile.

"Am I not always important?" Leon chuckles, crossing his arms, a smug smile on his lips. Attractive bastard, you think.

"Yeah, sure, sure. What is it, Kennedy?"

"And where did you come from? A date?"

"Kennedy, I really don't have time for that." You answer, impatient. Your body is telling you to get away from the "monster," and you have to trust your instincts. You search for your house key, walking past Leon and ignoring how inviting he looks tonight.

"Werewolf this time? At least it wasn't a ghoul like last time," Leon teases you, walking up behind you. You look back at him, furious, after opening the door of your house, and Leon raises his arms in a sign of defeat. "I am kidding."

"No, you are wasting my time. Goodnight, Kennedy." As you try to close the door on his face, Leon stops it. You look at him like he has gone crazy, caught off guard by the look you are met back: hungry as a hunter staring at his defenseless prey. 

The rational part of you wants to tell Leon to fuck off and close the door on his face. Advising you to remain unaffected if Leon is trying to seduce you now. But you are so tired tonight that you let the irrational one speak. The one that is needy for some sort of human contact tonight. Even if it's from a freaking demon, who pisses the crap out of you.

And to not help, the next time Leon speaks is in a much more vulnerable tone.

"Can I come in?"

Your mom's biggest piece of advice? That you should always find allies between your enemies. They were always traitor among their kind. You and Leon met by accident three years ago. Like most sex demons, he would prey on his victims in places with a strong sexual desire, like strip clubs, bars, or regular clubs.

You were there trying to find another sex demon who was killing his victims after sex, instead finding yourself in the middle of a fight between two very hungry incubus. You should have had an easy time, but a bigger fight started amongst the humans present as well. It was a mess.

Leon helped you, to your surprise. You realized he was an incubus as soon as he grabbed your hand to get you out of the middle of the mess. Your body reacted as it should to his presence: you pulled your hand away, disgusted, but simultaneously, you were affected (and you knew it). Usually, you shouldn't remain unaffected by their extreme sexual energy (they were created for that), but with Leon, it was different. You didn't know why. Leon offered to help find this killer incubus, which proved to be an easier task with him at your side.

And now you could consider him your partner. A very annoying, sexy, good-looking sex demon partner who always looked at your body with interest when he thought you weren't looking.

Like right now. You ignore again your rational part as you bend over to find a bottle of water by the fridge. If Leon's eyes are on your ass or not, you don't really care. It is your fault for letting him inside your house anyway.

"Again, what do you need, Kennedy?" You ask as you close the fridge door with a bump. Leon is resting against the kitchen counter, the hood down. His dirty blonde hair is by his shoulders now, much longer than you first met.

"Decided to go for a bike ride late at night. Couldn't sleep."

"Oh? And you are telling me that because? Are we friends or something?" Leon ignores the irony in your voice, a small smile on his lips. You wait. 

"No, we are not."

"Good, because-"

"I don't want to be your friend, anyway." Leon declares a somber tone in his voice. It's that same feeling you have had many times near Leon: he is trying to take down your defense walls, one by one. Wanting for you to feel anything other than danger.

"I see. The feeling is mutual." You whisper back, clearly affected this time. Leon starts approaching you slowly. When he stops before you, your back against the cold fridge. There is nowhere to run from his blue eyes. You can't move or don't want to move.

"What do you truly want?" You murmur again, afraid of the answer. Leon places each arm to your sides, caging your body with his. You have never felt so scared before, but not in the wrong way. Never felt so small. So powerless. Passing control to someone else shouldn't feel so easy. 

"What do you think I want?" He tilts his head to one side, tempting you to answer. You bite your lips, wanting to close your eyes but keeping them locked on his. You can still pull him away, your rational part suggests. Pull him away and never see Leon Kennedy again. But do you truly want that?

"This is a trick." You place your hands on Leon's chest. Either stopping or grabbing it, you don't know. You close your eyes, shaking your head, refusing to see, to feel what is right in front of you: Leon Kennedy wants you. 

You were doomed from the start as soon as you let him in. Not here, not today, but from the club. From accepting his hand, reaching out to you.

You know that getting too close to the sun could eventually burn. You have known since the first meeting that allowing Leon Kennedy into your life would be trouble. The wet dreams about him, the fact you would get jealous every time he went out for "a meal." You tried to deny for a long time, ignore, and kill those feelings that only grew stronger. Because who would be stupid enough to fall in love with an incubus?

"Open your eyes." Leon's smooth voice commands, and you still fight again, your body urging you to obey him. Tired of resisting, you open to find him just inches away from your face, his lips close enough so you can finally kiss them. "I can give you what you want. You wouldn't have to go scoping around searching for it. I can leave you breathless. I can give you all the pleasure you deserve and much more."

Leon's voice sounds like butter. This is it: you are into the incubus enchantment. You are melting inside, your hands now grabbing his hoodie. 

What actually breaks you is that Leon seems to be asking for your permission. Deep down, Leon could seduce you, could make you kneel and beg for him. Instead, the silent please in his eyes, the desperation in his voice, his hand trembling against your cheek. You close your hands around his hoodie, bringing his lips into yours. It surprises you how ferocious you are kissing him, surprises you how you moan into the kiss.

Finally, your body aches relieved. Finally.

The feeling is mutual to Leon. What he never has told you is that since he met you, he knew he had to have you: he didn't know what it was about you. He had never heard of anyone of his kind falling in love (they are supposed to be the embodiment of sexual desire, anyway). The time bonding together (for more, you tried to not call that), fighting other creatures, and saving each other's asses made Leon just desire you even more. And for some strange reason, you seemed to reciprocate his feelings, too stubborn to admit. 

His feelings for you made him stop feeding as much, as Leon didn't find much fun and interest in other people. Everything tasted bland and boring compared to you. It didn't help with the dreams, the horny thoughts about you getting worse and worse. Usually, jerking off would be like a small snack for Leon, but thinking about you never left him completely satisfied. He needed to have you.

And tonight, especially tonight, after another sleepless night and having another dream about you sucking him off, Leon decided to, as numerous past nights, bike around town to cool off. He would need to get home and maybe jerk off again, imagining you squirming under him, begging for him to move when he noticed your smell. His attention turned into jealousy when he saw you hugging a werewolf who clearly had sexual intentions towards you.

After seeing this, Leon turned his motorcycle around with one destination: your house. He needed to try. He needed to show you what he felt for you. And if you sent him away, well, at least he would have tried.

Your bodies are entirely in sync. You are surprised to notice Leon knows precisely where and how you desire to be touched and how you like to be kissed. You "blame" the incubus side: he is supposed to seduce you, so you give him what you want.

You fall back into your mattress, and Leon pulls away from you momentarily. You are only in your underwear, bare chest, a complete mess with your lips swollen with the kisses. Your body is vibrating for him: Leon needs to admire that. Or else he would never believe his dreams turned into reality.

"You look so beautiful." He whispers with reverence, taking his hoodie off. You are surprised to see him with no shirt on. Leon pulls his pants down, and you gulp, watching his cock spring free.

"No underwear?" You wonder, your eyes locked into his hard-on. Were all incubus supposed to be this thick and big? 

"Easier that way," Leon answers, shrugging his shoulder. He kisses you again, and his hands take off the last piece of your underwear. He doesn't even know where to touch you first: your hard nipples or your sex? He is eager and somehow nervous. Leon is probably the first case of a nervous incubus in history.

"Leon?" You call his name, confused. He raises his head to meet your eyes, an emotional expression on his face. It is the first time you have called him by his name.

Leon starts paying attention to your nipples. He watches for your reaction, twisting and pinching the way that makes you moan more. You are clay under his hands; if Leon told you to run around naked, you would. At this moment time, you are no one else except his. 

"Spread your legs for me."

You obey his command, feeling his hard-on against your thigh. His hands go down your belly to your sex, more wet than usual. Leon smiles, rubbing you with a fingertip to get a taste of your juice. He chuckles as you tremble, your face embarrassed. 

"I have never been so wet like this," You confess.

"You never heard? Incubus charm can do that. Especially if the other one desires us back, really, really bad." You ignore the way he probably would have said meal. You can feel his breath between your tights, and your hands go into his shoulders to warn him.

"I won't last long if you do this."

"Exactly my point."

By the first touch of Leon's tongue on your needy sex, you can feel close to the orgasm. Your body is so warm, and one of your hands grabs his golden locks, keeping his head there. That only seems to thrill Leon more: He explores with his tongue up and down your sex, and you can't hold back your moans, your other hand grabbing the sheets under you. Leon hums, satisfied as he continues to savor you. 

It doesn't take long for you to cum in Leon's mouth. There is a sound of approval coming from his chest as your entire body shakes under him, your eyes rolling. It had never been this strong with your past partners, you had never come this fast. You would never tell Leon that. You need a moment to relax as Leon raises his head, licking his lips.

"Delicious. Even better, what I imagined." You try to not look embarrassed as he compliments you, the warm feeling in your chest happy to hear that.

"Leon?" You call him worried.

You finally realize his eyes remain the same blue eye color. You might not know a lot about incubus sex, but one thing you know is that their eyes turn a different color when they are feeding. You had heard about red, deep red, orange, orange red-ish. 

"You okay? Need more moments?"

"Why didn't you feed?" The worried tone of your voice doesn't go unnoticed by him. Leon smiles, attempting to ease your worries.

"I didn't ask for your consent. Didn't think it would be fair."

"You don't ask for consent for the others." You argue, the tone of jealousy making him chuckle. Leon lays on top of you, his arms caging you again.

"You are not like the others. You are special." Before the weight of his confession would make you run away scared, screaming for your life. Now, it makes you lock your legs around his hips, purring content.

"I am sure you say that to all others."

"No, I don't." His tone is serious. Leon starts to rub against your still-sensitive sex. He lowers down to kiss you, slowly and this time more patiently. You can taste yourself in Leon's mouth, making you wonder what Leon's taste is. When you break away, you confess in a hushed whisper you want him to feed. 

You want him satisfied with you. Only you.

When Leon penetrates you slowly, to not hurt you, for more wet that your entrance is with his magic, you watch fascinated his eyes turn into a weak red. He probably had been hungry for a long time, and something inside of you told Leon that he would need much more to be fed entirely. Leon pushes all his dick inside of you, giving both a moment to calm yourself. You feel delicious wrapped around him like that: tight and warm. There would be really no one else for him after this.

"You can move now." You whisper, rubbing his face. His first thrust is gentle but still drags a sob out of you. How come Leon has found your pleasure spot so quick? It had to be luck.

Your body had never been in such sync with someone else like that before: Leon knew precisely how to move his hips, how exactly would you make you moan the loudest. It doesn't take long for you to cum again, his thrusts still gentle, hitting that specific pleasure spot you love so much repeatedly. After you cum, Leon stops, worried you might say this is over, but you lift yourself from the bed with one hand, the other holding Leon's neck so he can look at you. You demand more from him, harder, faster. That makes you scream. That the whole town knows who you belong from now.

Your consent is probably what drives him over the edge. Leon doesn't stop now, and if it wasn't for his arm holding around your shoulder to keep you in the bed, you would have fallen out with the strength of his thrusts. You sound incoherent by now, pleading for something, someone, watching Leon's eyes flicker into a stronger red. His eyes never entirely leave your face, his hips hitting against yours with a supernatural strength. You thank mentally for your genetics, or else Leon could have actually hurt you. 

You both are close now, you to your third orgasm, Leon on his first one after weeks. Or months. He remembers how many times he has fapped to this vision before, your eyes rolling with your mouth parted as you begged him to not stop, to fuck you insane, never enough to completely satisfy him. But tonight, Leon is giving you all that he has gotten.

When you both come at the same time, your back arches against the bed, and your vision goes white. You scream, your body trembling under Leon's arm, holding onto his shoulders as if you are drowning in the water. Leon is your anchor now, keeping you remotely sane.

As Leon fills you up with a strangled moan of your name, Leon feels his starvation to subdue. He is still hungry as he always would be for you, but this time he is sated. Different from all the other times he had feed: different from the simple fucks he had when he was hungry. As the closest thing from an incubus could feel from love.

It takes you a few minutes to come back to reality. You blink, Leon at your side this time, his arm around you and his head resting against your shoulder. He has his eyes closed, but he isn't sleeping. 

"You okay?" He asks, finally opening his eyes. They are back to their normal blue eyes, even looking more vivid. 

"Yeah, I guess?" You can feel his cum in your tights leaking from your entrance. "What have you done to me?"

"I told you I would have given you what you deserved." Leon chuckles, and you hit in the arm lightly. Convinced bastard. 

