#well you see the ruffles are the part i like the least and that's the truth of it but check this out: the rest of the design is so solid

[medicinemane]

You know... well first off all this is a complex topic and this is me throwing stuff at the wall with my thoughts in the middle of the night, so I hope any place I don't phrase things the best or fully think things out, you can get that that's why

That said, I'm thinking about any kind of fuck nazis media from Indiana Jones to Wolfenstien to whatever, and I'm thinking about how popular they are (which is good) but... the thought goes something along the lines of I think part of that is it's very easy to say fuck you to horrible people from going towards 100 years ago, in part because you don't have to analyze anything about yourself or your own beliefs

Most people find it easy to say fuck nazis (good) particularly when it's historical nazis

I suppose my point here is I wonder how much this ends up being kind of thought terminating for people where they feel like "well I said fuck nazis, so clearly I couldn't share anything in common with them"

It's a complex topic, it's a touchy topic, and frankly I don't think I have the bona fides to lead the discussion... at best to point in a direction and say it's worth thinking one

Most people don't think of themselves as someone that would be a nazi, clearly they'd be part of the resistance, they'd never let it get that bad cause they're a good person... but like... do you really think that the majority of flesh and blood day to day people in nazi Germany were sitting there thinking about how much they'd love to commit genocide?

Complacency, ideas like "I care about people... but these acceptable targets are different because...", being tuned out and saying "well surely they'd never actually do something that bad"; I just feel like if you can't look at yourself and see that the right arguments given the right way stand a chance of causing you to be willing to allow bad things, well I think you're not being honest with yourself or not doing very much introspection

It's not secret why this is on my mind right now. The left says "I couldn't be a nazi because they were right wing and I'm not", and the right says "I couldn't be a nazi because I only want what's best for people, I don't really want to see anyone hurt", and magically everything's absolved from everyone and isn't it great that no one would ever behave like a nazi

Never mind the rising antisemitism in all directions, never mind people on all sides dismissing horrible behavior so long as it comes from people similarly aligned to them; you hate historical nazis so what more could anyone ask from you?

I'm reminded of a story from a Rwandan preacher (and I wish I knew his name, by the time I tried to find my source, I couldn't track it down... cause tumblr has a great search function) where he talked about hiding people during the genocide

Specifically he talked about how the people who forced their way into the church and grabbed him and the people sheltering there... these people getting ready to kill were people he'd know for years, members of his congregation, good people... ready to murder, to kill the cockroaches because he just didn't see, this is something that had to be done

(The reason he survived was he more or less said "well at least I know where I'm going when you kill me, can you say the same for yourselves?" and people hesitated enough to say more or less "you freaks aren't worth our time, get out of here before we change out minds")

I don't know... you look at yourself, and can you honestly say there's zero chance you'd ever be the ones breaking in, pulling people out to murder them because someone somewhere had whipped you up into a fervor in the right ways?

Obviously not, you'll introspect, and you'll come back here and say obviously not. Maybe it'll be true... maybe you've already got a list in your head of people who aren't human where it wouldn't count. How should I know? I'm not the judge of true morals, I can't see your inner secrets

Regardless, no, you obviously wouldn't fall to that. You have your reasons why you know for a fact that you wouldn't. Besides, you hate historical nazis, so how could you be anything like them

(To be clear, I'm not asking anyone to tear themselves to pieces looking for secret shame, last thing I need is people with anxiety worrying they're secretly a horrible person)

(I'm more just asking something pretty impossible, which is for people to take a real honest look and acknowledge that like... yeah... maybe my hatred of trans people for whatever reason I give why it's fine is getting pretty fucked up... maybe in my valid criticisms of Israel I'm starting to slide into actual full on antisemitism... maybe I've gotten so caught up in some dogma that I'm starting to excuse some pretty awful shit so long as it comes from people I agree with)

(It's bad times, and I see a lot of people, even people I like, turning a blind eye to a lot of awful stuff because "well no, it's not meant like that" or similar and... man, no one is going to fucking listen, it's called a blindspot for a reason and people really really hate being wrong but man... what I wouldn't give to just be able to open a few people's eyes to where their actions are leading them)

[chuluoyi]

LOVER'S QUARREL

- fushiguro megumi x reader

“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.

genre/warnings: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)

note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.

And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.

But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.

You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.

You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.

So how dare he spout this now?

“I can't do this anymore.”

"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"

"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."

This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.

You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"

"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."

Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.

Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.

"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"

Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"

"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"

In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.

And yet...

"...I'm sorry."

Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.

And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."

As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.

Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."

You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.

Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.

Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.

"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.

"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."

"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"

"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."

"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."

. . .

"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.

Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”

Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”

“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”

He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.

Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…

How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?

Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.

With Hakari.

“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.

An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.

Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.

“Megumi?”

Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?

“Megumi!”

“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”

He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."

But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.

"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"

"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.

From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.

...huh?

Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?

What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.

Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—

Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.

How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.

How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.

But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.

“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?

Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?

They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.

What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?

You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!

You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...

"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.

You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."

This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?

Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.

"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.

Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."

You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.

Stay close, he said... So he is worried...

And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.

You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"

"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

"You two seem close."

Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?

Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"

In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.

You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?

"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.

Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.

But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"

Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.

For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.

Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.

And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"

"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"

He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.

You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"

"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.

"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.

"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"

Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—

At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.

He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—

Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.

You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.

Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.

And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.

"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"

You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.

It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.

"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."

Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.

"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.

"Don't leave me."

It was like a distant, hazy memory.

Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.

The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.

You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.

Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.

Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.

Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...

You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.

"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."

When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.

"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."

You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.

“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.

He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.

"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.

However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."

...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?

"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."

"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"

"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"

“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”

Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.

"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"

You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.

You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"

"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.

He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."

And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."

Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."

And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.

“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”

A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.

But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."

And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.

"Maybe I am, yeah."

"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."

"Yeah..."

But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.

On one sunny day...

"Hey, are you alone?"

Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.

"No. Can I help you?"

The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"

The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—

Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.

"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."

Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.

"Megumi!"

Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—

He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.

"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"

[banj0possum]

My Lovely Melody

Yandere!Rockstar x GN!Reader

CW: yandere is a playboy before he meets reader, suggestive (creepy) thoughts, minor obsessive behaviour

��� Axel's been in many relationships with both men and women alike, but all of his little flings felt nothing more than that, just flings.

🎸 And he was content with it, I mean being a famous rockstar meant lots of people wanting a chance with you and he indulged in that fact.

🎸 He could sleep with whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and he wouldn't have to deal with the commitment that comes with dating or any of that messy stuff.

🎸 So why the hell can't stop thinking about you ?!?!?!!

🎸 He scratched his head trying to make sense of it, his messy hair getting even more ruffled as he tries to get the image of your smile out of his head.

🎸 You were in a miscellaneous store full of alt clothing, trinkets and various other stuff when he walked in with his bandmates.

🎸 It was fairly normal when he came in the store. It was dim with some random punk song playing faintly in the background. His friends started exploring, looking at the graphic t-shirts and mugs shaped like skulls and the like.

🎸 He got a bit bored and wandered to the other side of the store. It had posters, candles and..who's that?

🎸 There you were, staring longingly at a plush toy sitting on one of the shelves, just standing there.

🎸 He didn't think much of it, probably just some person baked out of their mind. "Hey buddy, you doin' good?"

🎸 You snap out of your gaze and look at the big hulking man in front of you. You stutter out an apology and explain your little misfortune.

🎸 "So you want this..toy...but you can't afford it..?" He raises a brow at you as you nod, making him chuckle.

🎸 He thought for a moment, looking at the stuffed creature, well it wouldn't hurt to buy it for you, he's pretty well off from all the gigs and concerts he's been in so...

🎸 "How 'bout I buy this thing for ya then? But you owe me~" He winks, thinking he could score some quick sex for being such a 'gentleman'

🎸 But no, instead of a blush or a knowing smirk, you just looked at him with the widest, most innocent eyes he's ever seen, you were practically shaking with joy as he said it.

🎸 You thanked him profusely before listing off things you could do in return, treating him to some food, buying something for him in return, plain paying him back..he was a bit surprised.

🎸 "O-oh...uhm that was a joke heheh, y-you don't have to do all that babe..." He blushes.

🎸 The two of you head to the cashier, his friends spying from behind the aisles as his gaze is locked on the little ball of cuteness beside him.

🎸 Seriously? Did you even know who he was? This has never happened before...most of the time, he would pay for someone's drink or something and they'd be on his dick in seconds, but you, you were so..different...it felt nice..

🎸 You didn't even get it in a bag, you immediately took the plush after it was paid and hugged it close.

🎸 so cute so cute so cute so cute so cute!!!

🎸 "Hey uh..so me and my buds are in a band and uhm..wanna maybe..watch our next gig?" He asks nervously, he's never been so shy towards anyone!!

🎸 You agree, thinking it's the least you could do for what he did for you.

🎸 You take out your phone, Axel can't help but grin at the case, it was cute, like you~..

🎸 "Here's my number if..you need it.." You smile at him, that smile..that damn cute smile...you had his heart wrapped around your finger at this point.

🎸 "Th-thanks sugar..I'll see you there.." He smiles back as you part ways, he heads back to his friends who were bombarding him with questions as he watches you skip out of the store with your new little soft friend.

🎸 That night, he was getting ready for the show when he got a message notification and sees that you sent a picture of the show from one of the seats with some text "Good luck out there!"

🎸 His face was on fire as he realized you were there, he peeks out in the crowd and there you were, your little plush toy in tow.

🎸 You look so out of place from the people in spiky jewelry and dark outfits, you were just in a hoodie and baggy pants, albeit the hoodie had a MCR design on it, but you can tell it was very soft compared to the rest of the audience.

🎸 Finally it was time for the show to begin and it was the most passionate he's been in a while, it seemed as if the words he was singing were dedicated to you and you alone.

🎸 The little glances at you made you giddy, like a friend seeing their bestie perform, you were cheering excitedly for him, not in a fangirly way, but one of genuine support and amazement.

🎸 After the performance, Axel tried finding you, but the crowd was too big and he assumed you must have left already.

🎸 Wait..why is he being so buddy buddy with you? You just met today! It's not like you two were best friends or anything!

🎸 He tried dismissing the thought of you, tried distracting himself by flirting with other people, but he could only think about you, and making you smile like that again..

🎸 no no no! get out of my head!

🎸 Maybe a little fling can ease his mind?

🎸 Even on his bed with some random girl after show, he can still think of you.

🎸 Would your skin be as soft? or maybe softer? How would your hair smell? He bets your moans would sound delicious..

🎸 shit FUCK!!

🎸 Even after his one night stand, he kept thinking of you

🎸 He stares at your messages, you sent a lot of pictures of your plush toy doing goofy things to him, so cute..so silly...he can't help but smile.

🎸 He decides to look you up on social media and..

🎸 Wait a minute...you make music too?

yep this was a bit short but idk man i love making you guys suffer <3 stay tuned for part 2 (i am actually out of ideas guys please request me please please ple-)

[alexiroflife]

"first day"

fluff, happy fushiguro family, slice of life, megs' first day of school send-off

Synopsis: you've been dating toji for a while now and megumi subconsciously calls you mom for the first time on his way out the door

to sum it up: you adore the little family you've come to be a part of

WC: 1,701

Warning(s): none

"Megs!" you call out, standing by the front door awaiting the dark-haired boy's arrival. He soon shuffles around the corner from his room, throwing a bag over his shoulder with a tired expression on his face.

His father turns to watch him walk in, crossing his arms as he leans against the counter. "The hell were you doing in there that took you so long?"

"Nothing," Megumi grumbles, moving to brush past the two of you to rush to the door. "I just wanted to look presentable, that's all."

"So you took thirty minutes to get ready?" Toji quirks a brow.

"Believe it or not, dad, some would say that's not enough time to get ready in the morning."

"Not at all, actually," you agree.

Toji tugs the corner of his mouth in judgment. " Well, you should know," he says to you. "You spend at least ten years in the bathroom when we have somewhere to go."

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "That's such an overreaction. I never take any longer than an hour." Megumi and his father exchange knowing looks and you place your hand on your hip. "What?"

"Don't worry baby," Toji assures you. "It's okay to be in denial."

"We've timed it before. The last time we all went out to dinner as a family, you took two and a half hours to get dressed," Megumi adds.

"That's only because I had to shower and pick out an outfit then do my hair and makeup," you defend.

"Isn't that a little overkill? It takes me half that time to shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and get some homework done."

"Whatever. Your sister would understand," you sigh.

"Unfortunately, she may be worse than you."

"Women," Toji tsks. You slap his bicep and he pretends to flinch, smirking down at you playfully. "Ouch."

"Alright, well, I'm ready now. I don't wanna be late," the sixteen year old says, turning back to reach for the door handle.

"Ah ah ah, wait!" you stop him. "You're not going anywhere without me getting a good look at you. Turn around, I wanna see how the uniform fits."

Megumi lowers his head and complies, turning back around stiffly for you to admire him. You press your hand to your lips to conceal your smile, eyes gleaming with pride as you look over the sharp navy jacket and pants he adorns.

"Awwww," you coo. "It fits perfectly! How does it feel?"

"Pretty good," Megumi nods, moving his arm around slightly to show his mobility in the fabric. "It's comfortable too. It shouldn't be a problem during missions."

"I still can't believe how quickly time has gone by," you muse. "You're already going into your first year at Jujutsu High! Are you excited?"

"You better be," Toji grunts. "Your uncle Gojo hasn't gotten off my ass about your enrollment for years. At least now, he'll finally shut up."

"I still don't understand why I have to have him as a teacher. He's such a moron, I doubt he'll teach us anything useful," Megumi mumbles.

"Moron or not, he's the strongest sorcerer of the modern age and he's helped out so much. I'm sure he'll be able to give you a good experience," you say positively.

"We talkin' about the same Gojo here? The one who trashed my house playing tag with Megumi and the dogs in the living room?" Toji points out and his son grits his teeth at the memory.

"Oh come on, Satoru was like twenty one back then. I can only imagine the crazy shit you've with the kids when you were raising them," you tease.

"You don't even want to know," Megumi exhales.

"Please, you came out just fine, didn’t ya?” Toji says, reaching out his hand to ruffle at Megumi's spiky hair. The teen recoils, craning his head away and shielding himself with his arm.

"Quit it. I'm not five anymore."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're all grown up now, I know. Gonna be a first-grade sorcerer before I can even blink an eye."

