#this is almost 2k oops

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Can I have xavier x vampire!reader where xavier really wants her to bite him and feed on him? pls thank you

I’ve been trying to post this for a few days, but there’s an extreme cold snap in Canada and it's making the arthrosis in my hands/fingers more sensitive and aching, which slows my writing... 

Warnings: mention of blood (is that a necessary warning?)

my taglists are here + you can requests here at any time

—

You were making your way through the library when Xavier pulled you aside by the arm to talk in private between two shelves.

‘’If this is how you flirt with girls — dragging them into a dark corner —, I'm not surprised you don't have a girlfriend, Thorpe. Your technique is giving psychopath vibes, you might want to revise it.’’

Xavier ignored your jab and let go of your arm. ‘’Since when do you speak to Rowan?’’

‘’Since when is who I speak to any of your business?’’ you fired back.

‘’Your eyes are red,’’ he pointed out.

During the day, you had concealed them behind a pair of dark sunglasses. They were mostly to protect your eyes from the burn of the sun, but you also used them to conceal your hunger to the others. Even in a school full of outcasts, bright red irises were difficult to miss.

The sun was down now, so you had taken them off. You should have kept them, but the weight of the day was on your shoulders and you couldn't care who saw your red eyes. You weren't the only vampire at Nevermore — everyone knew what red eyes meant.

‘’Is that why you were talking to Rowan? You were flirting with him to try and lure him into being your blood bank for your next feed?’’

You pulled your eyebrows at the ridiculousness of his words. ‘’What? I was not flirting with Rowan.’’

‘’But you do need to find someone to feed on.’’

‘’My vampire needs are none of your business,’’ you hissed, terminating the conversation.

The next morning, you woke up more irritable than the day prior. More hungry too.

It was difficult to focus in class, your body screaming for blood. You even had to hold your breath during botany class, the delicious smell of your table partner’s blood calling at you and making it difficult to control your bloodlust. Pouncing on your table partner’s jugular in the middle of botany class was not appropriate behavior.

When lunch came around, you asked Yoko if she knew any feeding banks in Jericho. Unfortunately, there was none. She suggested hunting outside the school’s woods — there were deers, rabbits, and other small animals —, but your body was not receptive or fast enough to catch a prey.

Another day passed — you were getting weak. You were so weak that you couldn’t sleep last night. You didn’t attend your classes either.

The lack of feeding severely weakened the body, the same way a human body would if they didn’t get enough nutriments. Although their diet was different, some — small — things were the same. That weakened state also made you more vulnerable to vampire hunters. Fortunately, there wasn’t any around Nevermore.

Using all of your remaining forces, you pulled yourself out of bed and attempted to catch a rat. There was some around Thornhill's greenhouse, they should be easy enough to catch. But you failed miserably and ended up collapsing by the greenhouse, weakened by the blazing sun.

If your mother would see you, she would say you were an embarrassment to your kind you were. A vampire of your age should know how to take care of themself. Should know when to feed and be able to fend for themself.

You stayed there for hours, hidden in the shadows, feeble and powerless. Ms. Thornhill always came to her greenhouse at night. Perhaps she could help you then?

Much to your dismay, it was not your favorite teacher that found you, but the last person you wanted assistance from. He was heading to his art shed after class when he found you sitting by Thornhill’s greenhouse.

You cursed under your breath as he stopped in his tracks. You didn't want Xavier Thorpe to see you like this, weak and sickly. He kneeled down to your level, growing deeply concerned. Your sunglasses were covering your eyes, but Xavier knew they were still red behind the dark lenses.

‘’Do you have a dying wish?’’ Your head tipped forward heavily as if you were going to pass out. ‘’You need to feed.’’

If you hadn’t been so weak, you would have given him a snarky come back.

‘’Unless you are secretly a pro hunter and can catch me a rabbit—’’

‘’There’s me,’’ he blurted out.

You shook your head in earnest. ‘’I'm not biting you.’’

It would solve your hunger, but biting someone at this level of starvation was dangerous. It's easy to lose control and take too much. If you take too much of his blood, he would pass out. Or worse, die.

‘’If you don’t, you’re gonna die and I’m not letting you die,’’ Xavier insisted, loosening his tie and undoing the first buttons of his uniform shirt.

His neck came into sight and you could hear the blood pumping inside Xavier’s untouched jugular. You gulped, forcing yourself to look away. ‘’I could kill you.’’

‘’I’m trusting you not to lose control.’’

‘’It can get messy.’’

‘’Don't care.’’ His green eyes crossed yours, showing you how fucking serious he was about this. About wanting this. ‘’Do it,’’ he said, tilting his head and waiting for you to take him, to bite him.

You flicked your eyes down to his jugular again — your stomach tightened. Foreign to the feeling, a soft gasp left Xavier's lips as your fangs sank into his skin, piercing the vein of his neck. You felt the blood flood your mouth, tasting heavenly on your tongue. You held back a moan. Was it simply because you were starving, or was it Xavier's blood that tasted differently — that, you didn’t know.

Xavier felt the pressure as you sucked, easy at first, and then a little more desperately. He tipped his head back farther, trying to arch his neck more, to give you more room. Blood spilled down his neck, staining the collar of his white shirt, but he didn’t seem to care.

You tugged sharply at his hair, pulling him closer to your mouth while you suckled his blood.

Aside from the objective pain, Xavier felt an euphoric rush from the bite. Lights had flashed behind his eyes as fire had raced through his body. He never felt more alive.

Despite how pleasurable it was for both of you, you retracted your fangs from Xavier’s neck before you took too much. You licked the wound to help the blood coagulate and let go of him, enough satiated. You could’ve taken more, but you didn’t want to risk it.

‘’You’re gonna feel a little light headed for a few minutes,’’ you warned your blood giver.

Xavier blinked, feeling himself losing balance. He sat beside you. ‘’Holy shit.’’

Your tongue darted out, licking a smear of blood from your lip. ‘’You good?’’

He hummed in response, still feeling the high from the bite.

Minutes passed as the both of you recovered in silence. Your strength was starting to return, the blood you just drank finally taking effect.

The wind had risen, making the leaves rustle. You glanced at the sky, seeing it beginning to darken. Ms. Thornhill should arrive soon. She couldn’t see you like that — all bloodied.

‘’We should move,’’ you said. ‘’And clean up.’’

Xavier agreed. Your lips and chin still had traces of blood. Although he found it really hot, you couldn’t go back to the academy looking like that.

‘’Let’s go to my art shed. It’s not far and there’s water and rags to clean up.’’

You followed Xavier's lead, your steps a little slower than usual, and stopped before a small wooden shed. It looked abandoned and old — it probably was.

‘’Is this where you take the girls you want to impress? Because it looks like a psychopath’s kill den.’’

A small smile cracked on his lips. Xavier undid the lock and opened one of the two barn doors, waving his hand to let you in first.

You smelled the paint and other art supplies before you saw any of it.

You heard a small click and the room came to light. Dozens of canvas of various sizes, sketchbooks and graphite drawings, and a tall easel. In the back, there was a long table with pots of brushes messily lined up - there were more dirty than clean ones. Countless tubes of paints were scattered in all corners of the room, some of them uncapped and likely drying. The trash basket beside the easel was overflowing with paper towels, paper and empty paint tubes.

‘’Nice paintings,’’ you said, looking at the monster on one of the massive canvases.

While you were admiring the paintings, Xavier was looking for a clean-ish rag. There was a bit of paint on this one, but it'll do the job. He also grabbed the water bottle he forgot last night so you could wet the rag.

‘’Here.’’

You thanked him.

There was no mirror, so you tried your best to clean your face.

A few steps away, Xavier was taking off his uniform layers. The bite had stopped bleeding, but the mess of blood and soiled fabric had dried and was now stuck to his skin. He winced as he took off his shirt, the area sensitive.

Although it was barely audible to the human ear, you heard his sounds of pain and turned in Xavier’s direction. Your eyes trailed down to his neck where the blood was dried and guilt filled you. He looked like he got attacked by a wild animal.

