#will actually get back to doing requests SOON

[goobstars]

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐘

summary : when ragatha's suggestion of a softball game comes into play, you find yourself befriending a player on the opposing team—evil jax—without the knowledge that your jax was watching from afar.

tags : romance, reader & jax are dating, no maid outfit jax just to spite you all, jealousy, censored profanity, and violence.

note : this was a request from mistycomma, so i hope you enjoy, and thank you for the request!

you found it funny.

everyone was up against evil versions of themselves—minus you and gangle, for some reason. though, you weren't really complaining.

as the field was getting set up—the evil versions taking their places—you couldn't help but just find the whole thing amusing. evil ragatha just laughed a whole lot while talking in an odd accent, evil pomni seemed more relaxed while cursing every now and then, evil kinger—or coach dictatorer—did nothing but shout, and you didn't even know what was going on with bazooble.

yet, the one you found most hilarious of all? evil jax.

could you even call him evil? the boy seemed incredibly shy and antsy, and he always had one hand gripping his arm while he looked around.

you leaned against the bench—sitting beside jax as you continued to examine the evil versions of everybody.

kinger was giving a quick peptalk to everyone, and while it made no sense, you could tell he was just trying to hype everyone up. you nodded at his words before you heard someone clear their throat.

you peered up from kinger and noticed evil jax was standing at the bars of the dugout.

"h-hey, guys. i-i hope we all have a fun game, no matter who ends up winning."

you gifted evil jax a smile, "good luck out there." the boy gave you a nervous smile back before walking away, and you looked up at jax once you noticed his quietness.

jax's eyes darted towards you, then back at evil jax before his eyes narrowed in disgust. "i wanna kill that guy."

"why? he's sweet!" your words only made jax mumbled incoherent things as kinger called ragatha to the field, and you smiled at her once she waved at you before going onto the field.

jax only wrapped an arm around your shoulder, and he shot a scowl at evil jax once he noted the boy gifting you glances.

he leaned in closer as your eyes remained on ragatha while she batted, and he slightly nudged your head with his own.

when you didn't respond, he nuzzled into your shoulder. it got a slight reaction out of you as you leaned your head onto his, but he wanted more of a reaction. he wanted you to pay attention to him and not the game that had that stupid evil jax in it.

you continued to watch the game as you witnessed ragatha hit the ball right into pomni's glove, but before you could make a comment about the loss, you felt jax nip your neck.

"what are you doing?"

your question got no reply as he only pushed his head more into your shoulder, and you didn't know what to do. you didn't know why he was acting like this, and you certainly didn't know what to do about it.

"[name], you're up next!"

you pulled away from jax as soon as kinger announced that you were up, and you watched him slightly frown at your actions. yet, you didn't have time to acknowledge them as you were handed a bat and sent out to the field—rubbing your neck with your free hand.

jax stood up from the bench as he walked over to the bars, and he gripped them as he watched you play.

you were a bit far from where he was, so he couldn't hear you much, but all he knew was that you were talking to evil jax. the boy would say something and you would laugh—which resulted in you missing the hit. why were you joking with him? he was on the opposing team, and there was no way he was that funny to where you would miss the ball.

jax watched as you swung again, and when you missed, he swore he heard evil jax say that you were doing good. why was he being so nice? why couldn't he just shut up and leave you alone?

when it was your final swing, you actually managed to focus this time, but you still missed.

despite the fact you didn't get a single hit, evil jax clapped and cheered you on, and only irritated jax more.

since you had struck out, you walked over to the other side of the dugout, and evil jax followed you.

why was he following you?

jax gripped the bars of the dugout as he scowled at evil jax, and he watched as the boy leaned over the bars to talk to you.

and you were happily talking back.

why were you talking to that guy when jax wasn't that far from you? why did you walk over to the other side of the dugout? did you want to talk to that guy?

"why do you look so bothered?" the sound of zooble's voice made jax roll his eyes as he continued to watch you talk to evil jax, and zooble seemed to catch onto his gaze as they watched as well. "evil jax is a whole lot nicer than you, huh?"

"no, he's just a coward who doesn't know when to mind his own buisness." jax's words were sharp, and zooble let out an airy scoff before crossing their arms. "you know, you weren't acting like this until he started talking to [name]..."

"so what?" jax snapped back, but when he let go of the bar and turned to face zooble, he was met with the sight of them leaning forward on the bench with an eyebrow raised.

"are you jealous?" zooble's words were filled with taunt, and jax's face only flushed as he glared at them. "I AM NOT JEALOUS!"

his pupils were scrambled while he stared at evil jax, and zooble hummed. "i don't think i've ever seen you this bothered before..."

jax only ignored their words once kinger announced that it was his turn to bat, and he harshly grabbed the bat out of kinger's hands as he made his way onto the field.

he noted the way you waved at evil jax before the boy walked back to his spot on the field, and for some reason, that only bothered jax even more. why was he so bothered by this? it's not like you were interested in that guy.

right?

his hands gripped the bat tighter as he took his stance, and he narrowed his eyes at bazooble. "let's see what you're made of!"

bazooble's words made jax's eye twitch, "SHUT UP!"

"i-it's okay! i think you'll do great!"

the sound of evil jax's voice made jax's head snap towards the boy, "I WANT YOU DEAD!"

his gaze flickered towards you, and he noticed how your eyes were wide from his words.

"strike one!"

jax narrowed his eyes before he realized bazooble had thrown the ball, and he frowned. "COME ON, JAX!"

kinger's shout only made him roll his eyes before he slightly lifted the bat, and he lazily swung the bat.

oddly enough, he hit the ball, but it didn't go in front of him. instead, it went behind him, and a large centipede in the crowd caught it.

which it then ate the ball.

"huh, i guess there's no more ball—we're done."

as jax trudged back to the dugout despite kinger's worried shouts for him to go back, but jax just handed the bat to zooble before walking over to you.

you could hear him grumble a few things underneath his breath before he plopped down beside you, "are you okay?"

"i'm fine." jax snapped at you, and you only blinked at him a few times before standing up from the bench. his ears slightly moved down as he straightened up his back, "where are you going?"

"you seem annoyed, so i'm going to give you some space and go talk to evil jax for a minute while they try to find a ball—"

you felt his hand grasp your wrist before pulling you back down on the bench, and he wrapped his arms around your waist. "no."

"why not?"

"because he's annoying and i'm gonna kill him."

"jax, it'll only be for a second—"

thump.

your words were cut off as jax tensed up, and he pushed you away while you eyed his leg. "did—did you just thump at me?"

he looked away from you, and you felt a smile cross your lips once you took everything into consideration.

the nudging, nipping, and thumping gave it all away.

"you're jealous." you teased him while his face heavily flushed, and his eyes flickered towards you in a glare. "i am not."

you only raised your eyebrows at his words, and you slightly scooted away before hearing that noise again.

thump.

his glare only harshened as you let out a laugh, yet your laughter was cut off once he wrapped an arm around your waist before he hid his face in your shoulder. "shut up."

you let out a quiet sigh before placing a kiss against his cheek, and you felt him relax against you.

you watched as ragatha went up to bat again, which confused you, but you didn't even know if you could call it her 'batting' due to the fact bazooble was laying on the ground for some reason.

"ANOTHER HOME RUN!" caine announced, "THAT CONCLUDES THE GAME!"

ragatha looked at caine in confusion, and his words honestly made you even more perplexed too.

yet, when jax shifted his head against your shoulder, your confusion vanished.

the opposing team griped about how they lost while evil ragatha quite literally melted upon losing, but while they were doing that, you felt jax lift his head from your neck with dialated pupils.

"i'm not a vegan anymore."

you watched as jax hastily shot up from the bench before dashing back onto the field, and you were confused as to what he was doing before you noticed him heading straight towards evil jax.

the boy waved at jax before his face was filled with fear, and you heard screams erupt from him once jax bit him and started shaking him around.

you only leaned your elbows against your knees as you placed your face in your hands, and a quiet sigh left your throat while you watched the scene.

as odd as jax was, you loved that boy.

and it made you happy knowing that he loved you back.

[strnilolover]

Special birthday request hehe

Ride or Die Matt - reader ignores Matt after he hasn't fucked her in a while and gets bratty whenever he speaks to her. Matt sees her sexual frustration and draws it out a lil until she begs for it. The actual smut is yours to create and imagine. LOVE YOUUU

⌗ . . . A GOOD FUCK

WARNINGS : DOM!MATT. MEAN!MATT. BRATTY!READER. SMUT. PNV. DEGRADING. TEASING. SEXUAL FRUSTRATION!

for my lovely kay!! @endereies happy happy birthday!! <3

you knew matt wasn’t intentionally meaning to ignore you—you knew he had a big race coming up in a week and he just wanted to make sure everything was perfect and ready for himself to win.

but it was getting to you.

sitting in the hot garage day after day just to watch him work on his car with chris—his attention barely on you day after day. you were growing frustrated—needy—the tension in your body so tight you felt like you were going to burst.

and really today was no different than the last few. you were in the garage again—sitting on the empty tool bench in the far corner with your legs crossed. you were doing everything in your power not to look at him. you wanted to be mad at him—you were mad at him. but it was like your body just didn’t care what your mind thought.

matt was bent over the open engine bay of his race car, sweat dripping down the back of his neck and his hands buried deep inside the guts of the machine. chris was next to him, his sleeves rolled up with grease on his jaw, and tossing tools between his fingers while reading torque specs off his phone.

“she’s still knocking on the left side. probably a valve lash issue.” chris muttered, reaching for a socket wrench. “did you tighten these already?” you overheard him ask and matt grunted, reaching back and pulling a rag from his back pocket to wipe his hands. he nodded, sighing. “twice. and she’s still not settling.”

“You think it’s the camshaft?” chris asked, trying to help matt figure out what could be wrong with the car. he hummed. “could be.” matt replied before he stood straight for a moment, cracked his neck, and swiped sweat from his brow. his half-zipped suit hung low on his hips, exposing the white tank under it, stained with grease from the car and whatever else.

you didn’t even blink. chris noticed your behavior—and you were sure matt did too—and shot you a quick look, raising a brow at the way you sat there all stiff and silent, but didn’t say anything. he knew better.

matt had already tried to make conversation with you three times already today.

“did y’see the new tires?”

no reply.

“you wanna help baby? or just pout all day?”

still nothing.

“you’re not mad at me right?”

you were. but you smiled sweetly at your phone like he didn’t even exist. and matt scoffed low under his breath and leaned against the hood while chris ducked back under it. he was watching you and that made you twitch, but didn’t look up. he definitely noticed.

chris glanced up from under the hood of the car with a smirk like he was used to tuning you both out when you got like this. he himself could feel the tension between you two now beginning to grow rapidly. “i’m gonna..go grab the plugs.” he muttered, suddenly disappearing toward the supply shelf in the back.

as soon as he was gone, matt tilted his head at you and smirked like he was going to say something, but instead he gave you one last knowing look before he turned back to the car with that same smug little shake of his head.

matt definitely knew. it was like he could read you like an open book even if you didn’t want to be read. you were needy—throbbing and pent up. and you hated that he knew. hated how cocky he was about it. like he could feel it on you.

you could feel how flushed your face was, how hot you were just from him staring at you. it had been days since he’d touched you—fucked you. and it felt as if every little thing he did just served to rile you up more. you just turned yourself away from them once chris returned, keeping silent.

you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. not another glance or sound. you crossed your arms over your chest, your lips tight as you just stared away from them. your phone was still in your lap, but you’d scrolled past the same tiktok five times. you couldn’t focus.

you hadn’t realized that matt started to watch you again until he spoke—too wrapped up into your own head and trying to be mad at him. “baby.” matt called again, from across the garage after chris walked off again—this time taking his sweet time at the far end of the room. “you’re not even gonna look at me?”

you didn’t. you were barely breathing at this point.

there was a long pause—nothing but the sound of chris messing around somewhere in the back room could be heard. but the the sound of his boots coming toward you echoed through the garage.

you didn’t bother to move. but your stomach dropped and your cunt clenched—it didn’t take long before your eyes flicked up in spite of yourself just as he reached the tool bench you were sitting on. his frame was towering over you, arms crossed as he looked down at you.

“you’re actin’ like a fuckin’ brat.” he muttered, voice low enough to be for you only. “and honestly, it’s cute.” and you just blinked, like you didn’t hear him, but your nails dug into your arms. “don’t give me that.” he said with a chuckle, dropping his voice lower as he leaned in closer. his hands came to rest on the side of the bench, right by your thigh. “you’ve been sittin’ there all day with that little attitude. like i don’t know exactly why you’re so quiet.”

you still didn’t say anything—but it was becoming increasingly hard to stay quiet. to not just give in right now and drop your whole bratty act. you knew what you were doing—you did this every time you wanted his attention. he was so close. too close.

“poor baby.” he said, the mock sympathy dripping from his words as he cocked his head. “so neglected. must be real hard not getting my cock for a few days, huh?” and you clenched your jaw, exhaling slowly. your thighs pressing together. of course he knew—but you weren’t expecting him to say it out loud. not here at least.

“bet you been touchin’ yourself when I’m not around. whining into your pillow.” he sneered, his fingers barely brushing the top of your knee as his hand moved slowly. “but it’s not the same, is it?” and that’s what got you to finally look at him. finally. and he grinned.

“m’not a brat.” you mumbled, crossing your legs the other way, trying to move away so he wouldn’t make your walls crumple anymore than they already were. “oh, sweetheart.” he said, now dragging his thumb across your thigh. “you’re the fuckin’ definition of one.” he leaned down now, his lips right against your ear. “but i love when you act like this. makes it more fun to break you down later.” and then he pulled away, giving your thigh a light squeeze then and tap before turning away to go back to his car.

your heart was racing now, and you swallowed—your stomach already twisting and turning—mind running with so many thoughts of what he just might do.

-

the next day was worse. you were so much more worse.

you didn’t even say hi when you walked into the garage—and honestly you weren’t even sure why you kept coming back in here when you knew you didn’t have to. but you just strutted in anyways in a pair of tight little shorts and a cropped tee.

you made it a point not to look at matt when he glanced up, watching the way you climbed up onto that same tool bench and crossed your legs. but your whole body was stiff—because you could feel the way he looked at you.

chris was underneath the car, his legs sticking out like some cartoon, which honestly made you crack a small smile. but you wiped it away quickly as you started to peel open a popsicle you had brought with you and stuck it between your lips without a word.

matt shook his head and chuckled under his breath—he knew what you were doing. and you knew that he knew. it was on purpose, what you were doing. every little slurp you made on the red popsicle was for him. even the eye-roll you did every time you moved your head down was meant to test him. to tease him—just to see how far he’d let this go.

but he just kept working, even if you were staring to become distracting. his eyes flicking over to you every few minutes, watching the way some of the juice from the popsicle was dripping down the sides of your mouth. and how your nipples were poking through that shirt of yours. of course you weren’t wearing a fucking bra—matt didn’t like the thought of chris’ eyes landing on you and seeing it.

you sat there for a while, not watching the boys, just scrolling on your phone and eating your popsicle until it was finished. but at some point chris had left to “take a call.” he knew how you guys got, and really he wish he didn’t, but he was around be too often to where he started picking up on little details. and so he shoot a knowing glance between you both before heading out. the door swung shut behind him.

and that’s when the air seemed to change. it became more tense—so thick you could probably cut it with a knife. you and matt were both on edge, but it wasn’t going to be him who was going to snap first.

you didn’t hear mat move right away, just the sound of tools being set down gently in the tool boxes where they went before the sound of a rag was heard. and then his shadow was being casted over your legs. he didn’t give you time to react before he was already speaking to you.