"Who said that I would be first grade? I'm only a first year."

"Yeah, and look at who your pops is," Toji grins. "Plus, you got an advantage that I never had. You'll do just fine."

Megumi hums indifferently, doubting himself momentarily but accepting the words nonetheless. "Alright, are we ready?"

"No, not yet!" you pull out your phone quickly and open the camera. "I need to get pictures."

The blue-eyed boy slumps. "(Y/n), I gotta go."

"I know, I know, just a few," you promise, holding your camera up to capture his awkward figure in the frame. "Okay, smile."

Megumi doesn't, and of course you don't actually expect him to. Instead, he calmly stares at the camera with his arms at his sides, unsure of what to do with themselves. Toji moves to stand behind you, leaning down to take a peak at the million pictures you're snapping.

"Toji, go stand with him so I can get one with the both of you."

The two groan simultaneously. "Doll, can we just focus on gettin' the kid to school?"

"It's fine. His stuff is already moved into his dorm. We have time."

"But-"

"Shut up and go stand with your son, now," you glare firmly up at the green-eyed man and he huffs.

"Yes, ma'am."

Toji raises a hand to his hip and tilts his head boredly as he stands beside Megumi, the two of them sharing the exact same blank stare as they look into the camera. You squeal happily. "You two are so cuteee!"

"We done, now?"

"No, I wanna get one more with Megs, and then I'm good." The boys give you a look, but you wave them off. "I mean it! Gosh, here Toji. Take our picture."

Toji obliges, grabbing your phone from your hand as you rush over to the tall boy. His expression melts into serenity as you place your hands on his shoulders and lean your head against his arm, smiling widely at the camera as a hint of a smile touches Megumi's lips.

Toji's heart warms at the sight, watching the way his son grows comfortable in your presence. The picture of the two of you looks so natural t to him like you are meant to be a part of his family, which he knows you are.

He snaps the photo and nods. "Got it."

You exhale, turning to face Megumi. You brush your hands over his shoulders to straighten his jacket, ridding it of any lint and wrinkles. "Okay, Megumi, please remember to be safe."

"I know. I will," he nods.

"And don't be too reckless when it comes to training."

"I won't."

"And try to make friends. I know how easy it is for you to push others away."

"I'll try."

You press your lips together with a final sigh, looking over Megumi's face warmly. You wrap your arms safely around him into a hug, your emotions getting the best of you. You have spent the past year caring for Megumi like your own, and watching him head off to achieve his goals makes your heart swell with joy and fear all the same.

"Text me or your father or Tsumiki if you need anything. Anything at all," you tell him. He returns your hug gently.

"Okay," he chuckles lightly and you pull away. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

"...I know you will..." you pout. "Okay, I'll let you go. Good luck. I hope you have an amazing first day. I'll see you at the end of the week, yeah?"

"Mhm. I'll call you to let you know how the day went later."

"Please do."

Toji hands you back your phone and walks toward the door with Megumi. "Let's get a move on," he says. He leans over quickly to peck your lips farewell. "I'll be back in a few."

"Don't speed, Toji."

"Speeding gets you places quicker," he winks and you suck your teeth disapprovingly. Megumi opens the door, his dad gripping the frame.

"Bye, boys. Stay out of trouble," you wave, eyes glassy as you watch Megumi walk out.

"See ya, doll."

"Bye, mum."

The three of you freeze the second the words hit the air, everyone stilling in their tracks.

You feel your heart burst as overwhelming happiness consumes you. Megumi keeps his face forward, hiding his reddening cheeks as he processes what he has just said. Toji stares at the back of his son's head, eyes wide, before he turns to look at you to find your shocked, giddy face.

You don't have any time to reply when Megumi clears his throat suddenly, sweat dotting his forehead, and he walks rigidly out of the house and swiftly down the hall without looking back.

Toji stays behind, keeping an eye on you when you look up at him, stunned. "Did he just...?" you murmur.

"Yep."

Your eyes immediately well with tears and your lips wobble, your hands flying over your mouth. "He sees me as his mom?" you whisper.

Toji chuckles, ducking down to you with his hand still gripping the door. "Of course he does. He's always adored you. Him and Tsumiki."

"I'm gonna cry."

The assassin chuckles softly, pressing his thumb to the corner of your eye gently. "You're already cryin.'"

"Shut up," you sniff. "God, I love those kids so much. I just wanna give him all the hugs in the world."

"And you'll be able to. There isn't a better woman on this planet to be there for the kids," he kisses your cheek. "That's why I plan t'marry you someday."

"Fuck you, Toj. You're gonna make me cry even more."

"Sorry, baby. Can't help talkin' about it," he leans back to the doorway. "Let me get the kid squared away and make sure he's not dyin' of embarrassment, then I'll be back to talk to ya about makin' this official."

"You're being for real?"

"Of course I am."

You lower your hands and beam. "Tell Megumi I love him and get back here soon."

"I will," he hums. "But I thought you said no speeding?"

"Just- make sure the two of you at least get to the school in one peace."

He smirks. "Will do, doll."

[luvly-writer]

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me

Batfamily x Neglected! Reader

Author's note: So originally, this was supposed to be only ONE shot...but I suck at making those so it will be a TWO shot. I am writing the second one right now as well so it will be posted at the same time.

Warnings: Neglectful family, long chapter

Part 2 // Part 3

---

These walls suffocated you. They truly did.

At first, when your mother had announced that Damian, your twin brother, and you would be leaving your home to live with your father, you were kind of excited. As much as Nanda Parbat was a home to you, you were excited to see the world, and finally feel free. Being the "spare twin" certainly allowed you to have more freedom than Damian growing up. Both of you were trained exactly the same way, yet, whilst your grandfather prefer to hone your brother's skill in other areas, you had the flexibility of running around and doing as you went. But no bird is truly free if they still live in a cage. So...

You were excited and that excitement lasted precisely two weeks. Damian and you had been close all your life, being twins kind of facilitated that. You trained together, ate together, read together, you spent the majority of your life together. You had each other's back; he was your solace and companion, your best friend. No one else in the world would ever get you like him. That's part of the reason Talia sent both of you. Growing up, no one could ever separate the two of you, not even your grandfather....well, that was until a certain Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne entered your lives.

Unlike your twin, you had no interest in being part of the vigilante business. It was well known that both of you were different in your character. Where Damian was brash, you were softer; he was ruthless, you were diplomatic; he was violent and cunning, you were elegant and merciful. That distinction was what made your grandfather direct Damian to be the heir of the Demon head. You were glad that you were away from the League as it would help you create an identity that didn't directly come from them and that became a problem.

Sure, it was two that came to stay at Wayne Manor, but only one was integrated into the family. It was disappointing, to say the least. Bruce favored Damian and whenever you tried to call him out on it, he'd blame it on the fact that Damian needed more help. As if it wasn't the two of you that came from the same place. Sure, you were tame and gentle, but you were just as Damian. The League didn't train an assassin and a princess. No, they had honed two weapons. Dick followed Bruce in that same thought process and it got even worst once he had to fill in as Batman temporarily. As much as he clashed heads with Damian, Tim enjoyed going par to par with his new brother. Jason knew both of them back when he was resurrected. You loved him as if he were your brother as well and you thought that it was reciprocated...until you roamed the halls of the manor and realized he never joked around with you the same way he did with Damian. You wanted to blame it on the fact that they were boys and maybe that got them to get along better...but it wasn't just that was it...Cassandra loved to bond with Damian because they were both child assassins but so! were! You! Stephanie loved to ruffle his hair and call him Little Bat, and Barbara would sit and try to explain modern terminology with him and laugh when he found it absurd. It didn't make sense.

Both of you went through the same thing, yet you had to understand why he needed more help and attention and love than you. It devastated you. You had read online that it was good to find healthy outlets to let out your frustrations, so you decided to find extracurriculars. Maybe if you required attention, it would be given to you, right? I mean, Robin was Damian's extracurricular in a way, right?

You took up ice skating. You found beauty in the sport and given that you had training, you were excelling at it. Given that your father was a busy man, he was never one to take you to practice. He just paid for the coach, the team, the skates, the outfits, and all the fees necessary. Alfred, may he be blessed, was your solace and would often be found taking you to practices and would stay for support. You had great potential for someone of such a young age and your coaches would never fail to remind you. Your first competition came and you were through the roof with excitement. You would talk Damian's ear off, who always made time for you regardless of what was happening around the house. You would mention it in passing to anyone who would engage in even the smallest of conversations with you. You went as far as printing the competition flyers and sticking them on Bruce's desk, the Batcomputer, and the fridge. Surely, no one would forget.

Oh, you poor thing...no one came besides Alfred. Damian and Bruce had some sort of mission; Dick was in Bludhaven; Jason was too busy with the Outlaws, Tim had a Wayne Enterprise meeting, Barbara had made plans that day with Stephanie and Cass and they couldn't be changed. Had they not heard you? Did they not see the flyers? The only one had the decency to apologize was Damian, but he was your brother, your twin, of course, he didn't mean to miss it. You had won gold and your teammates had invited you to eat out. When you ran all the way to where your family was supposed to be, you only saw Alfred with a beautiful flower bouquet.

Having seen your disappointed face, he quickly made a mental note to scold everyone later tonight and tried to cheer you up.

"Marvelous, miss Y/n! Simply wonderful. I don't think I had ever been delighted by such a choreography before" He praised and you took it to heart, giving him a smile. That night he allowed you to stay later, having one of your teammate's mother bring you back from the restaurant.

This didn't change over time. Competitions and practices with Alfred only. After that first competition, Damian would try to at least go to your practices but that lessened as time passed and he was needed as Robin. Forgotten competitions turned to forgotten birthdays it seemed. After a year, when your birthday came around, you were ecstatic knowing that your favorite day of the year and you would celebrate it with your favorite person in the whole world. That day, your friend's parents had asked Alfred if they could surprise you in the morning with something special and then leave you in the Manor during the afternoon so that you would have time with your family. Seeing how loved you were outside of your family, Alfred agreed.

You were positive that your day was going to be perfect. Damian had woken you up and you both exchanged gifts first thing in the morning, just like you did in the League. He had gotten you a new pair of skates and you had gotten him a bunch of new art supplies. You ate breakfast with Damian and forced Alfred to sit with you both and eat as well. You went along with your day, having Alfred tell you that you had a special surprise. He had taken you to the park where your friends and their parents awaited you with a surprise picnic. Soon the afternoon neared and you were in the limo telling Alfred about the wonderful morning you were having. To into in your story, you failed to see his worried and pitiful gaze. As you went into the Manor, hands full of gifts from your friends and cheeks hurting from laughing and smiling so much, you were met with a sight that broke your heart.

Damian blowing the candles of a cake with your entire family surrounding him, clapping and singing. Your face, just like your heart, fell. You look up at Alfred and whisper, "Did you know?"

To which he responded in a soft voice, "No, my dear, I was helping your friends plan your party. The bake, I did do, but I thought we would wait for you..."

With eyes glazed with unshed tears, you nodded and it took seeing Damian's small smile as Dick bearhugged him to know...you weren't part of them.

You had begun to separate yourself from them and Damian had noticed. He had tried to apologize for your birthdays but you wouldn't listen. What kind of person would forget their twin? After some time, he stopped trying. The ridge between you had started to grow and if you were being stubborn, he wouldn't waste his time.

---

Weeks passed. Months passed. And little old Y/n had been forgotten. Dick was always too busy and only knew how to say "Not now, kid." Jason would wave to you on occasion. You weren't sure if Tim was even aware that you still lived there. Cass only spared you a glance. Stephanie looked pained if you ever tried to talk to her. Barbara was too awkward around you. Bruce had never really tried much with you and that was clear from the start. Damian felt distant each day more and more. Your only solace was ice skating, Alfred, and your mom. Weeks after your birthday, you had sneaked out and contacted your mother. She arrived as soon as she could. She would never deny her baby girl. I mean, the world always wanted Damian, but she, she was hers. There, Y/n told her everything as she broke down into tears. She had been the perfect daughter and sister, yet it would never matter cause they didn't care. Talia, clearly bothered by this, promised to talk with Bruce and Damian yet Y/n reassured her that Alfred had tried so many times and it had never worked. With the promise of finding a solution that didn't involve Bruce or Damian, her mother left.

After a few weeks, Y/n would notice that the watching eyes of her mother would be on her during practice and competitions. It was good to have one parent there. She wouldn't be able to attend most of the time, but she made an effort. Alfred caught her once when she was giving you flowers and Y/n begged for him to keep it a secret.

It was good to have something.

---

Years passed. Birthdays were spent having breakfast with Alfred, avoiding her twin, out with her friends, and occasionally, sneaking out to see her mother. Y/n wasn't heartless, though. Every year she would sneak a present that normally came from her and their mother into Damian's room. He was still her beloved twin after all. She had gotten used to competitions with little company. Even when she had won an award for being a prodigious skater, it was Alfred, the flowers he had bought her, and the ones her mother had sneaked into her house. She was fine, she claimed. Being ignored and forgotten didn't sting her heart as much as it did before, and she definitely didn't cry every time one of her siblings passed by her and acted as if they bumped into a piece of furniture. Hearing Damian refer to Cassandra as sister and only call her by her name didn't shatter her heart, no it only made her so unfocused in practice that she fell in the middle of her choreography. Coming back home after a day with her friends and seeing all of the decorations for Damian's birthday didn't slowly kill her on the inside anymore, no she just played music super loud when she took showers so no one would hear her sobs.

The breaking point? Duke Thomas.

She didn't have something against him directly, no. It was his arrival. Seeing her supposed family, her twin, welcome him with open arms broke her absolutely. Seeing them dine with him, joke around with him, smile with him, celebrate with him, and love him shattered her. It had been five years of this torment and she couldn't bear it anymore. So...she made a call.

"Mother....I think I want to go home.."

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

[clockwayswrites]

A Bird's Wings - Part 30

masterpost this is a first draft, please no editing or concrit <3

Danny’s first thought when he woke up in the morning was how rested he was.

It was almost shocking.

He’d been so exhausted for for the past few weeks that to feel rested was a relief that almost made him cry.

Danny’s second thought was about his wings, which he still seemed to have. That was a pretty quick revelation caused by the fact that he was asleep on his stomach. The wings pulled at the sheets as he stretched lazily. At least they hurt less than yesterday at least. He was careful as he sat up, a cumbersome affair with the wings. It basically resulted in Danny getting his legs off the side of the large bed and simply standing up backwards, but at least it did result in him standing.