An animal with sharp fangs and a thirst for blood.

You discreetly watched him in silence, the rag still in your hand, and drew your lip between your teeth. You wanted to pounce on him.

‘’You missed a spot.’’

You snapped out of your staring. ‘’What?’’

Xavier stepped closer and took the rag from you. ‘’Here.’’ He tipped your chin to get a better angle and gently cleaned the blood you had missed. His eyebrows were pulled together in concentration and you could feel his breaths feathering your skin every time he exhaled.

He lifted his gaze and your eyes locked for a second — green meeting red. You tried your best to ignore the way his breathing had picked up and how his mouth was no more than half an inch from yours. His hand stilled, and he closed the distance between your lips.

You moan into the kiss and Xavier let go of the rag to cup your face, the kiss quickly turning desperate and hungry. His tongue was already in your mouth, gently caressing yours. He could taste the unpleasant metallicity of his blood, but he didn't break away.

Before today, making out with Xavier Thorpe was never something you had thought about. You found him snobbish, annoying and nosey. But now, his hands were on you — all over you —, and although your body temperature was of cold nature, you felt like your skin was on fucking fire.

Your left hand slowly trailed all the way up his back until you were touching the back of his neck while your other glided up his bare chest. You felt the envy to sink your teeth into him again, but before you could make a move, Xavier broke the kiss with a displeased groan, unlike you, needing oxygen.

His eyes never left yours as he ran a hand through his hair, out of breath. They were burning with desire. ‘’This vital need for oxygen is a curse.’’

A light chuckle left your lips. You grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him again.

—

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[syn4k]

sometimes you get hit in the back of the head with an idea for a oneshot and go "oh that's brilliant i have to write it immediately"

[lavenoon]

I had a thought that just wouldn’t leave my brain, and a follow-up question to go alongside it, and it’s only *right* to share, isn’t it? Sharing is caring, after all! ✨

Speaking of caring though… We know the boys care a lot. We’ve had Sun and Moon be scared and worried even to the point of frustration about the people they love being in danger, hurt or otherwise. We’ve seen this with Eclipse and Robin too many times to count, and we also know they care about each other, their other half. We’ve seen them scared… but what about when they’re scared for themselves? And scared for *each other?*

I imagine they’re not often scared for each other in the physical way given their schedules and shared body. If something goes wrong, the other has to deal with it later, yes, but typically after the incident has already passed and what they’re focusing on then is mental support and maybe some body fix-up. Concern, always, but in-the-moment fear for their well-being? That’s harder to come across in their situation. But despite them not being active at the same time often, we know they can wake each other up. And though that’s often on purpose… what happened if it *wasn’t?*

What if, at one point, maybe when Dusk is on an infiltration mission, the targets are *ready*. Maybe not for him specifically, but they know they’re at risk and are prepared for a rat, human or otherwise. And maybe despite how talented Dusk is, that preparation is enough to catch him off-guard.

I imagine Dusk sneaking around a corner, careful and quiet as always, but then he’s spotted. He’s spotted but there’s still a job to do and he’s confident so he rushes *in* instead of *out*, claws extending and ready for a take-down like many of the ones he’s done before— only for a shock to overtake him. And it’s not the kind he’s felt before, it’s not a freezing surprise or a steel-hard revelation.

No. This shock is hot and fierce and *real.*

And it *hurts.* A taser of sorts, specifically meant to subdue those new animatronic agents that keep popping around across the city, and maybe it’s the first time Dusk has seen them, or maybe it’s just the first time he’s been hit by one. But it’s unfamiliar, it’s unplanned, and damn it all, it *hurts.*

And he yells and growls, expecting to be met with a snarky retort as he quivers into the ground, but the pain keeps coming because he’s standing for too long, and the offender doesn’t like that, and even when his knee finally gives out, by then the plan isn’t just to pin him, but it’s to fully knock him out (at least, he hopes that’s as far as they take it). And he has his own electricity in his mechanical veins, even maybe some conferred resistance, but it’s nothing like this, it’s never been turned on him like this, and for however strong Dusk is, at some point, it becomes too much.

And then, it gets worse, because Sun gets woken up by the horrible, horrible pain and *fear* that overtakes his other half, a resounding scream inside their shared mind that he’s never heard before, not like this, not with Dusk not even meaning to let it out, maybe even trying to hold it *in*, but unable to any longer. And it’s almost worse then, for the both of them, when the other half is active. Because Sun is suddenly aware and can maybe feel a dulled out version of the pain, but what’s worse than that is how loudly Dusk’s pain gets to him and his worry and fear mounts for him. It’s unfamiliar, seeing Dusk like this, and it’s absolutely horrifying, especially when he knows there’s nothing he can do, *nothing.* Meanwhile, Dusk is suddenly hit with the realization that he’s making Sun hurt, too, that he’s forcing him to experience even a part of this, that he’s having to sit through this, too, and it’s a new sort of fear and worry as he wishes nothing more for him to retreat and get away and go back because he’ll *handle* this, except he doesn’t trust that, either. And maybe through it all he’s internally yelling for Sun to retreat back but it become a mess inside their mind because Sun is screaming at him, too, but to let him *out*.

Both of them can feel how the two of them being there and active is making things even *worse*, too, then, because systems that are already quite literally being shocked are now being overloaded by double the amount of strong emotions, and mounting, and that only makes them stress more because they might be inorganic… But they have a limit. And they’ve never gotten this close to it before. Not like this. Not *together.*

They’re scared for each other and they’re scared for *themselves* and there’s no way for either of them to help the other or themselves in the moment.

But, of course, it doesn’t get worse than that. They’re saved, one way or another, and everything turns out fine. Maybe the mission is a failure, maybe the boys *do* need to be repaired at least to some degree after that, but it’s nothing the agency can’t get to work fixing.

… But it’s something that stays with them. And it’s something they *remember.*

And this is where I imagine Robin coming in, heart in their throat as they rush to check on their boys, except unlike last time, there aren’t misunderstandings and guilt to talk about. This time, when the boys see Robin, it’s with an unfamiliar flood of relief, safety and a choking feeling in their throat.

What would that be like? The boys actually being comforted for a fright like that? One that honestly, truly, made them worried about what came next and is fresh in their minds, but being given the option of support from their favourite little rival. What would they need? What would they *want?*

(I provided the hurt… will you provide the comfort? <3 )

-🌻 Daye

I will, but first I'll make the angst worse <3

They get out with their eclipse mode. That kind of immediate danger outweighs the risk it carries, and ignoring the risks entirely, that's what that mode is for. They both want out, they need to be out, both in control and away from the danger.

It's not smooth at all, with that foreign electricity still throwing their systems into overdrive, their circuits struggling to contain it all. They run much hotter than they should, and by then, stealth really becomes a non-issue by how impossible it is, even without their cooling fans in overdrive.

They don't think, there's no more need to. They fall back on the basest instincts - there's pain, so make the pain go away.

All the attackers did with their stunt ensured that they end up fighting someone inhumanly strong who no longer cares about casualties.

So they get out, and like an adrenaline rush running out, they just fade back into singular control, barely even noticing as both still process what happened on their own. Maybe some fried circuits, not all joints working as they should, the touch receptors in the area where they were hit totally fried. Limping away, wondering if the leftover tingling is just like an afterimage of the pain, or if their systems got that kind of damaged.

Still they don't think. They just go home.

Only on the porch do they start thinking, hesitating. This is a very new situation that rattled them immensely, and while logically they know they should crawls into their little workshop and to their tools and technical manuals, they just...

They use their key for Y/N's door, and go in.

(There's of course some variables here - is Y/N home? If it's at night, they usually work themself, for some reason not with Dusk. For the sake of the comfort, I'm saying they took the night off for unspecified reasons and are home when they hear their door click shut.)

Y/N, awake because they aren't gonna mess up their nocturnal schedule, is probably upstairs, chilling. Reading a book, or finishing up a little gadget, whatever hobby you want to project.