“i should bend you over that hood.” he murmured, not even giving you the satisfaction of looking directly at you, instead he was looking else where. his hand rested on the edge of the bench beside you, fingers slowly curling just like they had yesterday.

he startled you to say the least but all you did was blink slowly before your lips parted, taking little breaths in and out. your heart hammering.

when he finally looked at you, he moved to step between your knees. “don’t look so shocked sweetheart. done nothin’ but try to provoke me today.” and you couldn’t stop the next words from slipping past your lips. “fuck you.” you mumbled, though it came out breathy.

he hummed, his hands moving slow—up your thighs, spreading them apart just a little as he leaned it towards you. “i like this version of you. all pouty. all worked up.” your breath hitched as his fingers ghosted over your core—so close you could feel the heat radiating off his knuckles.

but he didn’t touch you. not in the way you wanted him to—and that make your head spin, your walls crumbling down in an instant. “please.” you whispered without thinking and matt tilted his head, smirking to himself. he had you exactly where he wanted you. “please?” he echoed mockingly. “that’s it?”

he tsked, leaning in so close to you that his lips brushed your ear, just like they had done yesterday. and you could feel the way your breath caught in your throat. “nah, baby. you’re not gettin’ my cock until you’re begging for it. i wanna hear how bad it hurts not having your pussy stuffed after a few days.”

you whined, your hips shifting forward. he hadn’t even done anything to you yet—but yet here you were—your body already on fire and your mind already beginning to turn to mush just from how he was talking to you. “it hurts,” you whispered. “been hurting all week.” your words were breathless, almost inaudible as you spoke.

matt shifted just slightly, moving his palm to suddenly press flat against your cunt over your shorts—your legs parted more for him as you gasped at the contact. it was such a small move, but fuck did it feel amazing.

“oh, I fuckin’ bet.” he growled, his fingers now moving to rubbing slow, firm circles over your clothed clit. he was focused on the fact that chris could come back into the garage and see you both like this—no—he was focused on making you pay for how you had been acting towards him. “this little pussy’s been neglected, huh? bet she’s been so fuckin’ soaked for me, isn’t she?”

you nodded so fast you thought you’d get whiplash, your breath catching. he was always so hot when he spoke to you like this. it was exactly what you needed—and you were so so close to getting what you wanted, it was like you could taste it. “mhm—yes. fuck, matt please.” you begged just slightly, but it obviously wasn’t enough. because just as your hips started to grin against his fingers, he pulled back and just stepped away.

just like that.

and you stared at him with your lips parted in disbelief. he touched you and then backed off—why would he just do that?

“mm-mm. that’s not what i asked for.” he said, reaching out and wiping his hands with a clean rag, turning back toward the car with a smirk. “i said to beg. not whimper. makes you sound desperate baby.”

you were seething. your eyes turning to slits as your voice started before your brain could catch up. “matt!” you slid off the bench, storming over to where he way by his car, your voice beginning to raise. “you’re such a—” and before you could get the rest of the words out, matt was spinning quick to pin you back against the edge of the car with a hand against your stomach. “careful. sat the wrong thing and i’ll edge you on my tongue for an hour just to send you home without my cock.”

your eyes widened—welling just slightly as your whole body began to throb even more. it wasn’t fair how he was acting—he would’ve just given into you by now. you felt as if you’d cry right here and now with how much you needed him.

“now be a good girl,” he whispered, one hand coming out to grab at your hip as the one on your stomach began sliding down and into your shorts. his fingers dancing along the outside of your panties, tracing faint lines over your pussy. “and tell me what you want.” you were warm—everywhere—the wet patch on your panties growing by the second, sticking to you.

“want your cock,” you gasped, the words being mumbled, your pride crumbling. your body basically shrinking in front of him. “please—want it so bad—been aching for days.”

“yeah? what, you want it—here?” his fingers moved and pressed hard over your clit. you nodded desperately, lips parting as your eyes fluttered shut for just a moment. “c’mon baby, say it. tell me what filthy little thoughts have been swimming around in that pretty head of yours.” your hips twitched at his words, eyes fluttering back open.

“I want you to bend me over and fuck me like i’m nothing.” your voice cracked just slightly—you felt so embarrassed. “want you to use me. make me cum so hard i forget how long i waited.” matt groaned out a noise of approval before he leaned down, his mouth connecting to yours in a heated kiss.

his hand moved out of your shorts, coming up to land on your other hip as his lips broke away from your own, quickly spinning you around—pressing you against his car. the hood was down now, and you hadn’t even realized it was. almost like he planned for it to end like this.

he pressed a hand up between your shoulder blades, a quiet signal for you to go down. and you listened—bending yourself forward and arching the best you could, letting your legs spread more for him.

you let yourself lay flat, your cheek pressed to the metal of the hood. matts hands grabbed at the waist band of your shorts and yanked them down to your knees—your panties now on full display for him, absolutely soaked through. “look at you, soaked through your fuckin’ panties,” he muttered. “how pathetic is that?”

you turned your head slightly to look over one of your shoulders the best you could—catching a small glimpse of him before you let your head fall back down. “please.” you whined, pushing your hips back against him. you could feel how hard he was already, his cock straining against the material of his pants.

he thought about teasing you more—letting you grind yourself back into him like a needy girl—but he decided not to waste anymore time. after all, he was getting impatient himself.

so he just reached down and slid your panties to the side, his other hand coming down and undoing his pants, pulling his cock out as quickly as he could. he pulled back slightly so he could spit down onto his hand, reaching down to fist himself until he was slick enough. the loss of contact made you whimper, your desperation growing more by the second.

he chuckled when he noticed, tsking before grabbing your hip and lining himself up. “so fuckin’ impatient baby. you want it so bad? then fucking take it.” and with that his hips pushed forward rather rough, his cock burying itself so deep inside you, it nearly knocked the wind out of you.

you moaned loud—the sound almost between a cry and a scream—but he reached around and clamped a hand over your mouth rather quickly, shutting you up as his hips snapped forward. “shh, baby. y’gotta keep it down. wouldn’t want chris hearing what a needy little whore you are, hm?”

you shook your head, small “no’s” slipping past your lips as your nails scraped against the hood of his car. he started fucking you rough and deep, one of his hands tangling itself in your hair as the other stayed over your mouth.

“five days without my cock and look at you,” he hissed. “takin’ it like you’re starved for it. you are, aren’t you? so upset that my attention hasn’t been on you, you greedy girl.” your moans we’re muffled against his hand, drool pooling in the palm of it as he tried to keep you quiet.

“say it.” he growled, the hand in your hair yanking your head back and away from his hand that covered your mouth. your moans echoing through the garage now as his cock kisses that sweet spot inside you over and over again. the drool now trailing down the sides of your mouth, pool against your shirt.

“I—i was upset!” you gasped, a hand reaching back to grab at him every time he rammed inside you. your scalp starting to burn slightly from the grip he had on your hair. “just—just wanted your attention matt—missed it—please!” he cursed under his breath, his own eyes rolling back from how good you were behaving now. “there’s my good girl.” he murmured. “all that attitude just cause you needed what? a good fuck?, hm?.”

you nodded, the words dying on your tongue as he fucked you faster. the car under you was shaking and neither of you cared if chris heard you—both of you were just focused on the moment and how good you both felt.

every part of you felt on fire—from the heat or from matt you weren’t sure. but your stomach was becoming tighter, your orgasm building. you were crying by now, you were sure of it—your eyes all watery and nose sniffling as matt’s hips didn’t stop. he could feel the way you clenched around him, drawing him in every time he pulled out—it was like you were milking him.

“c’mon sweetheart, i can feel you clenching around me. you gonna cum already? missed my cock so much that you can’t even last?” your body shuttered at his words. he was mocking you—and you tried to deny it, tried to lift your head to say no but it was no use. he wasn’t lying.

the hand tangled in your hair pushed your face back down to the hood of the car, sliding down to grab at the back of your neck. holding you there. “cum on my cock baby. show me how bad you missed me.” hips get kicked your legs wider as he thrusted forward, the new angle making your eyes rolling back as you clenched around him again.

“ah—ah—oh fuck!” your body shook and tensed, walls fluttering around matt’s cock as you let go. you came with a loud cry, your juices beginning to rush out and down his cock. soaking the back of your thighs and the front of his pants. your legs almost threatened to give out on you, but matt just held you up as he fucked you through your high. his own not too far behind.

it wasn’t long before you body started to become over sensitive, twitching slightly in his hold as you started to babble. “matt—fuckfuckfuck—ohmygod—“ his hand on your neck decided to move again, this time trailing down your body and pressing to your clit, rubbing it quickly as his thrusts started to become sloppy.

“y’gonna cum again baby. c’mon, want you to cum again—you can do it f’me.” he groaned, his body leaning forward to press his chest flush to your back, his teeth sinking into the flesh of your shoulder as his hips stuttered. he stilled moments later, his balls drawing tight as he spilled himself inside you. thick ropes of cum painted your walls, some even leaking around the sides of him as he tried to bury himself deeper into your cunt.

the feeling of it triggered your second orgasm—your cunt clenching down around him once again as you came. your vision blurred for just a moment as small gasps slipped out of you. matt continued to empty himself inside you, making sure to fill you to the brim before his body relaxed on top of yours basically.

“this what you wanted, huh?” he muttered, turning his head two press a kiss where his teeth bit into your flesh. light purple marks already blossoming around the bite. and you nodded, your body half-limp and your mind absolutely gone. your breath catching.

“good.” he whispered—his arms moving to peel himself off of you gently. he was being gentle now. this was your favorite part after it all—how gentle he is with you, knowing he pushed your limits just a little. “stay right here for a sec while i get stuff to clean us up baby.”

you whined as he started to pull away—not wanting him to go. you just wanted him close now. “matttt.” but he just shushed you as his hips pulled back, his cock slipping from your now spent and full cunt. he watched as a mixture of his cum and yours leaked out of you, giving just a small smirk before he wandered off to get some clean rags.

matt had managed to get you both cleaned up in time and dressed before chris came back inside. matt had been situating you on his lap, your head snuggled into his neck, before chris came back into the building. you yourself were already starting to doze off in his arms, your body tired and weak.

and chris glared at you both—knowing just from how calm you were and how smug matt looked—that something went on in here that he’d rather not think about. a quite “you guys are disgusting.” muttered from him as matt just laughed.

a/n : this was supposed to be posted on june 28th but i’m very bad at sticking to a schedule obviously. but happy birthday kay!! my sweetest and bestest friend ever. i love you so so much and i hope your day was fantastic and just know that you are stuck with me forever 🤗

this also isn’t proofread so if there’s any spelling mistakes, i apologize

[ccupcakqs]

— don’t start it, but i’ll finish it ౨ৎ✧˚

warnings: one punch thrown, mentions of someone insulting oscar, light arguing pairing: oscar piastri x impulsive female reader a/n: “she’s a menace but she’s my menace” energy, request!

you don’t even hear all of it at first. it’s late, you’re in the hospitality tent grabbing a bottle of water after the race, your head still buzzing with nerves and adrenaline. oscar’s doing press somewhere a few paddocks over, and you were planning to find him as soon as the media cleared out.

but then you hear his name.

and the way they say it makes your stomach twist.

“piastri’s such a damn robot, man. no balls. never makes a move unless someone tells him to.”

the second guy laughs. “he's the world’s most well-behaved number two. they should just paint ‘doormat’ on the back of his suit.”

a third voice—more smug than the rest—leans in. “he’s got the personality of an instruction manual. perfect for mclaren, right? all smiles, zero fight.”

you stop walking.

your water bottle crunches slightly in your hand.

then comes the worst one.

“you think his girlfriend’s with him for the fame? can’t be for the personality.”

there’s laughter. loud, careless, ugly.

you don’t even remember moving.

just your voice—sharp, clear, cutting through their little circle like a blade.

“what the fuck did you just say?”

they all turn.

you don’t flinch.

you step right into their space, eyes locked on the last one who spoke.

“say it again,” you snap. “say it to my face.”

he hesitates, hands raised like he’s trying to play it off.

“hey, relax. it was a joke.”

“not funny,” you say. “try again.”

“look, we were just talking. he’s not even here.”

“doesn’t matter,” you say, teeth gritted. “you don’t get to talk about him like that. not when you wouldn’t last five minutes doing what he does. you sit behind a screen and run your mouth like it’s brave. it’s not. it’s pathetic.”

the guy scoffs. “what, you’re gonna hit me now?”

you don’t answer.

you just let your fist connect with his face.

clean. sharp. direct.

the sound is sickeningly satisfying. his nose cracks and he stumbles back, swearing as blood spills down over his lip. one of his friends catches him. the others back off fast, eyes wide.

you toss the half-empty water bottle on the ground.

“think next time before you talk shit about people better than you.”

and then security shows up.

fifteen minutes later, oscar finds you sitting on the edge of a low wall near the paddock entrance, a small bag of ice in your lap even though your hand’s fine. you’re quiet now. a little flushed. slightly sheepish.

he stops in front of you, arms crossed.

you look up at him and wince. “hi.”

he stares at you.

you smile.

“they said horrible things,” you explain. “i couldn’t just let it go.”

he blinks. “so you punched a guy.”

“i was defending your honor.”

“you broke his nose.”

“he called you a doormat and insulted me.”

he sighs, rubbing a hand down his face, trying very hard not to smile. “you can’t just hit people.”

“you can, actually,” you say. “there are consequences, but the action is entirely possible.”

he laughs under his breath and crouches down in front of you. “you’re insane.”

“i know.”

“and what if he hit you back?”

“then i’d have hit him again.”

he grabs your wrist gently, inspecting your knuckles like he’s still half in disbelief. they’re a little red, but not swollen.

“you’re lucky you didn’t hurt yourself.”

you grin. “i train.”

“you box like once a week.”

“still counts.”

he shakes his head, but there’s a strange expression creeping onto his face—equal parts exasperated and… something else.

“you shouldn’t be doing that,” he says, soft now. “not for me.”

you lean in. “why not? i love you. you matter to me. i don’t care if they were just being loud and stupid. they don’t get to treat you like you’re nothing.”

he swallows.

his fingers flex slightly on your wrist.

“oscar?” you ask, brows lifting. “you good?”

he clears his throat, very pointedly not looking at your mouth. “yeah. just—yeah.”

you tilt your head. “are you—are you turned on right now?”

his ears go pink immediately. “no.”

“oscar.”

“okay. maybe a little.”

you burst out laughing.

he groans and buries his face in your shoulder. “don’t make it weird.”

“me? you’re the one with a weird protector kink.”

“i do not have a kink—”

“babe.”

“fine. i have a slight appreciation for how hot you looked when you went full unhinged.”

you hum. “you should’ve seen their faces. i didn’t even swear at first. i just stood there like i was about to ruin everything.”

“you did ruin everything.”

“i did it for you.”

he kisses you then—hard and a little breathless—like he’s trying to make up for how flustered he is by just giving in.

when he pulls back, he tucks your hair behind your ear and mutters, “next time, just threaten them. no punches unless absolutely necessary.”

you grin. “so violence is on the table?”

he sighs.

“you’re lucky i’m in love with you.”

© ccupcakqs. all work written by me. DO NOT PLAGIARISE!

[batsandbirdbrains]

so I was wondering if you could do something where nobody realizes how much Dick hates Talia if they knew at all but then something happens so people find out/learn the full extent of Dick’s hate toward her how it’s not a little dislike but he hates her with a burning passion maybe they find out when the JL recruit some villains to help stop some big threat and they’re paired together and outwards he has zero reaction but internally he is freaking out like full blown meltdown because it’s Talia like I hate her so much plz anyone but her and then after the Thing is handled people find Nightwing in Talia Al Ghul in a full blown screaming match about who knows what nasty insults are thrown on both sides nobodies seen Nightwing like this either ever or in a really long time

on another note I think your amazing like these ideas are so good

Okay but imagine the hatred is very mutual. They both despise each other. It started when Bruce first took Dick in, because he’d been on and off with Talia for years. And Talia hated that Bruce committed to a child but not to her. A child who isn’t even his blood.

She told Dick from the moment they first met that one day she would marry Bruce, and she’d ship Dick off to boarding school the first chance she got. That she’d have a real child with Bruce, and Bruce would forget all about Dick. That Dick was a fleeting fancy and soon enough, Bruce would be done playing with his new toy.

And Dick is nothing if not petty. He becomes a stage 5 clinger with Bruce, never letting go, making Bruce carry him, hold him, play with him. He screams and cries and begs if Bruce doesn’t stay with him. And Bruce is so freaked out, so worried, so afraid of screwing up Dick’s childhood that he gives in to any little request. He carries Dick around everywhere. They’re always holding hands. Dick barely gives him a moment’s peace.

And after a gala where Talia managed to get Dick alone long enough to threaten him (again), Dick is now resting snugly in Bruce’s arms, his own arms wrapped around Bruce’s neck, and he sends a cheeky little wave at Talia as they’re leaving. Then he quickly follows it up with making the rudest faces and gestures towards her, but no one else is around to see it. No one will ever believe her.

