#so now i definitely can't ask directly

[darthgender]

being so so good at expressing to my partner that I was upset by something they did and then feeling worse when they don't respond in the exact way I want them to and then feeling evil and manipulative for continuing to tell them how sad I am haha my brain has a broom and is hitting me with it repeatedly

[enderlovez]

Germs

Spencer Reid x Female BAU Reader WORD COUNT: 719

Summary: Everyone is shocked when the genius germaphobe drinks directly from your water bottle, you even more so when it was actually just a plot.

Content Warning: Mentions of germs and being a germaphobe, reader has some slightly unholy thoughts, slightly suggestive at the end

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

It's just a normal day in the BAU. You're silently sitting at your desk, scanning through the paperwork from the case you and the team just closed. It was a hard one, and you had to spend close to three weeks across the country, so it's a relief to be home.

Only problem there — the case was located in Arizona, a state commonly known for being hot. So you, and everyone else, got into the habit of drinking extensive amounts of water, a habit that's surprisingly hard to kick now that you're back in Virginia.

Not to mention how it feels so much colder here now.

You shudder and pick up the water bottle you picked up from the gas station on the way here, pulling up the top and drinking deeply from it. It's not like you're even really thirsty, but you just can't help it!

"Y/N?" someone asks from behind you, making you jump and let out this embarrassing squeak. You turn spin around in your chair to find the one and only Doctor Spencer Reid, standing in front of you with his hands clasped, nervously twiddling his thumbs.

"What can I do for you, Handsome?" you ask teasingly, fighting back the goofy smile that threatens to take over your face.

Embarrassed, his face turns a delicious crimson, hands moving to clasp together behind his back. He's so freaking adorable, all you want to do is eat him sometimes.

"May I please have..." The rest of his sentence is lost in translation as his voice trails off into something you can't hear, but you're sure that no matter what he was asking, you'd give it to him in a heartbeat.

"M'sorry, what was that?" you ask, relaxing back into your chair as you observe him. He really is the prettiest boy you've ever seen, with his glasses and puppy-dog eyes. It's a miracle you can even form a , coherent sentence when he's around.

"May I please..." he starts again, pausing briefly to look around, "may I please have some of your water?"

Your eyes widen at his request, but you smile and nod nonetheless, staring at the bottle in your hands as you pass it up to him, the top already popped up.

You're not sure what you really expected him to do with it, considering Spencer Reid would never put his mouth where someone elses was, especially not when he saw it there less than a minute ago.

But here he is, drinking from your water bottle like his life depends on it. He doesn't realize just how many people are watching him — the pretty germaphobe who doesn't even like shaking hands with people — doing something as simple as drinking.

It's not the drinking that they're watching.

You're definitely not thinking about the fact that he's drinking most of your water, just about the fact that he's indirectly touching his mouth with yours, and to say you're mesmerized is an understatement.

"Thank you," he murmurs when he's finished, a guilty yet somehow mischievous glint in his eyes as he looks between the almost empty bottle and you. "I'm sorry for drinking all your water. Maybe I could take you out to dinner to make up for it?" He pauses for a second, leaning slightly forward so only you can hear him. "As a... date?"

Mouth agape, all you can do is nod as he hands the bottle back to you and makes his way back to his desk. It's entirely unprofessional for the work place, but you can't exactly make yourself care.

"Reid, you know there's a place you can get your own water, right?" Morgan questions, eyes glued to Spencer as if he'd grown a third head.

"I do," he says as he sits back down at his desk, "that just felt a whole lot cleaner."

A breath you didn't realize you were holding escapes you as you slump down into your chair like a ragdoll, looking down at the still-wet nozzle of the bottle. With your face blushing madly, your put your mouth over the very place his was barely thirty seconds and down the rest of your water.

Since when was Spencer Reid so smooth?

Since when was he interested in you?

You have to get onto that man.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Police Officer Wes

"Excuse me, sorry, Mr. Batman, sir!"

That's definitely not a voice he knows. Bruce halts in his steps, aborting his usual retreat into the shadows, and turns back around. Commissioner Gordon, who was still in the process of wrapping up his small talk with Tim - the term 'grumpy banter' would describe their conversation more accurately at this point, but Bruce knows better than to argue with the two over semantics - also turns around, pausing in the middle of the sentence.

A ginger haired boy, wide-eyed and obviously either nervous, starstruck, or both, is staring at him from a few feet behind the Commissioner. Bruce can see a few more faces peeking from behind the half-opened door to the roof, all of them filled with anticipation. He knows two of them: detectives that work directly under Gordon, Isaiah Vasquez, and Tasha Kuznets. The third one, a black man in his forties, also looks vaguely familiar, but Bruce can't recall a name.

Yet, he knows absolutely nothing about the ginger, who hasn't blinked once since Bruce noticed him and is now biting on his lips. But he is wearing a police uniform, so, possibly, a new hire?

"Weston, get out," Jim sighs, waving a shooing hand at the boy with a look of barely concealed exasperation on his face. Definitely a new hire, then. That's the level of annoyance he reserves only for the overachieving rookies that he begrudgingly likes but never admits to.

"I-" newly named Weston starts but cuts himself off. Then, he takes a deep breath and straightens up, "Just one question, sir!"

"Weston, I swear to God," Commissioner pinches the bridge of his nose, lifting his glasses up a bit. But Tim tilts his head to the side, looking in the ginger's direction and raising his eyebrows. His domino mask hides it, but Bruce knows his menagerie of kids well enough to see that he is at least a bit curious about the boy. So he turns back around fully and inclines his head, giving Weston his attention. He doesn't mind talking with those rare few members of GCPD that Gordon likes.

Weston perks up like a very eager dog at the sight of a treat. In the contrast lighting of the BatSignal, his hair looks like it's on fire.

"If you don't mind, was the 'Smiling case' relevant to Joker in any sense?" The boy asks, loud and clear - maybe even too loud - with his unblinking gaze still glued to Bruce. Like he is afraid that if he closes his eyes for a moment, Gotham's vigilantes are going to disappear without a trace.

It's not a question Bruce expected, to be honest. The 'Smiling case' was closed just a few days ago, Gordon was still not done with the paperwork, as far as Oracle's records went. A murder of three, where all victims had some badly drawn clown makeup on them - post-mortem makeup, as it turned out, the murderer tried to deceive the investigation by trying to cover it up as Joker's doing. Only, he didn't do a good job at it, all the Bats were way too familiar with the Mad Clown's signature style. Not to mention that Joker was still securely sealed in his Arkham cell.

Bruce turns to look at Red Robin. He was the one working on the case, so Bruce gives him the choice of answering or not. Tim jerks his shoulder, looks the ginger boy up and down, and then shakes his head.

"Aside from a poor attempt at leading the investigation in the wrong direction, no, it wasn't," Tim shrugs, "The guy isn't even a Gothamite, he knew of Joker only from the rumors and media. And the clown faces were a makeshift cover-up."

Weston visibly deflates at the answer. Bruce watches in a slight amusement as Tasha nudges the other officer, one he doesn't remember the name of, in the shoulder, and stage-whispers, "Pay up." The older man huffs and disappears behind the door, followed by Isaiah.

"Thank you, Mr. Red Robin," Wesley nods politely and takes a step back, his eyes darting to Gordon. Tim snorts a laugh but doesn't correct him. Commissioner, though, gives the boy a long, dreadful sigh.

"Is that all, officer Weston?" He asks, not even bothering to hide his 'tired dad' voice.

The ginger nods again, "Yes, Commissioner Gordon."

"Then get out of my sight before I make all your shifts double," Jim commands, and Weston nearly runs back to the door with a speed that makes Bruce involuntarily think of speedsters. Must be the red hair.

Tim turns to look at the Commissioner right as the door to the roof slams shut behind both Weston and Kuznets.

"Who is he?"

Bruce is also a bit curious now. New recruits in the GCPD are nothing out of the ordinary, but Jim seems to know this one personally, and Kuznets, who is one of his trusted detectives, seems to also like the officer.

Gordon briefly huffs and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his coat. It's quite chilly today; Bruce makes a mental note to switch everyone to their more insulated suits. Scarecrow is currently out on the loose. It won't do any good if any of the Bats went down with a cold.

"Wesley Weston, fresh out of the Academy," Commissioner sighs, but, somehow, Bruce gets the impression it's not a sound of simple exasperation over a new officer eager to prove himself. Jim proves his assumptions by looking around the shoulder to make sure the door to the roof is still closed, and continuing, "Born and raised in the middle of nowhere, Illinois, but GCPD was his first choice. He explained it as having a few friends living in the city, which, unfortunately, proved to be right."

Bruce frowns and grunts, alarm bells ringing in his mind. Deliberately choosing to work in Gotham despite not being from here can be caused by many reasons, and nearly none of them are good reasons.

"Unfortunately?" Tim inquires suspiciously, also with a slight frown, but Jim waves them both off.

"No, he's got nothing to do with any of the criminals. It was the first thing I checked when he mentioned 'friends'. If anything, he's quite on the opposite; he'd make a great detective one day, what with his countless conspiracy theories, determination and the insane urge to dig up every single detail known to mankind," he laughs a bit, and Bruce notices a slight, teasing twinkle to the Commissioner's eyes behind his glasses. "On his second day here, the boy went and plain told me he knows that Batman is Bruce Wayne and that he's saying that because he knows I know and he is aware we're working together."

The alarm bells in Bruce's mind turn into sirens. They never discussed the matters of Bats' real identities with Gordon - Bruce had his suspicions that the man knew it and simply kept his status quo. In all fairness, James Gordon didn't make it to Gotham's Commissioner by sheer dumb luck, so all the Bats kind of expected him to figure it out one day.

But Jim knowing who's behind the cowl is one thing. A new, out of town officer is quite another.

"What did you answer?" Tim asks with an easy smile, but Bruce sees the barely noticeable tension in his shoulders.

Gordon nearly grins, "I didn't believe him, which turned out to be exactly what he expected. He also told me of some kind of a familial curse - he called it 'Cassandra's curse', I believe you're aware of what it means. And then, when I naturally expressed my doubts, proceeded to show it in action. Believe me, it works. Sometimes, it even works too well," the man looks to the side with an amused huff, "That's why officer Weston is strictly prohibited from voicing his opinions on any of the ongoing cases outloud. Detective Kuznets almost missed some critical evidence because of his input once."

Cassandra's curse, Bruce has heard of that saying before. Granted, he never thought it could be a real thing, and he is not intending on starting now, not before he investigates the matter thoroughly. But he does trust Jim - years and years of working together would do that to people - so he simply nods in understanding, leaving the matter of supernatural aside for now.

"What about his friends?" Red Robin asks again, and that causes Gordon to wince momentarily.

"That, I believe, was the cause of his performance just now. One of his friends runs an occult shop, and the other one loves to hang around our forensic scientists and coroners occasionally," the man waves their immediate frowns off again, "I don't go into the morgue often, but I heard he's good at finding out the causes of death by a few looks at the body. And they run a lot of bets between them three," Jim shrugs nonchalantly, "The last one was about the 'Smiling case', I take it."

"Any reason to worry about them?" Bruce can't help but ask. It's not unusual for people to be weird in this city, and running an occult shop and hanging out with pathologists are not exactly reasons to go through background checks when they've got much more pressing issues on their plate. Namely, Scarecrow: it's been more than a week since his escape, but none of the Bats have heard anything about him yet. Oracle is already busy enough with that and the current uprise of gang activity in the Narrows, there's no point in piling even more work on her shoulders just because of some gossip that rubs Bruce the wrong way.

Gordon, thankfully, doesn't take his question lightly and pauses, scratching his chin.

"No," he finally concludes after some thought, "They are a bit strange for non-Gothamites, I'll say that, but in terms of this city? They are no stranger than my neighbors from upstairs." Gordon doesn't tell them to leave it alone, Bruce notices. However, it's probably not because of any doubts he has; the Bats just have a habit of tripplechecking everything anyways, and who would know that better than Jim Gordon?

A quick glance to Tim proves Bruce's thoughts. Red Robin, despite the mask, looks thoughtful. How many cases is he already working on, seven? Bruce makes another mental note to ask Alfred to cut his caffeine intake. It might be a bit hypocritical of him, what with his own plans to send a few messages to JLD about the 'Cassandra's curse', but Bruce excuses himself as the adult in the family.

Commissioner Gordon clears his throat.

"Do you want me to turn around so you can make your mysterious escape, or-" he starts, but both vigilantes are already gone by the time he finishes, "-or not, okay."

[gravegoer]

possible royal au with sevika?? her as a knight, bodyguard.. etc .. 🩷

also you are lowkey THE sevika writer ..

Royal Blood — 🜲

thank you, anon. i appreciate that ! also, i might make this a series (send in an ask if you are interested) summary: sevika might have a little crush, but it's so immoral— i mean, you're a royal !! also i dont use any physical descriptions in ANY of my stories unless specifically mentioned i have 20 asks in my inbox atm and i promise im getting to them (esp pirate ones) masterlist

Your parents hired you a guard despite your constant complaints. You didn't need a man to watch over you in place of them. It wasn't your fault they could never be home for you.

You are the princess, so you needed to be put in line, no more walking out alone at night, no more hanging out with friends at bars, etc. Your parents wanted to put a stop to it all.

When you were introduced to your bodyguard, it was a pleasant suprise that she was a woman. Sevika. She had dark scarred skin, a showcase of her past on her body, and a prosthetic metal arm that caught your eye immediately. But that didnt mean you liked having a bodyguard any more than you did before.

And as always, your parents planned to leave for weeks on "business" having Sevika watch over you in the mostly empty castle.

Although your parents ordered you not to step foot out of the castle, you needed fresh air badly. Opening the windows to let the breeze in was no longer enough to satisfy you. You felt like a rat trapped in a cage that desperately needed to escape.

It was the late hours of night when you decided that Sevika would most definitely be asleep, giving you the opening to sneak out. You didn't bother to change out of your ruffled night gown and sleep tights before stepping out into the hall. Your feet that were covered with thin fabric protested the coldness of the tile as you continued down the west wing.

It was definitely chillier than your warm room. goosebumps littered your arms before you attempted to rub them away. The moonlight cascaded in a film over your body, peeking through the many windows in the hall.

You turned, curiously, to the window, and the stars illuminated your irises. Putting your hands to the glass you peered at the garden, fireflies were swarming the flowers and fluttered around the fountain. You smile at the sight and suddenly become more enthusiastic about your trip.

Your excitement was soon interrupted by a husky (but loud) voice, "And where do you suppose you're going, princess?"

"I told you not to call me that," You frowned and turned away from the window to see Sevika approaching you with crossed arms.

Her heavy boots thudded on the tile, contrasting with your daintly socked feet. She stopped in front of you to look you up and down, "What? Were you in a rush to sneak out and didn't dress for the weather?" She teased.

You shook your head and looked away, "No, i wasn't sneaking anywhere.. I just wanted to get some air."

"Crack a window, princess." She directly ignored your previous order, "I can't let you leave until your parents return."