It's a little earlier than expected, perhaps, so they're not giddy when they rush downstairs - in their line of work, coming home early can go very very well or very very badly.

This one is very very bad.

Moon looks at them, still speechless, not quite sure where to even start, but both Sun (who refused to go into rest mode again, neither even thought about it/ suggested it) and him know they need Y/N right now.

And Y/N sees him - eyes wide, unreadable expression, limping - and cold dread washes through them immediately.

They weren't there, again.

They let them get hurt, again.

Even now that they all know, they still can't protect their partners.

But when Moon takes a hesitant step towards them and crumbles, they push all that away. Rush to him to catch him, and then he's clinging to them like his life depends on it.

(It feels a little like it does. The tingling hasn't stopped yet, and he so desperately wants to feel something, to touch someone who'll make him feel safe.)

Y/N pushes down all questions to first whisper reassurance - he's okay, he'll be fine, they're there, they won't let go, they'll help.

The first words Moon manages to get out?

"Sun's awake, too."

A shift to reassuring them both, acknowledging them both, and a lot of Y/N already checking them for obvious injuries and points of repair. Most damage is internal, though, so they only linger at the torn clothes and the dents left behind by whatever gadget caused the shocks, and they try so, so hard to keep it together for their boys.

But when they do finally break and cry, and Moon just silently, still stunned, wipes those tears away (suddenly it seems so strange. These are tears neither Sun nor him can shed, but they are for them, for the pain they went through), he manages more and more thoughts.

Namely, they are still in the hallway, sitting on the ground.

"Bed."

"We can go to the couch, it's closer -"

"Bed."

And so Y/N helps Moon up the stairs, one hand of his clinging to them, one to the railing. He basically collapses on their bed, and then they crawl next to him, and he buries himself in their arms. They hold him close still, petting and brushing where they can reach, and finally, finally they work up the courage to ask what happened.

"We had to eclipse. We said we'd never do that again."

Technically, not an answer. But it tells Y/N the most terrifying details first. They know Eclipse, capital E, they know how he came to be, why the brothers had a strained relationship, and how scared all of them are of that mode and its risks.

But whatever happened was so bad, scared them so bad, that now Moon is barely talking, barely walking, and made both of them resort to something they fear could erase one or even both of them from existence with one unfortunate glitch.

They cling tighter to Moon, then. 

They know another thing, too. 

“You got out. You got out, and back here, and you’re both still here. It was a tough call to make, but I’m proud of you for making it back.” 

“We didn’t think -” 

“Moon.” 

He glances up, caught in that need to argue (and have Y/N justify their actions, to lift that burden, to absolve them of the perceived failing that going back on their word would spell), but he lets their heavy words interrupt him to look at them. 

Y/N frees their arms to cup his face when he looks up, leaning so close their foreheads and noses touch. There are tears in their eyes, again, and they look at him, pleading.

“Was there a chance that you would have died without an eclipse?” 

The silence speaks for him. 

Somehow, Y/N clings even closer. Their eyes now shut, tears pooling in their corners before running down their face. 

“Then I’m glad you risked it. Please - please let me be glad. Why would I ever not be when it means you could come home? To me? You can’t leave me, please.” 

And the boys got what they wanted - their partner, whom they trust with their life and more (like their brother’s life), telling them they did the right thing. Maybe instinctively, maybe they didn’t carefully consider the risk - but it doesn’t matter, because of course they’re glad they made it home. Sure, they were terrified, and they didn’t even clean up the mess they made, didn’t alert the agency, nothing - 

Because they wanted to go home. 

That’s all they wanted, all they needed, and maybe it was selfish, maybe it was terrifyingly risky, but they made it. And they don’t actually want to regret that. 

So he tightens his grip around them, breaking out of their hold to press close right under their chin, where he can feel their pulse racing. It convinces him, and in turn Sun, that they did make it and they are home, they’re alive, they will be fine, they can get fixed, and things will be okay again.

But they also very much hate to see Y/N this distraught, so Moon digs his fingers into their back (blunt. not the time), to reassure them that he’s there, too. They wrap around him, arms winding around his back, and just tremble. 

“We wanted to come home to you.” 

And that’s a promise, too - that yes, the eclipse mode is a terrifying risk, but that in moments where they have to choose between Death and a Maybe, they will choose the maybe.

They stay like that for a long time, before Y/N slowly starts getting more information out of them. 

And then they’re getting taken care of. 

Eclipse is fortunately not in rest mode when he gets the message that they might have to go to his engineer of trust, if they could crash at his place for a few days? With the offer to call about the details right then, and goes through many emotions at once. Terror, Relief, Surprise (positive), and some weird, deep reassurance that not only does he hear as soon as possible about it, but they actually seek out his presence about it. 

They have their call, and Y/N gives him a rundown of what they know, and that Moon seems a little out of it still but reasonably so for someone in shock. That they’ll do their best to make the trip down as comfortable as possible for them, but they won’t wait to visit until after they’re fixed. 

Eclipse ends the call with a rather shy little “Thank you.”

Y/N then notifies HQ of the situation, giving them the details of what sort of clean up is needed. Then they continue to explain they’re all three taking the next two weeks off, but to please organize an appointment with a trusted engineer in Eclipse’s hometown (: 

Agent River sighs. One of those bone-deep, resigned ones. 

“Is there any way we can speed up your family gathering so we aren’t down our best three agents during the mission you’re already booked for?” 

“Well, it’d save an awful lot of gas money and time if we didn’t have to drive out.” 

“We’ll send you the location for the pick-up, you’ll get your flight. You’ll be back for your mission. It’s an important one.” 

“We’ll get them in working order, first.” 

“Don’t assume unacknowledged means undone, agent. Both agents Dusk and Dawn get full coverage regarding repairs for on the job injury. Go get ready, save all of us time.” 

“... Two hours. I’ll need to make sure they can at least walk, it would make things easier.” 

Agent River just hangs up. She hasn’t got all day, and has calls to make. 

Y/N does fix some minor wiring, probably only a temporary fix. They all stick close the next few days, and while they do go on their mission together, they’re a bit more on edge than they used to be. 

That will stretch on into the long term for a good while, where they all refuse to work without the other. It slows down Dusk/ Dawn’s performance a good bunch, because they now stick to Robin’s schedule. They’re still doing good work - but they earn a couple tired glares from River when even the easiest mission becomes a team effort. 

They ease up on it only because they also carry a lot more gadgets of the weaponized kind, courtesy of Eclipse. They even book a room in the Research and Development department to test them all out, to ensure they know exactly how to use/ activate them should the need arise. It leads to a lot of excited R&D staff and Eclipse gaining a bit of a reputation (positive, of course) at their HQ

It stays with them all, though, and they don’t know if they will ever go back to how it was before. Things never really went back to “before” after Robin got stabbed, after all - there’s still nights where Dusk is just a little quieter as he shadows them, or afternoons where Sun just traces the scar through their clothes, because he knows exactly where it is.

But that’s okay, actually. They have each other, and that’s worth it. That’s what they have each other for. 

And if they feel a little more grateful for that, no one could fault them for that.

[birdietrait]

i need to remember to delete the files in my recycle bin

[kiss-inthekitchen]

same sky | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

a late night phone call with Spencer. unruly amounts of fluff. no gender identifiers in this one. apologies to residents of las vegas, i did insult your city's aesthetics. i had to do it. for the plot

word count: 2k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3 by the same name. it's the second in a series of fics i've updated from my vault of oldies :) this one's for the girlies who liked the banter in no vacancy <3 oops! all banter

“I miss you,” you say into your cell phone, standing on the back porch and gazing out at the sky. It’s late, but you can’t sleep. Spencer has been gone on a case for the better part of a week, and you don’t sleep as well without him. 

“I miss you, too. But I’ll be home soon,” Spencer replies, keeping his voice low.  

“Is everyone else asleep?”

“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”

“Where are you right now?” Even though you aren’t in danger of waking anyone up, you find yourself mirroring Spencer's tone. 