They both drive each other nuts.

Fast forward several years, and the JL is teaming up with a few rogues for whatever reason. And Nightwing and Talia get paired up. They’re outwardly pleasant, but they’re both saying horrible things to each other under the breath when everyone is distracted.

Then they get back, and even though their part arguably went the smoothest, they enter the Watchtower just screaming at each other.

“You’re an evil fucking bitch, you know that?” he snaps. “I’m still not entirely convinced Damian is even yours, no way a kid like that came from a wicked witch like you!”

“You will not speak of my son, you little circus rat!”

“You’re just jealous he likes me better! Just like B; that really must grind your gears, always coming in second place to such a rotten little interloper like myself. Isn’t that what you always called me?”

“I ought to pull your intestines out through your bellybutton and hang you with them.”

“I’d like to see you try!”

Their argument devolves into name calling, shouting, rude gestures, and Nightwing actually sticking his tongue out at her.

When they hear Talia call him, “a rotten little boy who should’ve fallen with his parents,” Damian finally puts a stop to it. He stands in front of Dick and glares at his mother, barking at her to cease this behavior and apologize for saying such an awful thing.

“It’s alright, Dami, it’s fine,” Dick is quick to say, tugging Damian away, holding him close. “She’s said way worse, don’t worry about it. Let’s go home. Do you want to get Batburger with me?”

Damian is horrified to learn his mother has said such terrible things to Dick. He’s even more horrified when Dick lets it slip that they’ve been at each others throats since Bruce first adopted him. He holds on tightly to Dick’s hand, saying in a weak little voice that that’s an abhorrent way for an adult to treat a child. Dick just laughs it off, but he squeezes Damian’s hand and tries to change the subject.

They eat Batburger on top of a tall building in Gotham, looking out at all the lights.

Everyone else was also horrified, but they knew to give Dick his space. Bruce will ask him about it later, once he’s cooled down.

[vxnillabxn]

Hi! 💜 Can I request the LADS boys being doggos? Or puppy boys? Or both? 😔 I hope that's okay w/u! You can choose one too!

𐙚˙⋆.˚ mainfive as dogs & puppy boys! x gn!reader ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ fluff! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚YES! yeeees, yes, i love this, i love this so much. i couldn't chose, so I picked both! hope you like it!

𐙚˙⋆.˚ caleb! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚caleb was a gift from when you were a baby, actually. as soon as you were old enough to crawl around and babble, boom! they added a german shepherd puppy to the family! —both of you caused mischief, though.

﹙♡﹚he's loyal, very protective, very intimidating. he won't let any strangers get near you, and if he feels you're uncomfortable in the slightest, he'll get defensive —or worse, ready to attack if you command him to.

﹙♡﹚he's outdoortsy! he loves being outside. he loves to play, to jump, to run around, and he absolutely loves fetching! he lights up whenever you praise him for bringing the ball or stick back to you.

﹙♡﹚certified good boy ™. he loooves being around you. tail wagging, tongue lolling out as he pants, big puppy eyes just for you. always by your side; sleeping at the end of your bed, waiting outside the bathroom for you, or resting his head on your lap while you watch a movie.

﹙♡﹚loves your scent. you once found all your suspiciously lost t-shirts draped around his bed. he'd dragged them there to keep your scent close, and sleeps like a puppy when he does! he sniffs you a lot, and he'd be able to find you even if you were miles away, just by following your scent.

﹙♡﹚now, as a puppy boy… he's not much different, honestly. though, he can't bark at people or bite them —doesn't mean he doesn't want to— and he can't eat out of his favorite plate unless you lift it from the floor and set it on the table, but he still hates using cutlery.

﹙♡﹚he is always texting you. always. “where are u? do u love me? hiii! are u okay? where are uuu? love me? u good? wheeeere? am i a good boy? yes? love u! hi!”

﹙♡﹚he wags his tail constantly. and yes, he uses those puppy eyes whenever he wants you to give in.

﹙♡﹚he wants to sleep next to you. sure, sleeping at the end of the bed is fine… when he's a dog. but as a full-grown man, he needs to lie down next to you, so he begs, and begs, and begs until you finally let him cuddle you.

﹙♡﹚still loves to play fetch! you can throw him things and he'll catch them for you, running back with a huge grin. you must tell him how good he is, or his ears will go flat.

﹙♡﹚both as a doggo and as a puppy boy, he's your best friend. loyal, charming, absolutely ready to defend you, and happiest when he's by your side.

﹙♡﹚and please, smooch this pup on the forehead. his tail will turn into an helicopter's helix and he'll end up flying! (or he'll just wag his tail furiously, which is just as cute)

𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚you found the little golden retriever puppy wandering around the beach while building sand castles. ever since then, he's been by your side.

﹙♡﹚obviously, he loves water. he swims, he dives, and he retrieves alright. you could be sunbathing, and this good boy will fill your lap with seashells, sea glass and shiny rocks —or even some treasures, like fallen jewelry or coins—. he's your little merpup!

﹙♡﹚he fishes, okay? if you stop giving him attention for even one second, he already has a fish between his teeth. he offers it to you while wagging his tail, and if you don't accept it…

﹙♡﹚the boy will throw a fit. whiny rumbles, turning away from you, stomping his paw in the sand. how dare you not accept his precious offering?

﹙♡﹚a few scratches there and a loud smooch on his head, and he's already good to go again —running around and panting as he digs in the sand and then goes for a dive.

﹙♡﹚he won't go back inside your home if his paws aren't clean. you must clean them, and his luscious coat too. he must be shining, darling. plus, he doesn't want to ruin your floor; he knows you don't like cleaning over and over again, so this pretty boy is trying to be considerate with his human.

﹙♡﹚now, as a puppy boy, he's just as whiny but just as caring. he dives and brings you trinket after trinket —and he looks divine under the sun—. he also found out he's good at crafting, so he's polishing his skills for you to admire.

﹙♡﹚he's friendly, yes… but that doesn't make him any less protective. on the outside, he's smiling and wagging his tail. but he gently steps in front of you, grabs your hand or stands closer, as if reminding everyone that he might be sweet, but you're still his to protect.

﹙♡﹚he absolutely uses his puppy eyes to manipulate you. and you fall for it every single time. both as a dog and as a puppy boy, he'll make you do as he wants —but of course, all he really wants is attention and cuddles. and fishy treats.

﹙♡﹚he found out he needed sunscreen in his human form. at first he didn't want to use it, as it felt sticky, and when he's a dog, he doesn't need it. but once he learned you'd apply it for him, and it could be considered his second coat, he quickly agreed.

﹙♡﹚he texts you like… every second, even when he's right next to you. “can u like… pay me attention? am i pretty? ohmygosh that dog is so annoying, do i bark like that?” you have to teach him to use his phone only for emergencies, but truthfully, everything feels urgent to this poor boy.

﹙♡﹚he just loves you. he's a big boy, yet he acts like a lap puppy. he can be dramatic, but he loves nothing more than to see you happy! he truly feels like you two belong together, and as long as you take care of him… he'll always take care of you, too.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sylus! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚you found a small, white kuvasz puppy in a dark alley when you got lost from your parents. he was just as small, and just as scared as you, but ever since you held him in your tiny arms, he knew you two were going to be a forever deal.

﹙♡﹚he's big. very big. and he's protective. you don't call him your pet, because he's not. he's literally your guardian, and he doesn't even need to growl when strangers approach —if they even dare to do so.

﹙♡﹚however, he's a big, drooling teddy bear once he's with you. this big, fluffy boy follows you around. he's observant, not really that enthusiastic, but the subtle wagging and his loving eyes are more than enough for you to know he adores you.

﹙♡﹚he is vocal. very vocal. he howls, and… it doesn't sound good. but he's very passionate about it! he also enjoys when you listen to music; he'll wag his tail as he lies down by your feet, and if he doesn't like a song, he'll just look at you expectantly.

﹙♡﹚he befriended a tiny crow! you took him out for a walk, and a little black bird fell onto his thick coat. ever since then, the crow comes to visit, and sylus allows him to be near —even letting him stand on your shoulder without trying to scare him away!

﹙♡﹚one night, sylus also brought something interesting back home. you saw two things inside his mouth and almost screamed in horror, before he gently set down two identical kittens. oh, so he has paternal instincts? he lets the kittens follow him, and now your house is full of animals thanks to your caring boy.

﹙♡﹚as a puppy boy, sylus is literally by your hip at all times. you need to walk? he's going too. you have to go shopping? yeah, he's in. you need to— yes, yes, and yes. he'll go with you.

﹙♡﹚he doesn't wag his tail that often, but when he does, it's usually when you tell him he's been very good, and that he did a great job keeping you safe during your nightly walks. he feels proud, and he'll hug you, while his white tail slightly moves behind him.

﹙♡﹚no puppy eyes. he'll literally just demand stuff. obviously, everything he asks for involves you. “you have to eat,” or “it's late, go to sleep.” literally, who's the pet and who's the owner? you don't complain, though. you know better than to argue with your huge boy.

﹙♡﹚both as a dog and as a puppy boy, he'll come to you for head pats. he likes it when you massage his scalp and play with his ears, and he also loves to lie on top of you — even when he weighs quite a lot.

﹙♡﹚he likes to bite and destroy! you didn't expect him to be playful, but when he has pent-up energy, he destroys his toys. as a puppy boy, he finds out that kicking pillows is just as relieving… but you once found him biting on a plushie, and he blushed like a cherry. you don't talk about it, though.

﹙♡﹚he'd take a bullet for you. literally. this good boy would die for you; he'd protect you until his last breath, and he'll forever thank you for staying.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ xavier! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚sweet, samoyed baby. he found you, actually. you were playing at the park when suddenly, a fluffy white cloud climbed onto your lap and fell asleep. instant connection, you took him home.

﹙♡﹚he's a sweet baby. he sleeps, he eats, he follows you… and then he takes a nap. he just waits for you to stay still before plopping down by your feet, sighing contently.

﹙♡﹚he listens to you. when you ramble and ramble non-stop, he looks up at you, head tilted and curious eyes shining. he genuinely pays attention, and he paws at your leg to remind you he's there.

﹙♡﹚he's the fluffiest pillow. he loves when you give him belly scratches, and even more when you rest your head on him while you sleep. he'll happily be your pillow anytime you want!

﹙♡﹚he's… a little chaotic, though. he's lucky he's cute, because you've already found dirty paw prints on your clean sheets and his treats scattered around the kitchen. but then he just looks up at you with those big, innocent eyes… and you forgive him like nothing ever happened.

﹙♡﹚he is a jealous doggo. no, he won't bark or bite, but he'll stand alert, protectively in front of your legs. if another dog comes near, xav steps in and rumbles ever so slightly. he needs to make sure you only have his white hairs all over your clothes —no one else's.

﹙♡﹚as a puppy boy, he's honestly identical. those same adorable eyes, the same quiet jealousy over everything and everyone.

﹙♡﹚you can't sleep with plushies when you could literally spoon him, —he loves being the little spoon— and he wants you to! besides, he's so warm and smells so good…

﹙♡﹚he likes being at the park, but not exactly to play. he loves when you two stargaze. when he spots pretty stars, his ears perk up and he wags his tail excitedly. he's such a cute baby.

﹙♡﹚he hates your plushies. straight up beats them up. as a doggo, he bites them until the stuffing goes flying everywhere. as a puppy boy, he punches them while pouting. he wants your attention only on him. nothing else can be cuter and lying around.

﹙♡﹚he loves kisses. this doggo will stand up and place his paws on your thighs, demanding smooches on his cute nose. as a puppy boy, he'll kneel between your legs and rest his hands on your thighs, looking up at you expectantly. and you smooch him until he grows giddy.

﹙♡﹚he's a very loyal dog. he's a cotton ball with legs, and despite the ruckus he causes around you, you're thankful for having such a bright light keeping you on your feet.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚oh, this sweet, small and fluffy terranova baby was walking through the thick snow, leaving the tiniest paw prints as he wandered around without a path. when you found him with your parents, they decided to bring him in, and ever since, he's been your loyal companion.

﹙♡﹚he's a huge doggo now. big. thick fur, your same height when he stands up on his back paws… if not more. he's a gentle giant, always behind you like a shadow.

﹙♡﹚whenever you ask where he is, you'll hear slow and deliberate steps coming towards you, before he softly pants with his tongue out and sits in front of you, waiting for whatever it is you need.

﹙♡﹚he is so smart. he knows basic tricks, though he doesn't do them often. he usually stays beside you, watching as you work or study. he also helps! he'll bring you your shoes if you ask, and he knows how to open the fridge when it's time to assist you making dinner.

﹙♡﹚he also senses when you feel sick. he'll literally refuse to leave your side, even if it's just a silly fever. he sighs upon seeing you, big green eyes looking at you before he softly licks your cheek. he's worried, but he's trying his best.

﹙♡﹚he's a bit naughty, though! he'll lick your plate after you eat something sweet. although now, he's careful as you once had carrot cake and he despised it. his tummy ached afterwards, and you had to rush to the vet. poor baby.

﹙♡﹚as a puppy boy, he definitely helps more. having thumbs is extremely convenient. he helps you cook, he helps you clean, he helps you shop. and when you're sick, he's even more useful now, bringing you medicine or making soup for you.

﹙♡﹚neither his tail nor his ears are very expressive, but his eyes… his eyes are just as gentle and adoring. he'll let you caress his ears, though, and he loves it when you say he's pretty. he blushes.

﹙♡﹚he doesn't play with toys. he usually lies beside you, but… one thing he does love is picking flowers and giving them to you. he'll go to the park and pick pretty flowers for you, or carry them in his mouth when he's a doggo.

﹙♡﹚he is a kind baby, but his big presence scares small animals away. poor baby tilts his head when the squirrels or birds run off, and puppy boy feels defeated. is he really that scary? even when you tell him how adorable he is?

﹙♡﹚he loves, loves, loves when you cuddle him, both as a doggo and as a puppy boy. his thick coat smells so fresh, and as a puppy boy, he'll embrace you oh so tight.

﹙♡﹚ever since you picked him up, he associates snowy days with warmth and love. so this doggo baby will go outside and lie down until his dark fur turns completely white. as a puppy boy, he'll take you outside and hug you under the snow, whispering how thankful he is for having you in his life.

[hanimanny]

CONVERSATIONS BEFORE BED #2

“We are not furries.”

Tim pales at the thought, head pushed deep into his pillow in embarrassment as he listens to your words. The book he was reading dropped from his hand, discarded to his side (luckily he memorises his page instead of using a bookmark). He can't believe he's having this debate… again.

You lie comfortably on top of Tim, void of any shame as you continue. “You’re grown men with fursonas; you're clearly in denial,” you say, head tucked securely into his shoulder. Tim scoffs but makes no attempt to push you away.

“There are plenty of heroes that go by animal aliases.” He reasons, “There’s Hawkman and Hawkwoman.”

“Bad examples because those two have bird wings and a beak.”

“Dove and Hawk”

“You said ‘hawk' twice.” Tim can feel your lashes flutter against his shoulder, imagining your face twisting in confusion. “Hawk, as in Hank Hall,” he clarifies. “Are we talking about Dawn's beefy chode?”

Tim looks down at you and raises his eyebrow. He remains silent for a moment, contemplating whether he should comment but yields: “Yeah…”

“Ah, well, those two also dress in bird suits.”

“Falco—”

“Actually, what's with you and every hero before you picking birds? Is this some type of unified kink?”

“I do not have a bird kink,” Tim denies in a firm voice, mimicking Bruce’s. You lightly chuckle, “Of course you don’t… Not that I'm not willing to try—”

“Please shut up.”

You never get to finish your thought, succumbing to Tim’s pained requests.

Soon, silence settles once again, and Tim finally starts to ease back into peace.

“Okay, but you have to admit, there is a strange abundance of bird people”

He sighs and shakes his head.

You're ridiculous, but you're his ridiculous.

Tim relents and humours your thoughts, “Yeah, there is.” When the words leave his lips, he can feel your grin grow against his chest, and he can't help himself, wrapping his arms around you to squeeze tightly. You let out a soft giggle and kiss his collarbone and squeeze back.

“I’d still love you if you were a furry.”

Moment ruined.

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

Hi!