You sit down, wincing at the soreness in the middle of your legs. You wonder if you were entirely human if you could walk the following day. There is a small puddle of white cum in the bed, and you look at him, surprised. 

"Didn't know you guys could make this much mess…"

"Only when we are entirely satisfied." 

Leon lays on his back, arms lifted with his head resting against his hands, a satisfied smile on his lips like he just had the biggest meal of his entire life. And he did: you look a mess, and Leon loves being the reason for that.

"So, do you have to leave now or…?"

"Not if you don't want me," Leon answers softly. 

"I don't." You confess, and Leon smiles, happy. The confused feelings in your thoughts and heart could stay for tomorrow. Now, you need a shower and change your sheets. Then cuddle with the man next to you.

"Do you guys cuddle?" You ask, sounding like an idiot, and Leon giggles again. 

"I think we can. You will be my first one anyway."

First one? Before you can ask what that means, Leon gets up from the bed. You watch as the light of the night illuminates his body, marked with your love. He raises his hand.

"I can see you are overthinking. Let's worry about tomorrow when tomorrow arrives, okay?"

You nod. Sounds like the perfect plan. 

taglist: @90sbee, @scar-crossedlvrs, @roseglazedlens, @sarahs-secrets2

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 15 . Limelight

a/n: ngl I'm starting to hate this, it's just that my writing style doesn't seem fitting for a series. maybe next time I'll stick to one-shots lol

also I'm so so sorry for the late update. I'm so busy I haven't slept for like a week now. However, I found some free time to write huhu.

tags: injuries, blood (it's cale what did you expect), self-doubt, war

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist prev . next

_____’s time in Vegas City had been relaxing. There’s no way it wouldn’t be when everyone, mainly Cale, made sure it was. And the healer is grateful to all of them. It gave them time to think and lament over the devastating news they had received.

In turn of that kindness and space, _____ made sure to recover after they left the Caro Kingdom. It wasn’t easy, all they wanted to do was lay on the bed all day and cry. Getting energy for the slightest task, even eating, was so hard. But they still pushed themself, because war was approaching.

The battlefield is calling and its first target is their new home.

So the healer pulled themselves by their bootstraps. Even as everyone tried to assure them that it was fine to not be okay they still spared no effort to recover from their depression and be back to normal.

“Basen-nim will handle communications. The Count and Countess will be on the battlefield. Lily-nim is too young.”

Currently, Cale and _____ are having a disagreement.

“That doesn’t mean you’re the only option left. The Henituse have a lot of retainers and people we can use.”

“But can you really go all out if it isn’t one of your direct people guiding the citizens?”

Cale could only furrow his eyebrows at that retaliation. The two are currently disagreeing whether or not _____ should be in charge of leading and guiding the citizens once the Paerun Kingdom attacks. 

Silence lingered for a few seconds. Cale knows that _____ is right. Especially after that northeastern nobles meeting… Cale can only have peace of mind if the one in charge of the citizens is someone he knows. Someone he trusts

_____ reached out towards the redhead, holding his hand to show their resolve.

“Cale, I’ll be fine.”

The healer can feel Cale squeeze their hand back.

“Fine…”

Cale pauses for a moment and _____ thinks they are nearing the end of the discussion.

“But let Raon cast magic on you for disguise.”

Apparently _____ thought wrong.

No way are they allowing the young dragon to cast and maintain magic on them when they need his mana to maintain the barrier. It would also be dangerous to ask another mage for a disguise when there’s always the possibility of their enemies bringing mana disturbance tools.

“Cale you know we can’t do that.”

“Yes, that’s why you better just stay inside the castle walls or beside me and Raon.”

“I can’t do that either. I promise I’ll be safe, plus I’ll be wearing my hood and mask. There’s no way anyone would recognise me.”

Cale sighed as he used his free hand to push his hair back. 

Honestly, everyone listening in (the kids averaging 8 years old) doesn’t know why the young master is fighting this losing battle. If it had been anyone else Cale would’ve agreed in a heartbeat. 

Plus sooner or later they know he’ll give in to the healer’s wishes.

He always does.

True enough, Cale’s resolve did not even last 5 minutes before he agreed to _____’s request. It’s now official that they will be leading the citizens towards safe zones. They would also be the first line of defence in case enemies get past the barrier and start attacking the city. 

Of course, if Cale or someone else from their side gets injured then _____ will run immediately to aid them.

The other people who didn’t listen in on the conversation didn’t even have to ask how it went. Results were obvious from the way _____ was humming on their way out with Cale sighing and petting On and Hong.

“Knight-nim please check if there’s any people left on area d. If you need me I’ll be double-checking our inventory and supplies.”

It’s been a few hours after Cale and _____’s talk. Right now the healer is making sure that everything is in order while their friends are fighting the Indomitable Alliance.

As the Medicus sees Choi Han and the others attack they remember a conversation they had with Cale last night.

The two are the only ones in the room. Well, the only ones awake. The children are with them but Cale has forced them to sleep because they need the energy for tomorrow. A serving of blueberry crumble paired with jasmine tea is being enjoyed as they talk.

“I plan to create a new history. To bring new heroes forward.”

“And I assume you won’t be part of those heroes?”

_____ asked in a joking manner as they refilled both of their teacups.

“Of course not. I only want to win this war and then go rest at the underground villa peacefully.”

Cale stopped speaking to take a bite out of the dessert.

“I’m telling you this because I want to ask you if you’d like to be part of that history. This battle would be a good opportunity to show everyone that you are alive.”

“I… thank you but it would be unneeded.”

The healer’s immediate answer made Cale look at them in confusion.

“Hmm well, that’s a shame the crown prince was also thinking of giving you the Perduellio’s assets as all of them have been found guilty.”

“Is he? I didn’t know such a thing.”

Of course _____ didn’t. Only Cale and Alberu know of such a thing. They're also the only ones who know the sorry state that family is currently in.

“But still… While I do agree with you that this is a good time to do that I still don’t want to do it. My time in the spotlight was not a good experience for me. It would be enough for me to see our friends be known and bask in that light.”

_____ sipped their tea before continuing.

“There’s also the fact that my adoptive family had committed a grave sin. I don’t think it’s right for me to strive for fame when I am still legally part of that family. I will reveal myself, but it won’t be now. I hope Cale and the crown prince can understand…”

Cale nodded in understanding. He's not cruel enough to force someone to do what he wants just because he wants to hide in the shadows. There are already more than enough heroes that he can push into the spotlight.

“I understand, I’ll inform the crown prince don’t worry about it.”

_____ snapped out of their daydream to focus back on their task. 

At least tried to.

Right about when _____ is about to talk to another knight they saw Cale bleed. The healer would have left it to the priests and healers near the field if it was just Cale’s normal bleeding. But it wasn’t.

Cale is bleeding from basically every orifice of his body.

And his too far away for _____ to accurately see if he's okay.

“I’ll leave the rest to you knight-nim, I must assist our Commander.”

So the healer runs. 

They run the fastest they’ve ever had in their entire left. _____ ran so fast they got there before the healers could.

“__– healer-nim you shouldn’t be here.” 

Countess Violan made sure that the healer’s hood and mask were still intact. The fabric on their face had been removed to aid catch their breath from running. Good thing the hood was still intact so it’s unlikely that anyone has seen their face.

“Countess Violan It’ll be fine. Our priority should be the Commander right now.”

_____ has no way of knowing how at that moment, the Henituse’s respect for them grew even more.

The healer turned to Cale to see him talking to what seemed like the air. That must be why his parents are even more worried right now. It looks like the redhead is hallucinating.

Good thing _____ knows the truth. They know that he isn’t hallucinating and that he isn’t talking to thin air. Good thing they know that the words the young master was uttering are directed at a certain invisible dragon.

"It's fine now, I'll be supporting too."

Those words may seem like it was directed at the Countess and Cale but it was directed towards Raon. It's the healer's way of saying that everything will be fine so Raon better follows Cale's instructions.

_____ can’t see Raon nor can they hear his voice in their head, but they’re sure that the dragon has quieted down since Cale had stopped muttering

“Does healer-nim need help?”

The territory’s healer finally arrived. Meanwhile, _____ has not only aided Cale’s vitality of the heart, but they were also healing Choi Han while supporting Mary.

“Yes please.”

Short responses are the only thing _____ can form right now. They must focus all their strength on supporting three people. Choi Han is especially hard to heal. It’s because the Medicus had only known long-distance healing in theory and had never tried it in person.

The far away and moving Choi Han proved to be a difficult patient but _____ is certain that his recovering little by little from the wounds they are slowly absorbing. 

Drip

Drip

It’s a good thing the colour coding for this event is black. Even as blood drips down their sleeves no one would notice from far away.

But not the people near the Medicus.

Cale’s hand that had been holding onto _____’s arms tightened at the blood dripping down the ground. On the bright side, they are now certain that Choi Han’s shoulder wound is getting better.

Meanwhile, supporting Mary is easier but still proves to be a bit of a challenge. The Medicus has to support her as stealthily as possible to not give away her location. Usually whenever _____ uses her ancient power droplets of water would appear. Then they would cover those droplets with their light ability. 

But they can’t do that right now.

Both would be too flashy and would reveal the necromancer’s location.

So they did the next best thing. Which was making their power travel through the cracks of the ground and the wall.

Doing this while doing long-distance healing and supporting the Vitality of the Heart made _____ use more power and energy than they usually would.

“Leave some of the work to the healers and priests.”

The still pale, but doing much better now, Cale whispered. _____ looked at him to assess his condition using their power. 

“I’m okay Commander, and it looks like you’ll be okay soon too.”

_____ heard Cale sigh but ignored it. Seeing that his being ignored, Cale proceeded to gather himself so he could stand up again.

And that made the healer relieved.

Sure they knew his fine. _____ knows that the young master has a regeneration power. But seeing him being in commission again made it feel real. Especially after seeing them bleed that much.

That relief was short-lived.

Because tell _____ why was the first thing Cale did was use his powers again. The healer swears that one day Cale is gonna give them a heart attack.

Fortunately, the healer and the redhead have similar temperaments. Both can work well under immense stress and pressure while making it seem like they aren’t breaking that much sweat. Thanks to that _____’s composure didn’t falter and they were able to do what they needed to.

Choi Han is still a problem though. Because of the distance, the healer can’t fully heal him.

‘If only I was stronger’

_____ tries to push unnecessary thoughts away.

‘If only I was a saint’

Just as _____ was about to get pulled in by their thoughts, they felt a familiar chubby paw on their shoulder.

“Kind _____ hang in there a bit more, we’re close to winning! I’m going to go help out Choi Han now okay?”

Raon’s bright voice had served as a wake-up call for _____. Thanks to him the healer can fully focus on their task until the very end.

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I didn’t know I could too.”

Cale and _____ are currently on their way to the underground dungeon. Both of them are pale and their clothes are covered with blood but they are walking as if nothing’s wrong.

“When you were at the Paerun Kingdom I started thinking of my powers in a different light, and this was the conclusion of that.”

“But doing this is harder for your body right?”

“As if, you’re one to talk.”

_____ laughed as they saw Cale scrunch his nose at the comment.

“Yes it’s harder but it’s very useful at times like this. It's all thanks to the anatomy books Ron bought for me. Having a more in-depth idea as to how our bodies work allowed me to assess them even from far away.

It’s good to know that as long as someone is within my eyesight I can heal them. Haaa, but I must say, healing Choi Han-nim while he was riding those flying bones is hard.”

Both of them stopped at the entrance of the underground dungeon.

“Since it’s hard and you overexerted yourself, does this mean you’ll leave Choi Han in the hands of other healers?”

The healer laughed again as they waved goodbye. There’s no way Cale is allowing them to enter the dungeon and they have better things to do.

“No promises Cale.”

And if one of those ‘better things to do’ is healing Choi Han, then Cale can find out for himself later.

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Spider-Man

if you wanna be my lover (you gotta get with my friends) by mindshelter

MJ still remembers Ned’s initial disbelief when Peter—infamous for missing class back in sophomore year, suspended for two weeks freshman year—finished his bit of the group write-up four days early. The work was perfect, and so was Ned's chemistry grade. After that it was Peter this, Peter that, Peter parted the Red Sea, it’s true, MJ, I was there; I saw it. MJ, hey, are you listening?

Then Ned says, “We should invite Peter to join AcaDec.”

or; peter isn’t rock bottom on midtown’s social ladder; he’s underground. friendless, rumoured to get into street fights. ned declares him bestie material anyway, and mj catches feelings.

she also meets tony stark(?) in foodtown, of all places, and makes a spider-man(??) sighting.