“Best guess, somewhere over New Mexico.” They’ve been in the air about an hour, and given their trajectory, he’s pretty sure he’s right. Spencer is seated at the edge of the couch, his back against the arm of it and a blanket thrown over his legs, barely covering his mismatching-socked feet. 

“How come you’re still up?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says. Somehow, he can feel you smiling across the line. It makes him smile, too. He doesn’t ask why you’re awake when it’s even later where you are; he knows already. "What are you doing?”

“Looking up at the stars.”

“You know, you won’t be able to see me up here.”

“Ha ha.”

“Here, I’ll open the shade on the plane window. At least we can share the same view.”

“Hm. Almost like we’re together,” you hum. 

His heart aches. It’s only been a few days and he still can’t stand it. “Almost.”

For a minute, neither of you speak, looking out at the sky from two different time zones.

“When I wake up tomorrow morning, you’ll be here, right?” 

“Mmhm. Maybe even before that,” he responds, a low, soothing hum in your ear.

“Should I stay up until you get here?” you already know what he'll say, but you kinda like the idea of it anyway.

“No, no, it’s at least another four hours. Don’t worry about it. When you wake up, I’ll be there.”

“Sounds good. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You’d intended to let him go after just a quick call once you realized that the rest of the team were resting not too far from him, but you don’t want to hang up. He doesn’t make any moves to do so either, wanting to hear your voice as much as you want to hear his. “So, how was Tucson?”

“Oh, you know. Hot. Desert-y. Lots of murder.”

“Less murder now.” 

“Yeah.” 

His voice sounds strained. He doesn’t like indulging in a sense of accomplishment after closing a case, doesn’t ever feel like he’s done enough. He shows up too late and does too little, and then he gets to leave while the families of the victims have to pick up the pieces. You understand why he doesn’t like to think about the work that way, but you’ve tried to remind him that the good he does is incalculable; how many lives saved, how many tragedies avoided. It’s all you can do. 

You pivot a little, not wanting him to get too caught up. “I remember, when I first moved to Virginia, I was so shocked at how green everything was. I swore I’d never seen that much green in my life.”

“I had a similar experience,” he says, fondly, aware of your tactics. 

“Oh, I can only imagine. I’ve been to Vegas. It’s icky.”

“Icky?” he asks, laughing at your word choice. 

“I mean, no offense, but… it’s kinda ugly.”

“Wow, okay, insult my hometown, why don’t you.”

You laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re right.”

“I know,” you sigh. “Always am.”

“Well, statistically, you actually have a seventy-two percent chance of being right, which is still impressive, but hardly a flawless track record.”

“Spencer Reid coming in hot with the stats. I love when you talk numbers to me.” 

“I don’t think we’d have gotten very far if you didn’t.” 

“But I think I should be right more often than that.” 

“Are you asking me to fudge the numbers?” he asks with put-upon shock. 

“I’m just saying, maybe you’ve got it wrong.” 

“Oh, so you dare to challenge the accuracy of my eidetic memory? Or is it the statistics that you think I’ve calculated incorrectly?” 

“This is affecting my score, isn’t it?” 

“I’ll have to factor it in. You understand.” 

You giggle, and Spencer starts to feel some warmth come back into him after too many days of stress, doubt, and destruction. He hadn’t been able to talk to you nearly as much as he wanted. And it was hard to talk to you on certain cases, to allow you to make him feel lighter when reality was so dark. When he felt so much weight on his shoulders, when he should be focusing on the profile and apprehending the unsub and… sometimes he just didn’t feel like he deserved to have that weight lifted by you, even for a little while. 

“Spence?” 

“Will you go inside?” he asks, his tone full of something like reverence for you. “Please?”

“If you insist,” you sigh, already opening the door. 

“I do. I do insist, very forcefully.” 

“I’m already inside with the door locked.” 

“Man, I’m good.” 

“Mmhm.”

“Going to bed?”

“Yeah. Will you talk to me for a few more minutes?” you ask, sliding under the covers. Spencer hears the slip of fabric as you pull them up over your shoulders, and it sharpens the ache he feels to be home with you already. 

“I’ll talk to you for the rest of the night, if you want me to.” 

“No, I don’t wanna keep you awake, too.” 

“I probably won’t get much sleep regardless.” 

“I don’t condone that,” you say, your frown evident in your voice. 

“Noted,” he replies, though he sounds apologetic. 

Four hours feels an eternity too long to wait. You miss Spencer, and you hate how tired he sounds. You want to fix things for him. You want to run your fingers through his hair til he falls asleep and you want to make sure his dreams are peaceful when he does. 

“What do you wanna do when you’re back?” you ask, hoping that planning for it will make the time go faster. 

“Oh, I’m taking a shower and getting right into bed. And you can’t make me get up.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I’m serious. Don’t ask me to do a single other thing cause I won’t do it.” 

You laugh. “For the whole day?” 

“Probably. And you better not go anywhere either. We could both use the rest.” 

“Okay, rest day all day.” 

“We can order Thai though. So we’ll get up for that. But even then, it’s just to sit on the couch.” 

“Maybe the floor.” 

“I will also accept floor,” he concedes, and then it occurs to him that you might’ve been asking because you want to do something with him. “Is there something you wanted to do the next day though?” 

“Well... the saucer magnolias are blooming at the Smithsonian again.” 

“Say no more.” 

You sigh wistfully. “You’re my favorite boyfriend I’ve ever had.” 

“Well, I should hope so,” he says, smiling. “You’re my favorite, too.” 

“Aren’t I the only partner you’ve ever had?” 

“Ha ha. I had a girlfriend in college.” 

“Spencer, you were like sixteen in college.”

“I wasn’t sixteen the entire time,” you hear the eye roll in his voice, “I have three PhD’s, it took me a little while.” 

“Well, who is this girl? Do I need to beat her up?” you joke. 

“No,” he laughs. “You are my favorite, after all. She wasn’t very nice to me.” 

“Okay… so you told me not to beat her up but then gave a reason why I should?” 

“Please don’t beat up my ex-girlfriend. I do appreciate your violent impulses though.” 

“Mm, okay. As long as you know I could.” 

“Sure, angel. You’re very scary,” he placates. 

You let out a little gremlin laugh. 

“Oh, and you’re delirious,” he notes, an amused lilt to his tone. 

“Delirious because I miss you,” you sing, dragging out the ‘you’. 

“God, where did I even find a weirdo like you,” Spencer laughs. 

“I found you. You attracted me with your peculiar aura and soulful eyes. Trapped me in your… fucking what’s-it-called. Tractor beam.” 

“You know, the term tractor beam was actually coined by science fiction author E.E. Smith in 1931 as an updated version of his original term ‘attractor beam.’” 

“Hmm, yup. You caught me in that.” 

“Did you call my eyes soulful?” he asks, seemingly just processing that part. 

“Oh, you don’t like my adjective choice? Next you’ll have a problem with me calling your aura peculiar.” 

“I mean… I don’t know that I loved it.” 

“Here he goes fishing for compliments,” you sigh, rolling over to your other side and creating a bunch of shuffling noise on the line. Spencer wrinkles his nose, holding the phone a little farther from his ear until he hears you speaking again. “Okay, your eyes are big and brown and beautiful and they contain a standard unremarkable amount of soul, and your aura is also really regular. Regular Reid, that’s what they call ya.” 

He’s frowning, you can practically see it, but he’s also fighting off an amused smile. “Well, that one started off nice, at least.” 

“God! You’re so difficult. My boyfriend is sooo difficult. Why don’t you come home to me first and then I’ll come up with some more adequate compliments?” 

“I’m going to hold you to that.” 

The two of you talk for a little while longer, with you telling Spencer about the new coffee shop you’d tried out and how their lavender latte actually tastes like lavender, which is basically unheard of. Spencer tells you about the standoff between him and an all too curious roadrunner that he swears was trying to get into his motel room. Calling it a standoff is generous; the man got bullied by a bird. 