I wanted to request a batboys x reader where they grapple/swing around with reader to get them out of a situation or whatever, but due to all the quick moving around, as soon as they land reader gets really sick and the boys try to comfort/help reader

Ps. Love your writing!

“Swinging from the chandelier…”

Batboys x reader:when they make reader feel sick by swinging/grappling too fast

I can’t believe you guys actually like my writing 😭i love you guys sm💛💛

⸻

Bruce Wayne

Grapples you out of an exploding situation with one arm, full Bat-dad mode activated.

Lands with expert control — you stumble off and immediately gag behind a trash can.

Bruce goes still. His hand is on your back in two seconds flat.

“Easy. Breathe through it. I moved too fast.”

Peels back his cowl just a little so you can see his concerned expression.

Offers water from his belt, crouches beside you so you don’t feel small.

He feels terrible and just keeps repeating:

“That was my fault. We’ll go slower next time.”

⸻

Dick Grayson

He’s so confident while swinging. Chatting the whole time like it’s a theme park ride.

Doesn’t notice your face going pale mid-air until you land and you immediately bend over and groan.

“Oh my god—was it the triple somersault?! Babe? Baaabe?”

He’s instantly at your side, fanning you with his gloved hand, pulling your hair back, muttering:

“I’m never doing that again. Okay, maybe just a double next time.”Feels horribly guilty but is also trying not to laugh out of sheer panic.

Brings you ginger chews, presses a forehead kiss, and promises:

“You say the word and I’ll walk you over rooftops next time.”

⸻

Jason Todd

Grapples you out of a crumbling warehouse like a goddamn hero.

You’re both panting as he lands on the fire escape — until you promptly double over and retch into a bucket someone left behind.

“Sh*t, are you—oh crap, that’s not good.”Holds you steady with one arm, other hand rubbing your back.Is lowkey freaking out but masks it with:

“Guess the Red Hood thrill ride’s off the table, huh?”Takes you straight home (slowly this time), throws a blanket over your shoulders, gives you Gatorade, and mutters:

“You throw up one time and suddenly I’m a criminal again.”

⸻

Tim Drake

Pulls you into his grapple line mid-chase, not realizing how fast he’s going until you land and you stumble like a ragdoll.

“Oh no. Oh no-no-no. Are you gonna throw up? Please don’t throw up. That’d be—oh, yep. Okay. Yep.He’s panicking so hard but trying to be calm for your sake.

Googles “how to help with motion sickness” while holding your hair.Once you’re okay, wraps his jacket around you and insists on calling an Uber instead of grappling back.

“Screw the rooftops. We’re taking a regular car. With seatbelts. And ginger ale.”

Doesn’t stop checking on you for the next 12 hours.

⸻

Damian Wayne

Snatches you mid-danger, full-on ninja swing mode. Lands flawlessly. You do not.

You lean against a wall, wheezing, then abruptly throw up into a planter box.

Damian stares, silently horrified. Then mutters:

“I told you to brace your core.”But despite the sharp tone, he instantly takes off his cape and drapes it over you for warmth.

Has a tiny bottle of electrolyte tabs in his belt — offers them without a word.Very gently helps you sit.

“Next time, you stay behind me. Or I carry you upright like a civilized person.”

Secretly shaken by it, though. You find hot tea and a note on your bedside later:

“You were very brave. I’ll improve my speed and angle calculations next time. —D”

[saebyeokbliss]

we need more JMMATA canons :3

how HOT DIVISION is while dating you publicly

pairing: hot division x fem!reader

warnings: established relationships, rumors/partial smau, fluff, crack, pure wlw love

a/n: happy to answer my request!! have more coming soon loves xx

KIM JI-YEONG

absolutely thrives in a public relationship. she’s loud and proud and does not believe in keeping things quiet.

always has her arm around you in public: on your waist, around your shoulders, holding your hand, anything to remind everyone you’re hers.

posts the most chaotic couple pics on social media. half blurry selfies, half over-the-top captions like “me n my muse 😌💋💥”

constantly dedicates songs to you during performances. “this next one’s for my girl. she knows who she is.” (cue screaming from the crowd.)

gets jealous when fans flirt with you in her comments but it just makes her post more about you.

loves PDA, especially spontaneous kisses and pulling you into the spotlight at events. “you look too good to be hiding in the back.”

she talks about you in interviews all the time. the band groans every time she goes off on a tangent about your last date.

treats the relationship like it’s a movie. dramatic, passionate, messy in the best way. she wants every second with you to feel big.

KANG SAE-BYEOK

surprisingly open about the relationship, but in a lowkey, effortless way.

she doesn’t say much, but the way she looks at you in public says everything. soft eyes. subtle smirks. lingering glances.

rarely posts, but when she does, it’s a candid photo of you with a cryptic caption like “mine.”

catches a lot of attention because of her cool, mysterious vibe, but she only has eyes for you.

not big on PDA, but always stays close. her pinky brushing yours, a hand on your back, tucking your hair behind your ear.

fans go feral whenever you’re spotted together, especially when you’re wearing her clothes (which happens often).

she’s protective in a quiet way. always keeping an eye out for you, steering you through crowds, stepping in when the press gets too pushy.

treats the relationship like a slow-burning fire—intense, private, and deeply loyal. if you’re hers, you’re hers completely.

KANG NO-EUL

isn’t flashy about the relationship, but doesn’t hide it either. she just... exists with you and lets people figure it out.

gives very soft butch x femme energy in public—carries your bag, opens doors, stands behind you in photos like your personal bodyguard.

her fans adore her stoic demeanor, but lose it when she breaks into a rare smile while looking at you.

will never post a selfie, but will post a photo of your coffee order with a tiny heart in the caption.

doesn’t speak much during interviews, but when someone asks about you, she blushes and mutters, “she’s everything.”

hates drama and confrontation, but will absolutely shut someone down if they disrespect you.

always checks in with you after busy events:“you okay?” / “want to leave?” / “need water?” she’s attentive without making a show of it.

treats the relationship like a calm, solid anchor. something she doesn’t need to shout about because it’s real.

HAN SE-M

lives for the chaos of a public relationship. she’s a menace and she knows it.

constantly teasing you in interviews, on stage, on social media—“don’t mind her, she’s just obsessed with me.”

posts videos of you doing mundane things like brushing your teeth or folding laundry with captions like “wife behavior 🥵”

loves PDA—especially sneak attack kisses, grabbing your hand at random, and draping herself over you like a cat.

the kind of girlfriend who shows up to your work with coffee and kisses your cheek in front of everyone.

fans are obsessed with your dynamic—she’s the loud, chaotic one and you’re the only one who can actually get her to behave.

will absolutely start fake fights on twitter just to post cute make-up selfies after.

treats the relationship like a game she’s winning—but beneath all the teasing is someone who’s fiercely loyal and deeply in love.

[womanofwords]

Hay, um, I don't know if you're taking story requests right now or if this is how it's supposed to be done, but I've had this one reader x batfam thing stuck in my head for a while and I figured I'd at least see if I could get your thoughts on it.

So y/n runs away after the yandere starts getting out of hand. Maybe it starts similar to Cold Hearts with y/n getting hurt. Eventually, y/n runs into Bane while trying to get out of Gotham. He hears her story and helps her get out using his private boat or something. The family sees her getting while searching for her in costume.

Bane takes y/n to some island compound and gives her a room to stay in while he decides what to do with her. Eventually, he takes her on as an apprentice, and they start to bond, three or so months in, she accidentally calls him dad and then again and again, and soon enough, she's unironically calling Bane things like papa and daddy and he's calling her his own little pet name( in my head I imagine it "little dumbbell " but you do whatever). They, of course, create a costume for her to where when she's helping Bane with his stuff, I imagine it being various shades of blue with a mask reminiscent of her papa's.

One day, the batfam finds the compound and crashes in demanding to know where y/n is. Bane is surprised to see them but takes the opportunity to introduce his new partner

"Well, Batman, I don't think she'd want to go home even if you could take her. But how we take the time for you to meet my new apprentice"

Y/n leaps onto the scene in costume, now a tower of muscle thanks to Daddy's exercise regiment. The fam doesn't recognize her thanks to the costume and new muscles.

"Where is y/n Whane??!!!" Batsie screams

"Dead," y/n replies, "killed herself, something about how even if her family cared enough to want her back, they'd never get to her."

The bats are horrified by this and leave after a large brawl ensues.

They find out the truth eventually and start trying to get her back to no evail.

I don't have much more than that, but I still feel it was worth presenting to you.

I honestly think you read my mind, because I've been having a similar idea for a while now. Bane would make a great parent, if the standard for 'great parent' was being slightly more attentive than Bruce Wayne and remembering things other than their name and maybe their school. Since none of the Batfam really look at Reader (that plus the bulking up), that would go some way to explaining why they don't recognise her when she shows up with a new identity.

Bonus point for the Batfam realising that after searching Gotham for a dead body matching your description and not finding one because you're not dead (and they couldn't describe you anyway), you never actually died and was in front of them the whole time, as Bane's 'daughter'.

"How did you not notice her leaving to go and meet me, Batman?" Bane taunted. "If she's really so unfortunate as to be your biological daughter."

"Alfred handled most things," Bruce admitted. "We just want Y/N to understand that she has nothing to fear from us."

"But I always do!" you insisted. "Your son stabbed me with a serrated katana and you told me to consider his feelings. Hell no. Not taking my chances."

"Y/N, get away from that monster!" Damian demanded. Typical Damian, expecting things to go his way.

"Leave my daddy alone!" you yelled. "You have your dad and I have mine! Now go away!"

"But Y/N, I'm your daddy," Bruce said. "I'm the daddy to both of you."

"No, you're not! Don't be disgusting! Daddies play with their kids and know things about them! You're not my daddy!"

"Good girl, Y/N," Bane said, hugging you proudly. Bruce's stomach turned. "Let's leave this flock of bats in their belfry. You need to meet your protein goals, don't you?"

"Uh-huh," you said, relaxing into Bane's touch as he led you away.

"My sister doesn't love me," Damian whimpered. "And she thinks I'm not her brother."

"I should kill Bane just for looking at Y/N," Jason growled.

"I'll help you get away with it," Dick said.

"We'll need a new tactic." Bruce's voice cut through the plotting. "Something to aid Y/N in realising that we love her."

"She used to always want to read my books. I'll gift some to her," Jason suggested.

"Y/N could totally use a girls' day," Stephanie said. "She can't be left alone with just Bane. She needs girls around her."

"We can discuss the details later," Bruce said. "Let's go home."

The bats retreated to their belfry, which was much colder than they would have liked.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

hihihi, i LOVE your stuff, long time lurker <3 im not sure if you are still in need of Aemond requests but if you are 👉👈,,,,, heres an idea,,, (or maybe multiple ideas i feel like this could be broken up into a few cute stories sbsvsbbsbsbs)

alpha aemond × omega reader who have been close to each other since they were young, similar interests and generally being the only two who ever thought about the other (niece reader maybe?) and despite everything they never stopped missing each other. they find a way to get letters to each other, and they decide to meet secretly after reader finally claims a dragon and realize they are mates <3

and!!! secret marriage plot! because you KNOW as soon as Aemond realizes he's found his omega he throws nearly all prosperity out the window because i will never get over the idea of secret Valyrian wedding w/Aemond. (Small?? Intimate?? Only super important people? Yes. Dream wedding, babe. My favorite idea is that dragons are considered legitimate witnesses in Valyrian Weddings :])

and the only reason anyone ever finds out what they did, because Aemond and reader be way too good at sneaking around to see each other,, the ‘easily ignored good children who never do anything bad why would they need watched?’ thing y'know? baby. reader gets pregnant and they decide no more separation because well they are havin’ a baby why wouldn't they be together?? well, no one can reverse the marriage now, they are stuck dealing with smug Aemond and a very pampered reader who is way too happy to be a mom for anyone to rain on her parade. (without facing Aemond's wrath which maybe someone tries it because drama lol) except they have twin boys and Aemond gets 10x more smug and annoying (or maybe triplet boys using Omegaverse logic, i'm not sure how safe triplets would be without it lol) smug daddy aemond because i love that he deserves to be a happy dad idc what anyone says

this is long i got carried away sorry! i needed to ramble i guess im gonna go reread all your aemond stuff for the 100th time ok ty!! <3

–🪻

Dragon Witnesses-Alpha!Aemond

I love that your request was so long, give me specifics, I thrive on your creative details! I will never promise that I’ll write it perfectly but when I’m given fun, sweet details that you guys come up with it gives me more ideas to put into the story. I love this request, I’m always excited to see an Aemond request since all of mine are usually Klaus (which is Great! I love writing Klaus fics-they’re my favorite!) so getting requests for Aemond always has my mind going a million miles a minute with ideas! I hope that this is everything that you wanted it to be!

Warnings: Smut! Bullying

They had always been close, ever since they were babies.

Alicent had given birth to Aemond only a few months before Rhaenyra had Y/n and the wet nurse that took care of them kept them close to her which ended with them sleeping in a crib together quite often. As they got older they sought each other out, Y/n would always wake up early and crawl from her bed and end up crawling into her Kepus’ bed where she went back to sleep for an hour or two snuggled to Aemond’s chest-his arms wrapped firmly around her where he believed they belonged. Everyone knew of course, they would walk into breakfast every morning hand in hand and whisper their conversation in Valyrian so that Aegon, Jace and Luke could never understand them as they were all garbage at learning their mother tongue.

As they grew people became worried about their relationship, “People” of course being Alicent and Rhaenyra. They could see how close their children were and they wanted to stop it but keeping them apart never lasted-though honestly neither of the women actually thought for a moment that their children would be mates-would be anything other than the Betas that Targaryens had been for centuries. Neither Aemond nor Y/n minded getting in trouble for breaking any rules if it meant that they could be together. In the end their mothers gave up on keeping them apart after Aemond was found in Y/n’s bed one morning, having spent the night holding her after an entire day not seeing his best friend even once.

It wasn’t until Rhaenyra had Joffrey that they were really pulled apart. Her mother decided to move back to Dragonstone, keeping it from her daughter until she was on the ship. As the ship set off Rhaenyra finally told Y/n what was happening, a guard having to hold her from jumping overboard and swimming back to shore. She watched the dock as they sailed away, seeing her best friend running down the dock and screaming her name as he got to the end, Y/n shouting back and trying to ignore her giggling brothers as she watched her Kepus become smaller and smaller in the distance.

They didn’t see each other again until Laena’s funeral, Y/n jumping into Aemond’s arms and hugging him as tightly as she could, Aemond’s arms clutching to her and refusing to let go. He stayed holding onto her for the entire day, only letting go as she was escorted to bed that night-though she was awoken again abruptly when a guard barged into her room to check on her.

She was escorted through the castle and into the main hall where she violently shoved her way around everyone until she got to her Kepus.

“Aemond!” She gasped, moving to his side and taking his hand into hers, ignoring everyone as they argued angrily with each other. “Are you alright?! I’m so sorry I wasn’t there! I-“

“No, I’m glad you weren’t. I wouldn’t forgive myself if you were hurt, and knowing your brothers, after tonight I don’t think they would have cared if they hurt you…I claimed Vhagar! I have a dragon!” He told her as excitedly as he could. They had talked their entire lives about how they were going to grow up and claim dragons of their own, how they would be better than their brothers dragons and no one would ever be able to tease them again.

“That’s amazing! I knew you could do it! You are a dragon rider now…just don’t leave me behind, okay?” Aemond shook his head promptly.

“You’re coming with me! I’m taking you riding first thing in the morning-“

“No. You need to rest Aemond, you need to heal…does it hurt terribly?” She asked, moving to sit on his lap as he pulled her closer and she laid her head in his neck, kissing his throat and hugging him tightly.

“No. I’m alright, don’t you worry Issa jorrāelagon.” (My Love)

“Don’t be so brave Kepus, you are so strong! I would be crying like a toddler if I was you-” (Uncle)

“I would never let this happen to you! You are my beautiful little Princess, no one will ever harm you-and if they try I will feed them to my dragon!”

Y/n stayed there holding onto Aemond for another few minutes until everyone went back to bed and she refused to go anywhere other than Aemond’s bed with him. Alicent relented quickly, unwilling to deny her injured boy what he needed, talking Viserys into allowing it since Rhaenyra would not. She stayed by his side all night, giving him water whenever he woke up and fetching his mother and the maester in the morning. Unlike last time she couldn’t be tricked into boarding the ship to leave and so later that day she was grabbed by a guard that shoved Aemond away as he tried to punch him. She was carried to the ship and locked in her cabin until they set off.