M!ik

law of insomnia by thewunderkind

אנחנו נפגשים שוב” "I'm sorry, I do not understand," And then Iruma lowers himself, getting on his knees and bowing until his forehead meets the ground.

Or the one wherein they're soulmates and only Alice is aware of what is happening.

DC

how's it go again? by timdrakesuperspy

Tim Drake's universe is falling apart. He's surprised when he doesn't fall with it, due only to Mr. Mxyzptlk's misplaced feeling of debt. He's even more surprised when the imp crash-land him in the middle of the Wayne family's dinner.

OR: After Tim fails to bring back enough proof that Bruce isn't dead, his life sucks. So of course the universe falls apart. So of course a nosy interdimensional imp decides to intervene and send Tim to a universe unnervingly off from his.

the back corner booth by destiny919

"Hey, Hood," Rhys says seriously. "I've got something for you, but it's a little outside your usual service range."

Jason raises his eyebrows under the helmet. He never gets kids from outside the Alley, if only because they have no way of meeting one of his liaisons, or any reason to trust the Red Hood. "How far outside?"

Rhys smirks. "Not too far. Just Bristol."

Jason really, really hopes his appalled expression is coming through the helmet.

SVSSS

to find an intended (a bit unintentionally) by nyoomerr

It takes about five minutes after they first meet for Shen Yuan to start flirting with Luo Binghe. Aggressively, too, in a way that even some of Luo Binghe’s most frequent bed partners wouldn’t dare to. It’s shocking and infuriating and, unfortunately, Luo Binghe finds himself charmed.

Too bad Shen Yuan doesn’t actually know that his actions come off as demon-flirting in the first place.

Clone Wars

an ill-advised gift by S_C_G

The Senate tries their hand at some regime change in the Mandalore sector.

It doesn't go well.

The Senate tries their hand at sending a gift to better relations and buy some time.

They couldn't have made a worse choice.

Or, the Senate gives the Mand'alor a child. This, quite predictably, backfires.

let me lie with you by MadMothMadame

The War is over. With the Sith conspiracy uncovered, and Sepratists suing for peace, Obi-Wan knew things would not be the same as they were before. Some changes would be for the worse, but when he thought about Cody, and all they had the potential to become now that rank and the weight of war no longer had to stand between them-

Well, some change could only be for the better.

He should have known better.

[fanaticsnail]

Left Behind - Snails Rambling Fic Thoughts

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @sordidmusings @writingmysanity

Notes: I think I like writing fanfic and rambling about this so much because I really got into playing mermaids, fae and princesses as a child 💀.

Also, considering the last thoughts I had on this concept was on Kid's side, I wanted to know how it would look from the other perspective.

Not a fic, just purely a concept - but a long one.

Okay, okay, okay.

But imagine being a Kid-Pirate who was left behind by your captain after he declared he was going to take on Red-Haired Shanks. He left you behind, specifically, because you were the only one who opposed him.

“That is the stupidest fucking idea you've ever had,” you'd voice your reprimand alongside your concern, “He is one of the emporers. He has a crew far stronger than we are. He has an Armada he could call for backup. His Haki is-.”

And after you've aired your opposition, Eustass Kid brushes them aside; convincing you that he'd given up on the idea. He sends you away to gather inventory, casting off and weighing anchor the minute you're out of sight.

And then the chaos, the havok, the injury, the mayhem.

Suddenly your captain is missing an arm, his skin is scorched and mutilated. There's crewmen missing, there's so much blood.

After you regroup with your troop, you rush to your captain and embrace him as he falls to his knees. He whispers between sobs, clutching at your shirt with his remaining fist.

“You were right,” he attempts to embrace you completely, his phantom limb joining behind your back as he attempts to join his wrists together, “You were right. I should have listened. I should have never left you behind.”

He expects your scolding, he expects your wrath, he expects, awaits and anticipates the screams of fury erupting from your lungs.

In it's stead, all you do is lower your tone and elevate his face with your two hands caressing his scarred skin. His cheeks were streaked with tears, his eyes full of glossy sorrow. You’d glare down at him through half-hooded lashes, your lip curling up as your silent rage begins in a low whisper.

“I will destroy them,” you'd confess in a tone darker than the dead of night, “They will bend until they break, their blood will ignite beneath the flames of my wrath.”

Eustass Kid would never see a rage akin to this for as long as he lives. A rage that fuelled your retribution enough to have you break away from your crew and live in solitude while you trained and readied your body to weaponize your grief .

He had left you behind, after all. Why should you continue to claim him as captain as he so easily was able to cast you aside? Although now he is no longer captain to you, he will always be mentioned in the same breath as ‘friend,' or even 'lover.'

Names, faces and titles would be committed to memory. Your persona as an assassin to invoke your revenge would have you take new names and titles of your own. You would practice by taking out some lesser captain's and their crews, claiming bounties and training against Haki-users to develop one of your own.

When you finally feel ready enough to begin picking off members of the Red-Hair pirates, Shanks immediately would sense a game is afoot. He would start off by having his sharp-shooter constantly be on guard and ready for you. That would be fine, you'd trained your body to work tirelessly. Had Yasopp? The closure of his eyes and the slow rise and fall of his chest would state otherwise.

Although it would be far easier to take out their Doctor or their Chef first, your eyes would immediately draw their focus to the first mate. What is a pinky toe to the whole body of a crew? Why should you devote your time to such digits, when you had a window to take out Shanks’ right hand first?

As you'd disguise yourself beneath the shroud of Beckman's shadow, your shock would be adamant when a slow chuckle rattled in his smoke-riddled lungs. As you’d elevated your dagger, readying your blade to strike him in the back, he'd speak up.

“So this is the one that was left behind?” he'd sigh drawing up the filter end of his cigarette, placing it in his lips, “The Kid-Pirate that stood up to their Captain. Left behind for showcasing nothing but loyalty.”

You'd halt your plunge, feeling Beckman’s Haki begin to ignite and compel your body to bend to his will. You'd shake it off, readying yourself to dive forward and take out the larger man once again.

“You took his arm,” your dark, venomous confession would ignite a small amount of fear in the base of his spine, “You mutilated my crew.”

“Aye, that I did,” Beckman would confess, a man of honor amongst invoking such violence, “But you were left behind. Are they really your crew if they left you so easily?”

“They loved me,” your reflection would cause your heart to flutter, and lip to quiver.

“Or did they think you too weak to carry out the task?” his ignition of the flint-lock lighter would break you from your trance, eyes narrowed and glaring at him as he would turn to meet you.

“I don't think you're weak,” Beckman’s confession would have you stumble more, not anticipating praise as your blade now met against his wide chest.

“And why should I care what you think?” you'd spit at him, drawing your body closer as the threat of your blade made its steel kiss the pectoral above his heart, “You're the enemy. You hurt him, my crew, and you deserve death.”

“That may be true,” he'd confess, leaning against your blade to test the resolve of your threat, “But you deserve so much more than abandonment in response to your loyalty.”

“You deserve a crew that would have you'd back,” he'd continue, “A crew that would seek to train you up, uplift you, and never forsake you.”

“I suppose you mean ‘your crew,’ Beckman?” you'd snarl, your resolve beginning to crack and scatter, “I would rather die.”

“Join us. Learn from us, then leave us,” he'd suggest, “Return to your former captain," he'd exhale a long breath of smoke away from your face, "See if they're worthy of having you as their family, or if you'd rather stay with a new, more respectful, one."

Tldr: Eustass Kid abandoned you, returning only when he was defeated and asking for your forgiveness. You didn't grant him forgiveness, but offered him retribution instead. Training for 3 long years, you had finally readied yourself to destroy the red-hair pirates. As you were about to invoke it, you were offered a place amongst the crew you swore you'd defeat. They want to train you to be better than them, a wildcard in a world of piracy.

[idontgiveaflyinggrayson69]

and we're taking parking lot risks

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 & KO / @thirteenisles

Tagging: @smileysvech @pyotrkochetkov @hoesforthecanes @hockeywritingcollection

Relationship: Andrei x Kat

Warning: Smut. Unprotected sex. Daddy kink. Sexual choking

Summary: Andrei deserves a little treat after his first game back.

Word Count: 4k

Comments: Yes, I know this is late and now he’s out AGAIN. But let’s not focus on that and instead focusing on how happy he and Kat were when he came back (the first time). xx

(gif by Queen Katie @pyotrkochetkov, i couldn't find it in the search and i HAD to use this gif because HE'S FLEXING HIS TITTIES LIKE FUCK DREI)

Kat pulled her hand from Andrei’s to lean against the hood of his lambo and she bit her lip as she gripped his tie and pulled him closer. “You should fuck me here,” she told him and ran her other hand down his chest to palm him through his slacks.

His jaw went slack as his eyes widened. “In the garage?”

She shook her head as she hummed. “No, let’s drive out to the main parking lot and you can fuck me on the hood of your lambo. How does that sound, big boy?”

Andrei raised his brows, but the corner of his lip twitched up as he bit his lip before he cupped her throat and kissed her deeply. He swallowed her moan and pressed himself flush against her. “I have no idea what I did to deserve you,” he said against her lips.

“I ask myself the same thing,” she replied, voice muffled by his lips, and she tried to pull him closer by his tie. “Would it help to know I’m not wearing panties?”

There was nothing gentle about the way Andrei hiked her dress up her hips and pushed her legs open before he groaned loudly. She wasn’t kidding. “Fuck me, kisa,” he groaned.

“I’m trying,” she giggled. “Lots of time to make up for. And lots to celebrate.” Her smile softened as she ran her hand up to cup the back of his neck, “it was really nice to see you on the ice again, Drei.”

He hummed but didn’t pull his eyes from her pussy as he bit his lip. She hadn’t let him go down on her since he cut his chin open, and he wondered if he’d be able to convince her to let him eat her pussy tonight. But Kat tugged at his hair and forced his gaze up as she gave him a stern look. “Don’t even think about it. You got stitches on your chin; we’re not risking an infection.”

Andrei rolled his eyes and mumbled his displeasure in Russian. “Killin’ me, kisa. You know how much I love being right here,” he said and cupped her pussy in his big hand.

She was already wet for him; she had been for most the game thinking about her plan and she moaned softly. “I love it just the same, but you just got back on the ice, baby. I don’t need to be blamed for an infection because someone got cum in their stitches.”

“Would be worth it,” he mumbled and easily pressed two thick fingers into her, and he smirked when she gasped loudly. He curled his fingers up, teasing her g- spot before he pulled his fingers from her and brought them to his lips, licking them clean with a low moan.

His eyes darkened as Kat looked up at him with flushed cheeks. He wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her to her feet before he opened the passenger door and helped her in, and he practically ran around the car to get into the driver’s seat. The car barely had time to turn on before he put it in gear and started out of the garage.

Kat laughed at his eagerness, but she couldn’t deny the butterflies in her stomach. They were actually doing this. This had to be one of the most risqué́ things they had ever done, and it really turned her on. It really turned both of them on. Andrei was hard in his slacks as he drove out to the parking lot with his lip between his teeth, one hand on the wheel while the other rested high on Kat’s thigh, underneath that gorgeous little mini red dress she wore just for him.

The moment she stepped out in it earlier he had been ready to take her right then and there. All he had to do it push that little skirt up and sink into her, but she wouldn’t let him. She told him it would be worth the wait, but he didn’t realize what she had up her sleeve.

They pulled out of the tunnel and Andrei circled around and found a parking spot at the back of a nearly empty lot. It felt like it took forever but it was dark and

perfect. As soon as he turned the car off, Kat leaned over the center console and pulled him in for a kiss by his tie.

He moaned against her lips and easily hauled her onto his lap before he pushed her dress up so she could straddle him comfortably. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body against his, grinding down on his cock. Ever since the doctor gave them the okay, she had been utterly insatiable. She wanted Andrei constantly. She needed Andrei constantly. Not that he was complaining in the slightest.

He kneaded her ass and moaned loudly against her lips. He was half tempted to just undo his slacks and let her ride him just like that, but he stopped himself. He wanted to take her on the hood. Ever since he got the lambo he wanted to fuck her on the hood, but he hadn’t had the chance until now.

“Kat, baby,” he whispered against her lips, his accent thick. She ran her hands up his chest as she kissed his neck and hummed and response.

“I need you. I know you can feel how bad I need you,” he groaned under her touch and fisted her hair gently to pull her back so he could look at her. His eyes were dark, and cheeks flushed, and she nipped at his bottom lip.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I want you to fuck me on the hood of your car.”