You try not to laugh and end up unsuccessful, with Spencer insisting that you were taking sides and he was well and truly in danger, which only makes it funnier. His voice pitches up even as he tries to keep his volume low, and you argue that his energy is just so attractive that even the local wildlife are drawn to him. 

“Don’t start,” he warns, overwhelming fondness in his voice. 

You make Spencer tell you something boring to calm yourself down from the image you’ve conjured of him being chased by a roadrunner, which, in your exhausted state, is even funnier than it should be. He claims to regret confiding in you with this, but he knows he’d do it again just to hear you laugh. 

Instead of telling you something boring, he recites some of the poems he’s memorized over the years. It works the way you’d intended, and you regret it when you have to stop him to tell him you’re falling asleep. He’s just a little smug about it. 

“So, you’ll be home in four hours?” you ask, the start of your goodbyes. 

“More like three now.”

“We made time go faster.” 

“We did.” 

“Will you try to get some sleep?”

“Fine. Only because you asked.”

You hum, victorious. “Goodnight. I love you.” 

“And I love you.” 

Hours later, just as the sun is beginning to change the hue of the sky from deep navy to a hazy cerulean glow, you feel your mattress shift underneath you. You’re barely awake, but still you register the scent of Spencer’s shower gel, fresh and sort of woodsy. 

Half asleep, you shift to accommodate him, and he slips an arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. You wrap an arm around his torso and throw your leg over his hips, as close as you can possibly get without literally being on top of him. 

You sigh, deep and relieved, and Spencer’s heart stutters. 

“I missed this,” he chuckles, resting his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his arms tighter around you. You just hum in response, the last of your energy before you’re pulled back under. Within minutes, Spencer is asleep too, and the two of you sleep through sunrise and into the afternoon. 

[mypoisonedvine]

Hi hi! I’m sure you’re being flooded, but I’d love a little something about younger (20 or older though!) reader babysitting for dad! Steve. Smutty if you feel so inclined. Can be single or not, dealer’s choice!

I went wayyyy overboard with this, oops, but it was so sexy omfg

word count: 2k

warnings: huge age gap (45+ vs 20), unprotected sex, breeding kink, oral m receiving, sliiiightly mean dom steve, size kink, stomach bulge kink, daddy kink

You'd been crushing on Mr. Harrington for years, actually... even before the divorce.

It wasn't just that he was good-looking, although that was obviously part of it. It was the way he acted with you, it made you feel all girly and little and dumb; it was the way he played with his kids which made your uterus sob in envy; it was the way he wore reflective shades to the pool and you had to wonder if he was looking at you and seeing how much you'd grown.

For the longest, much to your dismay, nothing happened between you. You'd been trying to make conversation after he came back each night to finish your babysitting shift, but it never really worked. Nothing worked, actually, not even the skimpy outfits or the strategic bending over or the casual touches to his arm or knee.

Nothing worked until last night.

It started mostly normal, except that he was obviously in a worse mood than usual. You asked how his date went; he dodged the question. You pressed again, and he shook his head as he sat down on the couch, running his hands over his hair.

"It's starting to feel futile," he explained, speaking quietly knowing his kids were asleep down the hall.

"What is?"

"All of it," he breathed. "Dating, work, all of it."

You sat next to him, pulling your knees up on the sofa and tilting your head sympathetically. "Tell me about it," you offered.

Amazingly, he did. He told you about how each woman he went out with was worse than the last, and he didn't trust any of them with his kids. That made your heart skip; I'm his babysitter, he trusts me with his kids.

He told you about how rough the divorce had been, and then the custody arrangements. Apparently he was still dealing with that even though Mrs. Harrington had moved out probably almost two years ago now.

He told you about how hard his job was, how the hours killed him, how he could barely find time to spend with his family because he was putting out everyone else's fires at the office.

"That all sounds really stressful, Mr. Harrington," you cooed when he finished his rant. "You need to relax."

He chuckled a little. "Easier said than done."

"Maybe I can help you."

He raised an eyebrow in confusion, but his eyes went wide as he watched you get on your knees on the ground.

"Let me help you relax, Mr. Harrington," you pleaded, running your hands over his legs gently as they stayed slightly spread on the couch.

"Oh, uh— I— sweetie, we can't—"

You reached up to his belt, and even if his words were hesitant, he lifted his hips slightly to make it easier for you to unbuckle it.

"Are you— fuck— are you really—? Baby..."

It made your hips wiggle against the carpet hearing him talk like that. You got his fly open next, and started to rub his cock through his boxers underneath. His eyes followed your every move in disbelief.

He was just starting to get hard when you took him out, but he was already so big... your mouth was watering. You couldn't wait any longer: you looked up at him for just a second before you leaned forward and took his fat head into your mouth.

Groaning and tilting his head back, his hands found purchase in your hair instantly.

"Fuuuck," he breathed, "you're... you're so bad, sweetie, you know you shouldn't... oh my god."

You bobbed your head eagerly, feeling him swell and harden against your tongue until your mouth was stretched to its limit by his size. You hummed around him joyfully, revelling in the softly salty taste on your tongue. Stroking with your hand what your lips couldn't reach, you took a break after a few minutes to look up at him for approval.

"Where'd a sweet girl like you learn how to do that?" he asked with a long sigh. "Fuck, keep sucking... look up at me, baby."

You did as you were told, and he adjusted his hips slightly so it was easier for you to keep eye contact with him while you suckled at his throbbing head.

"Good," he praised, stroking your cheek as you worked. "Such pretty eyes... and that pretty mouth too, god. Take it deeper, sweetie, you can choke a little."

His hand helped push you down until his dick hit the end of your throat, and you gagged helplessly. He moaned loudest at that, eyes falling shut for a moment.

"Too big for your little mouth, huh?" he noticed. "Poor baby. Choke on me again."

You did as he said and noticed his hips rocking up to push his cock even deeper and gag you even harder. Tears welled in your eyes but he purred in satisfaction.

"Mm, good job," he praised, "you're so good for me, sweetie."

Needing a break for your throat, you pulled back and stroked him slowly as you made conversation. "How long has it been since somebody sucked your cock, Mr. Harrington?" you asked sweetly.

"Fuck, I don't even know— years? Before Allie was born, probably. She didn't... she never did it, really," he mumbled, and you tried not to bite your lip. Of course his bitch ex-wife never did this to him, he was probably so starved for affection for ages.

"That's such a shame," you pouted, "it tastes so good. I'd never be able to stop tasting you, Mr. Harrington."

"Then don't stop," he encouraged, pushing your head down again. You got back into the pattern, only taking breaks to lathe the shaft in long licks from base to tip; he seemed to like those a lot.

Sometimes you felt his cock throb and you hoped it meant he would come soon: you couldn't wait. You went on for a while longer, though, and started to get desperate for it. When his heavy breathing made you pretty sure he was close, you broke the pattern one more time to encourage him. "I want you to come in my mouth," you informed him. "M'gonna swallow it, sir, I promise."

"No, fuck no," he interrupted, surprising you. "No, I want that pussy. Fuck, I need your pussy, get up here."

You climbed onto the couch eagerly, straddling his lap as he started to pull your skirt up right away. He snapped your panties off like it was nothing, instantly groaning at the sight of your mound beneath; you felt so exposed in the best way, you worried you were going to drip right down onto his khakis with him looking at you like that.

"Fuck, sweetie, you're so gorgeous," he sighed, "such a gorgeous little pussy. C'mere..."

He held your thighs, petting them as he guided you down to his cock. He stopped looking at it once he was just barely pushing inside, instead starting to watch your face as you sank down onto his length with a moan. "Fuck!" you whimpered. "Fuck, too big, you're too—"

"Shh, shh," he soothed, "gotta be quiet, baby, the kids are asleep."

Your gut burned from how stupidly hot that was, and you bit your lip to try to keep it down. His cock reached the end of you and you jolted, trying to move back up, but he shook his head and kept guiding you down.

"No, sweetie, you need to take all of me," he scolded gently. "You're gonna take all of me, fuck, so good..."