You scoffed at her strictness, "I just want to take a walk in my own garden. Can't you spare me that much?"

"What your parents say goes, now don't argue with me."

"This isn't your job—" You instantly start to argue, "Your job is to protect me not to control me!"

"You're wrong there," She stepped closer to you. "My job is to protect you and control you. Your parents ordered me to do so, so that's what I intend to do."

At that, you got angry, "Would you please just be lenient? All I ask is for a walk."

She ran a thick finger over the crease between her brows, and you took notice of the dark circles under her eyes.

"You can't just do whatever you want. You have responsibilities, and one of those responsibilities is to abide by the rules."

You scoffed and started back to your room before she added, "And tomorrow morning, I want you in my sight, no more funny business."

Leaving her without any confirmation, you slipped back into your room and slammed the door, throwing yourself back into bed. You grumbled to yourself about how this castle is a prison and buried your face into the pillows.

For the next hour, you were tossing and turning and eventually pacing around your room. Looking at the clock, it read: 12 AM.

Fuck you needed to get out.

Going on your second attempt to sneak out, you creaked the door open, slower than the first time. You were immediately met with a dark form standing outside your door.

Sevika.

She caught sight of you through the small crack, gaze cold, and confused. She raised an eyebrow, and you saw her eyes rake down your body before quickly darting back up.

"Again?"

"Why are you at my door," You huffed, now opening it fully as she had already caught you.

"I'm on duty," She stated bluntly.

"No, you just want to catch me leaving my room."

"That's called being on duty, Princess."

You ran a hand down your face, feeling the pieces of stray hair that stuck to your cheeks and brushing them away.

"Sevika, I can't sleep," you admitted, although reluctantly.

"I'll grab you a blanket or a cup of water?" She suggested while tilting her head.

"No, I have all of that. I just feel so alone here without my parents," You leaned against the doorframe, now being sincere with her.

She was caught off guard by your honesty and cleared her throat, "I'm sorry— I mean about the whole.. situation you're in"

The only reason you messed around outside the castle and refused to follow the rules is to forget about the emptyness of your own home. Sevika was beginning to realize this.

"Can you help me fall asleep," You stated, catching her off guard once again.

"Miss, I dont think thats appropriate"

You laughed at her instantly, pulling out the formalities when she got embarrassed. "Please, this is an order from your princess."

Her eyes widened at the tone in your voice and the way you looked at her when you pleaded for her company. Finally relenting, she swallowed the lump in her throat and slowly stepped into your room past you.

Your room was most definitely large, with a king-sized bed in the middle, covered with pillows and expensive silks. There was a large curtained window facing your bed that let some light through. She didn't even hear you shut the door behind her before you stepped past her, and ran to flop into your bed.

She eyed the way your nightgown lifted a bit when you jumped up but quickly cleared her thoughts. She stood stifly in the middle of your room before you sat up to pat the spot beside you.

It was hard not to stare at the way your skin tone contrasted the sheets while she walked up to you and sat beside you. (Moreso on the edge).

You chuckled at her nervousness of being in your room and scooted up to the top of your bed, feet behind her back.

"C'mon, get comfortable," you tapped her with your foot, "I didn't invite you in to make you guard my bedside"

She scoffed, and you moved your legs, planting your feet flat on your bed to make room for her to scoot back. She did so enough for you to be able to see the side of her face. There was a flicker of something unreadable in her expression when she looked over at you, eyeing the way you were displayed for her.

Ignoring her expression, you sat your legs in her lap and scooted down so that your butt was pressed against the side of her thigh. Your head was nuzzled comfortably in the pillows and you sighed at her warmness.

"Tell me a story."

You could see her expression, but you would like to imagine her face was flushed and embarrassed. But unbeknownst to you she was looking down at you with a smirk, knowing you couldnt see her face.

Of course, it felt wrong to have the princess splayed out on her bed in front of her, soft legs over hers and hands behind her head, but what could Sevika do, she wasnt invincible.

For a few minutes, she was caught up in a story about something that you thought was dumb. Talking about the woman she served before you, and obviously, you didn't care. You were more entranced with the way her toned thighs felt against the back of yours and the way her calloused hand brushed over your knee.

You had contemplated her attractiveness in the past but opted not to act on your desires, as she seemed very adamant about being professional. You couldn't ruin that for her.

Although tonight, she wasn't denying any of your actions.

You interrupted her story by sitting up, "Mmm, I feel tired already.. Or maybe that's the bordem."

You mumbled that last part.

"Okay, what more could I possibly do," Her grip on your knee got more intense.

You scooted forward, now sitting in her lap, "Just shut up and let me sleep."

You leaned into her.

This was a really bad idea. Sevika thought to herself, hands now hovering over you, not knowing what to do. She almost pushed you away but stopped herself upon feeling you snuggle closer into her chest.

She hoped you couldn't hear her heart thumping against her ribcage. To add to her already racing thoughts, she couldn't even fathom how your parents would react to this.

She would be fired immediately.

Yeah.

This needs to end.

You looked up at her, wondering why you didn't feel the pressure of her hands on your body. Her face was contemplative, eyes locked into a random spot in your room.

You spoke, just above a whisper, "I need this, Sevika."

Fuck your parents.

She wrapped her arm that was closest to your knees around your body to the back of your neck, holding you to her. Her thumb brushed against your cheek comfortingly.

She didn't exactly know what it was like to be in your position, but she knew she wouldn't like it. Her metal arm was wrapped around your back, hand softly on your hip. You could almost feel the coldness through your nightgown, but you barely minded. Her face was pressed into the top of your head, inhaling your scent.

From this night on, she was no longer just your protector, but also your caretaker. She told herself she would be there for you at any moment of need.

Sevika no longer needed to suppress her feelings of want towards you, and this was all the comformation she needed that you felt the same way.

its a bit short but im having the most insane writers block right now, i have so many stories i want to complete that i end up doing none of them... whoops.. but asks are still open it might just take longer

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Hi!

I’d love a part two to your hit me hard and soft fanfic. Maybe Y/N continues to avoid them as a romantic relationship but begins to accept a platonic one liking eating with Dick or hanging out with Jason at school, etc… but the Batfam gets impatient and talks about why they are afraid (and maybe hunt down the ex which could gain their trust?)

Hit me Hard and Soft: Whispers in the Shadows

Synopsis: The relationship between the batfam gets broken after mistakes lead to accusations, and accusations lead to contingency plans.

Pairing: Yandere!Poly!Romantic!Batboys X Gn!Reader

Tw: Poly!Yandere; All characters aged up; Possible betrayal; Bad father Bruce, but is he actually the asshole here?; Arguments; Mentions of killing and torture; Possibly ooc batboys: English is my 2nd language.

Word count: 2k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: Not much action between Reader and the batboys here, but definitely something. Read the end to answer my question👀

General masterlist | Hit me Hard and Soft - Series masterlist

— You can't be serious.

The tension was at its highest point. Only a few times priorly did the conflict between all of them get this bad, and as always, they feared things couldn't go back to the way they were.

— I am being serious. That's how things work. — Bruce stated darkly and Dick narrowed his eyes. — We tried it the nice way, I trusted you to behave, but you couldn't do that. — Bruce raised his gloved hand and pointed at Damian. — First, Damian can't control himself. He spent a decade acting right. Justice, not vengeance. But now, he's using (Y/N) as an excuse to defile orders and act as an assassin again! — Damian hissed and clenched his fists, taking a step forward.

— If you really cared for them, you would understand, father! But as always, you put your so-called mission above everything, even us! Even them! — Bruce clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes in his direction, then turned to Jason.

— And you! How many chances do I have to give you? Both of you! You don't change. You will never change. And until you do that, you will never deserve (Y/N)’s or mine trust. Or their love. — Jason's heart broke in two, but he didn't react on the outside. Just kept his hard, Red Hood’s exterior. As he always did every time he and Bruce had a falling out.

— Bruce… — Dick muttered, a mix of a warning to remind him of not going too far, and betrayal by what he was witnessing. Bruce didn't look phased. And the fact he was still wearing Batman's suit, minus the cowl, just made this whole situation more genuine. He was neither Bruce Wayne, the persona, nor Batman, the vigilant. He was just Bruce. Their boss and their father.

— You hunted down that man, tortured and killed him! And you… — He took his gaze away from Jason and glared at Damian again. — Knew about it, and didn't notify us!

— I did know about it. Todd, you should have told us before. I also wanted that scum’s blood in my hands-

— ENOUGH! THE BOTH OF YOU WILL STAY AWAY FROM (Y/N). FOREVER.

Tim raised an eyebrow.

— Sound’s convenient. — All head’s snapped in his direction.

— What do you mean, Tim? — Dick asked. All muscles on his body tense. Tim gazed at him for a moment, then at Damian and Jason, then at Bruce again, staring directly into his eyes. — I just think it's very convenient that Bruce's getting rid of two of them. While your reason checks with past conflicts we had, with your morals and mission. It's also good for you that you wouldn't have to share (Y/N)’s attention with so many people in the future. Right, Bruce?

Silence took hold of the room.

— What are you implying? — Bruce stomped forward until he was face to face with Tim, their nose’s almost touching, daring him to say more. Tim didn't back down.

— Yeah, Tim, what're you implying? — Jason raised an eyebrow behind his helmet and took a step forward. The others copied that action.

— I’ve been watching you, Bruce. Just like you've been watching us. I know you’ve been upgrading contingency plans, more specifically, our contingency plans. I think he's been trying to keep us busy. To rile us up to commit mistakes. While he hogs all of (Y/N)’s attention. He said Damian could be trusted again if he proved himself, that was a year ago, and he still didn't give Damian permission. I bet he knew Damian would get restless and get more violent with criminals. Until he had an excuse to kick him out. And Jason, he let you spend time with (Y/N) at university. But as soon as (Y/N) started calling you their best friend, hanging out with you outside of classes and even confiding in you about their trauma, proving that our plan to make them trust us was finally working, suddenly (Y/N)’s ex receives an offer to transfer to GCPD, while everyone here has a… Weakness, when it comes to losing people we love and avenging their suffering, it's a known fact some are more… Trigger-happy than others.

Dick shook his head.

— Tim, that's something serious you're accusing him of.

— Let him continue. — Bruce growled darkly.

— I don't have anything to accuse you of, Bruce. I just don't trust you. — He shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal.

— So you're ready to brush off what they did? — Bruce accused and Dick started to feel even more restless seeing that the distance between them didn't change, feeling the urge to get in the middle and defend his little brother.

— I didn't say anything. But I wouldn't be surprised if me or Dick were next. — That made Dick snap.

No, he can't.

He can’t keep me away from them.

After everything I did.

We're just so close now.

Just earlier today we were having lunch together.

He can't.

He can't do this to me.

Is that how Jay and Dami felt? Is that why they snapped and started killing people? Is that why Jason killed that guy? Just for the idea of losing them forever?

Is that why, even with how heartbreaking and horrible it sounds, any possibility of someone trying to take them away from them made Tim voice out his paranoia? Thoughts Dick had when everything was quiet, when he just brushed it off as intrusive thoughts?

It isn't… Logical… But it also is…

The only thing stopping him from believing Tim wholeheartedly is the lifelong trust he had on Bruce. But those are just feelings. And they all feel. Intensely. For you.

And as much as they tried to make it peaceful, everyone having a piece of you and being happy. They were having problems, and a traitor was always a possibility.

Either way, he couldn't take that chance.

That night, Wayne Manor slept almost completely empty. All of the sons were gone. And you would know it too.

It's been a week. They've been meeting at the apartment just beside yours. It was empty, until Damian bought it, and started living there after cutting ties with his father. He wasn't happy that the others were also using it as their nest, a place to meet and talk about strategies. And keep an eye on you.

Damian was slowly steering his tea, mind elsewhere, not really paying mind to the conversation. While it was important, his stomach was full of butterflies and his heart pounded hard every time he thought about earlier, something he couldn't stop doing. After a whole year of being almost completely away from you, finally spending time with you was like a dream. That just made his resentment towards his father grow worse, even if he didn't do that on purpose, it still felt like injustice.

He knew since he was born, his way of doing things was always better.

He just told you he didn't know that part of the town much, and you, sweet you, already acquainted with his brothers, invited him to show him around. A bad taste came to his mouth whenever he thought he was the least close to you, even if he knew everything there was to know about his beloved. He got left behind. He let himself be left behind.

Because he was weak. Because he was submissive. Because he trusted his father.

His mother did send him to his progenitor's home saying that he needed to learn from him.

— We could use the League.

All heads snapped to him.

— Huh?

— We are talking about contingency plans for our father. We could have the League of Assassins on our side. Infinite resources against one single man. (Y/N) would live in luxury. And they did tell us… — His heart warmed at the sensation of finally feeling included in your life. — … Multiple times that they despised the cold weather Gotham always seems to have. Eth Alth'eban is always hot.

— We are not joining those fuckers, and you shut down that idea before I start believing what that old man said about you and kick your ass into your grave, demon brat. — Damian kept stoic after Jason's response.

— We could use the League for something good for once. I could. As the Head of the Demon. — He retorted with confidence.

Dick shook his head in disbelief.

— Dami, I think that's too much. It would only prove what Bruce was trying to say. — Damian leaned forward, as if getting closer would make his point come across as more genuine.

— I could do it! Not as a dictator like my grandfather! But as something actually good! Not just for us, but for everyone! The whole world!

— Does that megalomaniac plan of yours have an actual strategy? — Damian rolled his eyes.

— Of course it has. Kill anyone who gets in the way of my rightful place at birth. — Damian tilted his head at Tim, who looked at him in disbelief.

— Even Ras? — Damian frowned. What a dumb question. Damian would do anything for you.

— Especially Ras. — A fist hit the table and the oldest got up with a scowl in his face.

— No one. Is going to kill. Anyone. And we are not going to use the League. — Damian got up too.

— What is stopping you? This is for (Y/N)! It is not just some fucking petty act to annoy father. He acted behind our backs and he will take my beloved from me! From us!

— We don't know that yet! — Even with Dick's exclamation, it was clear not even him was totally sure about Bruce's intentions.

— … Failing to prepare is preparing to fail. — Tim muttered. They all observed he had a distant look on his face, it was the look he had when he was planning something. After a few seconds, he looked up again and got up, facing Damian. — I'm with you. It’ll be nice to see Ras look when he realizes he lost to me one last time. And to have whole guardianship of my spleen he keeps on his bedside table again.

— What? — The other three sputtered.

— I won't kill anyone. But I will help you and be an ally. Even if that means losing the Titans and leaving behind everything I build here. All for (Y/N). — Tim spoke. Jason got up.

— Tim, you can't be serious too. — He received a glare in return.

— I am. You're invited to join us. Or to become our enemy.

Damian was staring at Tim, the brother he always had a strange relationship with, full of fights and sarcasm, but they always knew they could count on each other in the end. Because they were family.

Of course, it would be nicer to have you all to himself, but he also needed more allies, and brilliant minds like his own. It would also hurt to lose every person he loved while choosing you, even if he would always choose you in the end.