He groaned loudly and let her open the door. She nearly fell out of the car as she stumbled on her heels, but Andrei caught her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and steadied her as he guided her to hood of the car.

She leaned back against the hood and pulled him flush against her by his tie before she kissed him deeply. Andrei easily took control of the kiss as he reached between them to undo his pants and he groaned in relief before he untucked his shirt and pressed himself flush against her.

“Fuck me,” Kat whispered and nipped at his lower lip. “Take what’s yours.”

Andrei groaned as he nodded before he pulled at his tie and let it drop to the ground and quickly undid his shirt. He kissed her deeply and gripped her hips to hoist her up onto the hood. He only broke the kiss to pull her legs around his waist before he pushed his boxers down to free his cock.

“I don’t have a condom,” he confessed as he ran the tip of his cock over her slit, his eyes locked on her pussy before he lined himself up with her entrance.

“Then pull out.” She replied through clenched teeth, “come on, Drei. We don’t have all night.”

He didn’t need to be told twice and pressed into her, groaning as loud as Kat moaned. She felt so fucking good around him, and he knew she could take it so he didn’t bother to take his time and he bottomed out quickly before he kissed her roughly.

She moaned against his lips and locked her ankles together, pulling him closer. He stumbled over and braced himself on the car hood, one hand on either side of her head as he rocked into her, only able to pull out halfway with how tight she held onto him.

“Drei. Fuck, Drei,” she moaned. The only thing she could focus on was him and the pleasure he gave her.

“You have no idea how fucking hot you are letting me fuck you on the lambo,” he groaned before he nipped at her bottom lip. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“I’d let you fuck me anywhere,” she moaned. “I’m yours, Andrei. All fucking yours.”

“All mine,” he agreed and fucked her harder, trying to get deeper and her eyes rolled back. Between the feeling of him, the coolness of the car and the thrill of maybe getting caught, it was overwhelming in the best way.

“I’m close,” she moaned as she fluttered around him.

“I know,” he breathed. He could feel her fluttering around him, and he took her hands in his and pinned them above her head as he pressed his chest against hers. “I want you to cum for me. I need you to cum for me, kisa.”

That changed the angle enough that he brushed her g-spot and it sent her over the edge. His hips stuttered and he cursed in Russian, but he fucked her through it. She felt so indescribably amazing, and he moaned loudly as his rhythm got sloppy. He was close, too.

He kissed her again, needing to feel as much of her as possible and she tightened her legs around him as she clenched down on him, and it sent him over the edge. He didn’t even bother to try to pull out as he came, pressing his body into hers, pinning her between him and the car as he filled her up.

They stayed like that for a long moment before Kat loosened her grip on him and he released her wrists as they caught their breath before he kissed her again, softer than before. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he said against her lips.

“So are you, Andrei,” she smiled and kissed him again. “I love you so much. I’m so glad you’re doing what you love again.”

“I’m glad I am, too,” he hummed and rolled his hips into hers again, smirking as her breath caught in her throat. “Very happy to be doing you again.”

She giggled before she bit her lip. “Round two?” She suggested with a grin, “bend me over the car this time?”

Andrei’s smirk slipped as his jaw went slack but he nodded. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re trying to drain me, kisa.”

“Maybe I am,” she giggled and pulled the straps of her dress down and smirked when his eyes immediately went to her chest.

His cock twitched inside her as he groaned loudly before he leaned in to kiss down her chest. Her breasts had gotten so big from nursing, and he couldn’t get enough of them. He loved her breasts before but now they were so big and sensitive, and he loved them so much. If he had to keep knocking her up to keep her breasts like this, he absolutely would.

Kat sighed contently and ran her fingers through his hair as she arched into him. He nipped at her soft flesh and shamelessly left little marks in his wake for him to enjoy on her when she nursed later, all little reminders that he was the only one who could make her feel so good; that she belonged to him and only him.

She purposely clenched around him as she tried to encourage him, a little more bossy than normal. “Come on, I know you want to bend me over the hood and fuck me,” she told him.

“I do,” he agreed, but it was almost painful for him to pull out of her when he was already hard again. He bit his lip as he watched the way she clenched around nothing, and he couldn’t help himself.

If Kat got mad at him, well, it would be worth it.

“Come on,” she repeated and whined as she started to turn herself over, but Andrei forced her back onto her back before he got down on his knees. “Andrei—” She started, but her protested died the moment his tongue pressed against her pussy.

It was no secret Andrei knew how to eat pussy, but every circle of his tongue around her clit felt heavenly. Not that focusing on her clit was enough for him. Day and night Andrei dreamt of her taste, and he forced her legs open further, needing more of her. He moaned loudly as he ran his tongue over her slit, absolutely addicted to the taste of her.

Kat moaned loudly as her hand splayed along the hood looking for something, anything, to hold onto, but all she found was the smooth, cool hood of Andrei’s lambo. “Drei,” she moaned and rocked her hips up against his mouth, seeking more, needing more.

He moaned against her and roughly pinned her hips back down against the hood of his car and looked up at her with dark, hungry eyes. She whined when he pulled back, but it was only to spit on her pussy and he chuckled at the way her body shuddered before he dove back in and fucked her with his tongue, moaning at the way she fluttered around his tongue.

He could taste himself on her as his cum started to leak out of her, but that only made him harder. His cum was buried deep inside her and if he was lucky enough, it would give them another baby. That thought alone forced his tongue as deep inside her as he could as he tried to force his cum back inside her.

“Drei,” she moaned again, and her legs tightened around his head. He was rough as he forced them open, and she reached down to grip his hair. “Yes!” She cried, not caring who heard or who saw him make her feel so good.

He looked up at her with dark eyes, loving how blissed out she was. He loved how desperate she was for him, how loudly she moaned as he dug his fingers into her skin, and he surely left bruises along her thighs and hips.

Already sensitive from her first high, Kat moaned loudly and her second high built quickly. Andrei knew it as he felt her flutter around his tongue. He tried to pull her impossibly closer and ran his hand up her body to palm her breast. As soon as he pinched her nipple, it sent her over the edge. She shamelessly rolled her hips against his face, and he moaned loudly as she came. He desperately tried to pull her closer, wanting every drop of their mixed cum as he tried to draw out her high as long as he could.

Slowly, her moans turned to whines and she tugged hard on his hair, which only made him groan loudly against her. She clenched hard around nothing and rolled her hips back against his face. She needed more than his sinful mouth.

But she should have known Andrei wanted more than just one orgasm. One was never enough for Andrei.

Andrei pulled her closer wanting another high from her before he fucked her again. His grip tightened and he laid his arm over her hips to keep her still and his eyes closed as he focused on the taste of her.

It didn’t take much for her to cum again, pinned between him and the hood of his lambo. She gripped his hair as she moaned his name, but his tongue only emphasized her aching emptiness.

Andrei moaned as he drew her high out but as soon as she tugged desperately at his hair, he pulled back, his lips and chin shiny with her cum as he gripped her hips and forced her over, so her chest was pressed against the hood.

The skirt of her dress was hiked up around her hips and Andrei stepped back for a moment to admire the view. She clenched around nothing as she whined but he reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out and snapped a quick picture. When they got home, he’d add it to the secret folder he uses when he’s on the road and away from Kat.

“Quite the view, kisa,” he told her as he put his phone back in his pocket before he smacked her ass. “So fucking perfect.”

She gasped and pushed back against him. “Come on, big boy,” she teased and wiggled her ass. “Fuck me.”

“I will,” he groaned and squeezed her ass before he lined his cock up with her entrance and he slid in easily. She was so much wetter now that she had cum three times and was full of his cum and he loved it. He gripped her hip in one hand and her hair in the other. “You’re a dream come true,” he said, his words slurring together as he moaned.

She didn’t have anything to hold onto so all she could do is moan as Andrei pinned her to the car as he fucked her. “Jesus, fuck, oh my god,” she moaned loudly. She was so sensitive from her first three highs and her fourth was building quickly as he hit her g-spot with every thrust.

“No, not Jesus, just Drei,” he smirked and tightened his grip on her hip, wanting to leave fingerprint bruises on her pretty perfect skin.

“Harder, fuck me harder,” she begged and bit her lip. “Fuck me like you mean it, Daddy.”

He released her hair but only to wrap his hand around her throat, pulling her back against his chest as he fucked her harder, getting impossibly deeper before he bit down on her shoulder. “Keep talking like that and Daddy’s gonna have to put that dirty mouth to work,” he replied, his accent thick with lust.

Her eyes widened as she gasped. She knew she’d get a reaction out of him, but she didn’t expect it to be so good and she clenched hard around him as she came. Andrei’s jaw went slack but he fucked her through it, drawing her high out as much as he could.

“Yeah?” He asked breathlessly. “You like the idea of Daddy fucking your mouth right here where anyone could see?” His accent was thick as he fucked her hard and deep. He was so close himself, but he knew he could get another one out of her first.

Kat could barely get her words out, all of them slurred together. “Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted. The thought of being on her knees, practically naked and in her heels, sucking his cock where anyone could catch them? Yeah, she wanted that. She needed that.

He bit her neck again. “Cum on Daddy’s cock one more time and I’ll let you lick your own cum off my cock.”

“Fuck,” she whined loud enough that anyone a mile away could have heard her. “I’m so close, Daddy.”

He grazed his teeth over her jaw and tugged at her hair. “Cum for me, cum for Daddy, kisa.”

Her eyes rolled back, and her jaw went slack in a silent scream as she came hard, soaking his cock as she squirted, hands grasping desperately at the hood of the car looking for anything to hold onto as she shuddered.

“Fuck,” he moaned and rested more of his weight on her as is eyes closed. “Oh fuck, kisa.” His voice was breathy and the feeling of her cum literally dripping

down his balls sent him over the edge. He moaned loudly and buried his face into her neck as he came hard, filling her up again.

He shuddered above her and he needed a minute to catch his breath before he smoothed her hair back and kissed her jaw. “So good for me,” he praised her.

She couldn’t even talk; she was completely boneless. All she could do was gently grip his wrist and lean into his touch. She spent all night fantasizing about this, but she hadn’t expected it to go as well as it did. She had a plan in mind, but this exceeded it in every way.

He kissed her temple and ran his other hand up and down her side. “So, you don’t want to clean me up, huh?” He teased with a laugh and kissed her temple again as he pulled her closer.

It took her a moment to find her words. “Give me a moment you literally just fucked my brains out,” she replied, her voice breathy.

“Oh, did I?” He asked innocently but his smirk grew, and he squeezed her gently as he held her close.

She gave him a small smile and melted into his touch before she tapped his hand and pushed back against him. She moaned as it pushed his cock deeper inside her before wincing as he pulled out and she immediately clenched at the emptiness. She was shaky as she sunk down to her knees in front of the car and opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out for him.

Andrei’s eyes fluttered. He didn’t know if he had the stamina to go again, especially after his first game back, but seeing her on her knees, all fucked out with her make up smeared, he could feel himself start to harden again. “Fuck me,” he groaned in Russian and guided the tip of his cock to her tongue.

She wrapped her lips around the tip and hallowed her cheeks and she moaned around him as he guided himself further into her mouth. “Such a filthy girl,” he moaned. “Such a slut, letting me bend you over my car and fuck your pussy and now on your knees sucking my cock in an empty parking lot. What would you do if someone caught us, huh? Let them watch or would you shy away?”

She moaned around him and ran her hands up his thighs to grip his ass. She’d let them watch. Nothing would stop her from making him feel good.

He gripped her hair, “yeah, you’re such a little slut you’d let them watch. Let them watch as I pleasure you. No one could fuck you the way I do.” His accent got heavier and thicker as he spoke, every bob of her head pushing him closer. He wasn’t going to last, and she knew that.

Her nails dug into his ass as she moaned around him, tasting a mix of their cum on his cock. He was absolutely right. No one else could ever make her feel this good.

“Kisa, fuck—" He couldn’t even warn her before he came again, and he pulled at her hair as he came down her throat. It wasn’t as much cum given that it was his third orgasm of the night, but it was so intense he had to put his free hand on the edge of the hood to steady himself as his knee threatened to give out.

She completely drained him, but she moaned around him nonetheless and it was only when his moans turned to deep little whimpers that she pulled back to trace her tongue over the head of his cock, sure to get every last drop of his cum.