Finally, somehow, he managed to get it all inside until your thighs were flush with his. You were shaking, it was so deep you were shaking; there was a slight bulge in your tummy where his cock filled you. "Mr. Harrington, it's too deep..."

He growled, actually growled, and held your hips tightly. "No, baby, it's just the right amount. You're taking me so good... all of my cock is in you, sweetie, you're doing so fucking good. Now just ride me."

Shaking and whimpering, you started to rock your hips on top of his; he sighed and watched you, looking wrecked in the best way.

"Yeah, fuck," he encouraged, "fuck, you know how long it's been since I had pussy like this? Tight, wet, young pussy like yours? You feel so fucking good..."

"You too," you moaned, "you feel so good, Mr. Harrington..."

He smirked a bit. "I think we're on a first name basis by now... but I want you to keep calling me that anyways. It's so fucking cute."

Pulling you a little closer, he whispered right by your ear.

"Maybe," he suggested, "you could even call me daddy."

"Oh, daddy," you pounced on the opportunity immediately, and he groaned in satisfaction. "Daddy, it feels really really good..."

"Yeah? Well then why don't you cream for me, huh? Let that cute little pussy come on my cock—"

You didn't even let him finish. You'd been worked up since he got here and it hit you all at once. He watched you proudly, thin laughter ringing in your ears.

"God, you're so sensitive," he groaned, "it's gonna take me a while, baby, I'm not as young as you... takes me all night sometimes."

You shuddered; "I don't have anywhere to be..."

"Yeah you do," he corrected, starting to guide your hips as your motions faltered from the exhaustion of coming. "Your parents are probably worried about you, sweetie. They don't know what a slut you are, do they?"

You shook your head. "N-no, daddy..."

"Fuck," he breathed, "you're so cute... show daddy your tits, sweetie— lift up your shirt for me and show me your tits."

He was more than capable of doing it himself, but he preferred to watch you roll up your tank top and let him see your tits, hardened from being so turned on by all this. You'd stopped wearing a bra around him months ago, and it was all worth it as he reached up and palmed one of your breasts.

"Mm," he hummed, "you've got great tits, baby— you show them off too much, though."

He slid his hand across your chest to touch the other gently. "I only did that for you, Mr. Harrington," you promised, "I just wanted your attention... wanted you to see how grown up I am..."

He smirked. "You got my fucking attention, sweetie."

With renewed energy, you started to take control again, riding him in earnest. "Really?" you confirmed hopefully. "Did you think about me, daddy? Did you ever jerk off and think about my tits?"

He delayed his answer by hissing a little, looking down at where your pussy slid up and down on him before tilting his head back again. "Yes," he admitted, "yeah, I thought about you. I would've done it a lot more if I knew you wanted me to."

"Of course I wanted you to," you giggled, "I have such a big crush on you, Mr. Harrington, I have for so long..."

"A crush, huh?" he laughed.

You nodded eagerly, whining when he held onto you tighter and started to thrust up into you off the couch.

"You know I'm more than twice your age, right?" he reminded you with a purr, and you nodded. "You know I'm older than your dad, right?"

Your head was spinning, but you nodded again.

"And you know I could get you pregnant... right?"

You moaned, head falling back, and he laughed.

"I knew it," he gloated, "I knew that was what you wanted— knew you needed some babies fucked into you, sweet girl. Daddy's gonna knock you up, s'that what you want?"

"Yes, yes!" you sobbed.

You weren't moving at all now, you were limp and useless as he thrust up into you hard and fast, making you cry and moan so loudly he had to cover your mouth. "I'll come, fuck, nice and deep," he promised, "and give you a baby, yeah? Get you so full and pregnant, just how you want it."

You were begging him for it, but it was all muffled into nonsense under his hand as he fucked up into you rough and fast. It ended with a groan, his head falling back and his body going limp under you as he came. You collapsed onto him, both of you sinking into the couch as you caught your breath.

His hands rested on your thighs still, sometimes petting them or moving up to your waist; you shyly hid your face in the crook of his neck, hardly believing that this really happened— and terrified you would wake up and realize it was all a wonderful dream. "Think I'm gonna need you to babysit for me again tomorrow night," he broke the silence suddenly. "I'll pay double for the short notice."

"I'll do it for free," you replied.

[hoshigray]

Hiya tojis darling ;)

I wonder if you can do this request but if not. Completely fine

wedding night with sexually frustrated toji. Reader is virgin.

Hello, krystal~ :D Been a while since you last requested, hope you're everything on your end is going okay! Lol, yes, I am indeed Toji's darling, currently watching TV with him as we speak~ Omg, I love this idea sm, hope I did justice with this one! Tysm for the request, nice to see you again~☆

Also, if you're reading this, know I'm currently away from this app for the week as I'm out on a trip with my close buds!! I'll still be writing when I get the time, so feel free to drop by my inbox as it'll still be open :3 Also also, I recently got to 1.8k followers!?!?? Sending hearts to y'all :D maybe we'll celebrate at 2k? I'll think about it while I'm gone...Anywho, plz enjoy this~

Cw: Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - soft one minute, then immediate smut, my bad haha - kissing/makeout session in a car; PDA (ig??) - Daddy kink - sex in a hotel room - oral (f! receiving) - missionary position - overstimulation - praise - biting (Toji nibble on your ear)- pet names (baby, darlin', cutie, good girl, mama, sweetie) - clitoral play (licking, sucking, and rubbing) - Toji being a good hubby for your first time, but still a menace - mentions of handjobs, blowjobs, and drool. Wc: 2.7k

"So? You feeling excited~?"

"Umm, I guess so? More like a bit scared..."

"Hehe, I get that. Shit, I'd be nervous, too, starting my honeymoon off with that hunk of a man...Oop! Speaking of, here he comes now..."

You watch your best friend, Utahime, poke to the side with their chin, and you turn to see the direction they pointed to. Tonight was the night of your wedding; the boisterous atmosphere by your guests was still alive and well but will soon wane by the second as the moment you've been anxious about has finally come. You're about to walk out of the venue to the SUV, waiting for you to head to the airport. But before you could do that, someone else had to accompany you. Your groom, the man you married today, walked towards you.

The day you'd see yourself get married to Toji Fushiguro was a day you couldn't foresee. Even after a long while being in a committed relationship with the older man, it's still hard to believe that he proposed to you on your birthday a year and a half ago. Five years of loving and being patient together all led to this moment, and it still baffles you that you are no longer a girlfriend — but a wife. And he, your husband.

Now that the party is coming to a close and pictures are almost finished taken, Toji approaches you outside his wedding attire. Finished changing out of his wedding tux, now substituted with a black turtleneck and dark jeans, a silver chain decorating around his neck. He surveys your changed appearance, your stunning white dress replaced with a comfortable yet elegant jumpsuit that compliments your beautiful skin and figure. He gives you a grin, and your heart swoons. "Lookin' gorgeous, baby."

Your cheeks grow warm, averting your eyes somewhere away from your handsome spouse. "Thank you...you too."

"Awww, look at you being all shy!" Utahime pokes fun at you, snickering to themself when she sees you glare at them. "You better be good to this one, Toji. They just might faint if you look their way~."

The man chuckles at the comment. "Maybe that's what I'm hopin' for, now that I got 'em all to myself." He then moves closer to pull you by the shoulder, your body rigid being towed to his chest, and you just know your friend has a stupid look of glee from the display of affection. "Ready?"

You incline to face him and give a meek nod. He kisses your cheek with a smirk, and Utahime squeals before heading to the front door in front of you. Busting it open to showcase the crowd awaiting your arrival, you two walk down in unison as the guests cheer for the newly wedded couple.

As you make it down the aisle, you look around and share smiles with the familiar faces that came and had fun at your wedding until the blazing sun was replaced with the happy moon. Friends and family clapping their hands to you and your husband, wishing and shouting praises and good luck for the two of you. You saw Mei Mei blowing kisses your way, Gojo lifting his shades to wink at you, and your college buddies chanting your name with your relatives.