She hated her family after that.

They took the most important person in her world away again-after butchering his face-and none of them cared. They had thankfully found a way to communicate, a Raven that Y/n had nursed back to health after it had broken its wing served as their communication as it delivered letters to each of them without delivering them to anyone else.

They told each other everything, Aemond even telling her what Aegon had done to him on his 13th name day. Y/n had vowed to beat him bloody the next time she saw him which Aemond found sweet-and comedic as he pictured his sweet Princess on top of his older brother, beating his face in while he cried-the image always brought Aemond a smile. Y/n told him the moment that she claimed a dragon of her own, Grey Ghost becoming the girls only friend on Dragonstone and she had an instantly deep connection with the off-white dragon, they both hated people and preferred their solitude.

Aemond and Y/n wrote each other after that, always promising to see each other soon, Aemond trying to find a place somewhere between them that they could meet without anyone else sticking their noses in their business. It wasn’t until their 16th name days that they knew they needed to make that dream of seeing each other come true. Aemond wrote her the night of his 16th name day and told her that he had presented as an Alpha. To say that she was shocked was an understatement but she was also heartbroken. Aemond was an Alpha which means he would need to find his own Omega, his mate, it meant that another girl was going to come along and steal him from her and no matter how much Aemond insisted that he would never want anyone but her, her fears remained…until her 16th name day.

To say that it was hectic would be a massive understatement…a Targaryen Omega hadn’t existed in the world since Aegon the Conqueror’s sister Rhaenys. Rhaenyra was quickly speaking to all of her advisors and trying to find a suitable Alpha for her daughter-though she should have known that her daughter had plans of her own. She wrote Aemond immediately and he sent back a response that night with a location on the piece of paper and nothing else.

Aemond had always been possessive of Y/n, ever since they were 2 years old and he would shove Jace away from her and insist that she belonged to him. No one ever expected anything to come of it, though now it seemed that it all made sense and it always had…

By the time she got there Aemond was already waiting beside Vhagar. She landed Ghost a few hundred yards away, not wanting her dragon to be scared, though he would have to get used to the large she-dragon since they would be seeing a lot of each other. As she slid down Ghosts wing Aemond was already on his way to her, Y/n looking up after petting her dragons nose and locking eyes with her Uncle, her heart fluttering and nearly jumping from her chest as her knees grew weak. She could hear his loud growl from the distance, whimpering pathetically as she began moving her legs and running towards him-jumping into his arms as soon as he was close enough and hugging him as tightly as she could.

‘Look at me!’ He demanded, pulling her back and looking down at her face for a moment and mumbling something about how gorgeous she was before he pulled her body back against his own and pressed his lips to hers possessively.

‘Alpha…’ she purred, her hands clutching tightly to his jacket and allowing him to dominate the kiss as he clearly wanted.

‘You are so perfect Omega! My perfect little mate, did just what your Alpha told you like a good girl.’ He praised-knowing how desperate Omegas were for love and praise and instantly seeing how right he was as she purred louder and wound her arms around his neck. His reward was her allowing his hands to explore her body every which way he wanted. His hands settled on her breasts and he couldn’t help but imagine them large and full along with her belly as he trailed his hands down along her stomach, imagining her full of his babies. ‘Fuck! Need you Omega, your Alpha is going to fuck you so good-mark my pretty little Omega for everyone to see! No one will ever dare take you from me again!’ Just as Aemond’s hands moved to unlace her corset she gasped, pulling away and whining as he growled quite loudly at being denied his Omega the way he wanted.

‘Aemond! No! We can’t-we are mated now, we need to wait until we are married! We can have a wedding that-‘

‘Your mother will never allow that Y/n and you know it.’ He told her, much more calmly this time, hating to see how excited she was since it would never be the way she wanted.

‘N-No…you’re my Alpha! She can’t-‘

‘She can and she will, Omega! She’s probably already searching for an appropriate Alpha for you to marry, she’s not going to let us be together. She will try and wed you off to another house as far from me as possible!’ Aemond’s grip on her waist tightened as he heard her sniffle, seeing the tears running down her cheeks and quickly moving to wipe them away.

Behind Y/n her dragon stepped closer, clearly not enjoying his riders sadness and nudging her back which just shoved her into Aemond’s arms even more before he did it again and Y/n fell onto Aemond chest as he landed on the sand-the dragon roaring out a high pitched noise which had the both of them laughing a moment later. Ghost settled down beside them and Vhagar did the same a few yards away as Aemond just held her on his chest. ‘I want to be married, Aemond. I don’t want to just be some stupid Omega on the side while you end up married to another Omega in Court! I don’t want to be your whore that-‘

‘Not in a million lifetimes Issa jorrāelagon, I would never do that to you-‘

‘And what choice will we have?! You’re right, I will be forced to marry another Alpha and you will be given another Omega and we will just end up sneaking around forever!’ Aemond could see the fear in her eyes as they became glassy, tears falling once again and she began to panic. ‘My babies will be bastards! They won’t know their father, I’m going to end up alone and-‘

‘Enough!’ He shouted, Y/n flinching but finally taking a breath. ‘That’s enough Y/n, your Alpha would never let that happen to you! If you want to be married then we will marry…you’re going to go home and get your pretty little ass in bed and sleep, because tomorrow night you will be right back here with me where we will get married. We will do it in the ways of our ancestors, the way your mother and Daemon did it. All we need is someone to marry us and our dragons can witness just fine-we don’t need anyone else. Then your Alpha will fill this belly with my babies, our children will be legitimate and perfect-and if you ever again insinuate that I would allow my children to be bastards like your brothers I will take you over my knee, Omega.’ He warned, though the smile on his face let her know that he was teasing her but also very much not.

‘Yes Alpha…I’m sorry. Thank you. I will be a good mate, I promise! I will be the perfect Omega-‘

‘You already are, Issa jorrāelagon.’ Aemond swore, helping her up before connecting their lips once again. ‘You are going to go home now and get into bed, you will be right here at the same time tomorrow night and I will have someone here to marry us.’ Aemond swore-and that’s just what he did.

The next night when Y/n arrived she was greeted by not only Vhagar but also Dreamfyre and Sunfyre.

‘Helaena I understand, but Aegon is here too?’ His Omega questioned, Aegon smirking before he swung back the bottle of wine, taking a large gulp from it.

‘You think I’m going to miss my brothers wedding? When our family finds out and begins losing their minds, I want to be able to say I witnessed the whole thing.’ Aegon explained, taking his place as Helaena took Y/n’s hand and pulled her to stand in front of Aemond.

The ceremony was quick as Aemond and Y/n promised themselves to each other for eternity. Helaena married them and Aegon witnessed as well as all 4 of their dragons-dragons having been legitimate witnesses to Targaryen weddings for centuries now-and now that they were married there was nothing that their families could do to tear them apart.

‘I have something to show you. Come.’ Aemond told her, taking his Omega’s hand and pulling her along down the beach. In the tree line, just off the beach there was a large pile of pillows and furs waiting for them.

‘You brought us a nest? Aemond…’ Y/n whimpered, tears falling from her eyes as she was overwhelmed by heavy emotions. ‘It’s beautiful! Thank you!’ She turned around, pulling her Alpha down to her height and pressing her lips back to his roughly. Aemond pushed her back, dropping the both of them down onto the plush nest where he began pulling her dress off of her, stripping her and looking down at his girl bare for him for the first time in his life.

‘You are so beautiful, Omega! So fucking perfect!’ He breathed, needy for his mate in a way Aemond had never felt before as he shed his own clothes, his cock leaking against his toned stomach. ‘Alpha is going to rut you so good Omega, gonna fill you with my pups! You’ll be in my bed in the Keep before you know it, our pups suckling at your breasts while I rut you full of another litter all over again! Gonna give your Alpha all the pups he wants like a good little Omega, aren’t you?’

She nodded into his neck frantically as he pressed his cock into her dripping hole. ‘Yes Alpha! Yes! Give you all the pups you want! Please?! Want to be full of your pups Alpha-Please?!’ She begged, squealing as Aemond thrust up into her for the first time, her hole squeezing him so tight.

‘Oh Fuck! So perfect Omega! Fuck! My good Omega, letting her Alpha fuck her so full! Perfect Omega! My good baby! Gonna fill this hole so full, over and over again until you’re leaking me all night! Fuck! Gonna fill you so good, cum for me Omega! Cum so that Alpha can fill you up!’ As his Omega came, squeezing his cock he pulled her as close as he could get her, burying his cock into her hole and filling her with everything he possibly could.

Aemond held his mate on his chest, fingers running through her hair, allowing her to have a nap before having to wake her and send her back home. He hated the idea of his Omega being away from him, though he knew it would only be for a short while-it never took an Omega long to get pregnant.

And it truly didn’t take long at all. 2 weeks later and she already knew that she was pregnant.

Y/n mounted Ghost the morning she first got sick, knowing that she was supposed to find her Alpha as soon as she shows signs of being pregnant. Flying to Kings Landing didn’t take long, Ghost landing just outside the front gates and waiting there with her until her Alpha arrived.

‘Princess. To what do we owe this surprising pleasure?’ The Queen wondered, having arrived to greet her with her father before her Alpha did.

‘Your Grace. It is lovely to see you, it’s been too long. I am here to see Aemond.’ Y/n explained, Alicent looking surprised by that.

‘I am sure your mother would not want you here, I am in the process of finding my son an Omega to marry as I’m sure your mother searches for an Alpha for you. I think you should-‘

‘That’s enough mother!’ Her Alphas voice shouted from behind them, moving quickly to see his Omega, knowing what her presence means. ‘Please do not be speaking of other Omegas for me, you will upset my wife. She is already in a delicate state, I will not have you hurting her.’ Aemond insisted, making it to her side and pulling Y/n close to his chest, kissing her contently. ‘How are you feeling, Omega?’

‘I woke up this morning quite sick but it has passed and I am actually quite hungry now.’ She answered honestly and Aemond grinned excitedly.

‘Mother, Y/n and I are married. Helaena wed us 2 weeks ago, both Aegon and all of our dragons were there to witness. Now my mate is already showing signs of being pregnant, such a good Omega, carrying my pups already.’ Aemond grinned, excitedly. ‘She will be living here now, I have already moved my chambers to a larger space and my Omega will join me there. Please have a maid bring her up something for lunch? I need to make sure my Omega and our babies are fed.’ Aemond held her hand in his, leading her passed his mother and grandfather just as Ghost took off.

‘Aemond! I am in discussions with 2 families offering their Omega daughters to you! You cannot just-‘

‘I am already married mother, it is a legitimate marriage and cannot be undone-nor do I want it to be. You were perfectly aware of what I wanted and you chose to ignore it in favor of your own agenda, as did Rhaenyra. My wife and I cannot be bothered with your plans falling through. Now, I need to take care of my wife, I will give you time to adjust to this new reality as my wife is carrying my pups, you are going to have more grandkids. You may decide if you would like to be a part of their lives or not.’ With that, Aemond took his Omegas hand and led her into the Keep, straight up the stairs and to their bedchambers.

The couple was content to stay in their chambers in wedded bliss for nearly a week, eventually both of their mothers relenting as they didn’t want to miss out on their grandchildren knowing that Aemond would keep them away if they didn’t choose to accept them.

A little less than 9 months later his Omega gave birth to his pups, 2 boys and a girl-all being put in their cribs with one of Syrax’s eggs beside them waiting to hatch. The Alpha and Omega would have 4 more kids in the next few years-5 boys and 2 girls-no one questioning their relationship again.

Upon Viserys’ death and Rhaenyra’s rise to the throne, Dragonstone was passed down to Y/n who was happy to move her children away from Kings Landing-Aemond and his Omega content to live out the rest of their lives together with their children.

Aemond T. Masterlist

[froggerland]

Guys.... Today's the DAY I finally set up commissions!! (Well sort of)

Actually I set up a Kofi account so you can leave me a tip if you like my work (no pressure tho, I know times are hard for everyone especially for you americans), but you can also commission me soon!! I'm going back to uni after the summer but since I've done a few detours trying to find a career that suits me it's unclear if the government will give me money to support me while I study (I love German bureaucracy <3) SO that was the final push to finally set up commissions ahaha

For now its only gonna be the tip jar though, I'm starting my summer job (which includes night shifts) tomorrow and I'm also recovering from a nasty flu so I'll have to see when and how much time and energy I have to do commissions. I'll make a seperate post once commissions are open!

This was also hugely inspired by the talented @irvingcoded and their posts on commissions, it introduced me to Kofi which is so so helpful to organize my commission tiers (I say this now, let's pray the website keeps behaving)

Also in the same vein of what they said: My asks are still open for requests, theres no guarantee that I'll ever get to them tho, I'm applying the Dave K approved modern Tozer mindset of "what she like she keeps, what she doesn't, she doesn't": If something really inspires me at that moment I'll draw it however elaborately I want, but if you want your favorite dolls to kiss neow (especially the ones I usually never draw like Hickey lmao) maybe consider commissioning me :]

Again please check out irvingcoded's commissions as well!!

[reysdriver]

hi!! just wondering id you could possible make more dad!regulus fics?

you have some news you keep meaning to share with Regulus, but it's a struggle to find the time to tell him — dad!regulus x mom!reader fluff

warnings: reader is pregnant if you couldn't already tell from the description, I guess a little bit of angst and anxiety but it's mostly sweet

words: 2.4k

a/n: sorry this took so long, I'm actually so slow with requests and its a problem lol but I hope you like this! (also I'm testing out my man Mark as an alternative fancast for Regulus here)

All week, you’d been keeping a secret from your husband. 

It’s not that you hadn’t wanted to tell Regulus, you just hadn’t found the right opportunity. With two young children, it’s hard to find a moment alone for a serious discussion, but you knew that moment would come soon enough. 

If that moment came today, that would be preferable. You were ready to tell your husband you were pregnant again, and you were hoping you didn’t have to wait any longer. 

When Regulus came home from work, Aurora was napping and Perseus was upstairs playing in his room. Your husband dropped his stuff by the door and met you in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around you while you tended to the food on the stove. 

“Hi.” You giggled, melting into his touch. “How was work?”

“It was good.” He responded, then pressed a kiss to your cheek before letting go of you. “How was your day? How were the kids?”

“Wonderful, as always. We went for a walk, did some crafts, and now they’re both upstairs.”

As you spoke, you fixed some curly locks of his hair that were astray, and Regulus watched you, just as in love as when you had first gotten together. 

“You look like you’re a couple minutes away from falling asleep.” Regulus noted. “Are you alright?” 

You nodded lazily. “I’m fine. I think it’s just from how long it took to get Aurora to bed for her nap.”

That was a lie. You knew it was the pregnancy causing you to feel tired, just as it had been for the last couple days. You weren’t sure why you made up an excuse instead of just telling him right then and there. 

“Okay.” He said, skeptical about your answer but doing a wonderful job at hiding it. “Do you want to rest while I finish up dinner? Even just for a little bit?”

“I’m alright, love, really.” 

With that, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, your hands tangled in the same hair you had just fixed. You decided while kissing him that now was a good time to tell him. 

But before you let go of him, you heard a cascade of footsteps coming down the stairs, which caused you to break the kiss and ditch your mission of telling Regulus.

Perseus ran straight to his dad, so excited to see his dad after he was away at work all day. The little boy wrapped his arms tightly around his father’s legs, and Regulus leaned down to hug him back as well as he could. 

“Hey, Perse, did you miss me?” He asked, even though he could make an educated guess on that answer.

“Yes!” The boy nodded. “But I had a good day at home with Mummy!”

“Thank you, baby.” You smiled at him while you continued stirring the pot on the stove. 

Your son let go of his dad’s legs, but kept looking up at him. “I drew you a picture today! It’s upstairs in my room.”

“Do you want to show it to me?” Regulus asked. 

“After dinner. Can I help Mummy cook?”

Regulus lifted Perseus up and sat him on the counter next to you. “That’s a question for her.”

Your little boy looked at you with pleading eyes, hoping he could help you out, even if that just meant stirring the sauce a couple times. 

“I’m almost done, but you can still help me.” You said, handing him the wooden spoon. “Here, you can stir this gently. It’s all hot, so be very careful.”