Grateful for Alfred’s thoroughness, Danny brushed his teeth before taking an awkward shower. He kept to the shower wand only and tried to keep as much water off his wings as possible. Despite the care, he still felt (and looked) like a rain ruffled bird after he had dressed in the modified sweater and a pair of his normal pants. He did what he could to at least tame his hair, swallowed his morning medication, and left the sanctuary of his borrowed room.

“Master Danny, impeccable timing,” Alfred said when Danny came across him in what Danny thought was the foyer. “Breakfast will be served in half an hour in the kitchen. Would you like some coffee or tea to start your day?”

“Coffee would be great, if it’s not any trouble,” Danny said with a bashful smile. He still wasn’t quite sure how to handle Alfred’s uncanny ability to show up and offer his service.

“A standard request of coffee is hardly trouble,” Alfred said in such a way that Danny felt bad for trying to be polite.

He didn’t think that his Midwest manners were going to get him very far in this house. Manor.

Still trying to puzzle out how his life got him into things like this, Danny followed Alfred to the kitchen. Bruce was already there, looking still half a sleep as he sipped on his own mug of coffee. For the moment, the table was children free.

“Cream or sugar?” Alfred ask as he headed towards the counter.

“Cream please,” Danny said. He turned to Bruce and gave a little smile. “Morning, Bruce.”

“Good morning, Danny,” Bruce said, his voice a low, sleepy rumble. (Danny did his best to fight the blush that the tone caused.) “Would you like some help drying off your wings?”

So much for not blushing. “Ah, yeah. That would be really nice. I tried to do what I could, but…”

Bruce chuckled softly. “Completely understandable. It’s a very awkward angle to try and manage.” He set down his mug and stood. “Fortunately for you, Damian is quite the animal buff and I was sent some very extensive articles on caring for wings.”

“Oh gods,” Danny said. The words were muffled by the way he buried his burning face into his hands.

“Damian simply wants the best for you,” Bruce pointed out.

“Sure, but still,” Danny said. He rubbed at his face as he let himself lean his head back and stare up at the ceiling for a moment, “I’m not a pet.”

Danny saw Bruce come over out the corner of his eye, towel in hand, and rolled his head a little to glance at him. He thought it was progress that he didn’t flinch when Bruce reached out, clearly telegraphing his motion, to run a hand over Danny’s wing.

“No one thinks that you’re a pet, Danny,” Bruce said with so much sincerity in his eyes that Danny had to look away. “Knowing how to take care of your wings is the same as making sure that Damian has easy access to vegetarian meals or that the computers at the manor have a dyslexic friendly font installed for Dick or that Barbara can easily get around in her wheelchair. Your wings, even if only sometimes, are part of you. And for better or worse, my family and I seem rather intent to see you well.”

Danny rubbed at the back of his neck as he glanced back at Bruce. “Part of it may be that I’m not exactly used to that sort of attention. I mean, Lucius tries to make me take care of myself, as well as some coworkers, but in Gotham that sort of feels more like new rogue prevention,” Danny joked.

Luckily Bruce chuckled at that. “I am sorry that we’re so overwhelming.”

“No, don’t be. It’s… excuse the bird analogy, but it’s just a very full nest, isn’t it? It feels cozy. It’s just something different to try and wrap my head around,” Danny explained. “And I won’t pretend that I don’t still have issues, as much as it’s something that I’ve worked really hard on personally and in therapy, dying at fourteen leaves a person with some issues.”

Not to mention being a super hero, staying half dead, dying a second time, and all of the other things that went on during his high school years.

“Yes, I would imagine so,” Bruce said after a pause. His voice was soft and sad.

“Bruce—”

“Sorry,” Bruce said. “When Jason was fifteen, we thought he had died. He ended up out of reach and with extensive brain trauma and memory loss. I know how much it effected him. I’m sorry you had to go through something at that age also.”

Danny squeezed one of Bruce’s hands where it was clasped tightly around a towel. “He’s here now. He’s alive and he seems happy. He has a boyfriend and everything. I’m not saying it doesn’t still pull at him, but it hasn’t dragged him to the bottom. At least not anymore.”

Bruce smile was a somber, soft thing. “Thank you. And you’re here too.”

Danny blinked at that. Bruce wasn’t wrong. He didn’t know almost any of the story, but he wasn’t wrong. Wings and all, Danny was still alive. He smiled softly back. “Yeah, I am.”

[alicentofhightower]

the cost of a dragon

pairing: addam velaryon x wife!reader

synopsis: addam is covered in cuts and scrapes from falling and running in the forest, and now you must take care of him.

includes: fluff, episode 6 heavy spoilers, probably historically inaccurate w some parts but we’re just gonna Let That Slide, not proofread again oops

wc: 1.3k

a/n: i love him so bad. rn my top 3 tb characters are rhaenyra rhaena and addam. he’s so sweet!! i really hope we get to see a lot more of him in the next few episodes

-

Addam is bewildered when he returns to your home, panting, eyes wide and mouth agape. You’ve never seen him like this, but you guess that it’s the dragon laying beside your house that’s done it.

“What’s happened?” You exclaim when you see the way he’s stumbled in, bleeding from a cut on his cheek.

“…The, the dragon,” He mumbles, locked hair spilling over his shoulders. Addam walks over to where you stand by the kitchen table, hands gently grasping your forearms, as yours do his, thumbs running over your skin to ground himself. He smells strange, like something otherworldly. Could it have been because of the beast outside your door?

“It came to me, followed me through the woods by the shore. I think I’ve claimed him. Yes, that’s what I’ve done. I must go.” Addam attempts to retract himself from your grip, but to no avail.

The pots and pans inside rattle when the silver creature lay its head on the yard outside, no doubt resting from its flight. “Please, my love,” Addam insists. “I need to go and see the queen myself. She is in need of more dragons herself, is she not? If I serve her, perhaps she will allow you and I to live at Dragonstone with her. This is our chance.”

You shake your head, apron ruffling from the beach’s wind blowing through the window. Addam has always been ambitious, has always wanted the best for you and himself. He’s fiercely loyal to you, a quality that made you want to marry him in the first place.

“Addam.” Your hands fly up to cup his cheeks, stopping him from continuing on with his tangent. “You’re covered in gashes and dirt and sand. At least let me lend you a hand.”

He softens at that, jaw seeming to unclench. Addam’s brown eyes have always been expressive, and now they seem to look at you as if you’re the sweetest person he’s ever known. “…I suppose you’re right,” He mutters, “but we must make haste.”

Finally, you let go of each other. You use one of your hands to intertwine your fingers with his, and the other to grip your skirts as you lead him to your room. It’s small and modest, mostly swallowed up by the bed you share. “Sit,” You say, almost commandingly, quickly fetching a spare piece of cloth by the tub in the main room and a bowl of water.

Addam’s eyes almost glint at the way you flounce about before him. He spreads his legs so you are able to stand between them, chin tilting up so he can make eye contact with you while you fix him up.

“Let me see.”

He holds out his right arm, palm up, covered in tiny scratches and sand from his poor attempt to escape from his new dragon. Seasmoke, he remembers. Addam squeezes your right hand lightly while the other cleans him up.

You barely manage to suppress a heavy scoff at the mess in front of you, but you dab gently at it with the towel anyway, soaked with water. “What did you do?” You ask, brows knitting together. “Did you try to run from it?”

“Yes,” He admits, face scrunching together at the fresh memory. You’ve told him to be careful of the sky-beasts constantly looming over the two of you, and he knows he’ll be scolded for trying to escape the damn thing.

You shake your head, mostly to yourself, and Addam’s shoulders deflate. “Well, what would you have done?” He asks, exasperated. “My apologies for wanting to come home to you tonight.”

You pinch his arm. “I only worry for you,” You say, voice soft. Addam and his brother, Alyn, are the only family you’ve left; you’d never known your father, and your sweet mother had died of a fever shortly after your seventeenth nameday. She hadn’t been able to last, to see you wed the man you love so dearly.

“…What will you say, when you see Queen Rhaenyra? She may think you are coming as a foe, to battle rather than service.”

Addam hisses as you brush against a particularly deep cut, eyes squeezing shut. “Sorry,” You say, and he only tips your interlaced fingers up to his lips and kisses the back of your hand.

Your husband pauses after he lets your hands back down, considering the weight of whatever his words to the Black Queen will mean. He almost thinks of it as a duty, to you and his brother. To further your ever so small family.

“I suppose the words will come to me when it happens.” He swallows harshly, eyes averted from yours, darting around like he’s telling himself to fucking think.

You’ve moved onto his other arm, now, and suddenly the odor of him has become unbearable. It’s nothing like anything you’ve smelled before.

Grimacing, you drop the washcloth and cover your nose with your hand, taking a step back. “What?” questions Addam, clearly confused. “What’s the matter?”

“Gods, you fucking stink. What is that?”

Addam laughs. He laughs, tension seeping out of him as he does. “It must be the dragon,” He claims, reaching out to grab your waist and pull you back towards him. “Don’t mind it, please.”

You’re unable to fight the smile you feel blooming, because despite the fact that your husband reeks of his new dragon sleeping outside your home, and your feet are sore from walking to the markets, only to find nothing, and your nerves are set ablaze thinking of his meeting with Rhaenyra, Addam is here. He’s here with you, holding you, safe in the comfort of your humble little home.

The feeling is fleeting, only settling in you for a moment, but you tip your head down to press a kiss to his mouth. “You must be vigilant,” You plead when you pull away, ignoring the way Addam’s lips seem to chase after yours. “And you must return to me. I do not know what I would do if I were to lose you.”

“I will be. I swear it.”

You brush away the dried blood on his cheek with the cloth, frowning. “We should leave, shouldn’t we? Fly to Essos, where we will be safe without the threat of war. That dragon is large enough to saddle three, isn’t it? We can go-“

A thumb soothingly presses against your lips, silencing you. “…If I can put the thing to use, it will strengthen us. Strengthen whatever I have with my father.”

Addam had always been desperate to get the same attention from Lord Corlys that Alyn had always seemed to receive after he’d saved the man. You’d never spoken to the Lord Velaryon yourself before, but it was hard to miss the way he’d stare at you when you visited your husband in the shipyard, almost melancholically.

“I do not care for jewels and gowns and for you to be gilded in glory, Addam,” You state, pushing his wrist away from your face. “I care for you. Should we not go now? I could find your brother.”

“No.” He shakes his head, standing from the bed, now towering over you. His fingers, callused from his seemingly never-ending work on Lord Corlys’s ship, caress your waist almost reverently.

Almost every inch of your skin heats up when Addam leans down to kiss your chest, right where your heart is. The skin is covered by the sea-blue gown you wear, a white apron tied about your waist, and you shudder at the feel of his lips on such an intimate spot.

He kisses up from your bosom to your mouth again, firm and sweet and longing. There’s no guarantee you’ll ever see him again, but some strange part of you feels that all will be well. It’s a naive thought, perhaps, but one you welcome nonetheless.

“I will come back to you,” He promises, voice rasping. “I love you.”

[gyuswhore]

Statistically Speaking...

part of the svt TA collab

[full fic here]

kim mingyu x reader

est. word count: 10-15k [fat chance]

est. release date: 10th September

warnings: TA! mingyu, fluff, smut [MINORS DNI], angst, statistics, more to be added in final post

synopsis: In all your years of academic endurance, you’ve never failed. A 100% success rate, despite you cutting it close at times. However, the line graph that is your life starts tanking somewhere around the time you began taking this hellsent Statistics in Psychological Research class. With a professor that wouldn’t know his ass from his head, and an overworked, overenthusiastic, and overcaptivating TA, it couldn't possibly get any worse than this. However, statistically speaking,…it could.

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[a/n]: first look into the TA collab fic!!! @camandemstudios has been along time in the making and I cant wait for you all to read all of the fics in full. accept this piece offering from me and please let me know what you think of it so far!

masterlist

“Right. How can I help you?”

Pulling out your printed assignment, you bring the sheets of stapled paper to the centre of the table, writing facing him. 

One look at the sparse format of the cover page, Mingyu blows a full mouth of air at the sight of recognition. Without you having to say a thing, he flicks to the very last page, finding the rubric printed on a separate page. 

“It’s a 37,” you inform him like he couldn’t see the bold 37/100 in the bottom Total cell. 

“Do you think you deserved a better grade?” he asks. It would have sounded direct, an accusation even. But he asks with an intonation of genuinity, like he genuinely wanted to know. 

It stumps you regardless.

“Well…I know I can do better, at least,” you decide to answer. 

“You’re here, which means you’re at least willing to try. That’s a start,” he murmurs. His eyes are laser focused on the sheet beneath him, holding it open as his eyes move faster across the page than you can keep up with. Somehow talking to you while taking in the words on the paper.

“I remember marking this,” he says, looking up to address you. “Your concepts are nearly there, but your structure and wording were the problem.”

“You marked them?”

He raises his brow, “I hope that wasn’t an accusation. I need to stick to the rubric.”

“I thought the professor marked the lab reports.”

“He’s…supposed to.” There’s a forced reservedness in his voice. “I mark them and he puts in his comments if he has any. But I’m not sure you’d fare any better than this if it was him behind that pen either.”

Every question that floated in memorisation, from the form and structure, to the nitty gritties of the data presentation, all evaporate as you realise you’re at a loss for words. 

Even more embarrassingly, you feel tears prick the back of your eyes as the next words leave you in a low voice, “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“That’s alright,” he says as reassurance, though it sounds awfully rehearsed. Like he says it everyday. “We’ll work through it.”

He lets out a big sigh, adjusting in his chair and running a hand through his hair. The motion has you noticing the dishevelled nature of the mop on his head, un-uniformed and sticking out at certain places, yet still somehow cohesive with his look. His shoulders are straight and taut, fingers working as they fiddle and flick the pen in his hand. 

Despite it all, his shirt is ruffled and creased, unbuttoned at the first couple steps. The buttons are misaligned, one side of his collar higher on his neck than the other. It takes an effort to not reach over and fix it for him.

“Lab reports can be quite tricky if you aren’t sure what you’re doing. Did you refer to the tutorial?”

You mean the one that did nothing to help? “Yes.”

“You got those bits right, format and whatnot. But—”

“It was a lump of writing about subheadings and word counts,” you say plainly.