On the other side, you could make out Shiu Kong in the far back, taking out the cigarette between his lips and waving goodbye to you and his friend. Geto stands at the front, smiling while his two daughters yell, "Congratulations!!" as you descend. And at the end stands Nanami with a small smile, and beside him are Toji's children. Tsumiki, your pretty flower girl, comes to give you a hug. Megumi, the once stoic ring bearer, followed his sister to do the same.

You return the embrace to the kids, telling them to promise to be good until you return and proceed to walk into the backseat of the car. Toji closes your door and walks to the other side to take his seat, and a roar of applause and cheers erupts when the vehicle drives out of the scene. A tremendous wave of tranquility washes over you now that you're away from the gathering; the wedding is officially over.

However, after you release a long sigh and rest your eyes with shut eyelids, you hear the sound of a seatbelt unbuckling and something — or someone — moving closer to you. And a pair of lips on your neck has you snap your eyes back open.

"T-Toji!" You yell at him in a hushed tone, taking note of the driver in front of your seat. "Not here, wait til we're at—"

"I know, sweetie, I know," he says but resumes arranging your neck and clavicle with kisses. "You just look so fuckin' beautiful; can't a guy have a small piece of his wife before then?" As if you could give him a proper answer before he brings his lips onto yours, your moans taken by him while he sucks and nibbles on your bottom lip.

You grab his turtleneck as you try to suppress the whimpers from airing out, not wanting the driver to hear what's happening in his car (although he's secretly listening to his own music with his earphones). But when Toji's hand snakes down to your butt and gives it a squeeze, you squeak. "Toji!" you whisper shout at him again, and all you're given is a snicker from the sly bastard you're stuck with.

"Shhhhh, lemme have you fr' just a second." Your tiny glare fuels his hunger more, taking your lips once more. And he toys with you throughout the ride to the airport. Such a liar!! You cursed, but this moment was bound to happen.

Despite spending many years together, how you've managed to still be a virgin is still a mystery even to you. You never thought so much about letting your virginity go, so you treated it as something sacred that you only wished to give to the right person. However, when the right person came through, you realized you still weren't ready to let it go. Bless your lucky stars, though, that your [former] boyfriend opted to wait for you, even when you said that it would probably happen when you two get married. You thanked the heavens for having such a patient man, as it showed how much he loved and treasured you.

...But having such a patient, attractive, and brawny man in your life for so long was not an easy task on your part. There have been moments when you'd fantasize about the fateful day Toji would deflower you, so much so there were nights your fantasies took the best of you, and your fingers slithered down the hem of your panties. Or the days when your eyes would linger on his strong, muscular body for too long before your face would feel as hot as the sun, and you'd want to melt on the spot when Toji catches you glancing, a giant smirk plastered on his face. Or times when he'd be too horny, and you'd offer to help him with his erections. Your blowjobs and handjobs would do more bad than good for both of you. Because Toji's desire for you increased day by day.

So ever since you walked down that aisle, you knew your eventual doom was coming to get you. Even when you two fly on your honeymoon, you sense his patience dwindle by the hours. And once you make it to the enchanting luxury suite, he finally snaps. Hoisting you up bridal style and storming right to the bed, clothes discarded to the floor, and lights dimmed to a softer glow.

"Ahhhnn!! Ahhaaa!! Tojiii!! It's too much!! Too mu—Mmnaaah!" He's now between your thighs, your legs propped up by his strong hands and cunt coated with your wetness out for him to see. Your cries are ignored by the obdurate older man, who flicks your clit with his tongue.

"I know, , but gotta have you right fr' me." He coos, chaste kisses set on your inner thighs. "Don't wan' break my baby on their first night." His words meant out for comfort, yet contrasted with the raunchy, lewd noises he was making on your slit. Licking and sucking on your moist folds, teeth grazing your sensitive vulva while his tongue satiates his thirst with your slick. His nose bumping into your clitoris in the midst of it all has you gripping the shits beneath you.

Tears prickle the ends of your shut eyes, your face hot like the air in the room, and your body sweaty and shivering from being in this position for about fifteen minutes. Toji said that the best thing for you was to have him tease and get your body ready. Nevertheless, had you known that you'd have the man eating you out nonstop like this, you would've prepped yourself better! It's so bad that your head pounds, his wet muscle attacking your chasm precisely to the point of your mind being stuck in a haze. No wonder you're constantly jolting, and your legs won't stop shaking — you've come three times already!!

"Hey, mama," you hear him call you, but you can't format a functional sentence now. You respond with gibberish you hope he can make sense of. "Say my name, and I'll let ya cum."

"T...Toji—Eeeyaahh!" He sucks on your clit with vigor; you could've sworn you almost choked on a gasp.

"Aht aht, the other one." Emerald eyes examine your direction.

You bite your lip at the patronizing tone of his voice. You know what he's referring to; it's just too embarrassing to say. For the sake of putting an end to this pleasurable hell and getting what you really want, however, your tongue burns at what you say next.

"Mmmm, please, Daddy...Please, let me cum. I want it!" You whine with hooded eyes looking down at him, and his devilish grin almost makes you melt. Without saying another word, his mouth returns to your leaky cunt. But this time, he brings a. hand down south, and his fingers rub rough circles on your delicate bud, the two sensations shocking your body into an experience you've never experienced before.

It's only a matter of seconds that you come right then and there, your body jerking and legs quivering in sync with your walls clamping onto nothing. And your cries don't stop there, more wails fill the room as Toji drinks your creamy substance for the fourth time that night. His tongue protruded into your spongey core and roughly licked on its tender nerves.

You appreciate the moment he lets you rest for a few seconds after removing his mouth from you, your shivering body slowly calming down to a stable state. You feel so sticky and dirty with the mess between your legs, coated with come and spit. So vulgar to even think about it that your ears ring.

Toji licks his lips of your wetness, "Did s' good fr' me, mama. Such a good girl fr' Daddy." He then stations your legs around his waist, and you peer down to watch him align his erect cock to your entrance. "Ready, cutie? Gonna need ya' to take some deep breaths fr' me, okay?" You nod and follow his instructions. The head of his cock pushes to you with every exhale, and your eyes automatically sew shut when his girth bullying your entrance brings in pain. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, nails digging into tan skin as you fight the discomfort.

But it all slowly vanishes once the tip slides in, a sharp cry escaping you. More whimpers and choked sobs fly out when he gradually pushes his length into you, tears striking down as his girth stretches your insides.

"Mmmm, holy fuckin' shit," he curses under his breath. "You're so tight, baby." You can only hum as a reply before his hips start moving at a slow cadence. The feeling of his dick between your walls is hard to comprehend. It's finally happened; you're no longer a virgin. So full of him inside you, unable to put into words the feeling you're experiencing right now.

It takes every part of his being for Toji to keep his ruts to a slow pace. He knows this is a big moment for you — it's necessary that you don't get too overwhelmed by him, or else something could go completely wrong. And he wouldn't want that for you. Despite that, a part of him really wants to relish your body. Five years of waiting for you to be ready for him. Five years of fighting the urge to pin you down and have you to himself. Five years of desire all crumble down for this exact moment. Now, when he finally has you for himself and no one else, the patience that was once there converts into that of pure lust.

His hips increase speed, and your hands cling onto him for dear life. The walls of your chasm clamp into him even harder, and your legs wrap around him, Toji groaning at your grip on him. He snickers through gritted teeth, "Jesus Christ, mama, y'r tryin' to snap my dick off? I'm not goin' nowhere." He coos while wiping tears from your eyes.

You open your mouth to say something, but all that leaves your mouth is a scream when he slams his pelvis into your cunt. The action has you arch your back toward him, his length brushing up on the sweet spots that you never considered were there. More mewls bounce off the walls of the suite as his thrusts recur with a vigorous rhythm.

"Daddy, I'm, Oh Jesus—Aiishhhh!!" You hiss out for him, eyes rolling back when he grinds his pelvis on your messy vulva. Squelching noises burn your ears. "I'm gonna cum, Daddy, I wanna cum!"