— … What if (Y/N) doesn't trust us after this? — Dick mumbled, trying to see both sides before making a decision.

— We’ll explain to them. About how we got rid of every single individual who wanted to isolate and steal them from us. How we want to care for them. Keep them safe. And how I- We, made the world a better place in the process. — Dick glared at him halfheartedly.

— We have a solid plan here, Dick. We Just have to form our strategies based on what we have. It will work!

Dick sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. He started walking around the apartment, contemplating, listening in on your apartment and Tim and Damian in the background, trying to convince Jason.

When even Jason seemed convinced, Dick knew what he had to do.

Everyone turned to him when he came back to the table again, in expectation.

He looked Damian in the eyes and put his hand on his little brother's shoulders. So grown. So different from what he was before meeting you. You brought the worst out of him. Out of all of them. And you didn't even know it. That was the worse part.

But Dick was always known for being a manipulator.

— Congratulations, you're the new Demon's Head.

Extra note: I'm curious to if you guys think Bruce was actually planning something and not just being regular canon Batman putting his morals above family👀

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

DC Taglist:

@wandalfnation @vadersassistant @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @hxsun4 @silverklaus @toast-on-dandelioms @bluewillbon @ladyel1x1r3l0p3r @wpdarlingpan @lilyalone @bloodyboi @gram-cracker24 @prongs-moon @sxftiebee

[sturniqlo]

PIERCINGS- CHRIS STURN

summary: y/n has a surprise for chris which leads to something... more. BLURB

cw: cursing, SMUT; titty fucking, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), making out, creampie, hickies, oral!male, cum eating, fingering

an: looks like this concept won the poll but for the people who voted for the matt one, i WILL eventually post it @sturnluvs - wanted to be tagged (if u ever want to be tagged just comment)

masterlist

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

"Hi, baby." Y/n walks through the door, making herself known to Chris. She can't help but bite her lip to suppress an excited smile. "Hi, babe. Missed you today. Had fun with your friends?" He walks through the foyer, seeing her taking her shoes off. "So much fun." She leans up to press her lips to his. He puts his hand on the small of her back and he bends forward slightly, making her arch her back. "I have a surprise for you." She murmurs against his lips. "Yeah?" He smirks. She hums.

After a couple more seconds of kissing they break the kiss. "Go sit on the bed." She ruffles his hair. "Okay, I like where this is going." Chris jokes, looking back as Y/n follows behind. "You're annoying." She laughs as she pushes his shoulders into the bedroom.

Chris follows past instructions and sits on the edge of the bed with her arms behind him. As she closes the door, she crosses her arms across her chest and walks towards her. "Close your eyes, baby." She whispers. "Okay." He closes his eyes and smirks. Y/n places each leg on either side of Chris' lap. "I'm loving your surprise so far." He starts to feel himself grow hard in his sweats. He pushes himself forward, eyes still closed, and puts his hands on her exposed torso. "You're about to love it even more I hope." She gets situated on his lap and reaches to the bottom of her shirt and carefully pulls it off.

"Fuck, did you take your shirt off?" Chris is definitely hard by now, and he fights the urge to take a peek. "Maybe." She says in a singsong tone. The cold wind hits her nipples making them pebble. She looks down, and sees that they look even better with a small silver bar between her nipples. She also catches a wet patch on Chris' grey sweats. "You're not wearing boxers?" He shakes his head. "Can I open my eyes now?" He asks. "Okay, go ahead."

Chris opens his eyes and is met with the sight of Y/n's tits in his face but, there's something decorating them. She got her nipples pierced. "Holy shit, babe." He moans at the sight and his dick gets even harder if that's even possible. "You like 'em?"She says. "Do I like them? Baby, I fucking love them. Oh my god." He slides his hands up to cup under each of her breasts. "Can I touch?" She nods. "Be gentle, they're a bit sore if there's too much pressure directly on them."

Chris gently swirls his finger across her left nipple and is in awe of her. "So pretty." He mumbles. Chris' gently puckers his lips and replaces his finger with his lips, leaving feather like kisses on her pebbled nipple. "Fuck, Chris." She whines. Her nipples even more sensitive. She feels her panties start to grow a wet patch. "Feels even better? Hm?" She nods and sighs with pleasure. Chris moves onto her right nipple, giving it the same attention.

Y/n slides her hand down to his bulge and squeezes. "You're so hard, baby." She gasps. Chris detaches himself from her and she lifts off his lap so she can tug his pants down. His cock springs out, his tip a bright pink leaking with pre-cum. "Can I?" He nods. She goes in her knees, and Chris scoots closer to the edge. Y/n grabs his dick. Spitting directly on it and watches it as it dibbles down, mixing with the milky liquid. "Please, baby." He whimpers. She kitten licks his tip before wrapping her mouth around his leaky tip. "Fuck, just like that." Chris grabs her hair and wraps it around his hand tugging gently.

She goes lower, taking as much as she can as tears fill her eyes from the pressure. "Doin' so good, lemme see my surprise, hm?" He pulls her hair so her mouth pops off. Instead, she pumps him in her hands as she arches her back. "You wanna fuck 'em?" He immediately nods. "Yes, yes, yes." He groans. "Go ahead, baby." Y/n says, pushing her chest forward, fixing her posture. Chris puts it cock in between here tits and Y/n gently squeezes them together. He start thrusting his hips forward and back.

"Holy fuck. Swear your tits were made for me." He throws his head back, moaning. "Yeah, you like fucking my tits?" She says, clenching her thighs together at the sight of a blissed out Chris. "Fucking love it." He moans. "Shit, squeeze me hard. M' almost there." She squeezes her tits hard together, loving the ache that comes with it. "Cum for me, Chris. Make a mess on me." With her words, he comes undone. "Holy- I'm cumming- fuck!" His cum paints her chest, she sticks her tongue out to catch any that lands on her face.

Chris, still semi-hard, throws himself back on the bed to try and catch his breath. Y/n gets up from her knees and unbuttons her jeans shorts and slides them down along with her thong. She climbs on his lap and leans over him. "That was hot." She says as Chris places his hands on her bare ass. He groans at the fact that she has taken her bottoms off. "Can I clean you up?" His eyes direct down to the cum on her collarbones and cleavage.

"Please do." She plants a kiss on his lips. They continue making out for a couple a minutes before Chris rolls them over without breaking the kiss and he's hovering over her. Disconnecting his lips from hers, she whines, Chris discards of his shirt before placing his lips back on hers. He breaks the kiss with biting her lip lightly and kissing down her jaw, to her neck, and licking his cum off of her. "Let me have a taste?" She pleads. Chris smirks, getting a finger and dragging it along a spurt of cum that landed where her boob starts. "Open up, ma." She sticks her tongue out, Chris placing his finger directly on her tongue, she closes her mouth around his finger and swirls her tongue around it, sucking on it here and there.

"Good girl." She lets go of his finger. He groans, going back to her neck. Kissing, sucking, biting. He leave a couple of hickies along her neck and on top of her tits. He loves seeing her littered with lovebites that he did and only he can see. "Want me to fuck your pretty pussy?" He whispers. Dragging a finger down her torso, stopping on top of her mound. "Yes, please, baby." She lifts her hips forward and his finger goes to her clit and she moans. "So greedy." He bits her neck. Rubbing her clit, she's a whimpering mess under him. "Let me stretch you first, yeah?" She nods fastly and he laughs. He drags his fingers down her slit and slowly pushes his finger in.

"Chris, oh my gosh." He slowly pulls his finger back and pushes it back in. "Want another?" He makes eye contact with her. Her eyes glosses over in pleasure and her cheeks a light shade of pink. "Yes, give me more." She whines. Chris wastes no time in inserting in middle finger. "Oh." She moans. "So wet, just for me right?" He continues to thrust his fingers in and out of her. The sound of her wetness makes his tip leak. "All for you. Just you, Chris." She brings her hand to the back of his head and kisses him and he fingers her.

Scissoring his fingers in her, makes her come closer to her orgasm. "Chris, I'm close. I want to cum on your cock." She pushes his hand away. Chris brings his hand up to his mouth and sucks his two fingers clean. Moaning at the taste of her arousal. "Ready?" He asks, as he lines his hard cock with her wet entrance. "Yes, so ready." He slowly pushes in until he bottoms out. "Oh shit." He pulls out until only his tip is inside of her. He slams his hips against her and they both moan loudly. "Fuck, Chris." As Chris thrusts his hips against her rapidly, he looks down to her tits and sees them bouncing, the shine of the bars between her nipples making him chase his orgasm faster.

"Fuck, babe. Look at your tits. So pretty." He brings a hand up and gently squeezes it. Y/n moans. "I'm so close." She feels the pressure in her lower belly. "Come for me, Y/n. Fucking wet my cock." He continues fucking her fast, his eyes looking up to her eyes and back down to her tits.

"I'm cumming, fuck- shit." She yells, baby hairs sticking to her forehead. Cheeks now a bright pink. "Fuck, I'm almost there." Chris groans, feeling her orgasm wetting his cock even more. "Shit, where do you want me to cum?" He says, out of breath. "Inside of me. Fill me up." She arches her back as she starts to feel sensitive. "Holy sh- I'm cumming. Fuck, fuck, fuck." He cums inside of her. Riding out his high.

Chris slowly pulls out, seeing the mixture of both of their cums leaking out of her. "Look that that, my god." He moans. Chris lazily lays down next to her. "I'm taking you like my new piercings?" She laughs. "Just a bit." He makes them laugh even more.

"Can I fuck them again?"

[rafeandonlyrafe]

reckless

words: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, male receiving oral, aged up!rafe (28), age gap (reader is 20), reader kinda dumb and stupid tbh, breaking and entering but actually technically she didnt break anything so just entering, urban exploring

“stay away from that house.” your friend warns, following your eyesight to get light shining from only one window, the rest of the house covered in shadow.

“why?” you question, curiosity growing.

“some asshole lives there. i guess he got real rich when he was young and now he spends all his time inside hiding. the whole island hates him but nothing he did was bad enough to land him in prison…” your friend gives you a serious look. “or at least nothing they can prove.”

you're new to the outer banks, but she already knows your personality. you're defiant and confident, afraid of nothing.

it's why despite her warnings the next night you're scaling up the fence and hopping over to the other side. you note the well taken care of yard, whoever this guy is must still employ a lawn crew.

you keep your footsteps light but unhurried as you walk around the exterior of the enormous house, still just the one window with a light on, like no one else has been in any other part of the home for a long time.

you figure a house like this might have security, but you live only a block away and would certainly get to your house before any cops would show up.

you peer in a few windows, but it's too dark inside to really make out anything. you make your way into the backyard, looking down the long dock to see a yacht. you consider exploring that first before shaking your head and focusing back in on the house.

in your old city, you had a habit of breaking into places. not to steal or damage anything, just for the thrill of getting in and looking around, knowing you're not supposed to be there.

you peer in through the glass doors. it's not that late, only 11pm, but you figure the old man who lives here must already be upstairs and hopefully asleep as you grip the handle.

you wait to hear an alarm from just your touch, but when the house remains silent, you attempt to turn the handle, surprised and happy that it's completely unlocked as you slide it open.

you step into the living room, looking around at the intricate and clearly expensive decorations. your friend was definitely right about this guy being rich, but of course he is if he lives in a neighborhood like this.

“damn.” you mutter to yourself, stepping closer to a fancy vase sat on a table. you purposely leave the glass door open in case you need to make a quick escape out.

your eyes take in every piece of art hung on the wall and gold detailed lamps as you head further into the house, peeking into rooms as you quickly map out the layout. you note the stairs in the center hallway leading up, able to tell there's one light on and deciding quickly to avoid it.

you make like the rush of breaking into places, but you certainly don't like getting caught as you tiptoe into the kitchen next. out of pure curiosity, you open a couple cabinets to find them well stocked.

you focus in on the fridge next. you don't intend to steal but maybe this guy has a couple bottles of beer that won't be missed.

you frown when you realize it's mostly healthy food and energy drinks as you close the fridge, practically jumping out of your skin when you realize there's a tall man with his arms crossed, leaning against the cabinet.

“what are you doing here?” you yell, backing up and putting the island between you and him.

“bold of you to ask me that considering you're the one breaking into my house.” the man's voice is easy going and gentle despite the circumstances.

“your house?” you look the guy up and down. “i thought the guy who lived here was old.”

he moves to the island, placing himself directly in the middle so you can't bolt away, a movement you're very aware of.

“and what made you think that?” he questions. it's hard to tell in the low light, only the faint glow of buttons on the fridge and a bit of moonlight creeping in, but he looks young. your guess is late 20s or early 30s, not like the senior citizen you were picturing.

“my friend told me some asshole-” you cringe at the bad choice of words but continue on. “lives here who got rich when he was young.”

“hm, yeah that does sound like me.” the guy hums. “so what, you were gonna steal from me?”

“no.” you quickly shake your head. “i don't steal, i have no need. i just… like urban exploring.” you decide on saying.

“mmm, isn't that usually exploring abandoned places?” he questions, somehow still carrying on the conversation so naturally, like you're an invited guest rather than a trespasser.

“i thought this place was basically abandoned. like i said, thought you were old.” you shrug.

“well, im only 28, so if you consider that old.” he crosses his arms, muscles bulging.

“im 20.” you say, swallowing thickly. 

you can see the gleam in the man's teeth as he smiles. “interesting… come with me.”

his command is so effortless, you find your feet moving before your mind catches up, following him deeper into the house and up the stairs.

“what are you going to do with me?” you ask, worrying he's going to call the cops. your parents would be pissed if only a week after they move you out of the big city you get arrested again.

“did your friend happen to tell you why i stay in this house?” he hums, opening a door and beckoning you in. you quickly realize this is the bedroom with the lights always on.

“um, just that you did something and no one likes you.”

“that's exactly right, even though i did nothing wrong. i only ever wanted to protect my family.” you see anger briefly take over his features as he relieves whatever memory that made him so hated. “but still, it's hard being lonely.”

he takes a couple steps forward, swinging the door shut behind him to keep the two of you in there, alone. “it's why id like your company…”

“y/n.” you mumble your name. you don't bother to give a fake name.

“y/n.” the name rolls seamlessly off his tongue, like a purr. “im rafe.”

“what do you mean by company, rafe?” now that you're in the light and can get a good look at him, you're hoping it's what you're thinking.

“isn't it obvious?” he quirks his head to the side. “i want you to sleep with me.”

“okay.” you whisper. you're certainly not inexperienced or against sleeping with random guys, even if your friend did warn you about him. you've already gone two whole weeks without getting anything, and you're starting to feel a little high strung.

“perfect.” rafe crosses past you, placing himself on the edge of the. neatly made bed. “undress.”

his command is once again so simple and effective that your hands begin moving instantly, pulling off your tank top to reveal your bright pink bra before sliding your shorts down next to show off the matching underwear.

you turn your back towards rafe and look over your shoulder as you slide your panties down, revealing your bare ass and pussy before kicking off your sandals. 

you walk over to rafe slowly, a smile on your face as you undo the last piece of clothing covering you and let your bra drop to the floor.