He nodded, and did as you asked. While he did so, he continued chatting happily with Regulus about all the things you and the kids did today. And when dinner was over, you lifted Perseus off the counter and thanked him heavily for his ‘help’. 

Then as you plated it all, you asked Regulus if he could go wake up your daughter and bring her downstairs to eat with you all. He went upstairs, and by the time all the food was on the dinner table, he was coming back, this time with Aurora in his arms.

Her hair was messy from her nap and she was still yawning, but she seemed happy to see you and Regulus, plus a table of food right beside you both. 

She babbled the word “mama” as you took her from Regulus and sat her down in her high chair. 

“Yes, mama’s here.” You smiled. “And dada, and Perse, and dinner. Let’s eat!”

After dinner, you and Regulus sat on the couch as Perseus and Aurora played on the carpet in front of you, sometimes inviting you into whatever they were doing. The whole time, you were curled up close to your husband, thinking about how you were going to have another baby soon enough, and he had no idea yet. 

You could have whispered it to him right there; the moment was sweet enough. But you still wanted to tell him when it was just the two of you, then let the kids know after that. 

But you did still whisper something to him. Instead of telling him about the pregnancy, you kissed his cheek and spoke softly close to him. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” He affirmed, lifting your hand lightly and kissing just above your wedding ring. 

You smiled and cuddled up even closer to Regulus—if that was even possible—and exhaled calmly. 

Later, you and Regulus took the kids upstairs, gave them their baths, and then started running through the usual nighttime routine. As monotonous and tiring as it could be sometimes, you really did cherish bedtime at home. 

It always ended with cuddles while you read or told a story to the kids, then getting into bed with your husband, and ever since Perseus was born, that’s been your favourite way to end a day.

You had decided between you and Regulus that you would put Perseus to bed and he would put Aurora in her crib. Once you finished reading Perseus his favourite storybook and he admitted that he was feeling sleepy, you tucked him in tightly and pressed a kiss to the apple of his cheek. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” You whispered. 

“Goodnight, Mummy.” 

And with that, you got up and closed the door quietly on your way out. You walked down the hall to your bedroom, where Regulus was already sitting on the bed in his pyjamas, reading the book he was keeping on his nightstand. 

“She went to sleep quickly?” You asked, picking out a nightgown from your drawer. 

“Yeah, really quick.” Regulus responded. “I think playing with her brother tired her out.”

“Well, whatever the reason is, I’m okay with it ‘cause it means we have more time to ourselves.” You teased, heading to the privacy screen in the corner while you changed. 

Since having two kids who constantly wanted to be around their parents and had a habit of walking in at the wrong times—sort of like tonight—the door lock and the privacy curtain, which once seemed like nothing but decoration, were now used quite frequently. 

“You can’t just say something like that and then hide from me!” Regulus called out.

You smiled and peeked your head out from the partition. “Can’t I?” 

Regulus shook his head amusedly and returned to his book while you changed. Once you were done, you threw your dress in the hamper and sat on the bed next to your husband. 

“You look stunning tonight, you know that?” Regulus told you, putting down his book and turning to face you. “I love that nightgown on you.”

You rolled your eyes, but crawled even closer to him. “You like anything on me.” 

“Well, of course.” He said, reaching out and cupping your face, bringing his lips to your temple. “But you look even more gorgeous than usual tonight. It’s not just the nightgown.” 

Regulus had always been quite skilled in flattering you. But tonight, his words were so much more than that, whether he knew it or not.

You laid down, then brought one hand his dark hair, and placed the other on his chest, smoothly pulling him down so he could properly kiss you. He melted into your touch, as always, and leaned down to get as close to you as he could. 

Your husband kissed you deeply, yet sweetly. So perfect, you closed your eyes and it felt like you were floating. 

While Regulus had one arm pressed down against the mattress to keep himself up and stable on top of you, his other hand found your waist, caressing lightly and pulling you closer. 

Then that’s when you felt the rush you’d been waiting to feel all week; this was finally the moment. 

You broke the kiss and gently pushed Regulus off of you. He looked slightly concerned.  he was worried he’d accidentally done something that had upset you, but that couldn’t have been further from the case. 

Seeing it on his face and wanting to let him know everything was alright before you actually spoke, you reached out and held his hand, offering a bit of comfort and reassurance.  

You spoke quietly. And you were nervous despite having no reason to be, so you looked into his perfect stormy eyes to ease your nerves. “Regulus, my love, there’s something I need to tell you.”

And just as you opened your mouth to tell him your secret, a low knock at your bedroom door caught your attention.

You sighed and gave Regulus an apologetic look before sitting up and telling Perseus to come in. 

The door opened, and your son walked over to your bed, looking stressed. 

“What’s wrong, honey?” You inquired, holding out your hand and beckoning him over. 

“I can’t find Wilbur.” He replied sadly. 

Oh, Wilbur. He was your son’s second favourite teddy bear, beating out the third place bear by a mile. Perseus couldn’t sleep with at least his top five surrounding him in his bed, so of course it wouldn’t go unnoticed if Wilbur was missing from the group. 

Before you could respond, Regulus was already getting up and scooping the boy into his arms. “Alright, let’s go find him, Perse.”

You started to stand up as well, but Regulus looked back and told you it was alright. 

“Stay in bed, love. We’ll go on a boys trip and find that bear.” He said to you, then turned to Perseus. “We’ll be okay, won’t we?”

That seemed to help cheer him up. Perseus nodded and then looked back over at you. “Yeah, okay. Goodnight again, Mummy!”

You smiled and gave him a small wave. “Goodnight again, baby.”

Then Perseus waved to you over his father’s shoulder, and you smiled back, until he was out of the room and you were completely out of sight. 

But that’s when your smile faded quickly. You couldn’t believe you had just left the conversation with Regulus like that. Of course, neither of you could control the fact that your son needed help with something right in that moment, but you were still quietly panicking. 

You worried that your husband’s mind was racing as much as yours right now, maybe even running to dark places while wondering what you were about to tell him. 

Despite wanting to start pacing around the room in worry, you stayed in bed, just as he had so nicely told you. 

A couple minutes later, you heard footsteps nearing your room, so you tried composing yourself and wiping away any remnants of fear on your face. When Regulus walked in and closed the door behind him, he looked calm. So either he wasn’t worrying at all like you thought he would, or he just did the same thing as you a second ago. 

“Did you find the bear?” You asked him.

Regulus nodded as he walked back towards the bed. “On the couch. Just forgot to bring him up before bedtime.”

“Well, it’s good you found it.” 

There was a silent moment where neither of you knew what to say. But you finally mustered up the words and continued the conversation. 

“Um, what I was going to tell you before—”

“I know.” Regulus said sympathetically.

“Know what?” You asked, unsure if he really knew what you were about to say.

He sat down next to you and placed his hand atop yours. His gaze never broke once, despite how you had your head held, looking at your lap. “I know you’re pregnant.”

“How?” You asked, finally looking up at him again. 

“We have two kids and you still don’t know how it all happens?” He asked with wide, teasing eyes. 

You let out a giggle and rolled your eyes. You could feel all your tension fade, and you realized that was exactly his goal. Regulus was just so good at that. 

“I mean how did you know?”

Regulus acted like he was just understanding your question, which made you laugh again. He looked at you, happy the anxiety you’ve had for the last week was leaving your body. 

“You’ve been tired, the same way you were with Aurora.” He started. “Your time of the month never came. Then you’ve been acting nervous and avoidant. Plus, I can always tell when there’s something off with you. You’re my wife, I know you better than anyone.”

You sniffled. No tears just yet, but they were close. 

“And, I think you’ve already got that glow to you.”

You waved your hand dismissively, doubting his flattery this time. Regulus looked offended that you would even suggest he was lying. 

“I think you’re seeing things.”

“I’m seeing what’s right in front of me, mon ange. You’re stunning. I would never lie to you.”

Instead of responding, you leaned forward and kissed him, once again continuing where you left off before. 

Once you let go, you pressed another gentle kiss to his cheek, then another for good measure. “So you’re happy too? Even though it’s a bit sooner than we were planning?”

“Of course I’m happy. As long as you want this, so do I. A couple months difference from our plan means nothing to me.”

“Good.” You grinned. “Because I’m really excited. But I haven’t even given any thought to names yet. I wanted to wait for you.”

Regulus glanced at the clock near the bed and shrugged. “It’s not too late tonight, want to start thinking?”

You smiled at him and nodded your head. “Go get an astronomy book, my love.”

[fandomlit]

harm's way (damien haas x reader)

requested by @withered-s0u1 "So I love the angst you wrote one damien, can we make it sad again but it's his s/o who protects him from falling equipments or incorrectly placed wires o( ❛ᴗ❛ )o Honestly I LIVE off my favorite people character or otherwise with some angst! Don't forget to drink water “why did you..?” “i told you i’d do anything to keep you safe.”

warnings mentions of injury, bruising, and broken bones, a lil angsty!

hey i do writing prompts! those used in this drabble will be in bold

gif cred belongs to @haasmaxxing

"you shouldn't be back here," you warned damien when he crept into the art area where you were working on the new setup for smosh mouth. you stopped your tools as he just shrugged at you with a smile, stepping over some materials to come stand next to you.

"yeah, but then how would i see you?" he said, giving you a cheesy smile. you rolled your eyes, but leaned in when he went to kiss you, your safety goggles bumping into his face. you both laughed. "how's it going?"

"slow-going, but i always think that's a good thing," you hummed, hands on your hips. "it means we're paying attention to detail. that we actually care how it looks."

"yeah, unlike other sets you work on around here," damien joked, give you a dramatic, wide-eye looked that made you nudge his arm and laugh. he was about to say something else when alex's voice yelled out.

"hey- look out!"

you were at full attention immediately, whipping your gaze to see a portion of the set had been knocked loose by someone before it could be properly secured, one of the heavy metal bars meant to secure the curtains hurtling toward you and damien. in a flash, you were pushing damien out of the way while also trying to knock the bar away, and the heavy metal caught part of your hip before landing on your foot. you swore, quickly snatching your foot from under the weighted bar.

"y/n! i am so sorry!" josie called, rushing toward where you were hopping on your good foot. "i knocked the set on accident--i'm so sorry!"

"i'm good," you huffed out as damien took you in his arms, letting you lean against him as he stared at you in shock. "i'll be good." but the rest of the art crew was now crowded around and the ache started to settle in your foot. you collapsed more into damien, your face twisted in a cringe as tears pricked your eyes.

"okay, don't crowd," erin spoke, breaking through your coworkers and their worried words. she waved everyone off, including a teary-eyed josie, as damien helped you lower to sit on the ground. "it's your foot?"

you nodded, tears unwillingly streaming down your face. "hit my hip, too," you cringed, hand pressing to the side of your leg.

damien was too shocked to speak. fortunately, erin knew what to do, “okay, when you can, take your shoe off so we can take a look. i’ll run and get some ice.” she scurried away and damien squeezed your shoulders wordlessly before moving to gently remove your shoe.

your face twisted in a cringe. damien laid his hand on your knee as he slipped your sock off and you moved your hand to grip his tightly. he squeezed back silently.

fortunately, the hit to your hip had lessened the brutality of the hit to your foot. while you were already bruising, and it was likely that the top of your foot had been fractured, it didn't seem to be anything too serious.

"you should get to urgent care as soon as you can to make sure nothing broke," erin instructed as she handed a small bag of ice to damien. when you went to protest, she said, "seriously, we don't want to be waving this off if it's worse than we think."

you huffed out a sigh as you wiped the tears from your face. “yeah.. okay.” damien pressed a kiss to the side of your head and slipped his arms underneath of you, lifting you easily while being careful of your hip.

“you two take the rest of the day,” erin spoke. “i’ll make sure everyone knows. keep us posted on what the doctor says.”

“thank you, erin,” damien spoke for the first time since you pushed him out of the way.

“you’re holding me like i’m made of glass,” you muttered with a sniff as damien carried you into the office to grab his keys. he just placed another kiss to your head, nodding to his friends as they stared concernedly.

after you had been examined and x-rayed, you were told that your foot had been fractured. they placed you in a boot and prescribed you some pain killers with strict orders of rest and ice. damien held your hand nearly every step of the way.

once you had been discharged and a new pair of crutches were loaded into the backseat, damien sat with his hands on the steering wheel, feeling like his mind was finally recovering from the shock. not even two hours ago he was walking into the set to bug you. but what if he hadn’t been there? would you have been hurt worse had you not been standing there talking to him? or would you have been able to avoid it completely had he not been distracting you?

“are you okay?” you asked quietly, shifting your boot uncomfortably.

if he wasn’t still feeling slightly panicked, damien would’ve laughed at the irony of the question; his very injured partner was asking if he was okay because he was a little ruffled. “yeah, yeah, i’m just.. in shock, i think. that all happened so fast.” you nodded with a tight smile. he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your lips. “i’m glad nothing’s broken. but, why did you..?”

you looked at damien with a furrowed brow. “what? push you out of the way?” he nodded. “damien, i told you once that i would do anything to keep you safe. that wasn’t an empty promise.” his heart leapt and he leaned forward again to press a longer, sweeter kiss to your lips.

“i’m just worried i distracted you and that’s why you’re hurt,” he spoke honestly. you opened your mouth and he said, “i know, i shouldn’t play the blame game, but i hate that you’re hurt.” you took damien’s hand and squeezed it.

“i know,” you said quietly, “and your concern means the world to me. but, really, don’t blame yourself. i’m around that kind of stuff every day—this was just the unlucky time.” you leaned forward to give him another kiss, squeezing his hand again. “i’ll be alright. now let’s go home so you can cuddle me and i can make you carry me everywhere.”

damien let out a chuckle, squeezing your hand once more as he felt some tension seep from his body. “i’ll be the best nurse you’ve ever had, my girl.” you giggled and he began to back out of the urgent care, placing a hand on the back of your seat as he looked over his shoulder. “besides, way too many people have looked at your feet today. i was starting to feel like i’m not special anymore.” you laughed again and he winked at you.

you may have gotten yourself hurt, but at least damien hadn’t. and you wouldn’t want to have anyone else at your side while you healed.

[xx-dinah-writing-xx]

Hi! Love your writing! Would love to see a Matt x reader platonic in which she is a young actress on HOTD and it’s her first role. He really helps her and becomes some what of a mentor/father figure

thx luv

Wig, Sword, and a Granola Bar

Matt Smith x reader fluff

A/N: Hi!! Sooo you probably thought I wasn’t gonna write this request… Surprise! Here I am, in my full glory, with another Matt one-shot 💅🏻 (Yeah yeah, I should probably get to those Tom requests too… oh well.) Anyway, enjoy this dad-like Matthew with reader. Since, you know, they’re usually dating in my fics. Or doing… other suspicious activities 👀 See you soon, babes! 💋

————

The first time you met Matt Smith, you were trying not to vomit into your costume.

You were in full wig, corset, and dragon-leather boots, pacing tight little figure-eights behind the soundstage, palms clammy and jaw clenched. The scene was simple enough. You only had three lines, one of which was “Yes, my prince,” but it was your very first day, your first television role, and House of the Dragon was not the type of show where you could afford to suck.

You were already convinced they’d made a mistake casting you. Some intern in casting must have clicked the wrong headshot. Maybe someone would shout “cut” mid-scene and then gently inform you that, regrettably, the part had been meant for someone with actual talent. Maybe Olivia Cooke would blink and ask, “What is she doing here?”

Then a voice behind you said, conversationally, “You look like you’re about to faint or bite someone.”

You whirled so quickly you nearly toppled sideways in your boots, and there he was. In all his platinum-haired, steely-eyed, slightly insane-looking glory. Matt Smith, in costume and in character, though with a wry little smirk that didn’t look particularly Targaryen.

Your brain short-circuited.

“Oh God,” you breathed.

“Not quite,” he said, peering at you as though inspecting a particularly twitchy squirrel. “Matt. Daemon. Some unholy hybrid of both. You must be the new girl.”

You nodded, struck momentarily mute.

He tilted his head. “You’ve got that first-scene terror. Classic. Sweaty palms? Shaky legs? Slight urge to piss yourself?”

“...All of the above,” you admitted.

Matt clapped his hands together once, far too cheerfully for a man in full medieval war garb. “Brilliant. It means you care. Come on. Walk with me.”