He said it multiple times, but he honestly didn’t know how he got so lucky to have her. He gently pulled back and then quickly pulled his pants up before he helped her off the ground. He knew the asphalt wasn’t good for her knees and he bent down to brush her knees off, even after she told him she was okay. His eyes were soft as he stood back up before he kissed her slowly. She smiled as she kissed him back before he pulled away to fix her dress.

He’d always look after her. Always.

“Come on, kisa, let’s go home,” he smiled softly, and she hummed as she leaned into him and let him guide her to the passenger door, which he of course opened for her.

After he closed her door, he chased his tie down which had blown over a few parking spots before he came around and got into the driver’s side. Kat immediately tried to lean into him and rest her head on his shoulder and he kissed her temple before he reached behind them to grab the blanket he kept in the back just for her.

“Here baby,” he whispered and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.

She smiled and leaned up to kiss him. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I know it’s late, but could we maybe take a bath after checking up on the twins when we get home?”

Andrei’s smile softened as he nodded. “Nothing is ever too late for you, my Katarina,” he whispered and kissed her again.

Kat’s smile grew and she ran her hand up his strong thigh. “Then let’s go home.”

[heartthrobin]

blue light (2)

miguel o’ hara x villain!reader

wc: 4.9k

warnings: fem!reader, reader can manipulate electricity, can teleport via lightning, age-gap (reader is early 20's), miguel is (slightly less) emotionally constipated, angst, swearing, jealous miguel, stalkerish behaviour, reader is a bit of a meanie (she's a villain after all), drinking, classic college kid shenanigans, implied one night stand, reader is highkey stubborn (she’s been hurt let’s not judge), happy ending this time i promise

an: next part to yellow light! i hate leaving stories with an unhappy ending so i had to work this out :) also the taglist was formed from this post before anyone asks again. remember to repost to support your fav writers !!

summary: someone's following you. you can feel it. like tiny spiders crawling over your shoulder when you sit too still.

part one

jumping between dimensions is exhausting work.

fuck what any spider-person had to say, they have fancy little watches that let them drift between earths as they pleased. they should try falling through a super collider every once in a while, not to even mention the glitching. like every molecule in your body is being ripped apart and reattached with wet wood glue.

and all that pain for a man. the notion makes you sick.

fuck Miguel too. fuck him especially.

you'd blasted him through the concrete face of a building in spite. the thought made you chuckle. he deserved it, that bastard.

when you returned from earth-8901, you slept over most of the next few days.

only closer to the end of the week had you dragged yourself from the depths of your bed to class. assignments glared at you from under the hood of your shut laptop and the professor's voice drifted over your head where it was hunched down over the scribbled outline of a scheme to cut power across the city.

you sketch a tiny little you in the corner, if you were a better illustrator someone may have been able to make out the tiny figure laughing maniacally at the panic she's induced.

scheming is fun. it lets you forget for the red and blue shadow that haunts your mind, if only for a few minutes at a time.

there's a coffee shop on the route back to your apartment and inter-dimensional travel has you jet-lagged enough to push it's doors open. a chime fills the space.

you stop most days just for a coffee, if you've made a recent hit at a bank on the other side of town you'll spoil yourself to a sandwich or a smoothie. but as it turns out, the money on earth-8901 is all purple bills. useless memorabilia hogging space on your study desk.

behind the counter is a fresh face. a handsome face.

he smiles at you and it's dazzling enough to prompt you into returning it. there's a name-tag against his black work shirt, Tobey, and he has dreads pulled up into a bunch at the top of his head.

you lean over the counter more than you would normally and his eyes follow your figure where it's divided by the countertop.

"hm. first week?" you prompt.

"indeed."

"how's it going?"

his eyes wash down your body again before returning to your gaze. "well. very well."

when you leave the shop there's a number written on the side of your cup with smudged black marker and a "give me a call -Tobey :)"

the ink stains the pads of your fingers. you consider the number the whole walk home.

by the time you reach your door, you've decided that you'll be calling him. that it's a good idea to start engaging with men in your dimension, as opposed to six foot nine assholes with sturdy shoulders ... and swirling brown eyes ... and a soft temperament despite how desperately he tries to hide it--

you slam your door, leaving that thread of thought on your welcome mat.

-

New York has already dimmed to a fuzzy black, perforated by city lights of every colour when you perch yourself on the edge of your bed. the city hums and the tune drifts in through your open window.

your cup from earlier is empty where you hold it up and dial the number written against it.

it rings twice before a static voice carries over the line. "hello?"

"Tobey?"

"speaking."

you tuck your knee up against the bed. in the low light, your glow emanates into the space. "i just called to say that i think you accidentally wrote your number on the side of my cup."

he chuckles. it's hard to make out, but then again most calls are tough when you're holding the phone with the same touch that could cut power to the pentagon.

"not a mistake, sweet-cheeks."

your nose crinkles. you hope the nickname isn't gonna stick.

but you press on, "that so? well, pray tell. why am i phoning you?"

"you're phoning so we can talk about when i'm taking you out."

"usually that discussion is preceded by actually asking me if i want to go out with you."

"i'm sure that--"

there's a crunch beyond the window.

the unmistakable crumble of concrete, accompanying dust cascading to settle on your sill in a tiny pile.

you squint, your apartment is on the eleventh floor. there's no way anyone could--

the phone falls, clattering to land across the dial.

spider-man.

your palms warm, you feel the surge of power rising where it's settled most days just beneath your skin. fingertips prickling with electricity, desperate to come reaching out - the bedside lamp dims as you brighten. your light casts shadows across the room.

"uhm, hello?" the abandoned phone still hums.

you creep towards the ledge before leaping at it, knees connecting with the sill. your eyes chase around the view beyond the window.

the night is still. there's no sign of movement beyond the people down in the street.

just above your window, the source of the noise, there's a gash in the brick. four gashes, to be exact. like an animal had ripped into the stone, like ... like claws.

your heart sinks into your stomach. the night is still unmoving.

-

it's thursday afternoon and the sidewalk is busy. you think that if one more person knocks into your side you're gonna zap them across the street.

Tobey hasn't showed up yet.

"how's thursday? some lunch, twelve o' clock?"

it's already half-past. you think hard about zapping him too, the face he'll make when he's swallowing scalding hot mouthfuls of electricity.

as if drawn from your thoughts, Tobey's figure is bumping people down the walkway. he's jogging, panting between an apology as he nears.

"i-i'm so sorry," he's hunched over, hands on knees. "my car was totalled ... i had to call the cops and sort out a bunch of stuff--"

"you got into an accident?" your voice is more curious than concerned.

he shakes his head. "no, an animal. last night an animal or something attacked my car, it's completely wrecked."

you squint at him. "an animal? we live in Manhattan."

Tobey straightened out. "yeah, go figure. giant claw marks and everything, the car was on it's head when i found--"

"claw marks?" your interest peaked.

the sound at your window.

"yeah. the thing must have been huge, it flipped my car." he nods. "and the security cameras were malfunctioning over the time that it happened so i can't know for sure ..."

there's only one creature you know personally, the kind that lurks on New York rooftops, that can inflict that kind of damage.

you don't allow yourself to think any more on it. Miguel hasn't come to your dimension before, he's not starting now.

and here to do what? wreck Tobey from the coffee shop's car?

the thought settles the bubbling in your core.

"well. are we still getting lunch?"

-

nearly a week passes and the thought of Miguel haunts you no more than it usually does - which is generally in the space between each thought - but you've squashed the notion that he may be around.

"it's not good to jump too often between dimensions."

he'd said that once.

you bury yourself under the safe cover of assignments and tests. early classes and afternoons at library desks.

of course, there's always time for hobbies. cultivating a healthy school-social balance is reliant on a well-rounded lifestyle.

there's two security passed out in the corner. you would duct-tape them but you struck them with enough power to light a carnival for a week. they'd be out for a while.

you'd think the university student finance office would be unoccupied at almost nine at night. but seven or eight people huddle in the corner of the room, stragglers that had remained to do work after hours.

they press against each other in fear. you delight in it.

"it's not your guys' fault," you speak to the room. the lights flicker overhead. "i get it, it's the big corporations! but, that still affects the lives of students who can barely afford to pay for registration anymore--"

the computer system fizzles and sparks beneath your hand. monitors go black across the office, the remains of student financial documents dissolved into digital dust.

you'd deny the notion that you were doing all this for the "greater good". your own student fees were climbing, and just while you were here, there were a couple friends who could do without it too.

blue and red lights bounce off the side of your profile. sirens echo down the street.

"right." you dust your hands and look around. you're chuffed when you curtsy at them, ends of your short dress pinched between your fingertips. "that should be me done then. you all have a good night."

the buildings doors slide open where you push them. you're almost blinded by the cop car headlights.

they’d formed a lineup behind open car doors, guns aimed up at you.

“Statica!” a gruff voice called from the depths of the lights. “get on the ground and put your hands behind your head! you’re surrounded!”

you roll your shoulders, pretending to consider their offer. eventually you shook your head, “i don’t think so, sheriff. i’ve got class tomorrow, can’t be out too late.”

a crack of lightning rains from the sky and a nearby police car explodes, lifting a few feet off the ground and bursting into flames.

“well, i’ll be off.”

your hand raises to call down another bolt, one that would send you back to the sidewalk outside your apartment, when the officer calls again.

“drop your weapon!”

“my weapon?” you chuckle lowly, “you mean my hand—“

you’re cut short by a bang and a flash at the end of a standard police pistol.

several things happen at once:

a force hits you with enough power to force all your breath clean out your lungs. your body is thrown back against the sidewalk and your midriff grows warm. your hand finds your stomach, it's sticky there.

on the wall behind where you once stood, there's a gaping hole where the bullet that was supposed to be yours has dug a wide welt into the grey plaster.

"you missed!" a voice call somewhere beyond the flashing lights.

another shoot rings out, but you're gone in a shower of sparks before the bullet has chance to even graze your cheek.

you're back on the street outside your apartment building. the streetlamp buzzes above you.

your lungs are burning, grappling desperately for oxygen. your eyes find your stomach again:

where there should be blood and a bullet sized hole, instead is a tangled mess of white web. it's solidifying slowly over your yellow get-up.

"it ... there's no ways." you whisper, the only person out in the late night street.

your spider-man isn't going around pushing you out the way of police fire. he's probably off kissing babies and saving cats from trees.

no. this was someone else, and there's only one person-- but why would he be here?

your eyes find the line of rooftops as if Miguel's figure would crescent over your street. it doesn't. somewhere beyond them, a cop car whoops.

webbing is drying over your hand.

"fucking asshole."

-

you're being watched, all through the next day. all the way to friday, you can feel it. like tiny spiders crawling over your shoulder when you sit too still.

the heat of red eyes, they're never there when you look for them.

in the walks between classes, the breaks between sprawled over campus benches in the summer sun flittering out conversation riddled with classic complaints. i can't believe that fucking test, that twenty mark question at the end? is she crazy?

you've considered calling out. maybe he'd appear from the shadows, but you'd squashed the notion quickly. he didn't deserve your acknowledgement.

he's probably right chuffed with himself, saving you when you didn't need his interference. no. if he wants to lurk like a creep, let him!

but the thought weighed on you. your heart whined in the quiet dark of your room late at night. the empty space beside you, the prodding of a dream you'd long since killed: rising a grey soil-ridden hand out from the depths of it's grave.

it was never gonna work anyway. it was the thought that sent you into sleep.

friday night arrived like a cold glass of lemonade on a hot day.

you thrust your hips into your tiniest skirt and your chest through your prettiest top. your friends met you out on the sidewalk, already three drinks deep when you all spill into the muggy heat of the bar.

two vodka cranberries and three tequila shots under, the thought of Miguel dissipates. it's further incinerated by the warmth of the hand on your hip.

the man is tall - sure, not as tall as Miguel - and his blonde hair hung over his forehead. it didn't look soft, like how Miguel's did--

your grip tightened around the half-empty cup, thumb-sized welts melting through the plastic with the electric heat of your hand. shut up.

he brings you another drink. you chug it without another thought. he laughs and wipes at a red drop running down your chin with a cool hand. the bar swims around you in technicolour strobe lights and before you know it, the enthusiasm of the good times are whittling down to a thin thread.

"can i walk you home?"

you nod. he slips your hand in his and it's still too cool against your hot palm.

in the barely lit street, you wonder if he notices your glow. it wasn't so bright when you wanted it to be, but he was still too distracted by the tune of his own voice to notice.