“fuck, you're sexy.” rafe leans forward and grabs you, hands gripping your ass, squeezing the plump flesh there. he doesn't bother to wait for you to recover as he sits you onto his lap, cunt being pressed into his thigh as his mouth devours yours.

you can feel his need in the kiss, how starved he is from touch as you begin to kiss back, hands rubbing all over his front.

you only briefly stop the kiss to yank his shirt off. you're not surprised by his muscles, you could tell how perfectly built he was even in the dark kitchen.

rafe begins to slide your pussy against his pants, wetting his thigh as your clit drags against the material.

“fuck, you're already so wet.” rafe moans into your mouth. you don't pause to tell him that you always get a little bit wet in excitement when breaking into a new place.

“let me blow you.” you slide off, already missing the feeling on your pussy as you pull at rafes pants. he lifts his hips to help you and you waste no time, pulling his underwear down as well.

rafes cock pops up, hard and ready for attention. you push his thighs open with your hands so you can nestle between his legs, smiling as you watch a bead of precum from before licking it clean.

“god.” rafe groans, a hand fisting in your hair, tangling his fingers into the strands. “it's been so long since someone else has touched me.”

you feel bad for rafe in that moment, but it's quickly forgotten in favor of wrapping your lips around the head of his cock and giving it an intense suck, wanting to show him a truly good time.

you begin to bob your head, slowly taking more and more of his length into your mouth. he's not the biggest you've ever gotten with, but his girth certainly makes up for it as you get used to him pushing at the walls of your throat.

you'll certainly need more attention to your pussy to be able to take him as you reach down and rub your fingers against your clit, wanting to jump on his cock the second you're done blowing him.

“how are you only 20?” rafe asks, talking mostly to himself considering your mouth is occupied. “you suck dick so well.”

you don't want to comment that you've had lots of experience, but you have a feeling he won't judge you for it. so many guys sleep around yet want every girl to be a virgin, and that's certainly something you don't subscribe to.

with a final push, you're able to take rafe all the way down as you nuzzle your nose into his skin, gagging slightly but able to hold for a decently long time before you need to pull off to take a deep breath.

“come up here, baby.” rafe says, tugging your hand that isn't still playing with your pussy. “want to fuck you.”

you wipe your mouth before standing up, glad you weren't on your knees for long as you move onto the bed.

“fuck me good, daddy.” you purr out, staying on your hands and knees and swaying your ass to entice rafe as he moves behind you.

“oh, i will baby.” rafe rubs his cock through your folds, not bothering to offer to put on a condom when you so clearly don't care.

rafe teases you, pressing slightly against your entrance before going back to rubbing against you until you're frustrated and aching. you're about to open your mouth to complain, to tell him to hurry it up, when his cock plunges inside of you in one quick motion that has you screaming out.

“oh, fuck!” you squeal as rafe instantly begins pounding into you.

rafe smiles as he looks towards the window, slightly cracked. he hopes the neighbors hear your screams and moans of pleasure and learn that he's not just willing to stay inside for the rest of his life. no, rafe is crafting his revenge against the town and when the time comes, they will all regret the way they treated him.

rafe looks down at you as he thrusts into you, your head hung forward and curls bouncing with every movement as he punishes your cunt.

“shit.” rafe groans, pulling out to quickly flip you onto your back.

his mouth meets yours just as his cock reenters you, kissing you wildly while he thrusts without abandon, letting himself loose on you.

rafe can feel himself swelling inside of you and tries his best to hold back from cumming, fingers reaching to your clit to focus on your pleasure before his own, wanting to extend this as long as possible.

“god, you feel so good.” you moan out, jaw slackened even as rafe continue to kiss around your mouth, eyes glossed over in pure pleasure.

“yeah?” rafe smiles. “you gonna cum for me?”

“mhm. keep- keep rubbing.” you tilt your head back as he swipes over your clit, back and forth, building you up while his cock fills out your insides.

“come on, baby.” rafe moans out, kissing you again, unable to stop even though he wants to hear your moans. his hips move faster and faster until he can't hold back anymore, pulling out and releasing all over your stomach in long ropes.

you squeal out as he pinches your clit, triggering your own orgasm as your entire body shakes, back arching off the bed.

“fuck!” you shout. “rafe!”

you both flop against the mattress, breathing heavily as you recover, pussy dripping wet onto his blankets.

“thanks for the company.” rafe smiles, causing you to laugh.

“yeah, always happy to stick around.” you giggle, leaning into his side. there's certainly no shame cuddling up to him after what you just did.

“would you… would you come back tomorrow?” rafe asks, pushing a strand of hair off where it was sticking to your face.

“first week in a new town and i already found myself a fuck buddy? hell yeah ill come back tomorrow.” you kiss rafe quickly before standing up off his bed, putting your tanktop and shorts back on but leaving your wet panties and bright bra on the floor.

“but have pizza, im a classy girl after all, i only let you fuck me once before buying me dinner.” you walk out of the bedroom to rafes deep chuckle.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

God ever since reading A Gilded Cage I cant get the thought out of my head of a part 2 where Reader doesn't see Jason for a few days after the revelation. Like maybe he thinks he's being kind and giving us some time to process, maybe he's on his angst again, or maybe some outside factor has taken his attention so the only time he's able to visit is while we're asleep.

And the whole night of the reveal feels like a fever dream when we wake up but there's a blanket draped over us and a fuzzy little kitten purring up a storm on our chest (in my heart his name is Bean (short for Toebean)), so we're at least kind of sure it happened. But as the time passes with no sign of Jason our certainty begins to wane and until we finally get fed up and write on the notepad the first thing we've asked for since that night: "You."

Or something like that idek okay I've been over here clawing at my walls frothing at the mouth I never really even liked ak!Jason before reading your stuff and now I'm feral for him and its all your fault and I'm not even mad about it

A Glimmering Collar

AKA Part Two of this series. Ahh, nonnie, you literally cooked with this. I love when my fics inspire people enough to keep thinking on them! Seriously, ty for dropping these ideas in my inbox cause I had nothing going on in my brain for a part two initially. Hope you enjoy!

~2.6k words

You wake up to something tickling your nose. Your body feels heavy, your mind even more so. Nothing in you is ready to open your eyes, to face the fact that last night could all have been a dream. That he isn't– that was just a dream.

Something soft flicks your nose again, and you force your eyes open. You blink hard once. Then twice. It's a kitten. It's tiny, and it's sitting by your face. Every few seconds, its tail sways and brushes your nose.

Oh. You sit up slowly, trying not to frighten the small thing. It looks at you contently over its shoulder and meows. The kitten stretches as you stare at it, then plops itself directly on the blanket resting over your lap.

Huh. There's a blanket you definitely don't remember grabbing sprawled over your legs. You carefully reach down to pet the kitten's head. Your heart melts a little when it nuzzles your fingers and purrs.

You look around the room slowly. Nothing else looks different. The notepad is still in place, but the kitten and blanket all point to one thing. Last night was real. Jason is alive. Jason is the Arkham Knight.

You're trying to wrap your brain around that when the door flies open, nearly making you jump out of your skin.

"Good morning!!" A flurry of voice call from the doorway. Your eyes widen as three brightly dressed people strut their way into your apartment, "Are you ready for your shopping trip, hun?"

"My– excuse me?" You stumble out, tucking the kitten to your chest as you stand.

They giggle, and one of them steps forward, "Your shopping trip, sweetie! And spa day, of course. Oh, ha, we haven't even been introduced, have we? I'm Krystal with a K, she's Destini with an i and he's Robbi also with an i."

Robbi huffs and walks up to you to pet your kitten, "Why can't you ever introduce Destini second? She can be Destini also with an i, ya know."

The other girl walks up to you as well and picks affectionately at your clothes, "Because it's alphabetical that way, Robbi. Now you better go get dressed, we have brunch reservations and mimosa plans!"

"I– sorry? What?" You ask, eyes darting between the three of them. Whatever this is, you can't keep up. You've barely processed Jason kidnapped you, and now you're supposed to go get a massage and drinks?

"The boss wants you to go out," a flat voice cuts in. You're the only one that stiffens at the sight of two large men stepping through the door.

Krystal speaks up, "We're here to make sure you have a good time! And Mack and John are here to keep us safe!"

"Mack and John," You echo weakly.

"Your body guards, silly," Destini chirps, ushering you to your room. She plucks the kitten from your hands, "Now get dressed! Wear something nice!"

You stare at the door as she shuts it. What just happened? You hear them chattering happily in the kitchen, idly talking about pregaming your shopping trip.

Your whole mind is a mess, and you sluggishly get ready, thoughts whirling. You've barely talked to soul since you were kidnapped, and now you have five new names to remember, a kitten, and a day out.

You're not exactly sure if you should be unsettled or grateful at how quickly Jason worked to get you what you asked for. By the time you've opened your bedroom door, Krystal, Destini and Robbi are passing around a flask, and playfully trying to get your 'bodyguards' to drink it.

You wonder what they must think of all this. Who they think you are. You're struck with the realization that Jason must be paying them to entertain you today.

You don't get to linger on the thought before Robbi hooked his arm with yours, dragging you towards the door, "Let's gooo, the brunch place we're going to does the best pineapple mimosas. Or cherry, if that's your thing."

"Wait," Mack– or John, you're not exactly sure which one is which– stops you, "Boss wants you to wear this."

The girls and Robbi coo in awe when Mack opens a box, revealing a glittery, jaw-dropping choker. You waver at the sight of it. It's not that it doesn't match what you're wearing. You'd dressed up like Destini suggested, but it feels like some kind of trap.

You reluctantly pick up the necklace, eyeing how it catches the light, "Is it– are sure it's safe to wear this out?" Safety isn't really what you're concerned about at the moment.

You're more worried about the crushing weight that this means more than you understand.

John nods once, "There won't be any problems."

Krystal happily plucks the necklace from your fingers, and before you have time to argue, she drapes the necklace around your throat. "It's beautiful, hun. Just like you. Let's go get you something to eat," her voice is soft, measured, and full of so much understanding it makes you want to cry.

You don't know much they know, but when she hooks her arm with yours to guide you out the door, you have a feeling there's more awareness than their bubbly attitudes let on.

The day ends up being wonderful. Being around people, out under the sun (the sun Gotham does get), was rejuvenating. You had fun, joked, smiled, and for a day, it was almost like you didn't have a prison cell to go back to.

The food was delicious, the spa relaxing, and you didn't have to carry back a single bag. Krystal had flashed a black card at every payment, every place ever could want to shop at, reassuring you it's all been taken care of.

But the time you've collapsed on the couch, exhausted but content, the uneasy feelings from this morning are gone.

You settle on the cushions to wait for Jason. To thank him for listening or to yell at him for still keeping you here, you're not exactly sure yet.

But he doesn't come, you fall asleep in your expensive necklace and pretty clothes with one hand petting your kitten. He doesn't come the next day either, at least not while you're awake, but Krystal, Destini, and Robbi do.

Your friends, the people being paid to entertain you are nice, perfect even. They're exactly what you would have asked for.

Your kitten is perfect too, it cuddles with you at night and nuzzles under your chin after you're left alone, when the unease finds its way back to you.

It's been days since you've seen him. It's starting to feel like a lifetime. You know he comes back after you fall asleep, he moves things. You think it's his way of showing that he listened, that he came back because you asked.

The notepad, the one you haven't written on since that night, shifts closer to you on the glass table if you sleep on the couch.

The glimmering choker gets pulled out of the drawer every time you try to put it away. Your kitten has a growing collection of toys and things to climb on.

It's obvious he's visiting, so why won't he let you see him? Day five of dancing around each other breaks you. You want to see him, want to talk to him, and understand. You want Jason.

Your hand shakes a little, when you go to write on the notepad, and when you wake up the next morning, the paper is blank again.

You wait. You wait some more. All day you wait for him. No one else comes. It's strangely quiet, with just you and your kitten. You've just about given up, collapsed in your bed, when the glowing whites of his helmet catch your attention.

You sit up quickly and throw your legs off the bed as you stare into the doorway, "You came."

"Did you mean it," he asks, any emotion he's feeling hidden by the aggravating modulator.

"Mean what," You question, standing off the bed to walk closer to him, "Will you take the mask off?"

He doesn't move for a moment, just takes in the sight of you. The silence that drags almost makes you regret the question, but he carefully pulls off his helmet, "What you wrote. That you wanted me."

"I– yeah, Jason. I haven't– it's been days since I saw you," You only notice mid sentence that his hand is reaching for your face, it makes your voice waver. "You never answered any of my questions," You finish weakly.

His hand stills and he drops it, "Questions. That's what you wanted?"

You nod a little, searching his face for any hint of what he's feeling, but he gives nothing away.

He sighs softly, and looks away, adjusting his helmet under his arm. You think he might look disappointed, "I can't give you the answers you're looking for."

"Why not," You question softly, worried to push him away.

Jason turns his focus back to you, "I just need you to stay here. Please," he sighs out your name, and his hand twitches as if to touch you, "Don't fight me on this."

"That's not fair," You mumble, "Why am I here, Jason? You know I would have listened if you came to talk to me instead of– this."

Silence falls again, and he steps past you into your room. He sets his helmet on your dresser and picks up the choker resting on the wooden surface, "I wish you would wear this. I picked it out for you."

"Jason," You start, tracking his movements.

"I know," he cuts you off, "but I told you, you don't need to understand anything." You stiffen when he steps back towards you and guides you to turn around.

The air leaves your lungs as his gloves brush over your skin. He sets the necklace around your throat, and even after it rests heavy against your skin, his touch lingers.

"You just need to stay here. It's safe. I've given you everything you've asked for, and everything you haven't," Jason says softly, stepping out from behind you. His gaze lingers on your neck for a moment, and the stifling, unexplainable feeling sets back into your gut.

Your words stick in your throat. There's a sense of danger, one that doesn't make sense. Jason wouldn't hurt you. Not the Jason you know. But is this the Jason you know? The thought makes you want to tear the choker from your skin and throw it at him.

"It feels like a collar," You say quietly, and your breath hitches when his gaze snaps go yours, "I mean, it's pretty. Really. But, it feels– like it's more," You stumble out.

He nods slowly, and he doesn't stop himself from touching you this time. His fingers trace the choker, linger over your collarbones, brush along your pulse, "Maybe it is."

You blink at him, every thought flying from your brain, "What?"

He hums softly, hooking a finger under the shiny jewels to draw you closer, "Does that scare you? Knowing that you can't leave? Knowing that no matter how pretty these are, it's just another way to keep you?"

"You wouldn't hurt me," you say instead, it sounds like you believe it, but you're not sure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.

"I don't want to," He admits, fingers leaving your throat to trail up your jaw, "but I probably could."

"I don't believe that. I remember–" He tuts, tapping your cheek. Your heart drops when you realize he's mirroring where his own brand is.

"I'm not what you remember," he says firmly, before whispering your name, "I'm not that Jason. Not really."

"Then who are you," You ask, even though you don't want to know the answer. You want to pretend he's still something you know.