Mingyu lips are in a tight line. “Well, yes, but it helps—”

“I know the results are supposed to go in the results section. I don’t need a PDF to tell me that,” you cut him off. Your voice is reserved, and you hope it comes off as a point across and not a complaint. Although it was a complaint. “I want to know why the entire section was ruled off as incorrect when we were never properly taught how to write it in the first place.”

“Dr. Cho—”

“Is no help.”

“I understand—”

“He can’t even mark his own papers. I’m quite sure that’s not in your job description. It’s supposed to be him here. Not you.”

It’s silent. There was nothing in your voice that suggested you wished to pick a fight, on the contrary, quite calm and matter of fact. Mingyu’s fingernails are going white as his grip on his pen and paper grow stronger. 

“And yet, we continue to show up. Because we do what we must.” He raises his head in control, a small smile on his face, eyebrows unnaturally raised. “And, better that I’m here rather than no one at all. I can help you too.”

Help, he did. 

Mingyu had made it quite clear his time with you was limited, but by the end of the near 25 minute session, nearly every inch of your printed assignment was covered different colours of notes and corrections, additional papers and post-it notes pasted on the back as you remain careful to not lose them as you slip the stack in your bag. 

It’s only then that you spot the segregated stack of papers in your bag that you remember. 

“I almost forgot,” you say, grabbing the pile and placing it in front of him. 

“Where did you find this?” he asks sharply. 

“You left them at the desk of the lecture hall last week,” you say, before quickly adding, “There was a class right after you left. I took them off the professor’s hands before they got lost. Thought it might be important.”

“I’ve been looking all over for these,” he says as he goes through the pages and files. Random sticky tabs and highlighted regions across the pages. The leather strap watch with the broken clock face remains on top, and he picks it up. He looks up to you with wide, sparkling eyes and a smile that feels genuine. “Thank you.”

You flush for some reason, “O–of course, couldn’t just leave them there.”

It isn’t till you’re pushing yourself out of your chair that he says something. “You can come in at 3:30 tomorrow.”

“Pardon?”

He’s stood up as well. “I have a free thirty minutes before office hours formally start. I can help you out a little more without the crowd.” 

Feet planted on the ground, there’s not much you can do but stare. “Um, sure. I can come in a little early.”

He nods casually, “Thanks again for the papers. And the watch.”

You smile, “No problem.”

[heich0e]

sakusa is not a fan of babies.

he thinks they're sort of annoying. and loud. and he doesn't understand why their hands are always sticky.

he doesn't feel any real paternal instinct or drive to have kids of his own, and he never has, but when atsumu's baby looks up at him from the stroller you pushed court-side in the MSBY training gym one afternoon, with his big round eyes and a (frankly kind of endearingly dumb) look...

kiyoomi can admit the kid's not totally repulsive.

"omi-omi!" atsumu chirps cheerfully from the other side of the stroller when he notices his teammate approach, leaning over the handle towards him—in response to which kiyoomi recoils slightly on instinct. "isn't he cute? looks just like me, huh?"

kiyoomi opts to ignore atsumu, and turns to you instead—standing at your husband's side with a wry but affectionately exasperated little smile. you shoot kiyoomi an apologetic look for atsumu's antics while the two of you greet each other politely.

truthfully, you're one of the few visitors to the jackals's training gym who kiyoomi is willing to take a break in his practice to greet. though he usually finds these sorts of disruptions troublesome, you rarely visit and never stay long out of respect for the team's time, so he doesn't mind it quite so much. you're here this afternoon just to drop off paperwork your husband left behind at home that morning, even after you reminded him twice not to forget—which you explain with a pointed look at the blonde at your side. (kiyoomi has long-believed you're entirely too good—too sensible—to be married to a guy like miya.)

greetings aside, atsumu jumps right back into his nonsense.

"so, omi—wanna hold him?"

kiyoomi's lips part to immediately decline the offer, but just before he can get the words past his teeth—

"mimi!"

he freezes.

kiyoomi's gaze flickers down to the little boy in the pram again, more in shock than anything, and finds the baby's eyes are still firmly fixed in his direction—a tiny, semi-toothed grin on display now. "mimi!" the child says again, with that same lilt of excitement and a giggle as his little hand reaches out in the outside hitter's direction.

sakusa glances up at miya suspiciously—notably excusing you from the receiving end of his mistrustful gaze.

"what's mimi?" kiyoomi asks him flatly.

"yer mimi!" atsumu laughs, reaching forward and ruffling his son's hair affectionately. "little guy watches the game tapes with me on rest days so mama here can get some rest of her own. he musta heard me complainin' about ya messin' up yer serves one too many times."

"he picked it up a while ago," you add, shoving lightly at atsumu's arm for his rudeness. your eyes twinkle with mirth as you go on to say: "he always cheers when you're on the screen. i think you might be his favourite player."

atsumu guffaws at the suggestion, balking about the indignity—the betrayal—of it all, but kiyoomi largely ignores him (which he's gotten very good at over the years) and looks down at the baby once more instead. the little boy's hand is still outstretched in his direction, waving enthusiastically for his attention. kiyoomi peeks at you as if to translate.

"he just wants to say hi," you explain with an encouraging smile, coming around to the side of the stroller and crouching at your son's side. you press a kiss to his squishy cheek, and he gurgles happily in response with his hand still waving. "you're excited to see mimi, huh?"

and, well, kiyoomi's just as shocked as anyone else when he reaches out and tentatively brushes the tips of his fingers against the little boy's outstretched palm. even more shocked when he doesn't pull away once the baby's little hand wraps itself tightly around his pointer finger with a delighted squeal.

your son's hand is surprisingly soft—and thankfully not sticky.

and for the first time in his life he can't help but think that maybe babies aren't so bad after all.

at least this one isn't.

(the credit for which kiyoomi gives entirely to you and not your obnoxious husband.)

[umamaki]

HOW'S THE VIEW FROM UP THERE?

1/5 of my valentine's day event!

sylus x reader

CW reader with female anatomy, explicit smut, established relationship, kinda cutesy domestic imo, pet names, oral sex (f!receiving), oral slight teeth... wc. 0.9k

NOTE pls bear with me. drafting this was the hardest thing i’ve done and i think i genuinely forgot how to write.

You lean against the headboard, unmoving as Sylus lays on top of you. He’s on his stomach and his head rests just below your chin. You’d believe he’s asleep if not for his fingers absentmindedly tapping against your ribcage.

It’s out of the blue, but you can’t shake the urge to tell him the thought that just came to mind. A hand reaches down to play with his hair, lightly twirling his strands and scratching his scalp. He groans in contentment. The room’s silence had been broken and you take it as your chance. 

“Y’know, Sylus…”

You trail off, vaguely shy. He waits before prodding you on, “yes, what is it?”

“I… quite like this view of you.” He raises his head now, still confused. You continue, “I mean, seeing the top of your head like this. I like it. I like it a lot.”

There was truth in your words. Sylus is typically the one who towers over you, the one is used to seeing the top of your head. And so you’ve grown to cherish the moments in which he feels comfortable to be in a vulnerable position around you, offering his body to you, allowing you to touch him wherever you please. Though, the thought of not doing so had never once crossed his mind. 

So it intrigues him, what you had said. “Is that so?” You nod. He brings himself to hover face to face with you, “and what other times do you see the top of my head?”

You look up to think. He appreciates the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks and how your lips subconsciously pout when you’re lost in thought. 

“Well… When you carry me on your shoulders, when you tie my shoelaces, or right now when you lay on me, and um,” your voice lowers in saying the last part; you’re still a little embarrassed. 

But Sylus has never been a believer of shame. He’s smirks down at you now, a spark of excitement in his eyes. “Could you repeat that last part for me, sweetie?”

“You heard me.” You stand your ground.

“I did not,” he feigned innocence, eyebrows raised, “please?”

“I said, I like seeing the top of your head when you.. go down on me, too.” Your hands come up to cover your face in embarrassment as quickly as Sylus raises his to remove them from your face. 

“If you wanted me to eat you out, you could’ve just asked me to, dear.”

He laughs when you push his forehead back. The trail of kisses he leaves from your jaw to collarbone tickles and you give in, “fine, go on then,” your legs spread open for him, you sink back into the sheets, an invitation for him.

“Not feeling shy anymore, hm?” Of course he gives into your wishes, but it isn’t Sylus if he doesn’t at least ruffle you up beforehand. He licks a teasing stripe up through the fabric of your panties, eyes never breaking away from yours. “How’s the view now?”

His hot breath mingles with the wet patch on your underwear as he speaks directly into your cunt. You’re too pent up to entertain his teasing. An impatient hand pushes his face back down onto your heat, “view’s good, great. Please continue.”

You feel him smile into your cunt. He peels the fabric off, afterwards using his finger to separate the string of arousal that clung to your undergarment. The cold air of the room on your wet pussy makes you clench around nothing. “I can tell, you’re already drenched.”

He begins to lap at your slick folds before you can get a word back in. He eats you out like a man starved; never once coming up for air, but inhaling the scent of your heat so intensely that his back rises and falls with each deep breath. 

His hands are splayed out on each of your thighs, keeping your legs apart, allowing himself to relentlessly continue lapping up your leaking juices, savoring your taste on his tongue. Your legs shake under his grip as he switches between flattening and tensing his tongue, pushing the muscle up your cunt and through your folds. His nose bumps into your clit, sending a jolt up your body.

“Oh my god—Sylus—” the stimulation draws out breathless moans and whimpers from your lips and he’s enjoying every sound of it, “Sylus, m’close.”

“Yeah? Gonna come on my face baby?” His red eyes lock with your pleading ones before shifting his appreciative gaze down to the marks on your tits and the crease in your tummy, then back onto your eyes.

“Mhm—” 

“Now tell me,” his bruising grip on your legs pushes them up, knees reaching your ears, “you cumming because of the view? Or because of my tongue on your pussy?” He had always been so brazen with his words, never filtering his vulgar language. For some reason, the fact turns you on extraordinarily. 

“B-both!” You had to stutter it out in between moans, using up the last of your coherence to respond to him.

“Good.” You’re immediately taken to your climax when he catches your clit between his teeth; he does it lightly, but the unexpected sharpness of it immediately sends your orgasm crashing through you. His tongue guides you through your release, unwavering, despite your thrashing body beneath him. The orgasm is intense and overwhelming, blurring your vision before finally making your body go slack against the sheets. 

At last, he relieves you from the overstimulation. Your sheen covers the entirety of his chin, and he’s shameless in licking his lips clean when he catches you staring. 

“Darling, I just might have a new favorite view after this.”

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@jin-fei @isagistar @venussakura @syluriar @shoyosthighs

[un-fwuit-un-fwog]

Ruffled Hair and Genuine Smiles

Riddle x !Mother Figure! Reader (platonic)

It was after Riddle's overblot, when you crouched next to him on the ground as he cried and gently wiped his tears before offering the warmest hug he's ever gotten in his life, that he first felt that warm feeling in his chest.

You went on to offer to help him make the tart Ace demanded as an apology; pointing out that Ace had plenty of help making his and therefore Riddle deserved at least one person to help him.

When it came to baking the tart, Riddle had that unfamiliar, warm feeling in his chest the whole time you two were working.

You giggled when he got flour on his cheek, and when he pouted, you smudged some on your own as well so the two of you would match.

Riddle was stunned by your action, but he found himself letting out the most genuine laugh he's laughed in ages.

When Riddle mentioned the oyster sauce you gave him a strange look before shrugging and telling him to go ahead and add it. (It would he Trey, the one who told him this little 'trick', that would be tasting the consequences)

You could see Riddle trying his hardest to be better after his overblot, so you made sure to let him know you saw his efforts. Sometimes you did this with words, and other times you did it by fondly ruffling his hair.

It doesn't matter if you're all that much older than Riddle or not, at this point he was starting to unconsciously see you as a mother figure.

On the rare occasion that he didn't already have his tie tied perfectly and positioned just right, you would come up and do it for him. (there's that warm feeling again)

On test days you'd meet up with him after school to see how he did. When he did well you hugged him happily. When he did poorer than he hoped, you still hugged him: reassuring him that this wouldn't be the end of the world. "We all fall short of our goals sometimes. It's a part of life and it's how we learn. Look at your test. The ones you got wrong are marked. You can take this information and use it to do better next time. You know what you struggle with, so work on it. There will be plenty more tests for you to ace in the future, but you won't be able to do so if you allow yourself to be put down by this one. I believe in you, Riddle; and I'm proud of you whether you get 100% or not."

Riddle was stunned by your words and ended up crying in your welcoming arms for a second time.

Anytime he would slip up and get angry, you'd gently calm him down and help him find a better solution than yelling.

Anytime the Equestrian Club would have a competition of some sort, you'd be in the front row of the crowd: camera in hand. Somehow, he could always hear your cheers over the rest of the crowd.

Riddle somehow got a button torn off his uniform jacket once, and you offered to fix it for him. The next day, you showed up to Heartslabyul bright and early in the morning (with the slightest dark circles under your eyes from staying up all night making sure your stitches were perfect) Jacket in hand.

He didn't realize until later in the day when he reached his hand in his pocket that you had left a little note. "Have a good day, Riddle! Good luck on your test! :)"

Anytime Riddle would have to call his mom, and inevitably be left upset afterwards, you'd always be there for him with your arms open.

"Oh" he thought, finally piecing his feelings together. That warm feeling in his chest every time you did something for him that showed him you cared. . .that's what it's supposed to feel like to be loved by a mother. Not cold and harsh. Soft and warm.

Nobody dares utter a word when they see the usually uptight Riddle not so discreetly looking for you after class on test days: 100% score in hand. Nor do they utter a word when they see how excited he looks when he finally finds you and shows you the test. And they certainly don't say anything when you get away with ruffling his hair and giving him a soft hug.

"I'm proud of you, Riddle." This is a sentence his real mother has never once uttered to him, at least not genuinely. It's come to the point that any time he hears those words he can't help but feel inadequate. That's what his mother always made him feel when she said those words in that ingenuine tone of hers.

But when you said it?

When you said it in that oh-so-gentle tone with that oh-so-genuine smile. . .

Riddle felt love

He finally felt like someone was truly proud of him, and he was proud of himself too.

He accidentally calls you mom once, but instead of looking at him disgustedly or yelling at him as he expected; your laugh flows airily through the air like a wind chime. It's not in a condescending way, but rather one that conveys a sense of fondness. You simply ruffle his hair and smile.