You had no idea why you obeyed, but you did. He guided you away from the soundstage, past a techie eating a sausage roll and a pair of dragons (well, motion-capture rigs shaped vaguely like dragons), into a quieter corner of the set where someone had set up folding chairs and a sad little table with lukewarm tea. Matt collapsed into one of the chairs like an old man whose back had betrayed him, legs sprawled and wig slightly askew.

“You're shaking like a leaf,” he said, watching you perch awkwardly opposite him. “Did you train in theatre?”

You nodded. “A bit. Small stuff. Nothing like this.”

“That’s alright,” he said. “TV's a different beast. Less forgiving lighting. You can’t hear your own voice echoing around a theatre, so it always feels like you’re whispering. And the camera’s a nosy little sod, so it’ll catch everything. But that’s the fun of it.”

You blinked at him. “I think I’m going to cry.”

Matt smiled. “Then do it in character and make the director cry too. That’s the trick. Make your breakdown useful.”

He handed you a crumpled granola bar from the pocket of his robe.

From that moment, something shifted. You didn’t become instantly confident, but you did survive your first scene without tripping over your boots or faceplanting into Milly Alcock. And after that, Matt became something like your unofficial on-set handler. It wasn’t even formal mentorship. It was just that he decided he was going to look after you, and then he did.

He’d turn up beside you before rehearsals, quietly running lines while peeling an orange with an intensity that made it look like the fruit had personally wronged him. He once showed up at your trailer with a half-broken DVD of Doctor Who, flopped onto your sofa, and announced, “It’s important you understand what you’re dealing with. This is me in peak chaos mode. I had better hair then. Not Daemon hair. But hair.”

You asked him once why he’d decided to take you under his wing. He was driving you both back from a night shoot in his slightly-too-expensive car, humming to ABBA and sipping black coffee from a flask that had definitely not been washed properly in months.

“Because you remind me of me,” he said after a moment.

You looked at him, baffled. “How?”

“You’re all wiry nerves and unspent energy. You flinch like someone’s going to tell you to go home any second. That was me for years. Still is, sometimes.”

There was a long pause.

“Also,” he added, “your first week, you fell asleep on my shoulder between takes and then denied it. And I thought, yes, this one is mine now. This feral gremlin belongs to me.”

You groaned and buried your face in your hands. “I thought I hallucinated that.”

“Nope. Snored a bit too.”

You threw an empty crisp packet at him. He dodged, nearly swerved into a hedgerow, and shouted, “Attempted murder!” like you’d pulled a dagger.

Your friendship with Matt settled into a strange, perfect rhythm after that. He became your biggest cheerleader, even when you didn’t believe in yourself. He’d bark exaggerated applause after a good take, scream “Oscar-worthy!” in a tone of high sarcasm that somehow still made you proud. Once, when you cried after a rough day of reshoots, he sat beside you in the greenroom, took off his wig, and balanced it on your head until you laughed through the tears.

You got into the habit of calling him “Dad” in jest, which horrified the crew and delighted him. He responded by introducing himself at Comic-Con as “her deeply unqualified stage parent,” and referring to you as “my emotionally volatile adopted child” in interviews. You retaliated by putting a “World’s Okayest Father” mug in his trailer and photoshopping his face onto various dad meme formats.

Sometimes he gave actual useful advice too. He taught you how to cry without clenching your jaw, how to hit your mark without looking for it, how to talk to the director without sounding apologetic for existing. He made you practice stillness, “the kind that isn’t boring,” as he put it. He warned you about burnout, about the loneliness of hotels, about critics and the internet and the weird vacuum of fame.

But mostly, Matt gave you space to be ridiculous. He let you flop dramatically across chairs, scream your frustrations into costume pillows, eat marshmallows in your trailer while whining about dialogue. He never made you feel small for being new. If anything, he seemed to find your youthful panic endearing.

The night your first episode aired, he made you come over to his flat with a bottle of cheap champagne and two pizzas. You spent the whole hour nervously pacing and cringing at your own face, while Matt hooted with laughter, threw popcorn at the TV, and yelled “look, it’s my brilliant little goblin!” every time you appeared.

You fell asleep on his sofa again, this time wrapped in a blanket that smelled vaguely of dog and old cologne. When you woke up, he’d scribbled “You did brilliantly” on a sticky note and left it on your forehead.

You never thought you’d find family in this industry. You expected competition, backstabbing, maybe the occasional fake friend. But you found Matt Smith, with his dumb wigs, brilliant mind, and deeply chaotic warmth. You found the weird, tender, hilarious, utterly unexpected bond between a young actress and a man who used to play the Doctor.

And when people asked you what your favorite thing was about working on House of the Dragon, you never said dragons or swords or red carpets.

You just said, “Matt Smith. No question. He’s the best fake dad I’ve ever had.”

[fuqnia]

Hello, I LOVED Most Wanted, and I was wondering if the sequel will be out anytime soon?

Also, I saw that your requests were open, and I was wondering if you could write for Kenny?

Thank you! <3

Mysterion: Halfway Home

✘ kenny mccormick x gn!reader insert | HS au, angst

✘ A/N | hello everyone!! sorry for the radio silence lately, i've just been overwhelmed recently. i've been wanting to take a break from the smut, and just write something not smut LOLOL, plus i want to get back into doing requests!!!

this is a rewrite of a previous oneshot that i've published, as i've been really into the tfbw (cough cough spiderman) au lately. maybe i will make this into a proper series... who knows... (i probably will. i have chapters written already,)

for the Most Wanted sequel, it'll probably come out sometime next year! <3 ty for y'alls patience.

✘ C/W | blood, arguing, angst, kissing

✘ Synopsis | mysterion was never just a rumor—not to you. not when the boy behind the mask is kenny, your childhood best friend, the one you’ve loved for longer than you’re willing to admit. so when he crashes through your window, bleeding and broken, you don’t hesitate. but the more he hides behind half-truths and stitched-up lies, the harder it is to keep pretending that love alone will be enough to save him.

You were in the middle of changing when the world decided to go to absolute shit.

The hoodie you were pulling over your head got caught on something, your jeans were halfway up your thighs, and your door was thankfully locked — not that it ended up mattering. Because right as you were about to yank your hoodie free, your window clattered open with a horrible, scraping sound that made your entire spine seize up. You froze, heartbeat spiking. You didn’t even have time to scream before something — someone — dropped into your room with a heavy grunt and a series of muffled curses.

You shrieked anyway, flailing backward and nearly slamming your head on your dresser as you tripped over the pile of clothes on the floor. Your jeans, still around your thighs, tangled you up like a damn cartoon character. You hit the carpet hard, ass-first, blinking in shock. For a split second, you were convinced you were about to die. Someone had broken into your room, and you were going to die half-naked and screaming.

Then you heard it.

Laughter.

Wheezing, out-of-breath, completely unapologetic laughter.

“Holy shit, dude,” came a voice you’d recognize anywhere — rough, a little hoarse, laced with amusement and something smug. “You should’ve seen your face.”

“Kenny?!” you shouted, voice cracking with rage and residual terror.

Still doubled over, the bastard held his ribs and laughed harder, finally collapsing into a crouch against your desk like he’d just run a marathon. You scrambled to your feet, yanking your jeans up in one furious motion and finally managing to get the hoodie over your head. Your entire face burned with embarrassment and fury.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?! Why are you in my window like some methhead raccoon?!”

Kenny wiped tears from his eyes, coughing as he tried to catch his breath. His hood — not his usual orange one, you realized with a start — was pulled low over his eyes, and a ragged piece of black fabric hung off his shoulders like a makeshift cape. His clothes were wrecked: dirt, blood, duct tape, and something that looked a lot like dried puke crusted across his left sleeve.

“Oh my God,” you said, your voice dropping from fury to horror. “You’re bleeding.”

That was when the smell hit you — blood, sweat, wet asphalt. It punched the air out of your lungs.

“Yeah,” he muttered, trying to straighten up but clearly struggling. “Kinda got my ass handed to me.”

You took a step closer, ignoring the mess you were in the middle of before he barged in. The second you really looked at him, your stomach dropped. His lip was busted open, his left eye already swelling shut, and his side... Jesus Christ. His shirt was soaked through with dark, sticky blood, and the gash on his side looked deep enough to need stitches. He reeked of alleyways and pain and whatever the hell he’d been fighting.

“You look like shit,” you muttered, heart pounding for a whole different reason now.

He grinned, and even half-beaten to hell, it was the same cocky-ass grin that always made you want to smack him and kiss him at the same time. “Yeah, well. You should see the other guy.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re—why the fuck didn’t you go to the ER?!”

“Couldn’t.” He leaned against your dresser, leaving a streak of blood on the wood you were definitely not getting out. “Didn’t want to deal with cops asking questions. Plus, y’know... don’t exactly have health insurance.”

You stared at him like he’d lost his damn mind — which, judging by the outfit and the blood loss, might not be far from the truth. “Kenny, you came into my room dressed like—what the fuck even is this? A cosplay? Are you having some kind of Batman breakdown?!”

That earned a weak chuckle. “Nah. Nothing like that. Just... trying to help out. Thought I could handle it.”

“Handle what? You get jumped behind Raisins or something?”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes flicked toward the floor, that familiar grin fading just a little. That’s when it hit you — this wasn’t Kenny fucking around like usual. He hadn’t climbed through your window to get laid or pull a dumb prank. He came here because he didn’t have anywhere else to go.

Your anger cooled so fast it left you shivering.

“Come on,” you muttered, grabbing his arm gently and guiding him toward your bed. “Sit down before you pass out and bleed on everything.”

“Aw, you do care,” he teased, but his voice was quieter now. He followed without protest, his weight sagging against you in a way that scared the hell out of you. Kenny was usually all wiry tension and reckless energy. Now he was just... tired.

You helped him sit on the edge of the bed, then crossed to your bathroom for the first-aid kit and a towel. When you came back, he’d peeled off the cape — if you could call it that — and was gingerly unzipping his hoodie.

You flinched when you saw what was underneath.

His side was a mess of bruises and an angry red gash that stretched across his ribs like someone had tried to carve him open with a box cutter. His chest was already blooming with purple, and there were more cuts along his arms, some shallow, others not.

“Jesus,” you breathed, kneeling beside him with the kit. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Didn’t think it’d go that bad,” he muttered, sucking in a sharp breath when you pressed gauze to his side. “Thought I’d scare 'em off. Didn’t count on getting jumped by three guys and a Rottweiler.”

“A fucking dog bit you?!”

“Well, technically it missed. But it tried, which is worse.”

You shook your head, trying not to laugh even as your hands moved fast and careful. You cleaned the wound, stitched what you could, bandaged the rest. Kenny flinched but didn’t complain, just watched you with something quieter in his eyes than usual — something raw and real and kind of vulnerable in a way you weren’t used to seeing.

“You’re lucky I don’t kick your ass for this,” you muttered, tying off a bandage.

“I’d let you,” he said, smirking again. “But only if you promise to do it while you’re half-naked like earlier. That shit was hot.”

You groaned, tossing a bloody rag at his face. “You’re disgusting.”

“You like that I’m disgusting,” he said, catching the rag one-handed and winking with the eye that wasn’t swollen half-shut. His smirk was still cocky, but it had softened just enough to betray how much pain he was hiding under the act — the way his jaw tensed when he moved, the wince he tried to mask when he adjusted his posture on the bed. That didn’t stop him from being a smartass, though. If anything, it made him worse.

Your hand was already in motion to shove him in the shoulder — pure instinct, that knee-jerk reaction to every dumbass thing that came out of his mouth — but you froze midway, your palm hovering inches from his arm. You remembered too fast the bruises you'd just cleaned, the stitches you’d yanked tight in his side. Even if you wanted to slap the grin off his face, you couldn’t. Not when he looked like he’d gotten thrown down a flight of stairs and then mugged by a dumpster.

You dropped your hand, frustration curling tight in your chest, but before you could stop yourself, your mouth took off like a firecracker. “You’re fucking impossible, dude. I mean—do you ever stop to think?! What if I wasn’t here? What if you'd passed out somewhere in the street like—like roadkill?! You could’ve fucking died, you reckless asshole!”

You were pacing now, hands in your hair, voice building with every word. But then you turned toward him, ready to keep going, and caught sight of his face.

That shut you up.

The bruises were bad, but it was his expression that stopped you cold. His smirk had faded almost entirely, lips parted like he wanted to fire back but couldn’t find the breath to. There was a flicker in his eyes — not fear, not guilt — but exhaustion, deep and old, etched into the lines around his mouth and the tightness in his brow. His whole body sagged like he’d been running on fumes and just now realized it.

You took a breath, forced your shoulders to relax. “Okay,” you said, quieter now, the sharpness in your voice dissolving. You stepped toward him again, kneeling in front of where he sat hunched on your bed. He didn’t look up at first, but when he did, his eyes met yours without the usual shield of snark.

“Go take a shower,” you said, voice steady but gentle. You reached out, resting your hand lightly on his knee — grounding him, grounding yourself. “You stink like blood and piss and burnt rubber. And you’re still covered in grime. I’ll grab you a change of clothes, and I’ll... I’ll wash all this.”

You nodded toward the ruined pile of hoodie and cape beside him. “I’ll even fix it if I can. Sew up whatever’s left. It’s not like that thing’s going in the laundry.”

He stared at you for a second, blinking like he was trying to make sure you’d actually said it. His lips quirked up again, but it wasn’t one of those bullshit grins he wore like armor.

“Didn’t know you were a domestic deity, babe,” he said, rasping the word with a flicker of the old teasing tone, but without the usual smugness.

You rolled your eyes and stood up. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. You bleed on my carpet again and I’m throwing your ass out the window.”

Kenny chuckled and stood with a groan, one hand pressed to his ribs. You steadied him when he swayed, your hands gripping his arms just tight enough to hold him steady without making it worse. You could feel the heat radiating off his skin, sticky with dried sweat and dried blood, the aftermath of whatever war he’d waged tonight.

He looked at you, eyes darker than usual, the bruising around them making his gaze seem heavier. “Thanks,” he said, quietly. Not a joke. Not a flirt. Just... thanks.

You nodded, jaw tight. “Bathroom’s through there. Towels under the sink. Don’t take twenty years.”

He made his way slowly across the room, limping slightly, each step uneven and careful. Just before he disappeared through the door, he glanced back over his shoulder.

“Try not to sniff my underwear while I’m in there.”

“Fuck off.”

The bathroom door shut behind him with a soft click.

As soon as he was out of sight, you turned toward the mess he’d left — bloody hoodie, weird-ass cape, torn jeans that looked like they’d been through a paper shredder. You gathered them up with a sigh, your fingers brushing over the material. Cheap, rough, makeshift. It was all duct tape and desperation, stitched together with barely-concealed fury and whatever scraps he could steal or salvage. And now you were holding it, smelling the blood and sweat and street dirt baked into the fabric, and realizing you were probably the only person who knew he had it at all.

He hadn’t gone to a hospital.

He hadn’t gone to Kyle’s, or Stan’s, or even fucking Cartman’s.

He came here.

To you.

You clenched your jaw, grabbed the sewing kit from your desk drawer, and set to work.

The fabric was a nightmare — cheap and torn in a dozen different ways, some of it singed, some of it caked with blood and grime. The cape was barely salvageable; it looked like it had been ripped straight off a Halloween clearance rack and then dragged through a warzone. Still, your fingers moved with practiced focus, threading the needle and patching up the worst of it. You weren’t exactly a professional, but growing up with a half-functioning washing machine and clothes that lasted through sheer force of will had taught you a thing or two. Your stitches were rough, uneven in places, but solid enough to hold.

As you worked, your thoughts swirled around everything you hadn’t been able to say to him.

You weren’t dumb. This wasn’t just some one-off night where Kenny got into trouble with a couple of burnouts behind the liquor store. You’d seen it creeping in for months now — the way he’d limp into school some mornings, looking like he hadn’t slept, orange hoodie hiding more than just his usual slouch. When he showed up at all, he looked like hell. Purple shadows under his eyes, bandaged fingers, scratches on his neck he didn’t bother to explain. He’d make some offhand joke, something about getting into a fight with a raccoon or falling off his roof again, but there was always something behind his smile — tightness in his jaw, a flicker of tension in his shoulders, like he was carrying more than he’d ever admit.