His eyes dart over your face, then back down to the necklace, "I'm still Jason. But I'm also the Arkham Knight."

"What does that mean," You push, reach up to grab his wrist, demanding his attention, demanding real answers.

"It means that you stay. It means that I give you what you want. Everything and anything except leaving," he says, voice lowering to something kinder, gentler, "it'll make sense eventually. You'll be happy here. Safe."

"Will that make you happy?" You ask, fingers tightening on his wrist. Half of you wants to pull him away, stop him from tracing patterns over your cheek, but the other part of you wants to press his hand closer.

Something flicks in his eyes at your words, "Yes."

"Will it keep you safe?" You murmur, eyes locked on his.

He doesn't answer, clenching and unclenching his jaw for a moment, "Safety is an option I don't have."

"It could be, if you wanted it," You say, dropping his wrist. It must be true. Even with all the secrets he's keeping, his evasive disappearing act, he could take off the armor. Leave behind the new symbol engraved over his chest.

He laughs a little and swipes his thumb under your eye, "I'm glad that you don't understand. It's good, that they didn't twist you into something unrecognizable."

"Understand?" You prompt, unsettled by his laughter.

"That they need to pay. All of them do," he smiles a little, it's a mockery of the one you remember. Jason traces the choker one last time before stepping back.

"You're leaving," You say, not a question, a statement of fact. He's leaving, without explaining anything again.

"I am," he affirms, moving to grab his helmet.

"I want you to stay," You breathe out and he freezes in place.

He exhales softly and faces you again, "You don't know what you're asking."

"I do. I want you to stay," You repeat, reaching out to push his helmet back towards the dresser.

"And then what?" He asks lowly, a warning, "What do you expect to happen?"

It makes you waver, "I– I don't know. But it's what I want."

It's another long moment of nothing before he answers, gesturing towards the bed, "Go to sleep."

"You'll stay?"

He nods at your question, unceremoniously dragging the chair from your desk to your bedside.

"Is that going to be comfortable–" You begin, settling yourself in the bed.

"You're overthinking it," he mumbles, waving at you to lay down. You do, watching as your kitten jumps into his lap, curling up like this is something that happens all the time. (You have the feeling it is) "Have you named him," he asks quietly.

"The kitten? Mm, no. Wanted you to," You say softly, carefully not to unsettle either of them.

"I wouldn't be good at it," Jason protests, eyes flicking between you and the kitten.

"I don't mind," You murmur, "anything's better than 'kitten'."

He pauses, so quiet and still you think he won't answer, "Bean," he mumbles, reluctant as the newly appointed Bean cuddles into his armor.

You smile, "Bean's a good name."

He doesn't answer, seemingly engrossed with watching the kitten.

You take him in for another moment, memorizing his face before closing your eyes. It's not an accident that you leave your palm open and face up by the side of the bed.

There's no more pleasantries exchanged, no sweet goodnights or the gentle touches against your face you've grown used to. But just as you finally start to drift off, as darkness finally draws you to rest, a warm, rough hand weaves itself into yours and squeezes.

Part Three

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Baby fever Scenarios and Headcanons with Husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley (Ghostie)

Thank my baby godson for this one, if it hadn't been for him having me take care of him for the whole day then I wouldn't have anything to write because as of now I have no motivation or ideas to continue my past wips. Render credits are all to the lovely @ave661 who keeps feeding us. My little godson still sleeping on my chest, drool, snore and all as I'm writing this. I can't move, please send help. This is so short too, sorry to disappoint you guys 😭

Y'all CANNOT tell me I'm the only one who thinks of Simon "Ghost" Riley having baby fever from his own children (I would give him more, all he needs to do is ask 😭). Also these are basically moments of Simon with Ghostie, just a bit more general in terms of the baby's gender since some of y'all want boy!dad Simon but originally Ghostie is a girl.

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thesnowurzikdjinn @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @trepaika @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who loves to toss the baby up in the air, simply just for amusement and both of them needed entertainment. Safe to say Soap never did that until the little one was a lot older because when he did it, he ended up with a glob of drool on his face.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who is always so vocal with his baby, you could just tell the influence of him talking to the baby. Just the rumble of his voice sends the tiny one into a fit of giggles while they're on his chest.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who was influenced by you to do that viral thing on the internet, people throwing a slice of cheese on their crying baby to make them stop. It worked and they ate it.. now he keeps the fridge stocked with sliced cheese for that reason.

❥ Babyfever!Husband!Simon who was determined to assemble everything, baby's crib, the car seat.. though the bottle sterilizer was something he needed your help with. Both of you trying to figure where the missing piece went only to find your little one chewing on it.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who comes home late at night yet his little one follows him like a mother duck, as much as he wants to, Simon refused to have contact until he's out and squeaky clean from a shower. Always worrying about how they might catch something from outside while the little one is directly outside the bathroom door waiting for their dad and peeking from the little space underneath the door, knocking every 3 minutes for dada to come out.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who has the time of his life teaching the baby CPR, it started as a joke between the 141 and now your baby knows the word and knows what to do in response to it, the bunny stuffie is the one receiving the medical attention with the little crisp giggle after Simon praises them.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who you find laughing his ass off at Soap who was forced by the puppy eyes of your little one to wear a pink tutu that was on the verge of breaking from his size, glittered fairy wings that were made of wire and horrid quality of pink mesh fabric, a plastic tiara and a light up fairy wand. They forced him to do ballet. (Gaz definitely had that as his phone's wallpaper for a month)

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who love cherishing little moments of how the world reminds him of how naive, dumb and gullible his little one could be. Having a leash kid yet for a completely different reason from misbehaving and being too hyperactive. Walking on a bridge with him over a river as a little family outing at the park when your little one pointed at the aggressive stream of water underneath, Simon jokingly asking them if they want to be tossed in and without a word they turn to you with their arms up and wiggling for uppies. When that didn't work they turned to their dad doing the same thing, making Simon chuckle so much that he almost coughed as they slowly let their arms drape back down to their sides, little pout in disappointment. You playfully glared at your husband, having to explain to a toddler why they can't swim in a strong stream of dirty water.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who is very much amused about how the baby likes his stuble, hoping he won't cause a rash to them because of how much they press their face into his. He makes sure it's extremely well kept after the very first time it happened 😭.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who loves seeing his toddler in their sleep shirt which is basically just his shirt drooping on the floor because it's too big for them but the they're chunky enough to keep it on themselves. Just thinking of Simon hearing the loud stomps of footsteps approving their bedroom, the short pause of silence before the frantic sound of the door knob jingling, he always knew who was about to enter the room. Holding their bunny stuffie while pulling on the blanket of their dad's side of the bed to ask him for help to climb up.

[transvampireboyfriend]

Eddie would come up with the most elaborate schemes to kiss Steve for the first time.

here's mine: He realizes Steve is a gossip early on, like the first time they all hang out someone mentions a rumour in passing and Steve latches on. Eddie is delighted. He's enamoured by the twinkle in Steve's eyes and the intensity in his probing, even the enthusiasm in giving out the information he has about the people in question.

So Eddie knows what he has to do.

Whenever Eddie sees or hears something that frankly should not be any of his business he makes sure to tell Steve. He doesn't mention it to anybody else and most of the time he doesn't care about it much, but he needs to tell Steve.

And he only does it when it's just the two of them. He finds Steve in a secluded corner of the Family Video, says "i think my boss is cheating on his wife" and is rewarded with a gasp.

He follows after Steve when he goes to refill the popcorn in the middle of movie night and casually asks "you know who I saw the other day coming out of Laura's house at 3am?" Steve raises his eyebrows higher than Eddie has ever seen.

He calls Steve at midnight on a Wednesday and opens with "my neighbors are definitely getting back together" Steve answers with a devastated "noooo!"

He leaves the kids in the cookie aisle to go catch up to Steve and lean on the shopping cart shoulder to shoulder and whisper "dont look now, but Heather and Monica are here together, right behind us. They ARE dating" Steve looks immediately.

And Eddie's not only excited about his initial reactions, but he thanks the heavens for his discovery because it gets him Steve's total, undivided attention every.fucking.time. without fail.

Steve turns fully to him, touches Eddie's arms for emphasis, shoves him when Eddie says something dumb, tugs on a strand of his hair a bit when Eddie says something silly, opens his eyes SO wide or squints at him and his eyelashes look sooo pretty. Steve leans in and whispers back and grins and teases and scrunches his nose in the most adorable gesture Eddie has ever seen in his life.

With practice, Eddie goes from having to give Steve's shoulder a back handed slap to get his attention, to just looking at him directly for like 5 seconds and then Steve knows Eddie has something to tell him.

so he does it at dinner, on a nondescript date at a nondescript hour because, mostly, Eddie just kinda can't take it anymore.

He's listening to Steve tell this story about a costumer and frankly, forgets to look away from him and Steve interprets this as Eddie having something to say. He cuts himself off, tilts his head and asks "what?" with mirth in his voice.

Eddie smiles, a little mischievous and says "c'mere I have to tell you something"

Steve smiles back, but says "we're the only ones here, Eds" gesturing to his kitchen.

Eddie rolls his eyes a bit and threatens "do you want me to tell you or not?"

Steve leans across the table, his cut off tank almost touching their spaghetti.

Eddie wants to shove his hands through the armpit holes, but he settles for holding Steve's jaw and threading his fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

Steve's lips are as soft and warm as he expected, he tastes of the red sauce they cooked together and he smells good enough to eat. Eddie indulges in a thorough kiss but keeps it short.

No matter how many times Steve looks at him like he's the most interesting person in the room, he hasn't outright said that he likes Eddie like that, so he'd rather be careful.

Eddie pulls back and finds Steve smiling, his eyes closed still.

Steve blinks his eyes open and looks at Eddie, his tongue darts out to swipe across his lips and he says "I think that's the best one you've told me yet"

Eddie snorts and feels his cheeks burn "Yeah?" he asks.

"Mmhm" Steve confirms against his lips, already kissing Eddie again.

It takes a while, but eventually Eddie realizes Steve doesn't only give him his undivided attention when he has gossip. He does it pretty much all the time.

Maybe at some point it expanded to everything Eddie has to say.

Or maybe it was like that all along.

[hazelfoureyes]

HAZELLLL OH BOY DO I HAVE A GOOD IDEAAAA

OKOK so what if doe! Reader is with vox and readers in heat right right????

But vox can't help reader break it (he's been trying for hours)

So he has to call alastor to help you since he's the only deer vox knows of

Oh my goddd

Hohoho good night awquar 💖

Cucking Vox

「warnings/promises: Vox x Female doe reader, Alastor x female doe reader, smut, Cucking the TV man, knotting, heat, pussy flooded, Alastor says “good girl”, hell is heaven now, you’re engaged but meh, drones were not made for this, Breeding???, humilation of the flat headed prince, Vox loves you, but your pussy love Alastor」

Minors I stg! DNI!

It had been all morning. He didn’t mind the stamina required, but his love was still suffering. Nothing was satiating your needs, even when he went out of his way to transform his typically human male prick into something more akin to the wider based cock you needed …. It was still not enough.

As you laid supine and open, the artificial knot full and stuck in you, the whines didn’t stop. It didn’t have the heat your cunt knew a proper mate would have. His load was too small, your womb quivering in need with every pathetic release he buried in you. A real knot would pulse with the heart rate of the buck claiming you. 

“Nothing?” Vox’s voice was high and worried. 

“I mean… it’s something.” Grumbled into a pillow. You ground against him but it was useless to calm your burning walls. Ever hour that passed without being properly fucked became torturous. 

“What does it feel like? Not getting, ya know,” suddenly he felt shy, voicing the thing he was lacking, “knotted.”

You considered sparing him the truth but your animal brain said it before your human one could stop it, “It hurts. It feels like my pussy is on fire. Do you know how sometimes the roof of your mouth itches and you can’t scratch it? That. For fucking hours.”

Seeing you in pain hurt him, deeper than he could handle. How could he have so much money and power and feel so worthless for you now?

Did he truly have no resources? No recourse? No remedy? 

As he watched your large doe ears press back into your skull, the solution came to him.

“One minute babe, you just…” Vox halted as you rolled on your side, fingers coming to your center to have some friction, “Keep doing that…”

· · ─────── ·����📻· ─────── · ·

When the drone approached his patio table,  he didn’t look up. 

When Vox’s voice crackled through the small speaker, he didn’t look up.

When the question, “How much for you to fuck my fiancée?” was shouted at him, he admittedly choked a little on his coffee and finally acknowledged the device.

“Why on earth would I do that?” Alastor set the mug down to keep from breaking it in his hand.

“To humiliate me.”

A beat.

A hum.

A twirl of his staff.

“Well in that case, for free!”

Vox blinked twice as he stared at the monitor, “Wait, really?”

Alastor mulled it over seriously now. Did he want to have sex right now? No, not really. Did the idea of making Vox’s future wife scream his name sound hilarious? Yes absolutely. 

He shrugged, getting up from his chair as the drone spun around him, “Shit, I didn’t expect you to agree.”

“So you don’t want me to bed your gal?” Alastor smiled, “Then I’m definitely in.”

Vox chewed on a claw, “Fuck! Fine just get down here. And I don’t owe you any favors for this, so don’t even fucking ask.”

“Oh Vox, favors? You’re hardly the one I’d go to when in need. You’re not even the first Vee I’d approach! Ha!”

Before he could crash the drone directly into that smug face, he heard your whimpers from the bedroom down the hall and paused. 

“Just”, Vox cradled his screen in his hands, “hurry up.”

It became immediately clear why his former partner had called him of all people when Alastor exited the elevator into Vox’s personal floor.

The living quarters were swimming in the heady scent of arousal. Specifically, a doe. 

Alastor rolled his eyes, of course Vox found one of the few other deer demons in the pride ring to marry.

“Ooh, you are in a pickle, huh?” He leaned against the door frame, taking in the sight of the overlord rubbing your back as you groaned. His eyes fell immediately to the downturned tail above your bare cheeks. “Poor thing.” He cooed.

You couldn’t find the will to turn your head to look. A growled, “Voxy?”

“He’s here to help, babe.” His hands sped up their massaging swirls.

“Who, exactly?”

“Alastor! The radio demon. A plea-,” He began but couldn’t finish. 

Vox laughed nervously, “He’s a deer demon! Like you!” 

“You grabbed a random deer demon off the street to-,”

“No! Not at all! Though, admittedly, the only other deer demon I know.” As you made a noise of disapproval, he added, “He’s an overlord! An old pal, even.”

You heard the strange man guffaw. Finally, you rolled over to lay eyes on the supposed cavalry your beau had summoned.

Oh. 

“Hmm.” Something in you unspoken yet still demanding made you roll into your back and drop your knees open. 

He hadn’t anticipated a fellow deer in heat. Vox had offered him more than just fucking his girl, it turned out. Alastor had come mostly expecting to laugh in Vox’s face as a second best humiliation and head to cannibal town, but seeing how Vox was so desperately in love, well, how could he say no? What more delicious of a meal could exist than splitting open Vox’s ego while splitting open his doe with the same effort.