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𓈒⠀݁⠀﹙ 𝓢﹚𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹 ☆ ₊⠀ ៸៸៸

君を愛しすぎて、 恐ろしいくらいだ。

# 𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 : 𝑌𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝒞𝓁𝒶𝓇𝓀 𝒦ℯ𝓃𝓉 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 ☆ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ¹

# 𝑺𝒀𝑵𝑶𝑷𝑺𝑰𝑺 : 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘉𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘦'𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳... 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘦𝘵, 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳.

# 𝑾𝑨𝑹��𝑰𝑵𝑮 : 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘴𝘺𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘵, 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵, 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘱, 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘴𝘺𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳/𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘦𝘥. 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘋𝘕𝘐 ⚠

# 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬 : 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦.

The first time he met her, he had smiled—all warm and friendly, kneeling slightly to meet her gaze.

"Hey there, kiddo," he had greeted, holding out a hand for a handshake. "I’m Clark. It’s nice to meet you."

She had looked at his hand. Then at him.

Then she slapped it away.

"Don’t touch me, you giant farm freak," she had huffed, crossing her arms with the most dramatic pout he had ever seen.

Bruce had sighed in the background, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Sweetheart," he muttered, rubbing his temple.

Clark, ever the optimist, had laughed it off. "That’s okay, I get it. You’re shy."

"I’m not shy, I just don’t like you."

Oh.

Well. That was… blunt.

Bruce had sighed again, clearly exhausted.

"She’s a little difficult," he admitted, shooting Clark a look and said, Don’t take it personally. She’s like this with everyone.

But Clark did take it personally.

Because why didn’t she like him?

Every time he visited, she made it her mission to make his life miserable.

She refused to be in the same room as him.

She glared at him when he tried to talk to her.

She scoffed whenever he spoke—literally scoffed, as if the very sound of his voice was offensive to her.

But the worst part?

She hit him.

Not in a playful way, either. No, she slapped him.

Like the time he tried to ruffle her hair and she smacked his hand away so hard he actually had to take a step back.

Or the time he tried to pick her up and fly her around Gotham for fun, thinking maybe she’d like to see the city from above—only for her to kick him in the chest with all the force her tiny body could muster.

It didn’t hurt, obviously.

But emotionally?

It hurt a lot.

"Bruce," Clark sighed one evening, after yet another failed attempt at bonding. "Why does she hate me?"

Bruce, sitting at the Batcomputer, barely looked up. "She hates everyone."

Clark frowned. "No, she doesn’t. She loves Alfred. She loves Dick. Hell, she even tolerates Jason."

Bruce exhaled through his nose. "She’s… selective."

"Selective?" Clark echoed. "Bruce, she tried to bite me yesterday."

A pause.

Bruce rubbed his temple. "She has… behavioral issues."

"No kidding," Clark muttered.

And yet, despite everything, despite all the slaps, the glares, the insults—

Clark still tried.

Because deep down, Clark just wanted to be the cool uncle she could count on.

Even if, right now, she wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face.

She was nineteen now.

Not a bratty little girl anymore—at least, not in the way she used to be. She had grown into her attitude, into her wicked little smirks and sharp, teasing words.

And Clark?

Clark had never stood a chance.

"Come on, Clark," she hummed, tugging on his tie as he stood behind her in the luxury boutique. "Be a good boy and carry my bags."

There was nothing sweet about the way she said it. No hint of genuine affection. Just amusement, like he was some plaything she enjoyed toying with.

Clark exhaled slowly through his nose, the fabric of his tie clutched between her fingers. She smelled expensive—velvet and jasmine, something rich and indulgent.

He shouldn’t be here.

He shouldn’t be doing this.

But he still took the bags from her hands without a word. Because she expected him to.

Because she always expected him to.

And God help him—he never had the strength to say no.

It had started gradually.

One day, she called him to help carry her shopping bags. The next, she was dragging him into dressing rooms to critique her outfits.

She’d smirk at him through the mirror, knowing damn well what she was doing when she turned too slow, when her fingers brushed his as she adjusted a strap.

And he?

He tried—God, he tried—to be good. To be the man he was supposed to be.

But she made it so difficult.

Because she was Bruce’s daughter.

Because she was forbidden.

Because she wasn’t a child anymore—and she wanted him to notice.

And he had noticed.

Every time she crossed her legs just a little too slowly.

Every time she leaned in, speaking so close to his ear.

Every time her lips curled in that smug little smirk, like she knew exactly what kind of thoughts were crawling through his mind.

Clark felt sick.

He wasn’t supposed to feel this way.

He was supposed to be better.

But she… she made it impossible.

And she knew it.

"You’re staring, Clark."

Her voice was smooth, honeyed with amusement. She leaned against the railing of balcony, sipping from a champagne flute like she owned the world.

Clark tore his gaze away, clenching his jaw.

"I wasn’t."

She laughed—soft, teasing, utterly cruel.

"You’re a terrible liar."

And then she turned to him, slow and deliberate, like a cat playing with a mouse.

"I like it, you know."

His breath hitched.

She tilted her head, her smirk widening as she caught the way his hands flexed at his sides.

"Knowing that even you aren’t so perfect."

Clark should have left.

He should have flown away, should have ended this madness before it spiraled even further.

But instead, he stood there. Still. Silent. Waiting.

Because she was right.

He wasn’t perfect.

Not when it came to her.

Never when it came to her.

Clark tried.

God, he tried.

His hands were on his wife, his mouth on her skin, his body moving inside her—fast, hard, like he could pound her out of his head.

Like he could fuck her out of his head.

It didn’t work.

No matter how tight his grip, no matter how deep he buried himself in the warmth of the woman he swore to love, it wasn’t enough.

Because she was there.

Not in the room. Not in his bed.

But in his mind.

"I like it, you know."

Her voice curled around his brain like silk, soft and sweet.

Clark clenched his jaw, his rhythm faltering.

He couldn’t think about her. Not now.

Not with his wife’s nails dragging down his back.

Not with her soft, breathless moans filling the room.

Not with her beneath him, giving him everything, and yet—

Yet it still wasn’t enough.

His fingers dug into the sheets as he thrust harder, desperate, as if he could fuck his way back to sanity. As if he could drown out that voice, that goddamn voice whispering in his skull—

"Knowing that even you aren’t so perfect."

Clark growled, pressing his face against his wife’s shoulder, biting down as he spilled inside her.

He didn’t moan her name.

He barely moaned at all.

Because deep down, in the filthiest, most twisted part of himself—

He knew who he had been fucking in his mind.

Later, when his wife lay naked on his chest, fingers lazily caressing his skin, Clark stared at the ceiling.

What was wrong with him?

She was here. The woman he loved, the woman he married, the woman who had given him her body, her vows, her whole damn heart.

And yet, all he could hear was her voice.

All he could see was her smirk.

All he could feel was the way she had pulled his tie, the way she had toyed with him, knowing damn well she had him by the throat.

Clark squeezed his eyes shut, his breath tight in his chest.

It was wrong.

It was so fucking wrong.

And yet—

When he finally drifted off to sleep, it wasn’t his wife’s warmth he dreamed of.

It was hers.

The clinking of silverware against porcelain filled the quiet space of their dining room.

Clark should have been present—should have been engaged, smiling at his wife, asking his son about his day.

Instead, his thoughts were somewhere else.

Or rather, on someone else.

Her lips.

Soft. Smirking. Painted in that deep, wicked red she loved to wear.

For God’s sake, she could be his daughter.

Clark swallowed, forcing himself to focus on his plate, on the sound of his son talking about his day, on the warmth of Lois sitting across from him.

Then—

Ding-dong.

The doorbell rang.

Lois stood, her brows already furrowed as she moved to open it. Clark exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. Maybe it was Bruce. Maybe it was anyone else.

But when he heard Lois’ voice—tight, cold—he already knew.

"What are you doing here?"

And then—that voice.

"My father wants Clark to take me shopping. He’s the only man he trusts, after all."

Clark’s stomach dropped.

Slowly, he turned in his chair.

And there she was.

A tight black dress that hugged every curve. The hem too short, the neckline too low, her makeup subtle, like a trap waiting to be sprung.

She smirked at him, as if she knew exactly what kind of thoughts were twisting in his mind.

Clark could see the way Lois’ jaw clenched. She didn’t argue, but she didn’t have to. Her silence was enough.

"Give me two minutes," Clark muttered, pushing away from the table.

She only smiled as he brushed past her, heading to grab his coat.

The silence in the car was thick.

Clark kept his hands on the wheel, his knuckles white. He didn’t look at her. He couldn’t.

But she?

She watched him.

Legs crossed, lips curled, one manicured finger tracing patterns on her bare thigh.

He cleared his throat. "So… where are we going?"

A slow, lazy hum. "Oh, nowhere in particular."

He frowned. "I thought Bruce wanted—"

She laughed. Soft. Sweet. Cruel.

"He didn’t say anything, Clark," she admitted, voice syrupy with amusement. "I just thought we should have dinner. A little apology, you know, for my behavior the other day."

Clark finally glanced at her, suspicion in his gaze.

She smiled.

"I was rude. And my father always taught me to respect my elders."

The way she said it made his stomach twist.

Her eyes flickered over him, slow, appraising.

"So let me make it up to you."

Clark swallowed, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

This was a bad idea.

A very bad idea.

And yet—

He didn’t turn the car around.

The restaurant was lavish—gold-trimmed chandeliers, soft candlelight flickering over polished mahogany tables, the air thick with the scent of fine wine and indulgence.

Clark felt out of place.

Not because he wasn’t used to luxury—Lois had dragged him to a fair share of high-end places before—but because of who he was here with.

She sat across from him, poised and elegant, her black dress clinging to her like it had been poured onto her body. Her hair was sleek, her lips painted that same sinful red, her nails tapping against her wine glass as she gazed at him with something dangerous in her eyes.

Like a cat watching a mouse.

Or worse—like a predator watching prey that didn’t know it was already caught.

"Order whatever you want," she murmured, voice light, playful. Too easy.

Clark’s throat was dry. He glanced at the menu, barely able to focus on the words. "This place is expensive," he muttered.

Her smile widened, lazy and amused. "And?"

He sighed, setting the menu down. "I can pay for my own meal."

A small, soft laugh. "I know you can," she mused, tilting her head, studying him like he was a particularly interesting specimen under glass. "But I invited you. That means I pay."

"That’s not necessary," he muttered.

She hummed. "Just let me take care of you, Clark."

He tensed.

Because the way she said it, the way she let his name slip from her lips like silk, was wrong. Too intimate. Too indulgent.

Still, he said nothing as the waiter approached. He ordered something simple, quick, something to get this dinner over with. She, of course, ordered the most expensive wine on the menu, smiling sweetly as the waiter practically tripped over himself in the presence of her beauty.

Clark stared down at the table, willing himself to act normal.

She was Bruce’s daughter. She was half his age. She was off-limits.

And yet—

She made it so damn hard.

Conversation came easy. Too easy.

She asked him about work, about Smallville, about Krypton—things she had no reason to be interested in, and yet she listened, really listened, her chin resting on her palm as she sipped her wine and smiled.

Clark hated how good it felt.

Hated how, for just a moment, he almost forgot that this was dangerous.

And then—

Her fingers brushed against his.

Clark’s breath hitched.

It was soft. Barely there. A fleeting touch as she reached for her glass, her fingertips ghosting over the back of his hand, warm and delicate.

He tried to ignore it.

Tried to pretend it didn’t happen.

But then she did it again.

And this time, she let it linger.

Clark swallowed hard, staring down at the table, at the way her slender fingers curled around his own, as if testing, as if seeing how far she could push before he pulled away.

He should have. He should have yanked his hand back.

But he didn’t.

Because his body—traitorous, weak, craving something he shouldn’t—refused to move.

"You’re so tense," she murmured, voice smooth as silk, as warm as the candlelight flickering between them.

Clark’s jaw clenched. "This is inappropriate."

She laughed—soft, amused, unbothered.

"Inappropriate?" she echoed, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand, slow, deliberate. "Clark, I’m just holding your hand."

He inhaled sharply. "You know what you’re doing."

Her lips curled. "Do I?"

"Yes," he ground out.

She tilted her head, her nails lightly dragging against his skin. "Then tell me to stop."

Clark finally looked at her.

She was waiting.

She knew. She knew damn well.

That he wanted to.

That he should.

That he couldn’t.

And that—

That was what made her smile widen.

The drive was silent.

Not peaceful. Heavy. Suffocating.

Clark kept his hands tight on the wheel, his knuckles white as the city lights blurred past. She sat beside him, her posture relaxed, her scent curling into his lungs—velvet and jasmine, warmth and sin.

He needed to take her home. Now.

His body felt wired, skin too tight, thoughts too loud. He needed to get away from her. Away from the way she made him feel. Away from the things she made him think.

And yet—

“Take me here,” she murmured, tapping a name into his GPS.

Clark’s gaze flickered to the screen. A hotel.

His jaw clenched. “No.”

A soft laugh. “Just drop me off, then.”

Clark should have refused. Should have said no, should have driven straight to Wayne Manor and let Alfred deal with her.

Instead, he turned.

He didn’t know why.

Or maybe he did, and that was the worst part.

The hotel was opulent, grand, the kind of place meant for people who could afford indulgence.

Clark felt wrong being here with her. Felt sick.

And yet, he still walked her inside, following her through marble hallways, past velvet-draped corridors, his mind screaming at him to leave, leave, leave.

But he didn’t.

She stopped in front of her door, swiping the keycard, the soft click of the lock echoing too loud.

Clark took a step back. “Go inside.”

She turned to him, tilting her head. “Walk me in?”

“No.”

A smirk. “Why? Afraid?”

Clark exhaled sharply. “Go inside.”

She didn’t listen.

Instead, she stepped closer—so close he could feel the warmth of her breath against his throat.

And then—

A kiss.

Soft. Feather-light. A touch of silk, a whisper of warmth against his lips—like a butterfly’s wing, there and gone in an instant.

Clark froze.

Wide eyes peered up at him, watching. Waiting.

He could still feel it. The ghost of it. The soft press of her lips, something innocent yet tainted—something so terribly, horribly wrong.

She leaned in again.

And this time, he kissed her back.

God forgive him.

He let her.

For a moment—just a moment—he let himself fall.

And it was wrong. So, so wrong.

But she tasted like everything forbidden. Like something that would ruin him completely.