"and we went down to the dock that day, there was a whole keg stand and we even--"

you think that maybe if you were as drunk as you were an hour ago that you'd have more energy to entertain him better. you nodded dumbly instead.

a quick in and out, you thought. you could tolerate him just for a few more hours if it meant he left your bed before the sun rises. he wasn't who you wanted, but he was here. and Miguel wasn't.

now that the alcohol in you was dwindling, not dead but dying, the melancholy of your situation was curling a cold hand up and making it hard to breath where it wrapped around your throat.

your building watched contemptuously down at you when you drew to a stop in front of it.

the man's, Cooper's, blue eyes draws circles over your face and his hand finds your waist again. he inches you closer.

"am i saying goodnight, or are you inviting me inside?"

you smile at him. it's faint and half-assed.

the rest of the night looms in your mind. could you really stand his Old Spice reeked conversation for another few hours? and would he really be able to get your mind off--

oh, oh. he's leaning in.

his thumb is pressing into the cavern of your cheeks, eyes pressing closed as rum-stifled breath nears your lips--

thwip. thwip.

there's a gust of air and a thump and Cooper is plastered to the side of your building in white webbing. his hands are pinned at his side, face white in shock.

your eyes widen. you teeter on shaky drunk legs, turning to face the rooftops where the darkness is blanketing over them and hiding where you know Miguel is lurking within.

alcohol infused rage claws up within you.

"O' Hara!" you scream out into the street. your hands heat, the streetlamp above flickering wildly under your influence. "you fucking asshole!"

your foot stamps against the concrete, hands racing up to your head and through your hair. "aaaghhh--!"

the bulb in the streetlight bursts. glass showers over your tantrum. it follows down the row of lights down the street, exploding in quick succession and sinking the sidewalk under an inky black cover.

you're now shining like a light on the mast of a fishing ship, casting a glow over the sea of tar. the spider is yet to emerge into your line.

"you are so full of shit! and if i see you again i will blast you through the whole city block, and this time you won't wake up--!"

"what the fuck--"

you turn with glowing eyes on the blonde bound to the wall, "shut up!"

thwip. his head bangs back against the brick where another web has sealed his mouth shut.

whipping back, your eyes find a shuffling figure over the next building. it's just a flicker of movement and then it's gone.

"ugh! you are so childish!"

you draw your hands over your face, running them down your cheeks and sigh. a couple deep breaths later and you can feel the heat of your power subsiding, it's dragging the anger down along with it.

"i'm going to bed." you mutter, patting down your skirt and fixing the edge of your shirt.

"mmpf--" Cooper moans against his restraints.

you'd just about forgotten about the man glued to your building. you cock your head at him.

"yeah ... well. good luck with that."

the buzzer echoes behind you when you shut the gate on his struggling.

-

it's hot when you wake up.

the covers are sticking to your legs and there's an itch in your throat for a tall glass of water. somewhere beyond the thrum of a headache against your forehead, you remember the bottle of water you set aside to cool in the fridge for this exact moment.

you groan when your feet hit the floor, the rush of blood to your head doing nothing to aid where your brain is pounding.

the apartment is warm with the soft glow of nearly morning. your alarm clock is flashing red - 05:02

orange light peeks over the counter when you pull your fridge open, the glare of starchy blue light pressing against your sensitive eyes. from the bottom drawer, you fish out the bottle and unscrew the cap.

you chug it down noisily, wet slurps echoing across the room. when you set it down you sigh, "god."

the image of your bed swims in your mind. the lure of the sheets calls to you again.

"princesa."

your back slams into the edge of the counter, "j-jesus--"

lurking in the corner by the door, wide shoulders out of place in the cramped apartment, stands Miguel O' Hara in his shiny red and blue suit.

your heart leaps into your throat, lodging there like a stone. you swallow around it. fuck, he looks so good.

"you," you stabilise the water bottle where it's spilt over the floor from your leap in fright. "what the hell are you doing here?"

he takes a step towards you. you press further back against the counter.

"i came to talk to you."

you guffaw, mouth slackening in amused disbelief. "talk? now you wanna talk?"

rising irritation flushes blood down to your legs, anger urges your steps forward all the way until your standing beneath him.

"you have been a pain in my ass for two weeks now--" you shove a finger into his hard chest, rising enough electricity to zap him but not enough to hurt. well, not hurt too much. he flinches.

"i've been a pain-- you electrocuted me through the side of a building?"

his face twisted, brow-bone hardening where he was glaring down at you.

"you deserved it. and i hope it hurt."

"it didn't."

"you're a liar."

silence rung into the space. you held your glare, but could feel it slowly softening. Miguel's hair was creeping over the edge of his forehead and his eyes had turned back to their chestnut brown that glittered in the sunlight peeking through the window.

he looked so ... so tame in this light. cramped into your apartment like he could belong there, like he could maybe be yours if you asked.

you broke first, turning away. "get out, Miguel." it was a whisper but you know he heard it.

"i need to talk to you."

you shook your head, refusing to meet his gaze again. "you had two weeks to talk, but instead you've been interfering in my life--"

"interfering? i saved you."

you huffed, forcing yourself to face him again. "saved me? saved me from what, a lunch date? a one night stand?"

at that, he turned away. face reddening. "i wouldn't have had to do that if you weren't going out with such fucking losers--"

"oh, pardon me for trying to find a date in my own dimension, someone who actually gives a shit about me.”

“i give a shit about you.”

you stilled. your lip wobbled against your will. “that’s not fair, Miguel.”

he shrunk the space by taking another step. “i came to apologise—“

you shook your head again. eyes finding the floor. against your sides, your palms were warming again: your next steps playing out in your mind.

another scalding hand to the chest, his body seizing underneath your palm and dragging his unconscious body out onto the street. probably come back and cry yourself back to sleep.

your hand rises.

“oh no,” thwip. thwip. “not this time, mi amor.”

just as he’d done to Cooper, your hands were plastered back against your apartment wall: splayed out against the cream paint job.

“this webbing thing is getting real fucking boring O’Hara—“

he was against you in an instant. warm, solid chest pressed against your pajama shirt. his hands came to cup your cheeks.

“i came to apologise.” you pressed your head back against the cold wall, eyes trained on the corner of the floor in your kitchen. it needed a vacuum. “i know i should have come when you asked. i know that.”

if you look at him, for even a second, you’d crumble and you knew it. your eyes were clouding, waterline wet.

a calloused finger ran slow and gentle down your jaw. “please look at me, princesa.”

you shook your head. a stray tear chased down, catching under the press of his finger.

“why don’t you go bother one of your other inter-dimensional girlfriends, Miguel.”

he growled at that, low and deep, and you’d be a liar if you said your knees didn’t buckle under the sound.

Miguel pressed forward: cheek to yours, hand digging welts into your hip.

“there’s no-one else. there’s only you, it’s only ever been you.”

you huffed at that, it curled at the edge with a humourless chuckle. “what, with this jawline and these muscles? i hope you don’t think i’m a fucking idiot.”

he caught the lobe of your ear between his teeth, pressing his body harder to yours, but you didn’t relent. your eyes fluttered against his heat, but stayed trained away from his shadowy figure.

“why are you so fucking difficult.” his breath was warm there. “you said prove it, Miggy, and i’m here proving it.”

“you’ve always known i was difficult.” you whisper, it’s more of an after-thought really.

he sighs, shoulders loosening just enough that you can make it out in the corner of your eye.

the flat column of his nose presses into your cheek. he nudges it there softly and it warms a pit deep inside you.

“sí, mi amor. lo sé.” hot lips press into your cheek and a whine escapes you before you can catch it. his thumb has reached up and is pressing into the space behind your ear.

his lips are traveling, just barely grazing your skin with pecks down your jaw. then to the column of your throat, to the bend between your shoulder and your neck.

“i know that … and you know that. and yet you still have no concept of how much trouble you make for me.” his voice swooping into the crevice of your collarbone. his teeth graze over that same spot. “how i can’t even work without thinking about you, watching every monitor hoping you’ll be in another dimension causing chaos so i can come find you and you can bat those pretty fucking eyelashes at me. can’t sleep. think about you lying beside me. about all the pretty noises i can draw from your pretty throat.”

his knee sinks to the ground, hitting the floor with a soft thump. the other follows shortly after.

that draws your gaze off the floor, eyes wide in surprise. they find the supple curls on the top of his head.

even on both knees, the crown of his head brushes under your nose.

the sight was widening the lump in your throat. it burnt to swallow.

“and yet you still never came.”

he shakes his head at that. gentle hands reach for the end of your pajama shirt, tugging it up slowly. Miguel leans forward and presses another kiss against the soft fat over your exposed hip.

you twitch against him, gasping at the heat of his lips over your cool skin. at your hands, your fingertips crackle with summoned energy. you can feel where the webbing is slowly melting under it’s press.

“‘s not true.” he says against you. “i’m here all the time.”

your shirt is being lifted higher as his head chases up your naked stomach, nipping at the skin where it freckles with goosebumps.

“i come to watch you—“

“that’s not creepy at all—“ you mutter, only teasing, and you’re punished with a particularly hard bite at your ribs.

“come because i miss your face and your laugh and …” he sighs, nudging his cheek against you. “god you make me fucking sick.”

there’s a squelch where the webbing has melted just enough for you to pry your hands from the wall, immediately grasping for the depths of Miguel’s hair.

“ever the romantic.” you huff. but you tug on his roots so he’s facing up to you, neck stretched deliciously with veins and hard muscle.

he’s blinking, lips parted as he waits for you.

“are you being serious, Miguel?” you ask quietly.

his eyes twinkle. “i am.”

you purse your lips, a smile creeping up into the corners of your mouth. your nails scrape over the crown of his head, trailing down to rest at the base of his neck. his eyes flutter shut against your hand.

“this might be the best apology i’ve ever received.”

he hums. “that’s good.”

“is it over, or should i let you finish? cause i’m kind of itching to kiss you right now.”

a smile of his own creeps over his face. it’s a sight you’ve maybe caught a glimpse of once in your life.

“i’m done.”

he leans up, persuaded by your touch reaching to cup his jaw. he’s almost at your mouth when he whispers again.

“you’re not gonna electrocute me for trying to kiss you again, are you?”

you laugh at that, his grip on your waist tightens at the sound. “you ever gonna let that go, old man?”

“old man?”

he surges forward, lips finding yours in a bruising kiss.

you giggle against him and your hands are everywhere: through his hair and down his shoulders and over his jaw. his tongue slips in against yours and it's saccharine like you'd always dreamed it to be. Miguel's hands race up your calves, behind your knees and hook beneath your thighs. he lifts you with him when he stands.

your legs wrap around him and he's persistent, pushing you against the wall in the heat of his kiss.

you detach your lips from his, chasing them down his cheek and into the crevice between his jaw and his neck. he groans, fingertips driving deeper into the plush of where he was holding you up by your thighs.

"i should get you jealous more often."

he guffaws, face above yours. "me? jealous of those idiots? as if."

leaning back to meet his face again, you cock an eyebrow. "you wrecked that guy's car. and taped the other one against a building."

his eyes rolled, an all-too-pretty blush darkening his face. he dropped it against your shoulder, "you know about the car?"

you laugh. "what else is big enough to flip a car in Manhattan. and the claw marks? you're so transparent it's almost hot."

Miguel chuckles and it's ticklish against your skin. he drops another kiss there. "i don't like sharing."

"sharing?"

he's back to nipping spots up your neck. "don't wanna share my girl."

the smile on your face was impossible to squash. "oh, i'm your girl now?"

he nods. "will you be?"

your fingers creep back into his hair, bringing him back into the light of your eyes. "you're not trying to make a hero out of me, are you? convert me to your little spider-squad?"

his lips purse, pretending to consider it, before eventually shaking his head. "no."

“wouldn’t a villain and a spider-man together collapse the multiverse or something?”

“then let it collapse.”

your thumb tugs on his fat bottom lip before letting it snap back in place. "god you're a sweet talker, Miggy."

you press forward to kiss him again. he sighs.

-

comment and repost if you enjoyed <3

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[drdemonprince]

what made you choose a deer for your fursona?

It's a long story that I am all too happy to tell!

I first attended Midwest Furfest in 2018, after years of being curious about it. My boyfriend at the time was a member of the Neo-Futurists Theater, and the Neo's had a longstanding relationship with the MFF community. They perform their flagship show (Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind, later rebranded as The Infinite Whale) there every year, and when the theater company's former founder attempted to steal their show name/copyright following his ousting due to sexual assault allegations, MFF really came through to offer considerable moral support.

There was lots of goodhearted joking about the furry community within that theater space, and I'd always been curious about furries and a supporter of them in heart if not in fact, and so I finally decided one year to tag along, see my boyfriend performing there, and walk around the convention floor and visit the dealer's den during my down time.