Still on the bed, Vox felt the air shift as he stood between Alastor and you. 

“Well, I uh, guess I’ll leave you two to it.” His screen flashed a pink haze of embarrassment.

“Oh? Abandoning her already?” With a snap and a flourish of his fingers, a plush reading chair materialized on the opposite side of the bed. “Take a seat, old chum.”

“You can’t be serious.” 

Alastor loosened his bowtie, “You’d really leave your vulnerable and needy betrothed all alone with a man? Tsk tsk.”

Vox laughed, “You’re not a man.”

“Ooh, correct.” Alastor reached the bed, undoing his belt, “I’m a buck, right little one?” When his hand reached out and slid down your calf you trembled. Even his skin on yours felt different than Vox’s. “Now take a seat.”

His flat face turned to you, who could only nod as a long claw dragged down your shin.

Vox settled into his chair and crossed his arms. He wanted to say something snotty about how he would make more money on his cell during the little romp than Alastor could dream of, but the sound of Alastor’s zipper made his throat close.

“I’ll need a little assistance to catch up to you, sweetheart. Mind lending me a hand?” Alastor rested his knees on either side of your thighs,  body hovering over you as he knelt.

You briefly considered arguing, but as his other hand pulled his still soft cock from his pants and the scent of him hit your heightened senses, you found your body sitting up. Your hand went into his as he placed it around himself. His fist around yours as he showed you how to stroke him.

“Is that really necessary?” Vox’s voice seemed to glitch.

“Of course! I’m only capable of knotting when in rut. And a rut can only be triggered by a doe in heat. I’ll need her touch and scent to … get the show started, so to speak.” Alastor’s hand left yours, index finger coming to lift your chin. The first eye contact of the evening, funnily enough coming after skin met skin. 

Deep red eyes shone down on you behind a widening smile, “Good girl. I’ll take care of you.”

“You’re obnoxious.” You slurred, a second wave of his uniquely virile musk rolling off his heated crotch. “Good girl? You just met me you….Old timey…”, the lights in your brain shut off, “fuck. Fuck.” Your mind was a blank piece of paper, the word ‘breed’ scrawled haphazardly as your hand felt the weight of his erection. 

Vox had never seen you make that face, nor your eyes lose focus and dilate quite like that either. He couldn’t help but glance at the thick appendage in your fist.

A look shot to his own lap, he hadn’t considered girth into the equation… 

Your mouth opened, saliva pooling in your cheeks as you brought him to your lips. Alastor’s hand snaked back to grab you by the hair and gently keep you off of him, not needing someone’s spit slathered on his skin. 

“Okay now-“ As Vox interjected Alastor’s hand sat still on your head.

“I’ll allow it.” The radio demon had a change of heart at the upset tone of his former friend.

Your tongue blanketed your bottom lip to welcome Alastor in, cheeks hollowing from the size of him alone. Why did he taste like that? Like someone you should only view from your knees? A power to his sweat that made your pussy clench. 

Just a few bobs of your head and he was pulling you off, the job done when Vox seemed to slouch back into the chair in resignation. Large and warm hands guided you onto your back and then onto your right side. Your line of sight was your husband-to-be, claws digging into the fabric of his summoned chair.

It was nice to be handled in your heat. To have strong hands move you around your bed as they wanted you, that alone nearly distracted you from the throbbing of your pussy now showing behind your thighs. Alastor lifted your left leg and used it to pull you to him, a wanton whimper from you when he lined up.

His chuckle was more than annoying, but you were in no position to argue. The sound of impatient tapping momentarily took your focus away; Vox’s foot hitting the tile floor. Your eyes followed up his body to meet his stare just in time for you to let out a loud, shakey gasp. Another came before you could catch your breath, the stretch burning as Alastor pressed in.

He began small incessant thrusts, your slick lubricating his intrusion with each withdrawal.

Vox watched entranced as your body seemed to melt into the bed with every snap of the deer man’s hips. You had spent the morning tense and sweating, so to see you so lax and comfortable was momentarily reassuring. But as your head lolled back with Alastor bottoming out, a flame of jealousy began to roar in sincerity. 

“Fuck,” you tried to keep the commentary down to spare your love, but you could feel your walls spreading around Alastor in a way you’d been praying for since you woke up aroused and pained. When he was fully sheathed you had to grip your pillow to keep from rolling onto your back and spreading yourself wider for him. The baser part of your brain urging you to give yourself over to the more-than-suitable mate. 

“You sweet doe, you’re burning up inside. And so swollen. Feeling better?” Alastor said it with such a clear voice you wondered how he was unaffected by your twitching pussy. 

With a nod you buried your face into the pillow clenched in your fists. His thrusts slowed. “Yes,” you ground out. The rhythm picked up again.

“Better than Vox could manage?” He side eyed Vox.

Your left foot came up and pushed at his chin, “Shut up and fuck me.”

“Hmm, afraid I can’t do both,” Alastor pulled out entirely, lower head rubbing side to side as he spread his own precum along your folds. 

Closing your eyes to not see Vox, you mumbled, “Yes.” He wrapped his arms around your left leg for leverage and thrust back into you with a single push. With a shift of his hips his cock hit against your g-spot with every entry. Your breaths quickly devolved into raspy gasps.

You felt a rush of slick as your body responded to the stimulation. The sound of Alastor’s cock sliding in and out of your arousal reached Vox despite being a ways away from the bed. The previous flame in his chest began to lower. Watching your body rock along with the obscene sounds of you being fucked was having an unexpected effect on him. With a gulp he let his hand rest on his lap, a gentle pressure as he palmed his growing erection.

The deep reach of the radio demon’s cock churning up your insides was felt by you and seen by Vox.

“You’re doing so well, dear. Look how wet you’ve gotten.” One hand came down to run past your clit, “I promise to have you dripping.” He turned his head fully to Vox now, “That’s why I’m here, after all. To breed you.” Vox opened his mouth to shout when Alastor rolled you onto your stomach. The curve of his dick resumed hitting your inner spot, wide cock dragging against every inch of your walls. A pleasured cry, your pillow lost. Bringing your legs up and out you let instincts take over.

The yell died in Vox’s throat. His hand shifted to rubbing his cock through his pants. “Are you done yet?” He saw the swelling bulge at the base of Alastor’s own cock.

You didn’t hear the question, only processing sticky flesh slapping together and your own loud moans.

“My knot needs to be bigger. I want to make sure I plug her up well.” Alastor knew he could finish now but he just needed a few more moments of fucking with the overlord. His eyes came to watch himself disappear into your seemingly too small hole, “Is that what you want? To be stuffed with my knot?” 

You vaguely registered his gaze had moved from where you two connected up to your face. A hand coming to tug at your tail and grip it from the base tore an answer from you, “Please. Please, Please.”

“Do you remember my name in that brain fog?” He took both ankles now and pushed your legs as wide open as they’d reach.

Vox could see the shine on Alastor’s growing knot as he seemed to push more and more in with each thrust. His palm felt the slight damp of his precum soaking through his pants.

He had a name? Right. Yes he had a name. You dug through the mess of your thoughts, an empty room of smoke and sensations, and found it. “Alastor. Alastor please!” Vox had entirely disappeared, it was just the thick cocked buck pounding into you in your bed now. 

“Aww, that’s a good doe. And are you ready for my knot?” Your legs struggled in his grip as you attempted to thrust back onto him to take all he had for you. He hummed, hips slowly as he fought back the pending release, “But you’re still so tight… did Vox even try to fuck you?” 

Vox cried out a small, “Oh, come on. Jackass.” It didn’t stop his hand though. He couldn’t argue Alastor was thicker than he was, even his knot seemed unfairly large.

“Fuck you,” you managed, stomach muscles tightening and drawing your body toward him as the pleasure ratcheted up by leaps and bounds. 

Alastor pulled out entirely again, releasing your legs. The whimper you let out momentarily softened Vox’s cock. “I’m sorrrrry,” you pouted, “Come baaaack.” You thought you would cry, as soon as he was out of your cunt the painful throb was creeping back in. You needed his skin on yours. His body in yours. 

You were rolled onto your stomach, his hands wrapping around to pick you up by the hips. On all fours, he sunk back in. “Shh,” big palms stroke down your back, “don’t forget to breath, sweetheart.” Your body was meant to take a knot during heat and you knew you were capable of taking it, but a small panic made you crawl up the bed as the large, throbbing bulb threatened to tear the delicate skin of your opening. Those same powerful hands you praised before now dug fingers into your hips and held you still. Bruises he hoped Vox would have to see for days. 

A small sob as he mercifully forced the rest of himself in with one harsh thrust, his crotch finally coming into contact with your ass. Again, without thinking, you pulled away and saw stars. It took just a second though for your brain to flood your body with the feel good chemicals it had been withholding all day. The pulsing knot vibrating against your puffy g-spit, wide cock head just barely breaching your cervix and flooding your womb and walls with thick cum; it was everything you needed. Your vision went white as your orgasm made your thighs give out, body going limp entirely.

Vox knew very well what it meant as your entire body trembled, hips stuck against Alastor as the rest of you went boneless.

Alastor took a deep breath. It was oddly refreshing, a form of stress relief he hadn’t considered before. Long claws made barely there lines up and down your thighs.

Pressing his chest into your back, he carefully grabbed your body and rolled you onto your side again to face Vox, him still behind you.

Vox stood up, saw the tenting of his pants and sat back down, throwing one left over the other, “Well! That’s finally done with. You can get the fuck out as soon as your freak penis goes back to normal.”

Alastor laughed, your mind entirely having checked out in your blissful state. Your stupid and content smile spread wide as his body shook slightly behind you. He propped himself up on his elbow to look at Vox.

“You went through all the trouble of finding one of the few other deer demons in hell to replace me, yet didn’t bother to learn about her biology.” His grin morphed into a smirk so wide his black gums were showing, “Heats last several days, Voxy.”

༻Masterlist༺

Added July 15th Luci x GN!Angel reader - Yes (Continuation of Lucifer x GN!AngelReader (fic based on Griftwood by ghost))

Added July 14th A Very Hazbin Happy Birthday imagine (Alastor, Luci, Angel, Charlie, Vaggie, Husk, Vox, Valentino)

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies ,

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , , @fizzled-phoenix , @whateverlololo

, @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl

, @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain ,

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby ,

@dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 ,

@star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

,

[mintmatcha]

so part of the reason he doesn't remember her is because it was such a shitty time at home and he was shutting down he's not just a fuckboy he's a TRAUMATISED fuckboy

If you were smart, you would have cleaned the place of every trace of you, but instead, you're forced to watch him pad through your belongings. Sero, the Sero, dreamboat Sero, is walking his fingers across the shelves in your living room, inspecting the rowing of manga. Sometimes, he hums, like he recognizes something. Other times, he stops on the figurines and pretends to shake their tiny hands in a horribly charming manner.

There's been boys in your apartment before. Well, a boy.

This is different. Sero is different.

He keeps looking back at you with these eyes, these damn eyes that you just can't resist, gently lidded with a smile that feels like it's just for you-

Liking him is stupid. You know that. Boys like him date pretty girls, thin girls, normal girls, better girls-

You adjust your clothes, pulling at the hem until you hear a definite pop. It's the exact outfit you saw on a pretty girl on tiktok, bought with three weeks of allowance, but it feel wrong and cheap against your skin. Wool over a wolf's body, poorly trying to disguise you as something you aren't.

Sero is effortlessly cool. His clothes are loose in they way that still makes him look lean and put together and purposely mismatched. Even his socks are different colors, one white, one black-

"You have a fun place, Cram School." Sero gives you a big smile. He calls you affectionately, since he claims to miss you when you're there. "You really like magical girls, don't you?"

You fiddle with the hem of your shirt more, tugging at the loose threads.

"...Yeah."

He waits a bit to see if you've got more to say, then turns back to your things. He's always attentive with you, even when Kirishima's other friends aren't.

"You totally wanted to be a hero as a kid, didn't you?" His teasing is light and your chest feels the same. "Like this guy?"

Technically, the figure he picks up isn't a hero, but you don't point that out. His warmth is melting you and you swear every atom in your body is slowly buzzing faster and faster.

"No, my quirk isn't good. I could never be a hero. I just..." You trip over your words because you know it's pathetic to admit. You adjust your glasses as you speak, sliding them up and down nervously. "They're sweet, and, and friendly. D-don't you ever wish you could transform into someone else for a little bit?"

There's another pause and you're forced to look directly at him. Your glasses slide down on their own.

"That was so cringe," you whisper.

His shrugs with one shoulder, scuffing his socks against the carpet. "Yeah. I do. Sometimes."

Sero sniffs, then hooks a thumb towards the television. "Do you wanna watch one?"

"A-a show?" you scoff at yourself. "You don't have to do that."

"You're so mean to yourself, Cram School. " Sero laughs. "I want to."

-

He asks questions the first episode. Good ones too. He posts to a character and whispers that it must be your favorite, since he saw the posters of her. Heat from his breath tickles your neck and that helium feeling in your chest just gets tighter.

The third episode, he slings and arm around your shoulders. You had been frozen tall, knees together with hands tucked into your lap, but then he drew you in, right into his collarbone. His elbows are sharp, but you don't mind. Not at all.

You debate touching him back, but your hands stay locked on the hem of your shirt.

When the credits roll, he turns to look at you, face so close to the side of yours that you can feel his nose bump against the wire frame of your glasses.

"Hey."

He whispers it as his hand finds your thigh.

"I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"

He waits a minute, held by your indecisiveness. His skin is acne bitten under his bangs, the pad of fat under his eyes puffs when he smiles.

This isn't a cruel joke, is it? Or some dream you'll wake up from? This is real, painfully real, something that no one can take away from you-

"Okay?"

No one will ever believe that you have a boy in your apartment, one that wants to kiss you despite the glasses and everything else undesirable about you.

Sero whispers you name. Not Cram School, but your name.

You gather up the willpower to squeak out an: "Okay."

And then he does. Lips are dryer than you thought they'd be, but the gentle pull of skin against skin enough to steal your breath away. His own breath quivers with a sigh; he must be able to tell it's your first time, because he goes purposefully slow, moving his mouth slightly more and more open until you match his movements.

When his tongue slips into your mouth, it tastes like the peach tea he's left on your countertops.

For once, you don't want to be anyone else.

[mythicmanuscripts]

And here I thought Aegon makes his wive sit on the throne so he can sit on her lap :D

Okay so I know this ask was just meant to be a joke but it kinda send me on a spiral and now I have too many thoughts about all the different ways the characters would a share thrown with you/hold court with you. And since this anon caused this, I’m gonna use them to share my thoughts because if I have to deal with it then so do you lads.

AEGON:

So as I mentioned in the ask that sparked all of this, I think Aegon would enjoy sitting on the stairs below the thrown and letting you sit on the thrown. He especially loves it because he can look up at you. This tends to be what he chooses when he wants you to do the heavy lifting? If he’s is not feeling up to it or if he knows there’s a matter he doesn’t quite understand enough he’ll sit on the sit on the stairs and then defer to you when he gets stuck.