His hands should have pushed her away. Instead, they lingered at her waist.

Her fingers traced his jaw, trailing down his chest, toying with the hem of his shirt—and he let her.

Clark felt sick.

And yet—

He still didn’t stop her.

Because maybe—deep down—he didn’t want to.

And that?

That was the worst sin of all.

The first thing Clark felt was warmth.

Soft. Smooth. Wrong.

His eyes snapped open.

And there she was.

Curled against his chest, her breath slow and steady, her fingers still faintly gripping his skin. The sheets tangled between them, silk pooling around her bare shoulders like some cruel parody of innocence.

Oh, God.

He sucked in a sharp breath, nausea curling in his stomach.

What have I done?

Slowly, carefully, he untangled himself from her. Every movement felt like a sin. His limbs felt heavy, his body aching in ways he refused to acknowledge. He swung his legs off the bed, planting his feet against the cold floor, trying to breathe.

He needed to leave. Now.

But then—

A sleepy murmur. The rustle of silk.

"Clark...?"

His shoulders tensed. He didn’t turn around.

The bed shifted as she sat up, the sheets sliding against her skin. He could hear the way she clutched the fabric to her chest, could feel the weight of her gaze pressing into his back.

"What are you doing?"

Her voice was soft, uncertain. Almost pleading.

Clark clenched his jaw. His hands trembled as he reached for his shirt. He needed to get dressed. He needed to get out.

"This..." His voice came out raw. Ugly. "This should have never happened."

Silence.

Then—softly—"Clark—"

"No." He snapped, whirling to face her. Her eyes widened at the fury in his voice.

"This was a mistake," he hissed. "A disgusting, unforgivable mistake."

Something flickered in her expression—something fragile, something almost wounded.

Clark didn’t care. He couldn’t afford to care.

He yanked his coat over his shoulders, moving toward the door.

But before he could reach it—

Arms wrapped around his waist.

Clark froze.

Her body pressed against his back, her grip tight—desperate.

And then—

A choked breath. A broken whisper.

"Please don’t go."

Clark’s entire body tensed.

Her voice—so different from its usual teasing cruelty—was shaking. Unsteady.

"Please... please don’t leave me alone."

And then—wetness.

Soaking into his shirt. Silent tears.

Clark stared at the door, his hands clenched into fists.

This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real.

She was lying. She had to be lying.

But her grip on him only tightened.

"I feel so lonely without you."

Clark’s breath hitched.

For a moment—just a moment—he thought about turning around.

Thought about holding her.

Thought about whispering things he shouldn’t.

But he didn’t.

He pried her hands from his waist.

And he walked out the door.

Leaving her behind.

Alone.

© stxrkiss ☆ don't copy, translate or use my works here or any other websites.

[http-velvett]

The bat and the black widow

Helping an old friend (part 1)

Summary: An ex black widow assassin, trying to start a new life away from her past, until a friend from the past finds her asking for help

Wc: 2.8k

Relationships: Bruce Wayne/batman x black widow! Reader(romantic), Batfam! X fem! Reader (platonic) , Natasha Romanoff x fem! Reader (platonic)

A/n: so I made this since I got a random urge to wanting to read black widow! Reader x Batman but I found none, so when in doubt make your own! ALSO! If it wasn’t obvious this is a marvel x dc crossover story but it’s more mcu with comic elements x dc since it’s been awhile since I read marvel comics lol. It also has gotten longer than i had originally planned so I will making this into a series ^^

Slowly waking up, you turned to the sides seeing the sunlight peeking through the curtains to keep the room dark, or at least dark as it possibly can with the sun being out now.

After a few seconds of you looking at the windows you slowly stretched your arms upwards, letting out a yawn in the process causing your eyes to water a bit as you sat up.

"Morning." You said softly as you looked at the man that was asleep next to you, as you ran your hand through his black hair.

Bruce shifted a bit in his sleep as he felt your fingers being ran through his hair. Smiling softly at him of his movement you leaned in,giving him a kiss on his cheek.

His eyes soon fluttered open at the action, looking up at you as he smiled at her sitting up. "Morning love." He said, his morning voice making him sound more deeper than usual as he leaned in to you kissing your lips as you kissed him back.

Pulling away from the kiss you got out of bed as you started to get changed into your outfit for the day. "So you have anything planned for us today?" You asked.

Today was a special day for Bruce and you, which was why you asked. As of today it was your guys 3rd year anniversary.

"You think I didn't plan anything for us today?" He asked, getting up from the bed as well as he wrapped his arms around your waist kissing your neck softly.

You hummed as his lips met your neck, you could just melt at his touch.

"No.." you spoke as you turned your head slightly to look at him. "I was just asking since I was also planning on something."

"Oh?" He said a small smile on his face as he placed his chin on your shoulder to look at you.

"Yeah." You replied, fixing the shirt you had put on.

"I have something too." He said as he went to start changing into clothes he'll wear for today.

"But l'll give it to you after what you have planned." He looking over at you as he continued to get dress.

"Well now you're making me eager to figure out what it is." You said, a smile on your face as you walked out of the room.

"Don't worry I'm sure you'll like what I got you."

He called out in reply from the room.

Walking down into the kitchen you smiled as you saw Damian sitting in the kitchen eating his breakfast.

"Morning early bird." You said as you walked over to him ruffling his hair as you went to make a cup of coffee for Bruce and you.

Damian looked up at you as you spoke ruffling his hair. Once you finally moved away from him, he kept his eyes on you. "Morning..." he mumbled as he spoke.

"Morning Ms McGee." Alfred spoke as he handed her a plate with the breakfast he had made.

"Ah thank you Alfred." You said grabbing the plate as you placed it on the counter next to you. "But I told you so many times you can call me y/n." You said before taking a piece of food that was on the plate.

"I don't get why you still bother with that." Dick said as he walked into the kitchen grabbing a plate as he started to fill it up with things he planned to eat for the morning.

You can't help but let out a huff of a chuckle as you poured Bruce and yourself a cup of coffee as you took a sip of the cup you poured for yourself.

"I know but I think I've been here long enough."

"Maybe a little too long." Jason said as he walked into the kitchen looking at you as he grabbed toast that was out and poured himself a cup of orange juice.

"Morning to you too Jason." You just replied with as you looked at him as you ate your breakfast, as you soon spotted Cassandra and Stephanie both coming into the kitchen together. "Morning you two."

"Morning y/n!" Steph said as she walked to the table. "Morning." Cass said right after also taking a seat at the table in the kitchen.

After that Tim walked in followed by Duke coming into the kitchen as well as you greeted them both as they entered.

Soon Bruce finally came down and you smiled as you saw him giving him a kiss on the lips, which caused Damian to turn his head rolling his eyes.

Once you pulled away from the kiss you handed Bruce the cup of coffee you had poured for him.

"So..." Cass said as she took a sip of her cup of tea. "When is y/n going to join us and get her own costume?" She asked, looking at the two of them.

You had a smile on your face but just shook your head at question as you rolled your eyes at it.

"Well-"

"Never." You cut off Bruce before he could finish.

"And why’s that?" Damian asked, raising his eyebrow at you.

"I just don't fight." You simply said as you drank your cottee.

With that Cass let out a sigh. "I was really hoping another girl would join." She mumbled

It was the afternoon. Bruce was out with Tim for a social event, you didn't come with them since Bruce knew you didn't like going to public events.

Dick and Damian were both in the batcave training with each other.

Duke was out on patrol.

Steph and Cass were most likely upstairs, hanging out with each other in either one of their rooms.

Jason was.. well who knows where Jason is half of the time.

And you? You were in the kitchen as you had started to prepare what you wanted to make for Bruce and yours anniversary dinner.

You had asked Alfred if he can get you one of the best wines that Bruce will like, and hearing the front door open and then close it brought to your attention his arrival back to the manor.

"Here you go Ms McGee." He said handing you the bottle of wine he had purchased.

"Thank you Alfred." You said happily, giving him a smile as you placed the wine in a cabinet before heading back over to season the meat once more.

After you had prepared the meat you put it back in the refrigerator, as you started to take out what you needed to make the sauce for the paste you heard the door ring.

"I'll get it Alfred!" You called out as you stopped what you were doing and headed to the door.

"Hello how can-" You stared as you opened the door but soon cut yourself off. "Natasha..." You said more softly as you saw the familiar red hair female in front of you.

"Well, look at you living the life." She said with a smile on her face as she looked at you through the sunglasses she was wearing.

"What are you doing here?.." Was all you can really think of as you just looked at her.

"I need your help." Natasha replied as she looked at you.

"If you need help go get help from S.H.E.l.L.D or the other avengers or something." You said in a low voice too scared anyone would hear you.

"It would only risk the mission." She told you in reply. "Besides, you know Gotham better than them or me." She added.

"Who is it?" You heard Alfred ask you.

"Oh it's no one." You replied, turning to look at him as you smiled. "Just a Girl Scout selling cookies." You told him, making him nod his head in reply before he walked away out of eye and earshot.

"Follow me..." You told Natasha as you moved out of her way, letting her enter before closing the door. You soon made your way up the room that Bruce had given you to do your pottery before closing it and locking it once Natasha entered.

"Do they know?" Natasha asked as she looked at you.

"No, why would they know?" You said as she took a seat in the stool that was in the room. "You helped me bury my past, I've been able to live in peace for 5 years... why would I ruin it?"

"I was just asking..." Natasha said as she looked around at the room that was mainly filled up with vases as she examined them.

You stood quite for a bit as you just observed her.

"What do you need my help with?" You finally asked.

"It has to do with the court of owls-"

"If it has to deal with the court of owls then don't worry, let the bat deal with it." You cut her off

“You didn't let me finish.” She said leaning against the wall as she crossed her arms as she looked at you.

After a few more seconds of silence Natasha finally spoke again. “It doesn't just have to do with the court of owls but also hydra.”

Heading that made you just stand there in shock. “Hydra and the court of owls are working together?..” You asked, making sure you understood what she was saying.

Natasha nodded her head. “I was following some hydra agents to Gotham trying to figure out why they were coming here.” She said as she walked a bit closer to you. “When I finally got to them after some integration they told me that they came here to meet the court of owls today and that they weren’t the only ones.” She told you.

“Did they tell you where they were going to meet them?” You asked.

“They didn’t but it wasn’t hard to find this.” She said going through her pocket as she handed you a small card.

Standing up grabbing it you turned it around to look at it until you spotted the location on the card.

“You think this is where they are meeting?”

“It has to be.. I’ve been watching them for weeks and they walked around the area close to this location more than I count.”

“…Did they tell you why they were meeting them?” You finally asked.

“No, that’s what I need to find out and why I want you to help me.” She answered. “It’s one thing if it was just hydra and the court of owls have never been a threat for us at S.H.E.I.L.D, but if they are starting to work with hydra then they’re becoming more of a threat not just in Gotham but outside.”

You just hummed, nodded your head in agreement. “Yeah… it can’t be good. But I can’t help.” You told her. “Today is Bruce and I's 3rd year anniversary and I was planning on making dinner for us… you should ask someone else you know…”

“I would but not many of them are good at undercover missions and they won’t make it here on time.”

“I don’t do that anymore, you-“

“Y/n please.” Natasha cut you off. “I know you don’t do this anymore, but I’m not asking you as a former assassin, I’m asking you to help as a friend.” She told you. “I know you don’t want to do this type of work anymore, but you and I both know that if Hydra is here then it’s not good for you or this family you have.”

You stood quiet. You knew she was right, that was the whole reason why you never went out in public with Bruce, why you changed your last name, had a small quiet jobbed, why you did everything to hide your past.

It wasn’t because you were ashamed of your past or that you were trying to hide away from the red room (since you knew it was taken down by Natasha), but you were hiding cause you knew if anyone from hydra found you again they’ll “take back what’s theirs”.

“…no you’re right…” You said as you walked over to an old vase you had made. “It can’t be good for me or this family…. Even if they might be able to handle themselves.”

You soon pushed the vase to the floor causing it to break as it revealed what you had put inside. Your old widow suit, two pistols, and widows bite bracelet.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” You asked her as you picked up the items from the floor.

“An hour maybe 2.” Natasha answered. You just hummed at that as you went to put the items in a bag.

“Do you plan on us using a disguise, or are we just gonna break in?”

“Oh don’t worry, the two guys I got were given owl masks, we would have to use them to get in.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” You asked as you started to leave the room heading to the front as you grabbed your brown slouch coat.

“Alfred, I'm heading out with a friend.” You called out as Natasha followed, as she got a glance at the butler.

Alfred nodded his head as he looked over at the red head woman next to you.

“I understand, and who might you be.” He asked mostly to the other woman.

“An old friend.” Natasha replied as the two of you left the manner.

“Hmm I still look good in this.” You said to yourself a smile on your face as you looked at yourself in the mirror, checking yourself out in the black jumpsuit.

The two of you had gone to the apartment that Natasha was staying in, while in Gotham to pick up some things.

“I’m surprised it still fits.” She said a bit teasingly

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You raised your eyebrow as you looked at her.

“Just that you haven’t worn that thing in over 5 years.” She said as she walked over to you handing you a white owl looking mask. “You need this.”

“Thanks.” You responded as you put on your coat once more to hide the weapon that were attached to your body before putting the mask in the pocket.

You watched as Natasha do the same thing before the two of you walked out, heading the car she was using.

You got into the passenger seat at the same time as Natasha, and right as she started the car you two heard a phone ringing, and you knew instantly it was your phone.

Pulling it out you saw the caller ID was Bruce so you immediately picked it up.

“Hey y/n, Alfred told me you went out with an old friend?” You heard him through the other side of the phone.

“Oh yeah. I was actually going to call you about that right now…” You told him. “I didn’t know she would be here, but she wanted to catch up.”

“I didn’t know you knew many people outside of Gotham..” He said.

“Yeah… she's an old friend, we don't talk a lot…” you told him. “But I actually wanted to let you know we kind of got caught up with something. She needs my help with something.”

“What does she need your help with?”

“… pottery..” Was all you can think of saying.

“Pottery really?” Natasha mouths to you quietly as you look over at her seeing she’s holding in a laugh.

You just shrugged. “I didn’t know what else to say.” You mouth back to her quietly.

“Yeah, I don’t know a thing about pottery or what type of clay to use and I knew y/n can help me, sorry for taking her away from you for a while.” Natasha said loud enough so she can be heard through the other side of the phone.