Karen had mentioned it too — quiet, almost scared. You’d been walking her home from school when she tugged on your sleeve and asked if you thought Kenny was okay. Said he’d been coming home late, sometimes limping, always acting like nothing happened. Told her not to worry, that he was probably just being his usual dumbass self. But now, with your hands stitching up what looked like a DIY superhero costume soaked in blood, you weren’t so sure anymore.

Even the guys had noticed. Kyle cornered you in chem once, muttering that Kenny was “being sketchy as hell lately.” Butters kept trying to ask him if he needed help with anything, which Kenny always brushed off with a grin and some gross joke. And Cartman, in his usual way, made it weird and loud — called Kenny "Batman for poor people" in front of half the cafeteria. But beneath the mockery, even Cartman had looked... unsettled. Stan hadn’t said much, but he’d given you a look after school one day — eyebrows tight, arms crossed — the kind of look that said you see it too, right?

You finished the last row of stitches, tied off the thread, and sat back, hands cramped, stomach turning. Whatever the hell Kenny had gotten himself into — it wasn’t some random accident. It was real. It was deliberate. And it was getting worse.

The sound of the water shutting off in the bathroom snapped you out of your thoughts.

You stood up quickly, not wanting him to come out naked and dripping blood all over your hallway like some gremlin. You grabbed a spare set of clothes — soft, old stuff you didn’t wear anymore: loose black sweatpants, an oversized band tee with a faded logo, and some fresh boxers you’d bought once for sleepovers that never happened. You knocked lightly on the bathroom door, voice low.

“Clothes are outside the door. Try not to bleed on these.”

No answer, but you heard movement — the soft sound of wet feet against tile, the creak of him leaning toward the door. You left the pile just outside and returned to your room, dropping into your chair and brushing loose threads off your lap. The cape and hoodie were folded now, stitched up, not perfect but wearable. You’d scrubbed off the worst of the grime, and it didn’t smell like a corpse anymore. You laid it across your desk and stared at it, wondering who the hell Kenny thought he was helping. And why the fuck he thought he had to do it alone.

The door creaked open a minute later, and you looked up just in time to see him step into your room again.

He looked... different. Not just cleaner, but disarmed. The clothes hung off him a little, but they were dry and warm, and his skin wasn’t gray and blood-streaked anymore. His hair was wet and stuck to his forehead in lazy strands. His bruises were still angry and dark, stitched bandages visible under the loose collar of your shirt. But there was something in his face now that hadn’t been there earlier — not quite relief, but a kind of quiet awareness, like he’d dropped whatever mask he usually wore around people.

He glanced at the patched-up hoodie on your desk and whistled low.

“Damn. You really fixed it.” His voice was hoarse, stripped of the usual performative sleaze. “Didn’t think you’d actually bother.”

You crossed your arms, staring at him hard. “I didn’t do it for you. I did it because it was disgusting, and I wasn’t letting it sit in my room like a rotting squirrel.”

A half-smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Sure, babe. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You didn’t smile back. You didn’t look away either.

Kenny shifted under your stare, stepping further into your room with that slow, lazy saunter he always used — like nothing was ever a big deal, like the world could be burning down around him and he’d still take his time lighting a cigarette. But you could tell it was a front now. His hands were shoved into the pockets of the sweatpants, shoulders still tense, jaw tight beneath the smirk. His eyes scanned the room like he was looking for something to anchor himself to, but his gaze never settled.

“Are you gonna explain,” you said, voice flat, low — not quite angry, not yet — “or are you just gonna stand there looking like the world’s most fucked-up Party City model?”

Kenny snorted, that crooked grin twitching back onto his face. “Damn, babe, didn’t know you were into tortured vigilantes. Should I growl about justice next time I climb through your window?”

You stood up so fast the chair legs scraped against the floor. “Don’t,” you snapped. “Don’t fucking joke right now.”

He blinked at you, the smirk faltering.

“I’m serious, Kenny. Everyone’s noticed. You’re limping into school with bruises that don’t come from falling off your shitty bike. You disappear for days. Karen’s worried sick, Kyle thinks you’re on meth, even Cartman—Cartman, of all people—said you’re acting like a ‘hobo with a God complex.’ You think you’re being sneaky, but you’re not. You look like a walking crime scene half the time. So no, I’m not laughing. I want to know what the hell is going on with you. Right now.”

Kenny didn’t meet your eyes.

Instead, he walked over to your desk and ran a hand over the patched-up hoodie and cape like he was stalling for time. His fingers traced the new stitches, the places where you’d done your best to hold it together — like that stupid thing mattered more than your question.

“I’m fine,” he said, quietly.

You stared at him, chest tight. “Fine?”

He shrugged. “I’m just... busy. Shit’s been rough at home. You know how it is.”

“Don’t do that.” Your voice cracked, the pressure in your throat building fast. “Don’t lie to me. Don’t give me that vague bullshit like I’m some stranger you’re trying to get rid of.”

“I’m not lying,” he said, but even he didn’t sound convinced. He dropped into your chair, arms crossed, one knee bouncing in that way he did when he was anxious and pretending not to be. “I’m just not dumping everything on you, alright? You got your own shit, dude.”

You took two steps forward, and the next words came out before you could stop them. “Then get the fuck out.”

His head jerked up. “What?”

“If you’re not gonna be real with me, if you’re gonna keep acting like I’m some random hookup or a pit stop between whatever insane crusade you’re on, then go. I’m not your nurse, I’m not your free laundry service, and I’m definitely not gonna sit here and watch you kill yourself for whatever the hell this is.”

You didn’t shout. You didn’t scream. But the weight in your voice was louder than any of that.

Kenny stared at you for a long time, the bounce in his knee slowing to a stop. He looked tired again. More than tired. Like someone who’d been holding his breath for years and just realized he still wasn’t allowed to exhale.

He rubbed his hand down his face, dragging it across the swollen side of his jaw. “Look... it’s not, like, one thing. Okay? It’s not like I woke up one day and thought, ‘Hey, you know what’d be fun? Bleeding in alleys and getting kicked in the ribs by guys named Snake.’ It just... started. There’s shit going on in town. Bad shit. Stuff the cops won’t touch. People getting hurt, kids going missing, all that conspiracy-theory crap people laugh off? It’s real. It’s happening.”

He looked up at you, his voice low now, almost a whisper. “So I started stopping it. Bit by bit. Nothing crazy. At first.”

You sat down on the bed again, slowly. Not because you didn’t want to explode all over again, but because your legs suddenly felt unsteady, like the truth was finally starting to land. “So you’re—what? Some kind of underground superhero?”

He smirked, weakly. “More like a glorified janitor for the city’s bullshit.”

You waited. He didn’t keep talking.

“That’s it?” you said, your voice sharp with disbelief. “That’s all I get? You give me half a monologue and expect me to just smile and nod like it’s totally normal for you to show up dressed like off-brand Batman, covered in blood?”

“I told you the truth.”

“No, you told me the safe version,” you shot back. “You filtered it. You cut out all the parts you don’t want me to know.”

Kenny looked away.

That was the thing that broke you.

Because you knew him. You knew every version of him — the reckless flirt, the smartass who made dick jokes in history class, the guy who gave Karen the last pancake even when he was starving. You knew when he was lying to teachers, to the cops, to Cartman. But this was the first time you could feel him lying to you.

Your throat closed up, eyes stinging, and before you could even think to stop them, tears spilled over and ran hot down your cheeks.

You didn’t sob. You didn’t wail. You just cried quietly, fists clenched in your lap, shoulders hunched forward like you could fold into yourself and make it stop.

Kenny froze. “Hey, hey—babe—”

“Don’t,” you said, voice shaking. “Don’t call me that like it fixes anything.”

He stood up, limped toward you. “Look, I just—”

“No.” You wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand, frustrated, furious, humiliated. “You think you’re doing this noble thing, right? Like you’re saving the world in secret and protecting the people you love by lying to them. You think you’re being a hero. But you’re not. You’re just pushing everyone away and pretending it’s for their own good.”

You looked up at him, eyes red and wet. “Do you think I want you bleeding out in some alley because you didn’t trust me enough to ask for help?”

He didn’t answer.

And that silence shattered what little you were still holding together. You cried harder, your breath hitching in your throat as the tears came down faster — hot, ugly, uncontrollable. You clenched your fists so hard your nails dug into your palms, biting your lip until you could taste copper. Every emotion hit you all at once — rage, betrayal, heartbreak — and it spilled out in the only way it could.

“So it’s you,” you said, your voice choked but cutting through the silence. “You’re the so-called vigilante everyone’s been talking about. The guy all over the fucking news — ‘Mysterion’ or whatever the hell they’re calling you. The one who’s been showing up at crime scenes and stopping break-ins and getting the shit beat out of him. You saved that kid on the highway. You pulled people out of that fire behind the bowling alley. You—”

Your voice cracked. “You saved me that night behind the 7-Eleven when those assholes wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Kenny started to open his mouth, a quiet, hoarse sound on his lips, but you cut him off with a glare so sharp it could’ve drawn blood.

“I’ve known you since we were kids,” you snapped. “I know the way you fake sleep in class so teachers stop calling on you. I know the difference between your ‘I’m fine’ and your ‘I’m bleeding internally.’ I know how you always pretend you’re okay, because if you don’t, someone else might realize you’re not and then it’ll make it real.”

You stood up, fists trembling at your sides.

“You came here, Kenny. Out of everyone — Cartman, Kyle, Butters, even your own fucking sister — you climbed through my window half-dead, covered in blood, and collapsed on my bed. So don’t stand there and act like this is no big deal. Don’t pretend I don’t mean something to you when you clearly trust me more than anyone else. So why—why the fuck can’t you just be honest with me?”

He didn’t speak.

Instead, he walked slowly toward you, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a tightness in his jaw like he was grinding down words he didn’t trust himself to say. His bruised face was tense, but his hands were soft when he reached for you, wrapping them around your shoulders, pulling you in like he was terrified you might shove him away.

You melted into him the moment his arms came around you, pressing your face against his chest, your sobs muffled by the cotton of your own t-shirt — now clinging to his warm, battered body. He smelled like soap now, faintly like blood still, but under it all was the scent that had always been there — hints of himself. He rested his chin lightly on the top of your head and rubbed slow circles into your back, whispering quiet, broken things that didn’t quite form sentences — apologies, your name, maybe just the sound of his breath stalling with guilt.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t want to drag you into this. I didn’t want to put you in danger. You don’t get it — if they knew—”

“You think I care about danger?” you shot back, voice muffled but fierce. “You think watching you destroy yourself is any easier than being part of it? I’ve watched you limp through life your whole goddamn existence and pretend you’re fine because everyone else just expects you to take it.”

You pulled back, looking up at him through tear-blurred eyes, your expression twisted with heartbreak and defiance. “I’m not everyone else, Kenny. I love you.”

The second the words left your mouth, the air between you changed. They didn’t explode out of you in some dramatic confession — they slipped, quiet and ragged, like they’d been waiting there in your throat for years and finally found a way out. You didn’t try to take them back. You didn’t give him a second to speak, to make a joke, to soften the blow with another stupid line about how ‘hot’ your rage was.

Instead, you pushed forward, your heart pounding so hard it drowned out your better judgment, your pride, your fear. “You think I’m just gonna stand here and say ‘I love you’ and then go on like that doesn’t fucking mean something? You think I’m saying that for fun? You’re out there getting torn up night after night, bleeding into my sheets, and you think it doesn’t destroy me to see you like this?”

Your voice cracked, sharp and raw, but you didn’t stop. The tears came again, not soft this time but hot and furious — the kind that left your face aching and your lungs burning. “What happens if one night you don’t make it back through my window, Kenny? What happens when you’re not just limping — when you don’t get to limp at all? When some bastard puts a bullet in your chest and no one finds your body because no one even knows what the fuck you’re doing?!”

You jabbed your finger toward him, your whole body shaking with rage you didn’t know how to hold. “What happens to Karen?! Have you even thought about her?! You’re all she has. You die out there playing this self-sacrificing bullshit role, and what, she ends up in foster care? Living with your drunk-ass parents? She deserves better than that. You deserve better than that!”

You took a staggering breath, your voice rising as your fists clenched at your sides. “And I love you. I love you so much it makes me sick, because every time I see you in the halls, I know you’re lying to everyone’s face and pretending you’re okay, and I can’t do anything about it. Every time you smile, I see it. I see how tired you are. I see how close you are to breaking. And it fucking kills me, because I want to help you. I want to carry it with you. And you won’t let me.”

Your throat was torn raw now, but you kept going, a scream wrapped in a whisper. “I love you, Kenny. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone, and if you don’t—"

Before the next word could leave your mouth, Kenny grabbed your face in both hands and kissed you. Like he’d fall apart if he didn’t touch you right then. Hard. Desperate. Like kissing you was the only way to stop from shattering. His mouth crashed against yours with so much intensity it startled the breath out of your lungs, and your rant died instantly, cut off mid-sentence as the world narrowed to the heat of his lips and the grip of his hands.

He kissed you like he’d been starving for it, like the weight of everything he’d never said was breaking loose all at once and this was the only language left to him. His fingers threaded through your hair, tugging gently, and you leaned into it, into him, like the only solid thing left in the world was his body pressed tight against yours.

You kissed him back with every ounce of pain and love that had been festering under your skin. You poured everything into it — the sleepless nights, the waiting, the watching, the aching hope that he’d finally see you the way you saw him. Your hands clutched the sides of his shirt, holding him like you were afraid he’d vanish if you let go.

When Kenny finally pulled away, he didn’t go far. His forehead rested against yours, his breath still shaky, lips swollen, eyes half-lidded and glassy like he was barely holding himself together. You were still catching your breath, mouth parted to speak, to say something — maybe something soft, maybe something angry — but he beat you to it.

“Well,” he muttered, voice hoarse, a lazy grin ghosting across his mouth, “that wasn’t exactly the worst way I’ve ever been yelled at.”

His attempt at humor hit like a bruise. Not because it wasn’t funny — maybe on a better day it would’ve made you roll your eyes and nudge him in the ribs — but because of the way he said it. The way his voice cracked halfway through. The way he smiled like he was trying to distract you from the fact that he looked like he hadn’t slept in days, maybe weeks.

Before you could respond, he reached down, laced his fingers with yours, and tugged you toward the bed with more force than you expected. “Come on,” he muttered. “I’m too fucking tired to do this on my feet.”

You let him pull you, stumbling a little as he dragged both of you across the room. When he dropped onto the mattress, he didn’t give you a chance to hesitate — he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you down with him, maneuvering the blanket over both of you like it was muscle memory. You protested for half a second, not because you didn’t want this, but because it felt surreal — like it was too tender, too quiet after everything that had just exploded out of you. But then his body pressed against yours — solid, warm — and the fight left you.

He curled himself around you with the instinct of someone who had gone too long without comfort, like if he didn’t have you within reach, the world might cave in again. One of his hands rested flat against your stomach, fingers splayed wide, like he was grounding himself through your heartbeat. His face pressed against the back of your neck, lips brushing your skin when he spoke.

“You can be mad,” he whispered, so quietly you barely heard it. “You have every right to be. I’m a lying, selfish dick and you deserve better than all this cryptic bullshit.”

You didn’t respond, just breathed slow, staring at the wall in the low light of your room.

“But I’m not trying to push you away. I’m trying to keep you safe,” he continued. “There are things happening that you don’t know about yet. I swear I’ll tell you — everything. Just… not tonight. Not when people are still looking for me, not when my face is probably on a fucking police scanner, and not when telling you could put you in someone’s crosshairs.”

His grip on you tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make sure you were still there, that you hadn’t slipped out of his reach. “Soon. When it’s safe. When I’m not dragging you into something that could get you hurt or worse. Just give me a little more time.”

His words weren’t smooth or rehearsed. They were rough around the edges, spoken through clenched teeth and exhaustion. But they were honest. For once, he wasn’t hiding behind jokes or avoiding eye contact or pretending nothing was wrong. He was just Kenny — raw, scared, and trying like hell to hold onto the one thing in his life that didn’t feel like it was slipping through his fingers.

ik mysterion is heavily inspired from batman, but i think spiderman suits kenny better :,)

[windwardstar]

honestly at this point someone should just hire me to find where their system breaks down. because if there is a crack in the system I will somehow miraculously fall through it.