Also he’s absolutely a fan of sitting on your lap. This is the one he goes for when he’s feeling perfectly fine and just wants to be close to you. He’ll especially choose this when you’ve been away for a while? He’s extremely clingy if he has to go more than a few hours without you and so when you return he will be attached to your side for the next few days.

AEMOND:

Aemond is another who will absolutely refuse to let you sit on a smaller thrown or chair next to the thrown. He sees that as extremely disrespectful to you. You are his wife!!!

(Along the same line, he gets rid of the consort title. He will not allow you to just be for show and have no actual recognised power. You are equal, and he’s not afraid to cut someone down for calling you queen consort and not just queen)

I think Aemond’s absolute favourite might be you sitting on his lap? Doesn’t matter how heavy you are, he will not allow you to try and hover or keep your weight of him, absolutely not. He’ll literally just grab you by the waist and pull you back. He loves that position so so much, with you either perched on his knee or laying across his lap. He always keeps a hand around your waist and whenever he wants your opinion on someone he’ll rest his head on your shoulder or nuzzle his cheek against yours.

Because of him getting rid of the consort title, you will sometimes hold court without him? He’s beyond happy with this, because he trusts your judgement implicitly and honestly if he has to listen to commoners and lords asks things of him for hours every day he might just burn down the entire fucking kingdom.

Anyway, so quite down you’ll end up in a situation where you’re holding court and Aemond joins halfway through?? He’ll just causally walk through the doors and across the thrown room to where you sit. He doesn’t even allow the guards to announce his arrival. He doesn’t want all that attention, his wife is the one holding court not him.

He’ll walk across the room and up the stairs to the thrown, and then instead of asking you to stand up he’ll just sit on the arm of the thrown? He rests his arm over the back of the thrown and you wrap an arm around his waist to steady him. He just sits there, doesn’t make any comment unless you ask him directly. If someone tries to address him he just goes, "Speak to my queen, I'm not here to answer today"

JACE:

So I definitely think Jace's initial plan would be to get a second thrown of some kind built. Obviously it can't be a replica of the actual iron thrown, but he'd want you to have your own space.

While plans are beginning to be formed around getting a new thrown to put next to the iron throne, Jace obviously continues to rule and he refuses to have you stand in the corner or with the ladies of the court.

He calls you over and you stand next to the thrown. You end up standing at his side, and Jace finds that he really likes you standing over him? At some point you sit on the arm of the iron thrown and Jace immediately wraps his arm around your waist to ensure you stay balanced. That ends up being the way you most often sit, and Jace loves it.

I think Jace especially loves it because of how easily he can have a whispered conversation with you? He just tilts his head up and you look down and then you're close enough to speak very very softly. In fact sometimes Jace will even put his hand up in front of your faces to that the others in the court can't even see his lips move.

POLY!DAEMON AND RHAENYRA:

(This idea is absolutely perfect for this poly ship and I really want to write more about them so I'm gonna do that here)

Things are obviously even more complicated here with there being three of you. At first you don't even consider being anywhere near the iron thrown. Daemon and Rhaenyra are married, they are the actual rulers of the kingdom. Sure you warm their bed but you don't even consider that this position could give you some power. You're happy for it to be a secret, or at the very least for it to not be advertised.

Meanwhile, neither Daemon nor Rhaenyra consider the option that you won't have some sort of special place in the thrown room. So I think it would work like this: it takes YEARS for the relationship between the three of you to form, with Daemon and Rhaenyra spending many nights talking about you and sharing frustrations over how badly they wish they could just straight up ask to court or marry you, and by the time the relationship actually forms Rhaenyra has already been crowned queen. There's a few weeks of the three of you sleeping together and hiding the relationship. Eventually the three of you admit that you all want it to always be the three of you, and you officially join the relationship.

After this happens, they announce it to everyone and while of course people are sceptic, they know better than to talk bad about you when both of your partners have dragons.

The first time Rhaenyra holds court after you make it official, you enter the thrown room with Daemon, the two of you walking behind Rhaenyra. Daemon walks up the thrown with Rhaenyra and sitting down on his chair next to the thrown. Both him and Rhaenyra immediately look around to see where you have gone. Rhaenyra spots you first, and frowns when she sees you're standing with the ladies of the court.

"What are you doing there?" she asks, confused. Before you can respond, Daemon is already up and walking to you. He takes your hand and brings you up the stairs. You try to say it's not necessary, but neither of them will hear it.

At first you end up sitting on the chair Daemon usually used and while he sat perched on the arm of Rhaenyra's thrown. This works well, until someone asks something that Rhaenyra wants your thoughts on. When daemon realises this, he jumps up and tells you to swop places with him.

Eventually three of you reach a pretty good arrangement of you and Daemon sitting on the arms of the iron thrown and Rhaenyra sitting on the actual thrown. Occasionally one of you will sit on the stairs below Rhaenyra but mostly it's both of you on the arms.

It's worth noting that Rhaenyre is absolutely DELIGHTED with this arrangement and regularly pulls one of you down by your chin for a kiss.

[yawujin]

Hiiiiii if you don't mind can you pls write v3 boys x reader who can't read social cues for the life of them and need to be told directly to understand a situation.

For example: *one of the boys shows romantic interest*

Reader: "WOW so friendly"

The more I describe it the more it sounds like Marinette from miraculous ladybug

Pls&thx

i've never really written something like this so i hope you like how it turned out anon! ദ്ദി( ˶^ᗜ^˶ )

request | how the v3 boys would react to reader that isn't good with social cues

type | react , established relationship , non killing game , gender neutral reader

shuichi saihara ♡

he's trying his best to make it known that he likes you

kaito and maki have definitely noticed how he's grown so fond of you

although he had to tell kaito straight up that he liked you

well, he finally does it, confessing to you

"to be honest with you, (Y/N), i really like hanging around you..."

can he make it any more obvious?

no, seriously, can he?

you thank him and say you'd love to hang out more!

he instantly realizes he needs to be more clear

"no! i mean, i like you, alot... as in more than a friend..."

you encourage him to be more outspoken in the future

rantaro amami ♡

tries to confess to you in a lowkey way

but once he realizes you don't really get what he's saying

he ups the ante

he starts showing more affection towards you

and then finally he tries again

"you know i really like you, right (Y/N)?"

he explains that he wants to go on a date to show his likeness

ohhh he likes me in that way you think to yourself

K1B0/kiibo ♡

firstly, he does everything you want him to do because he thinks that's how easy it will be to get you to realize he likes you

but it's not

secondly, he tries to just straight up tell you but it's hard to express his emotions

finally, he uses himself to print out a note that has his messy handwriting all over it

who knew he could be so forward when writing?

it read "i love you, (Y/N)! i hope you accept my feelings"

and it definitely got the message across

korekiyo shinguji ♡

he's pretty nonchalant so it's difficult at first for him

he knows that gift giving is a pretty common way for someome to show their likeness towards someone

so he tries that (althought he might not be the best at giving gifts)

but when he does

you just think he's being friendly

kiyo, just like rantaro, will try showing more affection towards you

he touches your arms, plays with your hair etc

"everything about you is so wonderful..."

"i would like for you to share that wonder with me"

and that gets the message across

kaito momota ♡

he would realize that you probably took his outright profession of love to you and chalked it up to him just being a good friend

as per usual

he woke up in a cold sweat about this and decided that starting tomorrow he'll be extra kind towards you

over the course of a few days, he creates a nickname for you

you guys hang out together even more you two are alone more often than not now

he held on to both of your hands and squeezed them

"(Y/N), i'm not sure else how to say this but...will you go out with me sometime?"

gonta gokuhara ♡

gonta accomodates you and invites you everywhere

he just wants to show that he likes you!

he thought it was working for a while until

"you're such a good friend, gonta!"

he shakes his head 'no'

"gonta want him and (Y/N) to be more than friends..."

you understood but was taken aback

he shys away almost instantly

"only if that what (Y/N) want!"

ryoma hoshi ♡

he gets it completely

he isn't a stranger to being outspoken so he's fine with telling you how things are straight up

it just so happens that he likes you a lot

so in this case, he asks:

"would you want to go out with me?" "tell me what you want and you'll get it."

your transition into a platonic relationship to a romantic one was easy

ryoma is easy to get along with <3

kokichi ouma ♡

he has to quickly find solutions on how to tell you his feelings without being too sappy about it

he isn't too good at that

he also wants to do it before he runs out of patience with himself

he does what he does best and pulls a prank on you

when you ask him why he did it he just says:

"isn't it obvious? it's because i like you."

is he being fr? you can never tell

but the confusion you had finally gets cleared up when you get outside confirmation from miu that he is falling hard for you

[thelostmagicians]

Love Comes In Threes | Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve Harrington loves you, he just can't say it. [2k]

Fluff, comfort, slight angst, emotionally/verbally constipated Steve

♡

The last time Steve Harrington said I love you to someone she ripped out his heart and left with the boy she told him not to worry about. 

He doesn’t remember the last time he said it to his parents, only that he stopped trying after he kept getting the dial tone in response to his feelings. 

So you weren’t exactly surprised or upset when he kissed you instead of saying it back 6 months into your relationship. 

_

The first time you said I love you to Steve it was a stormy evening. The both of you agreed to take things slow, wounds from the past still open and healing. But he just looked so handsome that night with his hair tousled in a perfect mess, red creeping on his cheeks from the cold air as the both of you raced towards his car trying to protect yourselves from the rain. He turned the heat on as he took your hands in his in an effort to warm you up. You tried to hold it in, you swear you did, but the love you had for him weighed down on you like an anchor and you thought if you didn’t tell him that second you were going to drown in your own feelings. 

“I love you,” you had whispered as he continued rubbing his fingers over yours. He paused his actions, shyly looking up. The red on his cheeks could no longer be blamed on the cold because now he was feeling as the sun was glowing warm in his heart. 

“You sure?” he asked you. Instead of answering you kissed him, hoping your lips would act as a spout and pour how you felt directly into him.   

You knew that like you, Steve had been hurt in the past so when he pulled you in for another kiss instead of saying it back you never questioned him. 

_

But that was a year ago. 

Almost two years into the relationship and Steve still hasn’t said I love you back. Every time he hears it fall from your lips, he’ll just give your hand a squeeze and carry on. You want to think it isn’t a big deal. You try to convince yourself that the L word isn’t necessary in your relationship, not when you share a home, a bed, secrets, and, hopefully, a family in the future. But no matter how hard you try to ignore your feelings it still leaves you disappointed when you see couples everywhere throw the three words around like they’re playing catch. It’s an endless cycle of disappointment for not hearing it, guilt for questioning the love Steve has for you, and frustration for why it mattered so much.

“As someone who Steve previously loved, do you think he actually loves me or is he just… settling?”

Your question makes Nancy freeze, the book she was previously trying to shove back in the shelf falls with a loud thud. She throws an apologetic smile at the librarian who shakes her head in disapproval. 

“What are you even talking about?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I brought it up. But I was just thinking, Steve loved you Nance. He told you he loved you. It’s been years and people still remember how broken he was after you left. Like if I left would he be just as sad or would he be okay.”

“Are you planning on leaving Steve?” Nancy stutters out.

“Well no…definitely no. It just makes me wonder if people can see that Steve loves me or if they think of me as the passerby keeping him from you while you were the one that got away. Whenever I tell someone I’m dating Steve all I ever hear is good on him for moving on, poor thing was a wreck after Nancy Wheeler left.”

Nancy picks up her stack of books as she leads you to the front desk, “Look what Steve and I had was over before we both even realized it was over. He loves you, I think… I think he loves you more than he could’ve ever loved me. And why do you even care what people think? These are the same people who think Robin is a sinner and that my parents are happily married.”

You roll your eyes in affection as you help her with her books. “I guess you’re right…” you trail off as your eye catches a magazine. In big bold letters you read 100 Different Signs Your Man Loves You.

“Oh please you can’t be serious.”

You give her a sheepish smile as you check out your rental and head back home. 

_ 

The magazine was utter trash. It had nothing, but surface value declarations that did nothing to soothe your worries. You stopped reading after sign 8 when it said Ladies if your man compliments your cooking, then it means he’s thinking about locking it down! Because remember a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach!

Your Steve wasn’t like this. Your Steve was the kind of guy who knew you were having a bad day before you even had the chance to tell him. Your Steve was the kind of guy who would willingly wake up early and go out into snow just to heat up your car so you won’t have to drive in the cold. 

You sigh as you toss the magazine in the back of the car making a mental note to drop it off at the library on your way to pick up Robin for your girls day.

You honk twice in front of Vickie’s house before Robin comes bolting down the driveway, shoes in hand and trying to wrestle her jacket on. She gives you a wave before climbing in and greeting you with a tight hug. 

“I see your sleepover went well,” you tease. 

Before she can tease back Vickie knocks on the window prompting Robin to roll it down. 

“Hi, Vickie” you smirk up at her, eyes darting to the purple bruise under her ear that she poorly tried to conceal with makeup. 

She waves shyly, “Robin… I forgot to say,” she looks at you nervously, “Nevermind, just I’ll see you tomorrow.” She quickly kisses Robin’s cheek and scurries back inside. 

“So… what was that whole thing with Vickie about?” you try to ease in. 

Robin bumps her head on the window when you pull into a parking spot, “Oh Vickie? She’s still nervous about saying the L word publicly so that’s what she was doing.”

“At least she’s saying it privately,” you huff under your breath. 

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing, I was just asking how she says it in public if she isn’t comfortable?”

“You know the cheek kisses she gave, that was it.”

You quickly put the shirt you’re holding back on the rack before looking at Robin confused. “What do you mean, is that your guys’ secret language?”

Robin laughs, pulling up a skirt to herself. “No silly, haven’t you ever heard the saying love comes in threes. When you touch someone three consecutive times it’s the equivalent of I. Love. You. Hence three cheek kisses equal an I love you.”

“That’s so cute,” you squeal, squeezing her arm and testing it out for yourself. 

She squeezes back instantly, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it, considering Steve’s the one that introduced me to it.”

Your steps falter behind her. “Hang on, Steve? My Steve, told you that?”

“Yeah, he said his Nana used to do it when they were kids or something like that. Told me before I told Vickie I loved her. Do you think this skirt is cute or should I save my money for a Madonna tape?”

Robin keeps rambling as you stay in place, your thoughts spiraling. Her confession makes you think about every single time Steve’s ever touched you. Every morning before you part ways how he pecks your lips once, twice, and a little longer the third time. How he squeezes your waist three times when he walks past you to get his favorite mug. How he reaches for your thigh, hand, anything he can get ahold of just to get three squeezes in. How he taps your arm in his sleep, again always in threes. You would stay up trying to figure out what song his taps represent before eventually drifting off yourself.   

This whole time you were waiting for Steve to verbally express his love when he was doing it quietly in his own way, more often than you ever did. 

You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel a tear slowly drip down your neck. 