“Yeah… we just left the place she’s staying at now so I can get what I need to teach her… so I’ll probably be late for the dinner I wanted to plan for us…” Was all you told him as you looked at the road in front of you.

“It’s okay… I got caught up in some work of my own, Dick, Tim, and Damian are coming with me for it.” He said, causing you to nod your head even though he can’t see you do it.

“Hmm then maybe I’ll get home before you.” You joked with a smile on your face.

“Hmm maybe, maybe.” He replied and you can just imagine him saying it with a smile on his face.

“Stay safe okay…”

“I will.”

“I love you Bruce..”

“I love you too y/n.”

And with that you hung up the phone, putting the phone away as you turned to look at Natasha.

“We should be at the place in 20 minutes.” She told you and you just donned your head in response letting out a deep sigh you didn’t realize you were holding.

A/n: time to work on part two now 😮‍💨

[wandixx]

Danny, the Young Justice member snippet nr 3 GIW made a lot of mistakes and the biggest one was going against Young Justice part 1

As you can see by the title (I need better ideas, you're all welcome to share yours), this is kinda part of "Danny, the Youg Justice member" but as something I have more of actual idea about. So while I encourage people adding their stuff to other snippets, please let this one be. I will be adding to it. It's even partially written :D

unrelated snippet nr 1, unrelated snippet nr 2

"Hey guys" Danny greeted clearly winded, phasing through the wall. Whole Team turned towards him, some giving him a side eye “Sorry I’m late” 

“You’re good, my dude” Wally answered, patting him on the back as soon as halfa landed, turning into his human form. They gave him a moment to catch his breath(just how fast he tried to fly there?) before grabbing their bags. Dick jumped and threw himself over the speedster's and halfa’s shoulders.

“Happy Harbour, we’re coming!” he yelled.

He fixed his grip when he caught Danny’s quick wince under the pressure as they left the headquarters. Judging by look on his face, Kaldur caught it too.

“So what’s on the agenda?”

“There is an amusement park in city, so we’re going to enjoy our free time there” M’gann explained with excited smile “I can’t wait to see it, I heard it’s fun”

Artemis nodded with a grin.

“I bet I can win more plushies than all of you. No powers,” she demanded after a moment, slamming her hand n a random tree for better dramatic effect.

“Stakes?” he asked, competitive like always. While blonde shared her idea of ‘no locker room duties for a month’, Danny explained all the questions M’gann asked about what even bet was and what stakes meant. Dick was sure she knew the answers to all of them but he didn’t say anything. He was trained well enough to catch Conner listening intently, despite his clear effort to hide it.

It turned into a whole Team competition.

It was going to be an aster.

***

M’gann was having a blast. Everyone already had two to four plushies, stomach full of unhealthy food and manageable nausea from the roller coaster. Wally and Danny were throwing popcorn to each other's mouths, Robin challenged Conner and Artemis to the next game. It really was fun just like she was told!

It was much less fun when literal blast shot a few feets away from them. Ground where it hit was burned. Halfa squealed, projecting a strong wave of distress. Without second thought he threw his hood on and changed his posture, frantically looking for a hiding spot.

Few children started crying, their families scrambling to get away before attackers started shooting again and hurt them. Workers, already used to working in less than ideal circumstances, quickly, but without panic warranted by recognised villains or outright invasion, shut down reinforced blinds and probably walked out to inform someone. At least they didn’t have to worry about potential civilian casualties. 

“Do you know who they are?” M’gann asked, quickly establishing the Mindlink.

“Don’t worry about it” he answered, putting on crazy big sunglasses that Wally won some time before.

“My dude, we just got shot at. We have every right to worry”

“Calm down, Wally. I got shot at, you’re just close by. I’ll handle it” With a ruffle of his hair and a piece of popcorn thrown in his mouth,he turned around, just moment after the next blast almost caught his arm. He plastered a smile on his face.

“Hey, I’ve seen guns like these in laser tag! But I’ve never found them cheap enough to get without selling my kidney!” he yelled enthusiastically.

When the rest of them turned around, M’gann saw ten people in sunglasses and pristine white, holding guns straight from the mad scientist’s lab. THey stood still, projecting surprise bordering on shock. She could also feel hunter's happiness underneath it, intense enough that she considered breaking the ‘don’t mess with people’s brains’ rule. As a treat.

“Don’t worry guys, they won’t harm you. Act like you  don’t believe you’re in danger. Like they're a bunch of LARPers or something” It was easier said than done, especially when Danny, who nearly always underestimated the danger, was so terrified. 

“Who are they?!”

“Wally throw me a bit of popcorn, please” Halfa asked, ignoring Artemis almost yelling in their minds. In turn, he was ignored by the speedster. Three of the men turned to check something on weird sort of scanner. Danny's false smile went from cheerful to embarrassed. 

“Dang me and my poor communication skills” he said, loud enough for men to hear but not enough to sound like he was talking to them, before asking louder “I meant to ask, where have you brought it and how much does it cost?”

This seemed to actually shake men out of their shock. They got furious.

“You won't trick us this time, ghost scum” one of the guys with a scanner snarled. Danny pursed his lips in childish gesture of displeasure.

“Rude much” he muttered as if he wasn’t shining with terror like a lighthouse. Robin perked up as if something got him curious.

“Wait, ghost? What do–”

“What are you cosplaying?” Artemis blurted out. Men got visibly angry but Danny smirked.

“Don't antagonize them,” Kaldur commended. 

“If shit goes south I'll get you out of there, half a second flat” Wally offered.

“Thanks dude. Good job Artemis, they hate to be treated like a joke they are” halfa praised but out loud asking:

“Ghostbusters? No, they had different uniforms. But who else got a thing for ghosts?”

“Quit joking around, we caught you Phantom! You ran far from Amity Park but-”

“Who is Phantom?” Robin interrupted rudely (they deserved to be rude to them).

“Where is Amity Park, Utah? Cali?”  Conner asked, adding fuel to the fire of chaos with barely contained glee. He liked messing with anyone even slightly resembling Kadmus staff and these guys marked almost all of the boxes.

“Illinois” provided chubby man who looked and felt like he didn't want to be there almost as much as they teens did. Danny relaxed slightly.

“Agent W you have no clearance to share this information“

“You were in Illinois and didn't tell me, Tommy?” M’gann finally spoke, jokingly punching his arm.

“I wasn't, I swear! I've never set a foot outside of this state in my life!”

“Quit messing around, you freak!!!” the guy, with the biggest ego and probably the leader, screamed.

“Can I please mess their heads up?”  M’gann asked, pushing hope through Mindlink as hard as she could.

“Again, rude. What did I even do to deserve that?”

“Like you–”

“Operative K, I think they really don't know anything “ Agent W, the nicest out of the batch, interrupted “Maybe it left some ectoplasm on this boy to throw us off?”

“They called you it, Danny” Conner seethed, looking like only Kaldur’s hand on his shoulder was stopping him from punching all of them straight to the sun. M’gann was already reaching for their minds.

“We need to run a scan to be sure. Come here boy”

“Now, who are you?!” Robin got defensive, sliding to shield Danny from asiliants. Conner and Artemis joined him, so clearly furious that M’gann almost retreated from Mindlink. She wasn’t any calmer, it just felt overwhelming to be backed up by five other people.

“It’s classified”

Kaldur took a photo with an obnoxiously loud sound effect. Wally appeared right behind Danny, ready to evacuate him. Artemis barely kept herself from tackling the nearest ‘agent’ to the ground.

“What are you doing, boy?” Operative K splurted, absolutely flabbergasted.

“Calling the police”

“Why?”

“Robin, throw some laws, please”

“Oh, that’s easy,” the boy jumped in gleefully “You assaulted our friend and refused to state why you would have credentials to do so or even who are you. You carry modified weaponry openly in public and I doubt you have a permit, carelessly use it  against minors, endangering innocent bystanders while we’re at it. You disturb public peace. I think that’s enough to get you arrested. Wait you know what, call ‘Supervillain emergency hotline’ instead, this is serious attack”

“Right ahead of you, already calling them”

It wasn’t that big of a problem even if someone tried to qualify this as spam. Young Justice Team was first to respond to all threats in Happy Harbour anyway.

Danny let out a low ‘uuuu’ with a smirk. Someone powered up a gun. Wally slightly raised halfa of the ground, ready to bolt.

“It’s okay young man,” the nice agent started, raising his hands in a placating gesture “We’re searching for a dangerous supernatural entity and may have overreacted. In our defense, Phantom is known to be tricky and we wouldn’t be surprised if it used human disguise to hide from us. Your friend gives off the same type of energy like what we use to track it so we assumed they’re the same. We’re sorry”

“Agent W you don’t have clearance to disclose that to-”

“Operative K, after the last few incidents we have to be more throughout before jumping to assumptions. Agent Gamma wouldn’t be pleased if your temper caused the next scandal,” Agent W look at them again, with a forced ‘warm’ smile “We’re really sorry for bothering you. We have reasons to believe Phantom is somewhere around but don’t worry about it, we will be on the lookout. If you see it, please contact us and we will take care of it” M’gann grabbed the ‘WANTED’ poster from man’s outstretched hand. She barely restrained herself from doing something irresponsible, like turning every man in white into a brainless vegetable.

“Later M'gann”

“But Robin…” she whined before sending a small laugh so they knew she wasn’t serious. She knew that Conner and Danny were anxious about this use of her powers.

Agent’s left and everyone relaxed. Wally put Danny back down and leaned back, jokingly rolling back his arms as if he got tired. Halfa stopped with a loud thump to sit on the ground. He was paler than usual.

Artemis shouted, alarmed.

“That was way too close” he started, aiming for a cheerful tone but missing by a mile “I’m fine, just need a moment to cool down. Sorry for that, guys. I thought I lost them over Ohio”

“That’s fine, personally I don’t care, we knew better than to expect a whole day without something going wrong, but who were they?” Wally asked, already back to eating popcorn.

Danny sighed, so deeply M’gann felt it in her bones even though she didn’t try to read him.

“I think this is the talk we should have in the Mountain”

[huskersbooze]

Who's in Control?

Alastor x Reader

| Part 1(here!) | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Summary : You sold your soul to Alastor and had no idea how big of a deal this was. Until recently, you finally learn what it means, and realize all that Alastor had been doing was just a lie.. or was it?

Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader, Huskerdust? (M!Reader here, Gn!Reader here)

Warnings : swear words

Additional Tags : Angst, miscommunication, misunderstandings, Alastor actually being nice?!, no use of (Y/n)

Ib : Who's in Control By Set It Off

Word count : 1.8k

"Good morning, dear."

"Morning, Al." You reach the lobby and take a seat on the floor next to Alastor's chair.

"How was your sleep, darling?"

"It was good! And yours?"

"Aha, hilarious, really. You know I don't sleep, my dear." He places a hand on your head and gives your hair a ruffle. "You really do know how to brighten my day."

The rest of the team reaches the lobby, and you all gather around for your daily dose of trust exercises.

-----

You and Alastor had been growing closer and closer ever since your arrival at the hotel. There was no doubt that he was your favourite person there.

And, well, for Alastor, he never wanted to admit it, but everyone in the hotel could tell, and even he was aware.

He was growing a soft-spot for you.

It was never supposed to be this way. He was never meant to grow attached. It just somehow happened, and that was that.

Everything between you two was going great. Except for that one little issue that bothered Alastor.. but you didn’t have to know. He never tried to abuse any of that power when he asked for your soul. He never thought of doing anything to you.

But there comes a time in every relationship where a lie can ruin it all.

“Hey, sugar. How ya’ doin’?” Angel Dust leans by the bar counter, greeting you as usual.

“I'm doing decent. Husk and I were just talking about you.”

“We were fuckin’ not!” You watch as the cat's ears twitch, the drink he was originally pouring tipping over.

“Oh, really? No need ta’ lie Husky~” You laugh at Angel's teasing, which makes Husk let out a low growl. “At least I don't gawk over a certain demon so obviously.”

“Hey! Are you talking about me and Al?”

“Who else would he be talkin’ about?” Angel tilts his head to the side, giving you a knowing glare. “Ya’ can't even deny it.”

“Al and I are just friends.”

“Kid, Angel's right.” The cat can only do so much but sigh. “You don't know him as well as I do. He treats you differently.”

“Still, we're just friends-”

“The Radio Demon doesn't do ‘friends’, kid.”

“Yeah, well, he owns my soul. Of course he'd treat me differently.”

The way it so simply came out of your mouth like it wasn't some big deal. Both Husker and Angel Dust froze in place, staring at you wide-eyed.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“What.. what did you just say?” The spider can hardly comprehend the news you'd just dropped.

“He owns my soul..?”

“Kid. What the actual fuck?!”

“What the fuck did he do to you?! Ya’ alright?! Are you hurt?”

You watch as the two demons skim your body up and down, firing questions at you, checking up to make sure you weren't hurt.

But you were confused.

“What's going on? Why are you guys suddenly acting so strange?”

“Wh- Why did you sell ya’ soul to him?!”

“Fuck I knew he was up to no good!”

“He told me by selling my soul to him he'd protect me from everything and anything at all cost. I didn't see a reason to decline?” You reply to Angel's question, ignoring Husk as he mutters about himself being correct. “I got nothing to lose.”

“Ya’ got everything to lose, shitass.” You hear his voice start to crack slightly as you realise tears welling up in his eyes.

“Angel?! Hey, what's wrong?”

“Damn, kid. You really don't know shit, huh?”

“About..?”

“What it means to sell your soul.”

“I know what it means, Al said-”

“Forget that fucker.” Husk practically spits out his name. “D'you know why I work here at the bar?”

“Because you like your job..?”

“No. It’s because I was forced by the person I sold my soul to.”

“Who..?”

“Hell, kid.. you really can't take a hint?”

And just like that, he says one more name, and your whole world comes tumbling down on you.

He didn't actually care for you, he was just shaping you in case you came to use.

He didn't actually enjoy your company, he was just watching you to make sure you were obedient.

He didn't actually mean any of the things he said. He was just trying to manipulate you.

And you were so damn lost. So damn lost as to whether the control and power you thought you had, really belonged to you.

“Valentino is an overlord.. and he's your boss?”

“Yup.” Angel nods.

“And he owns your soul like Al owns Husk’s?”

“Exactly.” Husk replies.

“And there's no escaping this contract..?”

“No.” The two reply together.

“Fuck.”