I absolutely LOVED IT. I was completely blown away by the artistry of the suits and the playful spirit of the suiters. I ran into a few friends there, outing them as furries to me, and we grew closer. I also took notice of some teal, sparkly resin antlers while I was in the Dealer's Den:

I snapped those things up and put them on immediately. Some stranger started to pet me right away (which is technically a convention consent violation, and should *not* be done, but I personally was the opposite of troubled by being treated in this way) and I was hooked.

I had always had a "thing" for antlers and horns since playing the PS2 game Ico back in the early 2000's. The young male protagonists horns representing an unwanted appendage and a visible "curse" was very appealing to me... as a boy who had been saddled with two very unwanted appendages of my own. (trangsender). I also have had many very magical encounters with deer in Ohio and Pennsylvania where I grew up. As a skiddish bottomy freak whose caused a lot of car accidents, a prey animal that also has the power to kill people in vehicles seemed plenty apt. So when I found some antlers to wear, it seemed like a natural enough fit for a potential fursona.

Then my friend @jettvector designed my fursona, using the teal antlers as a jumping off point. (this art has his old watermark on it, but he goes by jettvector now. commission him!):

Now that I had a friend-assigned fursona and was officially a furry, I ran with it, and began commissioning some art that further refined my image of the character:

this is from 9inko on Instagram

this one is from @heresvix, who specializes in deer

and this one is from @murgzt . I am currently having a partial fursuit of this iteration of the character made by Daring Duck Designs!! :0

A few things that I love about my sona's design: I love that his ears are big and really stick out, as my ears do the same, I love that he has a spot reflecting my monroe piercing, I love that deers are spotted in general, which can allow me to recast my own bacne scars in a more positive light, and i love that his greenish teal skin reflects my own olive complection (which I used to get a lot of weird comments about as a kid and felt self conscious about).

I also accumulated some gear in the meantime that allowed me to better embody my deersona, who I now call DD (which stands for Deer Devon, Docile Deer, Devon Dawn, my former DD tits, or any numer of potential things haha)

Hood by Miss Kinky Latex UK, photo by @photopotamus.

I have become a little bit more of a furry with each passing year, and it wouldn't have been possible without the hard work and creativity of so many people within the fandom, many of whom are beloved friends. <3 That's part of what makes it so special. Thanks for asking!

[void-of-unparalled-chaos]

Fic Masterlist

Because Tumblr search features are shit. Fandoms, Fics, and Series are organized in alphabetical order. Each link will send you to the Tumblr version but there will be a link to the AO3 version within that post. If you would rather go straight to AO3, my account is linked in the post pinned on my blog.

Assassin's Creed:

Of Blades and Parchment Series

Tumblr tag: #Of Blades and Parchment

Altmal AU where Malik never became an assassin and instead works as a crippled bookseller. Series is in progress.

DPxDC

Two Crickets (My addition is only 646 words but idk about the ones before it)

no tag

An addition to a prompt by @/ailithnight and writing by @/omnicrafts and @/atiyasnake

The GIW has had Danny for an undeterminable amount of time. The strain is finally more than he can handle and he body hops into a brain dead clone, R13. Danny thinks he is having a nice dream. Kon is worried for the escaped clone he found in the middle of a field.

TW: mentions of tortue

Here's Where You'll Stay (3082 words, 1 chapter)

Tumblr Tag: #Here's Where You'll Stay

"As John stared at the door preparing to get his face mauled, he couldn’t help but incredulously complain that this was not how he wanted his weekend to go. He had plans! He supposes that he would be willing to put them on hold for Phantom’s sake, but he wasn’t agreeable to the incoming face mauling. "

When Phantom comes down with Core Sickness it's up to John Constantine to save the ghost from fading.

Nothing Says "True Love" Like Being Given The Soul of Your Murderer (1510 words, 1 chapter)

Tumblr Tag: #nstllbgtsoym

Dead on Main ship. Addition to a post by @/nelkcats

"Another snarl caused him to lose his staring contest with the Bat. Nightwing was now standing between the two of them and appeared to be trying to placate the crime boss while Red Robin made the bloody stupid decision of trying to sneak up behind him. Red quickly paid the price for his folly, finding himself flat on his back pinned underneath Hood's boot while he honest to God snapped at Nightwing like a rabid dog.

"It's my gift! He gave it to me. Now fuck off before I m̶a̷k̸e̸ ̵y̶o̸u̶."

Yeah. Someone should probably interfere before they pissed him off anymore.

"You should corral your kids before one of em' loses a hand."

"Hngh." Batman leaves to break up the fight with Nightwing's aid. Hood scampers off to one of the corners of the cave, cradling the violet ball in his gloved hands as if it was the most precious thing in the world. It sounded like he was purring. John was suddenly very tired."

Rending Flesh From the Bone (3093 words, 1 chapter)

Tumblr Tag: #RFFTB

Dick wasn't so sure about Jason's "gut feeling", but what are brothers for if not to support each other during paranoia episodes? Now, deep underground in an abandoned subway tunnel, Dick is starting to have regrets as he watches the scene before him.

TW: Gore, Cannibalism, Vomiting, Zalgo Text

Slap a Bow on It (4752 words, 1 chapter)

Tumblr Tag: #Slap a Bow on It

Dead on Main ship, written for Dead on MAYn 2024

 "Contrary to popular belief, Danny wasn’t stupid. He could be a bit oblivious, but he always got there in the end. So when Danny woke up the next morning and realized that last night wasn’t a dream, he had an epiphany. He was being courted by the super hot and apparently undead crime lord who ran the haunt on the other side of the street."

TW: Danny is thirsty as hell, mentions/allusions to nsfw but nothing explicit

sketch of Danny's courting gift

Star Shoes (2772 words, 1 chapter)

Tumblr Tag: #Star Shoes

Dead on Main ship, written for Dead on MAYn 2024

"Things had been going so well for him lately. He should have expected the other shoe to drop. Or the metal pipe in this case."

In which Danny and his totally normal boyfriend who is definitely not Red Hood are abducted by cultists. Danny is super concussed, but he's got the spirit.

The Dead Stay Dead (My addition is only 679 words but idk about the ones before it)

no tag

An addition to writing by @/some-kind-of-creature and @/nerdpoe.

In which the LOA has a rule that those who die are never mentioned again and are erased from their records. Damian doesn't think to mention his late sister. Once he does he creates a portrait to commemorate her, but it turns out his sister is actually his brother now.

The Double-edged Blade of Chance (5309 words, 1 chapter)

Tumblr Tag: #The Double-edged Blade of Chance

Dead on Main ship, written for Dead on MAYn 2024

Not everyone gets to meet their soulmate. It was just a fact of life. There was always a chance, but chance was a double-edged blade. 

Jason quite literally runs into his soulmate at the young age of eight.

“Sorry! I thought you were a ghost!”

"Why would I be a ghost?”

TW: Major Character Death, Child Neglect, Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Drug Addiction, Depression

Unnamed fic (ghost chirps/unintentional ghost adoption au fic)

Tumblr Tag: #ghost chirps/unintentional ghost adoption au fic

Addition to a post by @/starwrighter

Fic is currently a work in progress with only a minimal amount released to the public under the Tumblr post. Once it's completely written chapters will be posted and linked independently.

[veryace-ficrecs]

Tim Drake & Jason Todd Angst Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

in the planter outside my front door by CosmoKid - Rated G

When Tim’s six years old, his third-grade class takes a field trip to the old firehouse in The Narrows.

By the age of seven years old, he’s learned that there’s a difference between pain and Pain, and that while adults are generally happy to deal with pain, they do not enjoy you talking about Pain.

These two things may be related.

This Dark Ceiling Without a Star by Miss_Lazy_Tuesday - Rated M

“For fuck’s sake, your chatter is going to drive me crazy faster than this stupid spell.” “Then you talk!” “There’s no point!” Jason snaps. “I can feel it, okay. It’s—there’s no emotion behind it, it’s not using my thoughts. It’s just a bunch of weird Greek echoing in my brain and a compulsion to act. And it’s getting stronger. Talking isn’t going to slow it down.” “Then what will slow it down?” After five long seconds of silence, Tim gives into the urge and viciously jabs his fist into Jason’s leg for the second time. “Goddammit, why?” Jason snaps, green briefly sparking in his eyes before disappearing just as quickly. “You are not seriously going to just sit there and wait to die.” “The hell do you care anyway?” “Because I don’t want you to die! Obviously!” “You fucking should.” 

unaware i'm tearing you asunder by hendecagrisms - Rated T

The pieces were starting to click into place, aligning to create a deeply disturbing picture. “Are you seriously saying you’ll become a missing person and fake your death for this stupid homecoming plan?” Jason interrupted, his voice full of as much judgmental incredulity as possible. The kid’s eyes skated back over to him, his face twitching into a brief frown. “What? No.” A pause. “I mean, we could do that instead, if you wanted. But to fool Batman I’d need facial reconstruction surgery and new papers and it would all have to be untraceable—,” he broke off with a scoff, shaking his head slightly. “No, it’s just smarter and more cost-efficient to do it for real.” - Tim learns about Jason Todd's return, does some research on the Lazarus Pit, and realizes that there might be a way to solve multiple problems all at once: removing himself from the picture. For some strange reason, the Red Hood doesn't seem keen on cooperating.

Grin and Bear It (I got blood on your carpet) by Alia_JuneBug - Not Rated

When Jack Drake’s business trip gets canceled, he is forced to stay at home while the legal kinks get worked out. He’s not used to having a teenager underfoot, so it’s only rational that he’s a little snappish around Tim. At least, that’s what Tim tells himself each time his dad’s idea of discipline gets harsher. Bruce had told him to take a break from Robin in order to spend some time at home with his dad, and Tim can’t say no to that. He knows Bruce is probably glad to be rid of him for a short while. And he can handle discipline. This is a Tim Drake problem, not a Robin problem anyway. There’s no need for Bruce to know anything. Things get a little muddled when an injured Jason Todd crawls through his bedroom window.

Thrown into the Storm by ThePokeOne - Rated T

"It figured, Tim thought as he trekked through Gotham's streets in one of the worst storms he'd ever seen. He'd been careless. So stupidly careless."

Or:

Tim gets kicked out, and Jason has a change of plans.

am i the only one pretending (i did it to myself) by rutaceae - Rated T

Tim doesn’t expect his latest civilian kidnapping to be any different from the rest, but when he remembers things best left buried in the past, things take a turn for the worse. Luckily, his family is here to help.

sallow skin (and they can’t look away) by Ghxst_Bird - Rated T

Bruce is off planet when Robin’s distress beacon is lit. He tries not to worry, but then Nightwing contacts him: Robin’s tracker leads straight into Gotham Bay.

1-800-ROBIN by spqr - Rated T

“Gotham Youth Mental Health Hotline, this is Jason speaking. Can I ask who I’m talking to?” There’s a long silence on the other end of the line, and then a small voice says, “I, um. Sorry, I don’t know why I called. This was a mistake. I’ll just hang up now.” “Hey, wait.” Jason drops his feet to the floor, sitting forward in his shitty cubicle. Suddenly his heart is racing and he’s not sure why, but he can’t let this kid hang up. “You don’t have to tell me your name. That’s okay. Just – why don’t you tell me why you’re calling?”

buy the ticket, take the ride by Anonymous - Rated M

Tim had always figured that if he ever woke up in Vegas sans-memory, it would be when he was older than fourteen. But there were some things he couldn’t control, and apparently whatever had happened last night that he didn’t remember was one of them.

hungry for strays by Ghxst_Bird - Rated T

Tim knows something is wrong with Batman and Nightwing, and somehow it all has to do with the new crime lord on the rise in crime alley. So of course he’s not going to stay at the manor while they’re out risking their lives. Tim leaves a note and sets out for intel on the Red Hood. Aka. Everyone is straight up not having a good time

Safe and Warm by sardonic_sprite - Rated G

Batman.

Batman lived right next door. Batman surely had a generator, or at least a fireplace and wood, or some way to get warm.

Batman took care of kids, and Mr. Wayne was really nice. He would at least let Tim warm himself back up. Maybe he could even stay just until the power came back on.

It was worth a shot.

Nervous Breakdown by AhsokaJackson - Rated T

Jay closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose to push back the encroaching headache. And possibly the admittedly ironic desire to strangle this kid for his lack of self-care instincts. "Tim. Timmy. Answer me this. Where exactly is the old man? Actually, better question: Why in the ever-living hell is the answer to that anything other than 'right here'?" Tim gave a huff that sounded more tired than defiant. "Because, like I said, it's a mild case and I don't need to be under observation. I already told Bruce the same thing I told you: I'm fine." "And he believed that."