“Hey what’s wrong are you okay?” Robin asks frantically. She drops her bags, hands squeezing your arms and eyes darting around for any signs of danger. 

You nod through your tears, “I’m okay, can we just go. I have to get home, I know it’s crazy but…”

Robin nods, grabbing your arm and leading you to the exit. 

_ 

The car ride back home is quiet, Robin didn’t even whisper a goodbye when she left simply settling with a quick peck to your forehead and soft smile. 

Your thoughts feel overwhelming like everything is going a mile a minute when you think about Steve. You think about your first date, your second, and your third and so on. How Steve ended every night with three of something. 

Your body is on autopilot as you make your way through the front door. Keys tossed in the bowl, coat hung up, and shoes thrown off. 

“Hey baby, you alright? Robin called asking if you were okay.” A concerned Steve comes into your vision, he quickly wipes his hands on the kitchen towel before flinging it over his shoulder and kissing you. Once, twice, and thrice.

Your hard stare makes him nervous, he’s never seen you like this before. “Honey,” he whispers out.

You take a deep breath in, “You never said I love you to me, not after I said it first, not even when you asked me to move in.” You pause trying to compose yourself while Steve avoids your gaze. “This whole time I thought you didn’t love me like you should, that you loved me, but you weren’t in love with me.”

Steve lifts his head up, baffled, he goes to argue until you lift your hand up signaling him to wait. 

“Robin told me something about how love comes in threes, today. How three taps, or any kind of touch in rapid succession three times is the equivalent of an I love you,” he finally meets your gaze as you slowly walk over to him, tugging on his waist to hold him as close as possible. “You told me you loved me on our first date, you told me the night we had our first kiss, you told me on our anniversary. And you tell me everyday. I don’t think there’s an hour that goes by without you telling me.”

Steve pulls you into his chest before gently lifting your head and kissing you three times. You giggle at the not-so-secret-anymore gesture. “I’m trying. I really am trying hard to say it, but I do. I really do. I want you to know how important you are, but I’m also scared. So I guess this was my way of saying it, reminding myself that when I do eventually say the words… you won’t leave.” 

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry for not seeing your love. For not understanding that even though you love me quietly you love me the most. Your love is in the tiny but grand gestures that I take for granted, but would miss deeply if I didn’t have it. I don’t need the words anymore Steve, I just need you because you love me more than I ever thought was possible and that’s enough. You’re enough.”

He squeezes your shoulder three times before whispering the words you’ve always wanted to hear from him. 

They say love comes in threes and your love with Steve may be quiet, but it’s everywhere. 

[yoonmetogether]

Kim Namjoon Oneshot

pairing: book worm!Namjoon x librarian!fem!reader, feat. yoonjin genre: one-shot, strangers-to-lovers warnings: clumsy namjoon, mentions of accidentally hurting himself, tiny bit of angst, smut, exhibitionism (oops, i did it again), they fuck in a library, and a car, protected sex, mentions of oral (m. and f. receiving), utter filth wc: 2.8k minors dni

When you started working at your local public library, you never thought you would end up getting fucked in the corner of the archives room with a hand pressed over your mouth by the most beautiful, dorky, hot, and intellectual man you've ever met.

"Shh, Ms. Librarian, you’re too loud," his deep, lusty voice mutters from behind as he fucks up into you so meticulously that you can't help the pathetic sounds that escape the back of your throat. You live for the way his jeans hit your bare ass since he was too impatient and desperate to find a more private place to pull his cock out and plunge into you after only a couple of minutes of finger prep. That paired with the sound of the leather and metal dangling off of his waist is a sure-fire way of being heard. You lick his palm so he withdraws it and you can speak clearly.

"Tell that to your belt." He chuckles and uses his now free hand to yank off said noisemaker without falling off his rhythm. He folds it in half and rests it on your shoulder, the long loop bobbing next to your face and you tremble at the thought of him smacking you with it.

"Maybe if you bite down on it, it'll help keep you quiet. Or should I tie it around your hands so you don't knock down any books?"

"Says the clumsiest man on the planet."

Namjoon has been known to knock down his fair share of books, too busy pulling them off the shelves in excitement for finding his next read, just to pile them on the floor next to him, forget that it's there, and trip over it on his way to check out what he'd been looking for. The interaction that catapulted your relationship was when you walked by his table covered in books of various subjects and you caught his uncapped water bottle just as his hand bumped into it. You scolded him in a hushed tone, and he looked guilty at first but a gradual smile appeared on his face the more you gave him what for.

When you clocked out that night, you walked by him waiting outside for you on your way to your car. He apologized again for almost ruining the books, told you that you could scold him as much as you wanted to, and then offered to take you out to dinner. You found yourself getting fucked in your own backseat with his wrist twisted and giant hand pressed onto your mouth to cover your screams before you even got the chance to remember that you don’t fuck on the first date, definitely not prior to. But you were the one who kissed him first because you couldn’t resist his dimpled smile, stupid deep voice, and subtle but sexy ass wink. Not to mention your insane attraction you’ve had towards him ever since he first talked to you, asking for your help finding a certain book about Nietzche’s philosophy and almost dropping it on your foot after you handed it to him. Furthermore, you have a crazy thing for men who read, and the way he goes through intense, complex books about philosophy and gender studies and the occasional graphic novel tells you that he’s got a big huge brain and you want to spend your whole life figuring out all that goes on in there.

After messily but gloriously eating you out while staring directly into your soul, squatted down uncomfortably in the tight space between the front and back seats, he fucked you erratically, making you come with your hands hanging onto the door handle and top of the seat for dear life. When the windows were nice and steamed up, he kissed you and wiped sweat off your face with the hem of his shirt. Hovering on one knee over you with a hand pressed on the door above you because he’s too damn tall to stand straight without bumping his head on the roof (which he did a couple of times and only smiled when you laughed and brushed your fingers over the top of his scalp to make sure he didn’t grow any cartoonish lumps), he jerked himself until he spilled into the condom that you dug out of your glove compartment, tore it off and tied it up to dispose of in the makeshift trash bag you hang off of your gear shift. He sat next to you with a heavy plop, pulled your arm to tug you into his lap, and you both laughed when you bumped foreheads on your way to shove tongues into each other’s mouths. With a hand brushing your hair back and his lips kissing your temple, he finally asked you where you wanted to eat and after you decided on a place, you enquired which car you should take. You became so endeared when he blushed and ducked his head sheepishly as he informed you that he doesn’t have his license and his bike is locked up in front of the library. You kissed his cheek with a smile and told him that it’s nice he doesn’t drive, that you appreciate how he’s one of too few who doesn’t contribute to the growing hole in the ozone. He kissed you gratefully and rested his hand over yours on the gear shift when you drove to a hot pot restaurant. He told you he’s forbidden by his best friend and roommate Yoongi to set foot into any establishment that requires food to be grilled on the table. You’d been craving hot pot all week so you instructed that he would just have to keep his hands to himself and he did so with a pleased grin on his face while you cooked the meat and waved him away when he tried to reach across the heat for a side of bean sprouts. He stared at you with soft eyes as you took over, happily placing meat, rice and banchan in his bowl.

Later, you ended up meeting his roommate who looked on in horror when Namjoon handed him a bag of takeout he brought back home for him and Yoongi rushed over to inspect his hands for any burns. You held up your own in mock surrender when he glared at you and recounted the trauma he experienced when one time Namjoon put his bare fucking fingers right on the hot bars of the grill and had to be rushed to the hospital. Yoongi had to change his bandages for two weeks, grumbled like he was annoyed each time, but he was always the one to do it, even when his boyfriend Seokjin came over and offered as he became one to bring them groceries since the two goofs would rather order-in then go to the market, even though that was hardly in their budget. But Namjoon’s just too busy reading and writing and grading papers for the philosophy class he TA’s for at the esteemed university uptown. Yoongi, meanwhile, is far too preoccupied with composing soundtrack music for some Indie films, hoping to one day get on Hans Zimmer’s level.

You think he could, having gotten the opportunity to listen to some of it when you started coming over to their place after work almost every day since that first “date.” You hardly ever go home anymore, since all of Namjoon’s plants are in his living room and he can’t trust Yoongi alone with them. It took only three weeks of hanging out and cooking for them and Namjoon reading to you and fucking you in his room after he made sure that Yoongi had his noise-cancelling headphones on, for him to finally make things official.

Were things moving too fast? Yes. Did you end up falling for the man who was soft and articulate in the streets, but rough and ineloquent in the sheets harder than you’ve ever fallen for someone before? Double yes. But for once you aren’t scared by how easy Namjoon wedged his clumsy way into your life and became your favorite part of waking up every day, especially when it’s to his bare chest and bicep beneath you, even if he woke you up several times in the night with his snoring.

Sure, you’ve gotten into your fair share of fights with Namjoon when he’s forgotten dates purely because he was too entrenched in a book or overslept after pulling an all-nighter grading students’ theses and creating last minute lecture slides for the professor. And you’ve been at fault too when you get too busy with organizing events at the library and studying for your library science exams that you’d go a couple days without texting or calling him. He’d show up on your breaks with the biggest, cutest pout and do some scolding of his own, one time going so far as to guilt trip you wondering if the bonsai tree he gave you for your birthday was feeling neglected. That conversation ended with you asking if he wanted to just move in with all his plants so he could look after them all at once. And a week later, he did.

Yoongi was a bit too happy to help since once Namjoon moved out, Seokjin could move in, and not to mention the fact that he wouldn’t have to worry about him 24/7 anymore. He would still worry, of course, because his best friend is that much of a clutz, but he trusts you enough to make sure he doesn’t accidentally kill himself. When all of the boxes and plants were cast in unorganized, Namjoon fashion around your apartment, Yoongi shook your hand, wished you good luck with a lazy salute and scurried out, immediately calling up his boyfriend. You spent all night helping Namjoon unpack but only a few boxes of his things got put away when he wrapped his arms around you and whispered in your ear promises that he would make love to you all the time now that you lived together. He proved it then by taking you on your couch, now his, and fucked you until your throat was raw from screaming his name and being stuffed with his fat cock, crying until you were practically dehydrated.

It’s been almost two years now, but the spark is still there and you don’t think it’ll ever go out. And both of you put all the effort to keep it that way, finding new things to do, other libraries and museums to explore, nature walks and bike paths to take. Namjoon’s specialty is going out of his way to get his fill of you whenever you want it, getting more risky each and every time. And that’s how he came to fuck you at your job, in the middle of a goddamn work day, but in the archives where hardly anyone comes through.

“What do I have to do to get you to be quiet? You’re gonna get fired.” “This was your idea!”

“Yeah, but you were a little too excited when I brought it up, weren’t you?” He reaches around under your skirt to play with your clit and mouths behind your ear. You nod and visibly tremble.

“Why’s that? You’ve thought about it? About me coming in here and fucking the shit out of you in the place where it’s against the rules to make noise?”

“So what if I have?”

“Well, you still need to shut up.”

You sharply huff and dig your fingernails into the edge of the shelf when he holds onto your hips and begins ramming into you, slow and steady, bringing you close to your peak and you have to pull your lips in and squeeze your eyes shut to keep yourself quiet.

But they go wide with the rapid beating of your heart when the door on the opposite side of the room opens and you both freeze at the sound of footsteps.

“Shit,” you whisper in unison, and Namjoon steps forward to press his body entirely against yours, matching your stance to hide your legs.

Squished against the books, you watch him yank a random one off the shelf, glancing over his shoulder when the footsteps grow louder and you stifle a laugh when he opens it upside down and pretends to read, still buried deep inside you.

“That looks natural.”

“Shh.” 

You wait with bated breath as the footsteps come and go, thankfully not in your direction, and he sighs through his nostrils, fanning over the top of your head.

“It doesn’t go there,” you tell him when he shoves the book back in the wrong place.

“Fix it later,” he grumbles, momentarily pulling out of you so he can twirl you around by your shoulders, licks his bottom lip before leaning in to kiss your breath away. You hum over his tongue.

“Whoever that was might’ve thought you were fucking the books if they saw you,” you jokingly point out, tapering off into a moan when he thrusts back into you, picking up where he left off.

He peers down at you and shrugs. “Better than you getting fired.”

You raise your eyebrows at that. “Would you? Fuck books?” He coughs down a laugh.

“What do you take me for? I don’t love reading that much. How would someone even do that?”

“Dunno. Guys have figured out how to fuck weirder things.” “That is true. But I’d prefer to fuck you holding a book and reading to me or something. Not right now, though. C’mon, we better hurry up before someone else comes in.”

You laugh at the image of Namjoon fucking the life out of you while you try to read aloud one of his complex, big brain books. Maybe you’d try to quiz him after, see if he could use that big brain of his to focus on everything at once. But that’s another story for another day.

You slide your hands around his waist and down to squeeze at his clothed ass and he bucks into you with a grunt, ducking his head to lick over your neck and you remind him he can’t make bruises. He lifts your legs to wrap them around his waist, ruts up into you with haste and fervor, grinning the beautiful dimpled grin when you come with silent, shuddered cries covered once more by his soft palm. His hand’s so damn big it could hide the entire lower part of your face.

“There you go,” he whispers as he drives you through your orgasm. “Nice and quiet, Ms. Librarian.”

You almost come again from his sultry voice alone. But soon after, he yanks out of you and helps you down on your knees so he can shove into your mouth instead. When his rhythm falters and he starts gasping in short little breaths, you lift up your hand and he smiles, immediately picking up on what you’re doing. He bends down and grabs your wrist to push it against his mouth, stilling his hips so you can work him to completion with stealthy bobs of your head. In your palm, you can feel the vibrations of his low, dark growls as he releases into your mouth, ropes of hot cum running down the back of your throat, making your eyes roll up in bliss. You swallow every last drop and he digs his teeth into your palm when your throat constricts around his sensitive head to do so. When your mouth threatens to drive him into overstimulation, he pulls out, lets you catch your breath while he crams himself back in his underwear and jeans, and helps you back up with a smile, catching you in a heated, swollen kiss.

“Well, that was good for me, was it good for you? Same time next week?” he asks after a few minutes of having his tongue down your throat. He holds out his hand for you to shake to which you dramatically roll your eyes and push away, grabbing onto his bicep to force him to turn around.

“Get out of here, doofus.”

He starts walking away with a laugh, and you shush him, planting your hands on his wide, beefy shoulders and giving them a soft push. You ultimately become a hypocrite and once again break the cardinal rule with a loud cackle when he trips on his own two feet and falls forward, catching himself on his hands. He straightens with a harsh glare and you just grin, latching onto his elbow and when you reach the end of the shelves, you take a look around to make sure no one’s coming and skip off with your boyfriend in tow.

You forget to put the book back in its rightful place.

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thank you for reading!! hope you enjoyed. i cranked this out in a sleep-deprived burst of inspiration at 2am so my apologies if it's not as polished as it could be. huge thanks to my beta reader @yoonglesyeobo!!

xxx - claret

i'm working on a masterlist, but until then, here's the links to my two other works, both yoongi centric

Series: not in the cards Oneshot: hook, line, & stinker