-----

“Greetings, my dear! How are you on this fine morning?” The static sounds from Alastor's usual seat at the lobby where you all gather every morning.

There's that usual smile etched on his face, which, you used to believe looked genuine when he was talking to you, but it seemed that wasn't the case.

“Hey, Husk. Hey, Angel.” You greet the two on the couch, completely passing by Alastor and ignoring his whole existence. “Mind if I sit?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Angel scoots over and makes space for you to squeeze between Husk and himself. “Ya’ look like hell.”

“You alright, kid?”

“Couldn't sleep much last night, but I'm fine.” You reassure them.

The rest of the crew were a bit startled at your display, knowing well that you refused to not sit by Alastor's chair, normally.

And here you were, ignoring him completely like he was no longer relevant, and hanging with the other two demons.

“Okay.. what an interesting way to start the morning!” Charlie tries to break the ice.

Everyone turns their attention towards her.

Everyone but Alastor.

He was practically fuming with rage, anger, irritation, but yet, a tiny bit of worry.

How dare you ignore the Radio Demon like he was some piece of useless trash?

But then again.. why were you suddenly acting so cold and distant? What did he do wrong?

He couldn't help but focus his attention on you throughout the entire day, but you didn't even spare him a single glance.

Needless to say, you felt a knock on your door that night.

“Darling, how wonderful to see you! Wonderful, really. Mind if I come in?”

“A little. What do you need, Alastor?” You stand at the door frame, hand still on the door handle, prepared to slam the door in case anything happens.

Meanwhile, Alastor was pissed. You had never rejected inviting him in for late night chatting, in fact, you never rejected anything from him.

“It's nothing, really. I just hoped to have a friendly little chat with you, if that's alright?” Alastor leans down to your level, tilting his head and giving you his usual smile he reserved for you, and you only.

“A bit busy. Maybe next time.” You attempt to close the door, but a hand swoops in and, damn, was he strong.

“Dear, what seems to be the issue?”

“I’m really busy, Alastor.” You sigh. His ears twitch at the name. Where were all his sweet little nicknames? Why were you only referring to him by his full name?

“Clearly, something is wrong, and I ought to find out what I had done to deserve such treatment.” He states, making himself welcome in your room. “Talk to me, darling.”

“Oh enough with the pet names, I’m not your fucking pet.” You roll your eyes, closing the door behind you to make sure no one stumbles upon your little predicament.

Alastor stiffens, then laughs.

“Whatever are you talking about, dear? Of course you’re not my pet.”

“The damn contract says otherwise..” You watch as Alastor shifts uncomfortably, his back still facing you. “I should’ve known you just wanted another soul. Fuck you, Alastor.”

You continue on about how you never should’ve trusted him, and how you finally knew about everything so there was no point in him pretending to tolerate you.

Alastor, however, could barely process anything you were saying. He could hear his own static in his own head, and it was growing louder and louder.

What the fuck was happening? How did you know? What did he ever do? Where did he go wrong..?

“Darling, please.. You don’t understand-” The radio filter in his voice was off, his actual voice coming out as a soft plea.

Taken aback, you stopped talking. Alastor turned to face you, smile still etched high and proud, but his eyes looked like he was about to break.

“Alastor..” You murmur. “I just don’t think I can trust you anymore. I’m sorry.”

“When have I ever used any of that power on you?!” Alastor snaps, eyes darting all over the place, trying to find out what to do to fix all this. “I’ve been nothing but nice! I.. I helped you when you were in trouble! I did nothing to hurt you..”

You watch as Alastor starts losing his usual composure, having it slowly drifting away.. It was heartbreaking seeing him like this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him and pretend nothing happened.

“It doesn’t matter when you’re in control..”

“No.. darling, no! You’re in control!” He scrambles, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“Really? I’m not sure I trust any of that bullshit anymore.”

“Dear, please, listen to me..!”

“I'm sorry, Al.. I think it's best if you leave.”

He pauses.

“Have a good sleep, dear.” He says, voice filter completely off. It was a rare occasion getting to hear his sweet voice. Too bad it had to be under such circumstances.

-----

“Oh my, Alastor, what's got your ears pinned back?” Rosie leads her friend through the halls and has him take a seat opposite of her. “Is everything alright?”

“No.. no it's not.” He replies. “She found out.”

“About the deal?”

“No, Rosie. No.” He sighs. “She found out what selling her soul to me actually permits me.”

“But you never wanted to abuse that power, did you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then, I'm assuming you didn't tell her?”

“No.”

“Well, why not?”

“Would it make a difference?" She could practically hear him scoff. "She's irritated at me as is. It's not like she'd even heed my words."

“Come, now, Alastor. You know as well as I that the sweetheart would listen.” Rosie tuts, waving a hand at him.

“She doesn't need to know how powerful she actually is.. she doesn't need to know her soul is being gambled this very second.”

Alastor sighs, getting up from his chair.

“Thank you for your kind words, Rosie. I shall take my leave now.”

“Take care, Alastor.” She smiles. “I'm sure she'll understand.”

“I surely hope you're correct."

———/ TBC. /———

READ PART 2 HERE

[coldfanbou]

Driving Her Crazy

A small road trip with Yubin and a little spicy time in the car because of her.

length 2K

Yubin X Mreader

It was 4 pm. If all went well, you’d be at your destination for the perfect view. You shut the car door and start the engine, listening to it roar. You look over at Yubin. “Ready?” 

“Ready,” she responds,  a toothy grin on her face.

“Alright, get comfortable. We’ll be driving for 12 hours and won’t make many stops.” you remind her before leaving your home and beginning your road trip. Yubin was excited about traveling with you around the northwestern part of the US. She was more than excited after you told her of the sight there. The first part of your plan was to get to your mountain resort so you could show Yubin how to snowboard. The first hour went by fast, and you both quickly grew tired of the drive, especially when you started thinking about how much longer you had. 

“You know, when you said 12 hours, I thought it wouldn’t feel like too long…I was wrong.” Yubin says as she stares out the window. 

“I told you it was going to be a long time, and unfortunately, there’s nothing of interest around here.”  

Yubin turns to you, her hands clinging to your arm. “Isn’t there something for us to do? I don’t think I’ll be able to last the entire ride in here doing nothing.” 

“I mean, you could take the wheel for a while if you want to.”

Yubin’s eyes sparkle with excitement. “Really? Can I?” she asks eagerly. You nod, and she quickly takes over the wheel. She adjusts the seat, inching it forward and raising it so she can see over the dashboard. “Let’s do this!” She exclaims, pressing the gas and causing the car to lurch forward. She looks at you with a sheepish grin. “Oops?” she chuckles. You can't help but roll your eyes and shake your head at her. 

Yubin purses her lips and lightly presses on the gas, slowly building up to the speed limit and driving along while you take your break. Yubin enjoys taking charge and following the directions you give her. Being in control of the drive there gives her a sense of purpose, but after about two hours, she tires of having to be focused. “I don’t  think I want to drive anymore.”

You chuckle, “But you said you wanted to drive earlier.”

“I take it back. Can you drive?” 

“Alright, let's pull over at the next exit. We’ll grab some snacks, and we can switch places.” Yubin accelerates, eager to switch roles as soon as possible. 

Stopping at a gas station, Yubin heads inside to get snacks for the rest of your drive while you fill-up the car. She finishes her shopping trip first, sneaking herself into the back seats and bringing them down to make an improvised bed. As she’s about to climb in, you tug at the straps of her shirt, “Not happening, get in the front.” Yubin pouts and gets in the front seat, huffing as she shuts the door.

Once you're done, you climb into the driver's seat and drive off, driving through heavily wooded areas as you contrive. The evening sky becomes dark as the thick canopy lets little light break through. Yubin spends time on her phone, switching between apps as she finds something to do. A sudden moan makes you jump, and you look over at Yubin; she has the face of someone caught watching something they shouldn’t be. “Really? Right now?”

“I have nothing to watch. I didn’t download any of my shows!” She shouts, 

“There are so many other things you can watch,” you shout back, trying to hold in your laughter. 

Yubin briefly quiets before whispering, “We haven’t done it all day.” 

“Is that what this is about?”

“Yes, you know I need to do it at least once.” 

You ruffle your hair. “We can’t really do it right now. I’m driving, and we have a schedule to stick to.” 

“At least let me have a taste; you can still drive while I do it.” You groan, knowing that Yubin would probably keep asking through the entire drive if you disagreed now.

“Alright, fine.” Yubin claps her hands before leaning over the center console. She unbuttons your jeans and pulls out your cock, licking her lips as she strokes it slowly.

“Come to mommy.” She whispers before kissing the tip, feeling it twitch against her lips. She smirks before moving down your shaft and planting soft kisses along it. You groan while trying to stay focused on driving. Luckily, no cars were around, so you had more room for errors. You looked down, watching Yubin’s head bob up and down as she used her tongue along the tip.

You felt her slowly building up to more, taking in more of your cock. You groan loudly as your cock hits the back of her throat. Yubin holds herself against your crotch, her tongue moving from side to side. You place one hand on Yubin’s head and push her down further, moaning her name as you feel her tighten her throat around your cock. “Shit,” you grunt, struggling to keep from cumming this instant. Yubin pulls away, smiling as she strokes your shaft.

“Cum for me; I want to taste it,” she whispers into your ear before dragging her tongue along it. Yubin kisses your cheek before swallowing your cock again, her lips forming a tight seal around your shaft as her tongue swirls around the head. You groan, your hips bucking instinctively as you try to keep control of the car. You feel Yubin hold you down as she continues to bob her head, hungry for something to eat. 

You roar as you cum inside her mouth. Yubin runs her hand along the base of your shaft, stroking you quickly in hopes of getting as much cum from you as possible. Her mouth quickly fills with your cum. She moans, enjoying the taste as it hits her tongue and swallowing as much as possible. Her cheeks hollow out as she sucks you dry, ensuring not a single drop escapes. She pulls back, licking her lips and smiling. “Ah! That was great,” She says, stretching her arms and leaning back in her seat. She glances at your lip cock, her eyes wandering up slowly until she reaches your face. “You know, I ought to thank you for driving the rest of the night. I have just the reward. You can use me anytime you want, anytime.” Yubin repeats. “I wouldn’t mind waking up with you inside me,” she says with a smirk as she adjusts herself in her seat. “Whatever you decide, I won’t mind,” Yubin shuts her eyes and smiles to herself as you continue driving. You pay her no mind continuing onward. 

Yubin falls asleep some hours later. You glance in her direction whenever she rolls from one side to the other. During one of her rolls, you notice that one of her straps has rolled down her shoulder, giving you a view of her cleavage. It makes your cock stir as you imagine her tits. The next time she rolls over, Yubin turns away from you, and you see her shorts have ridden up, showing off her plump ass. You’re hard and struggle to keep your eyes away from Yubin’s body. Her words ring in your mind now, “I wouldn’t mind waking up with you inside me.” It gnaws at you for a while before you decide to pull over, hiding yourself on the roadside. You move to Yubin’s side of the car and take her into the back, where she had made the backseats a bed. You place Yubin on her stomach and pull down her shorts. You stare at Yubin’s thong, debating whether you should continue before deciding that you should. You pull it down slowly, leaving them around her thighs. You stare at Yubin’s ass running your hands along it and squeezing it softly. You notice her wet cunt and move toward it, lifting her hips and moving your arm around her waist. You rub her cunt slowly, moving your fingers around her clit. You hear her breathing get heavier, and as you continue, you hear Yubin softly moan your name as she sleeps. You slip a finger inside her, feeling her warm walls squeeze your fingers as you stretch her out. Yubin’s breathing turns into soft moans as you toy with her. 

You can’t hold back any longer, though; you replace your finger with the real thing, pushing your cock inside Yubin slowly until you buried inside her. Yubin’s moans continue as you begin thrusting. You move slowly, trying not to wake Yubin. Your grip her waist gently and push your length inside her slippery cunt. You moan Yubin’s name as you move inside her. Her sleeping form turns you on more as she takes your cock easily. 

You feel her tighten around you, though, and it drives you mad. You try to keep your slow pace, but can’t you begin thrusting harder and faster, ramming your cock deep into Yubin’s cunt. Yubin begins to stir slowly, moans still flowing from her lips as she begins to realize what’s happening; a smile forms on her lips as she feels your cock knock against her womb. “Thanks for the wake-up, big boy.” She says, placing her hand over her stomach and feeling your cock move around inside her. The thought of you using her while she slept pushes Yubin to the edge, and after a few more thrusts, she cums on your cock, moaning loudly as her walls tighten around you.

You groan, feeling your climax approach. Flipping Yubin onto her back, you start thrusting into her again, wanting to watch her face as you cum inside her. You thrust wildly, Yubin’s cunt squeezing you as you flood her body with pleasure. Her moans become louder, and she wraps her legs and arms around you, forcing you deeper into her cunt. As you near your orgasm, Yubin’s walls begin to tighten around you again, and she screams, “I’m cumming!” her body begins to convulse as you bury yourself inside of her and flood her pussy with your cum. Yubin lets out a silent moan as her head tilts back; her body shakes as she feels your hot semen pour into her. Minutes pass as you remain buried inside her. You kiss Yubin softly, caressing her hair as you both cool off. You pull out of Yubin slowly, reach toward the front seats, grab a water bottle, and hand it to her. She sips the water as she remains lying on her back. “That felt great; my body is still tingling.”

“Yeah, it was really good,” you say, breathing heavily. You lean over and kiss Yubin's forehead, smiling at her. “Let’s rest for a few more minutes before we get going again. We need to get to our hotel on time. Yubin nods, and the two of you stay in the back for ten minutes before getting dressed.

You get back on the road and continue your drive. Yubin stays awake, keeping you company and chatting with you. There was about one more hour of driving left when she reached over and tried to fish your cock out of your pants. “Hey, not now.” You try to tell her, but Yubin argues back, eventually getting you to pull over. “It’s not safe, and we’ve already done enough.”

“You weren’t complaining when I was giving you a blowjob yesterday,” she retorts as she climbs over to your side, moving the seat back. She grabs your cock and slips it inside her cunt, moaning softly. “There we go,” she coos. “I want to get you ready for the hotel because I want you to fuck me silly when we get there.” 

“Ugh, fine,” you agree reluctantly. Yubin smiles and presses her ass against you, grinding on you as you drive the remaining hour. Each little bump on the road caused her to bounce on your cock, making her more hungry for what was to come at your hotel.