Don't You Know? by sardonic_sprite - Rated T

“How the hell did you think taking everything the real Robin had was going to make him proud of you?” Jason snapped. “I didn’t want to take anything,” Replacement cried. “I wanted to save it. It… Batman… they were… everything was just… It was awful, and, and Gotham needed… but Robin…” The kid looked up at Jason, desperation in his eyes, like he was trying to find justification from his accuser. “I-I know he wouldn’t have wanted Batman to die.”

Living Dead Boy by Terranpheum - Rated T

Tim was having a normal night photographing Batman and mourning the dead when Jason Todd suddenly breaks out of his own grave. He's unresponsive and catatonic, and Tim knows there's no way he can leave the boy on his own. So, he brings him back to Drake Manor to try and help him recover. It goes… well?

Instead of All the Colors That I Saw by SilverSkiesAtMidnight - Rated T

Dick comes around to stand fully in front of him, keeping a steadying hand on Tim’s arm. “Just because you know you’re safe intellectually doesn’t mean you always feel safe,” he says softly. “It’s okay if you don’t feel safe.” “But it’s not okay!” Tim bursts out. “Because if I don’t feel safe, then how is Jason supposed to feel safe? He shouldn’t have to feel uncomfortable just because my brain is screwed up!” There’s a faint sound by the door, barely more than an intake of breath, and his eyes snap to the no-longer empty doorway.

The Worst Kind of Crush by TimDrakeIsMyPatronus - Rated T

Civilians came first.  It was one of the foundational truths of being a superhero. Their job was to save civilians regardless of the personal cost. Each of them knew and understood the risks associated with the cape when they put it on.  Still, rules got fuzzy when one woke up underneath a building.  Or the one where a building explodes and Tim is trapped under the rubble

Last Request by destiny919 - Rated T

"Any last words, Replacement?" Red Hood casually crouches down in front of him. "Or how about a last request? I'm feeling generous. I'll do you one last favor before I clip those little wings. Whatever you want. Sky's the limit." There's only one thing he's ever really wanted from Jason Todd.

Echoes of You by SilverSkiesAtMidnight - Rated T

Graveyard mud, heavy and dark, clinging to a stained and torn suit. One shoe missing, a leg bent awkwardly and blood staining a bare foot.

Milk white skin beneath the mud, black hair hanging in muddy clumps around his ears. Blue eyes staring back at him, animal-bright and dilated in the brief moment before he flinches back from the light with a cry of pain that stabs through Jason to the soul.

His shaking hand closes around the flashlight before he can even think about it, cutting off the piercing beam and letting it spill out in shards between his fingers. For a petrifying moment as his eyes readjust, he’s sure that when he looks again, there will be nothing there.

“Tim?” he whispers.

The lean and ragged figure, tiny, god he’s so small, lowers his hands away from his face, away from his eyes wide and glittering almost silver in the moonlight.

Hands, mud-covered and torn. The red of his shredded fingernails is sickeningly dark in the broken light.

He’s vomiting before he even feels the bile making its way up his throat.

Petals for Armor by SilverSkiesAtMidnight - Rated T

There’s a small half-moon of blood under the white of Tim’s nail where he bent it. He studies the red of it, feeling foggy and dreamlike. “Can I ask you a question?” His brother’s eyes flick to him and away again, surprised and wary. “What?” His nail doesn’t hurt much, just the dullest of aches when he presses down against it. “When you were homeless, you slept with people for money, didn’t you?” Jason jerks like he’s been slapped. His knuckles are so pale where they grip the steering wheel they suddenly look more bone than flesh. “Did I -” “Was it worth it?” Tim asks, drifting like a cloud over whatever furious reaction Jason was about to give him. “The money, I mean.” His sternum slams into the seatbelt with bruising force. Unbraced for it, his head whips forward and back against his seat as they swerve off the road again and skid to a halt with a screech of rubber.

farthest you’ve ever flown by rutaceae - Rated T

When Jack Drake kicks Tim out in a rage, Tim, not wanting to be a bother, tries to make it work without getting the Bats involved. But he can only go so long without being found out, and it’s not Batman that ends up discovering his secret; it’s the Red Hood.

Familial Ties by AnonymousWhump - Rated T

What he wasn't expecting was to walk into the kitchen to find Tim,  yes Tim because he wasn't in the Robin outfit he was dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants, was that blood on his feet?  Staring at him in shock, eyes flicking from him to the phone in his hand, before mumbling a quiet,

“Jason?”  

Or, Jason breaks into the Titan's Tower to hurt Robin but his plan is quickly derailed when he sees signs of abuse.

Drop In by iselsis - Rated T

Tim's injured, alone in Crime Alley, and the worst possible person finds him. And yet it doesn't turn out as badly as Tim expected.

Watch Your Step Dear by Redaliveviolation - Rated T

Tim was having a great time watching the Dynamic Duo race across Gotham. He was getting so many good photos and he never wanted these nights to end. Too bad the heroes aren’t around when he takes a trip off of the side of a building.

[bamnamuu]

Birthday Surprise Sim Jake

w.count 548 | warnings slight cursing, bad writing, typos not fully proof read | requested @ghostiiess | em’s note this has been in my drafts for some time but now it’s JAKE DAY!!!!! i hope you enjoy it 🤩

Your relationship with Jake is special, to say it’s unlike all the other ones you’ve been in is an understatement. For starters Jake is an idol that many people fawn over, which makes you happy that so many people love him, obviously not more than you. Being an idol Jake has to be careful with you, having to keep your relationship private to make sure you're safe, however you wouldn't change anything.  Jake has been busy preparing for Enhypen's comeback and you haven’t had much time to see each other which is normal but this time it’s different because Jake's birthday is coming up and you’re upset that you might not see him, until an idea pops into your head! while waiting around the green room for the boys to finish their performance you caught up with some of the staff who have become more like your friends than people who work for your boyfriend, and one of them said “you should join us and you’ll see him everyday!” Obviously she was joking, but the thought of being with Jake while he does whatever makes you say “that’s a great idea!” “y/n no i was kidding!” After telling everyone your genius plan that insisted on you pretending to be a staff member watching in on Jake's live and then when he’s done you would surprise him, they agreed and it’s a good thing you’re so close with their staff that they are letting you do this.

 So there you were sitting in your disguise of one of Jake’s hoodies and a face mask waiting for Jake to come in, scrolling on your phone you start to hear the door start to open and your boyfriend walks in. you get up trying not to look him in the eye just in case he might recognise you immediately, and to which you fail miserably because the minute that you lock eyes he starts to realise that it’s you, “holy shit!” he said smiling like a puppy. “what?” you replied back putting on a deeper voice which only caused him to laugh “how did you …. did you sneak into the building?” he said “nope i work here” you can’t help but start giggling at yourself as you see Jake make his way to you. Once he is, he brings his hands up to pull off your mask and hood off “surprise!” you say beaming up at him, “hi love!’’ he said wrapping his arms around you ‘’happy birthday baby’’ you said quietly, ‘’OH i have something for you!’’ you said remembering his present, which only caused you to startle your boyfriend with the volume change, detaching yourself from him you walk over to your bag and take out his neatly wrapped present. ‘’What no, I don't need anything else, you're the best present’’ Jake argued. ‘’you have to take it, i cant return it, oh shit.’’ you said causing Jake to worry ‘’y/n i was kidding i’ll take your present i'll even open it up right now!’’ Jake said while taking off the ribbon bow you put on his gift, he only stops when he hears you start to laugh ‘’what?’’ he said, looking at you. ‘’you have to do your live, remember!’’ ‘’oh yeah.’’ he giggled, putting down his present. 

tag list (open) @smouches @rayoraish

[dreamwatch]

Get in the Van

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #5 - Prompt: On The Road | Word Count: 999 | Rating: T | CW: chronic pain, language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: None| Tags: band struggles, touring in a van, author is not American, geographic inacuracies (probably) | AO3

****

“Fuck!”

“It doesn’t matter how many times you kick the van, man, it’s not going to make it start!”

“Maybe he just needs to kick it harder.”

“Shut up!”

****

Wasn’t this just fucking amazing? Wasn’t this just indicative of the bad luck that followed him around like some looming spectre? They’ve only been out on the road a few weeks, just a handful of gigs before the van broke down. Now they’re stuck at the side of the road in Somewhere, Minnesota, with a van full of equipment, dirty laundry and soon to be broken dreams. 

It started in Evansville, with a bunch of locals who heard about the satanists showing up to play their 'devil music' and decided to give them a warm welcome; there are dents and scratches all over the van that are definitely not going to buff out.

Then in St. Louis they had an amazing show, like objectively fucking brilliant. Eddie knows for a fact there was some local music journalist in the crowd, too. So of course that was the night Jeff’s amp decided it wasn’t just going to give up, it was going out in a blaze of glory. Literally. Fucking thing just went up in flames. Everyone thought it was part of the act, even when he stripped his shirt off to beat the flames out. So yeah, now they’re down an amp.

Gareth being plied with tequila before the show in Kansas City was another highlight. Don’t get him wrong, he loves to see Gareth happy and if a pretty woman wanted to buy him some drinks then good for him. He loved it less when they were on stage later. Eddie has no idea what songs Gareth was playing, but they definitely weren’t the same as the rest of the band. He also learned it’s really hard to get vomit out of a snare drum.

And then there’s the pain.

Thing is, its always there. It just is, there’s no point making a big deal about it. The doctors always told him it would be a life long thing but that it would get easier. It’s been three years now, and there’s been no improvement. Which is, well not fine, it sucks, but you know, it is what it is. But there have been days, shows, where he could cry. Where it feels like his skin has been flogged with a burning switch, where the muscles in his leg and back scream at him to stop, just fucking stop! But he pushes through, takes his painkillers, maybe doubles up sometimes with a couple of shots of JD to help them down, whatever. It’s all good.

And now they’re sitting at the side of the I-94 with smoke and steam billowing from the engine block, and nothing but truck after truck passing by. 

“What if no one stops?” asks Gareth, propping himself against the back doors.

Jeff rocks on his heels in front of him, hands jammed in his pockets. “Someone will stop.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Eddie mutters. He’s under the hood, poking his hand around into the hot engine parts; he’s only burnt himself twice so far. 

“Hey, don’t be bring your bad juju here man—”

Eddie storms to the back of van. “My bad juju? Are you kidding me? Gareth booked these fucking gigs!”

A huge semi screams past them, tooting his horn, making them all jump. 

“I booked some of them. Don’t blame this on me, man. It’s your van.”

“It is my van, correct, however we all benefit from it, and I don’t see any of you assholes dipping into your pockets when it needs work.”

Jeff shrugs. “Well, it’s never needed work.”

“It does now,” says Matt, merrily throwing pebbles into the long grass, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Eddie cuts him a withering look.

Another truck passes, whipping up dirt in it’s trail. When he’s done coughing, Gareth says “I kind of think we should stand further away, actually. This doesn’t feel safe.“ He’s probably not wrong.

“Alright, go and sit by the fence, I’ll stand here with my thumb out,” Eddie says, mumbling “like an asshole” under his breath. He drops his jacket into the front seat of the van on the off chance it might seem less imposing, and then heads to the side of the road, standing as far out from the van as he dares. 

“You should roll your jeans up, show ‘em some leg!” Matt shouts at him.

“Fuck off, Matt!”

“Have you seen how white his legs are?” he can hear Jeff say. “We want them to stop, not call Ghostbusters.”

Eddie pokes his head around the side of the van. “By all means, one of you stand here with your thumb in the air while eighteen wheelers fly past.” When he doesn’t get a response he snaps back, “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

Eddie stands in the blazing sun, hair whipping around his face as semi after semi speeds by; he’s sweaty and dirty and desperate for a shower. The nerves in his leg are starting to fire up, and he needs a cigarette but he smoked his last one just before the van decided it was done with this trip, so now he has the little tap tap tap of nicotine addiction to contend with as well. 

This sucks. Touring sucks. So fucking much.

But.

Last night they played a show in Minneapolis. The crowd was wild; a huge mosh pit opened up right in front of Eddie and it took every ounce of his being not to throw himself in the mix. They sold tapes and t-shirts and traded phone numbers with a band manager. They laughed all night and drank until three A.M.. It was amazing. It was everything he ever dreamed it would be.

Wayne always told him he was resilient, ‘more than you know, son.’ He holds on to that as another truck screams past.