"Hnngh!! Yeah, sweetie, think y'r gonna cum?" He draws down closer for his lips to be dangerously close to your ear. Your slit clutching hard on his dick. "Wanna cum on Daddy's dick like a good girl?"

"Yes, yessss! Please, I want it!!" You wail out, no regard to how loud your voice is right now. All you want is your orgasm.

Toji's chuckle is too close to your eardrums. You squirm under him, and he playfully bites the lobe of your ears. "Go 'head, darlin'. Make a real mess on me, ya hear?" He kisses you lovingly while his hips snap at you at an erratic tempo, prompting uncontrollable moans to enter the air against your will. With every rut is an abrasive hit to the tender spots within you, and your clit doesn't go unnoticed when he brings his hand back down to play with it, grinding on the pearl rough with his calloused forefinger. And it's thanks to this that your fifth release comes to you in mere seconds.

Your husband tries to rut out more deep thrusts into you and plunge into you a while longer. But it's to no avail when your cunt flutters on his cock deliciously, forcing him to succumb to an orgasm of his own. Moans are exchanged between your mouths, and your bodies experience the aftershocks together.

And when the two of you enter a halcyon state with the quiet room, Toji frees your lips off his and wipes your pretty face off of tears and drool. "So," he kisses your cheeks. "How ya feelin'? Like a new person?"

"...I don't think I can feel my vagina anymore." You say aimlessly, happy to know your drained self has the older man laughing.

"Sorry 'bout that, mama." He brings his lips to your forehead. "Be lucky I'm tired from that wedding and flight. Otherwise, I'd be fuckin' the shit out of you all night." He snickers at your helpless expression, shaking your head at such a fantasy. There's all the time in your honeymoon for that.

You use whatever strength you have left to bring your hands to his face to cup. "Thank you for sparing me, my lovely husband."

Toji hums with a smile, the scar on the right of his lip lifted. And he kisses you until fatigue takes over you both, sleep being the only thing that shuts you from the outside world. The warmth of your embrace and the connection of your bodies are proof of the start of your newlywedded life.

[zevrra]

never forget—

synopsis: where sebastian is actually worried about MC and regrets casting crucio on them caaaause that moment in the game was not enough for me pfft!

tags: 18(+), lil angst, mostly fluff, sebastian(18) x reader, i didn’t know how to end this oops, one-shot, 2k words.

“Crucio!”

The pain that followed that one little word was excruciating.

Yet the spell casted upon you was of your own doing. You, Ominis, and Sebastian had become good friends since your first day at Hogwarts. Always together, always the 3 of you somehow in trouble. Well, mostly you and Sebastian. Somehow Ominis always managed to get out of the trouble the two of you dragged him into. You were Slytherin after all, it was most likely in your blood.

When you first met Sebastian, he had such an eager to learn that his demeanor was contagious. So much so you couldn’t help but also want to gain more knowledge with him over the years. It was all thanks to Ominis from keeping you two from ending up expelled. Your savior in a sense. But ever since the three of you had become good friends, Sebastian never let up about Salazar Slytherin. He was set on finding his Scriptorium, begging Ominis for so long to show him the way. Seeing as he believed finding it would help cure his sister’s, Anne, curse.

When Ominis had finally given into you both and led the way, the three of you worked wonderfully together. Traversing dark and wary caves. Fending off giant spiders, solving puzzles all that good stuff. Until finally you reach a room with a single note, bones buried in dirt, no way out, the word CRUCIO etched into the stone before your feet, and what looked to be a screaming apparition burned onto a mirror.

You sadly read the note aloud for all to hear. Detailing a grim last few words from Ominis’s aunt. Who unfortunately had gone looking for the Scriptorium, alone, and met an untimely fate. You reach out to gently touch Ominis’s shoulder and he stills beneath your touch.

“I’m so sorry about your aunt, Omni.” You mourn. He nods in acceptance. Nothing they did now could’ve changed what had happened to his aunt. He would at least find some peace in knowing what happened to her.

Sebastian is at your side then. Concerned look on his own freckled face. “Ominis…I know it’s hard. But the letter details using Crucio. You’re the best suited for this—“

“No! I won’t do it. To use Crucio you have to mean it. I will not cast that spell ever again…especially on you two.” Ominis steps away from your reach. Closing off from the activity entirely. You didn’t blame him.

You turn to face Sebastian then who looks..almost disappointed with Ominis's rejection. He gestures for you to follow him closer to the wailing mirror. Hauntingly beautiful, even in its twisted state.

“Well, two options. You cast Crucio on me, or I…cast it on you. It’s the only way we’re getting out of here. We can’t die here and now because of—of morals.” Sebastian whispers to you. The thought of dying in that suffocating tomb alone makes your skin crawl.

Ominis had always been vocal about how horrible any of the killing curses were, especially this spell. Seeing as he was forced to cast it when he was younger. The nightmares still haunt the blonde from what you could tell. His sleepless nights. The flinch at loud noises. It was obvious, whatever you decided, that this would forever weigh heavy on your soul. Yet the spell…could come in handy when facing Ranrok. He was your enemy after all.

You hoped it would never come down to using it though.

“Fine. Teach me the spell but you…you cast it on me. I won’t hurt you Seb.” You mumble. And at first, he’s hesitant. His wand slightly swayed before he reluctantly nods. His hands slightly shake as he teaches you the wave of the wand. He had never performed the dark arts before and this could go very wrong or just really wrong. Either way was going to hurt. But you trusted him.

That’s how you ended up in the here and now. Agonizing pain ripped through your flesh like lightning. Flames behind your eyeballs that force them to shut tight. Hoping to ease the pain away. Your teeth gnash against your lip to hold back screams of pain. It does nothing. Dark magic moves under your skin like writhing red and green tentacles. You gasp between almost suffocating screams.

Breathe in, scream, breathe out.

Your back is against the stone, arched, burning hot. Even as Ominis, or maybe it was Sebastian’s, or both of their hands are grabbing at your arms. Cool fingers press into your hot flesh as the boy’s try to lift you from the floor.

They try to comfort you during one of the worst moments of your life. It doesn’t help. They both fumble as they move you into the room that opened up behind the wailing mirror. The pain is nauseating. Every fumble, correction, and movement makes your stomach churn. Threatening to spill out your lunch. Your consciousness is slowly fading at this point. Stars blinking behind your eyelids as you grasp for whatever you can to stay awake.

Through the pulsing pain in your head and ears, you barely hear the two boys arguing. More or less Ominis yelling about how he was right. How this was a stupid idea as he struggles to help carry you. Ominis can’t see where he steps yet he’s trying so hard to save you now.

“You—you’re both idiots!” Ominis snarls. Struggling with words through his rage and panic. “How could you do something like this!”

“I understand, Ominis! Just—just, Merlin, help me! Help me get to the infirmary!” Sebastian spits back as they continue to fumble around, looking for an exit.

The last thing you hear is Sebastian calling for desperate help before the pain becomes too much and finally takes you under. Passing out from the curse spell later than you would’ve liked.

When concussions come back to you, it’s almost unbearable. Your eyes flutter open but fall closed once again. Maybe you could just stay like that for forever. Lying on a cloud, nice and warm, with your eyes closed. Eh, sounds a little too much like death for your liking.

Thankfully, your second attempt at waking up is far more fruitful. Candlelight flickers rapidly at the edge of your feet as your eyes slowly come into focus. You make out the white sheets laying across your body. Feel the firm mattress against your back. Connecting the dots, slowly but surely, that you were in the infirmary.

Your head moves slightly to continue looking around. Hoping a nurse was close by so you could ask for some water or medicine or anything to make the dull ache in your body stop. Instead your eyes find Sebastian.

His unruly brown hair is somehow even messier than usual. He slumps against the side of your bed and from what you can tell, he might be asleep. Seeing as it was sometime during the night. If you had to guess he probably snuck into the infirmary to be at your side.

Suddenly memories of what happened in the Scriptorium come back to you. Sending a harsh chill down your entire body. The cast of Crucio echoes in the back of your mind. You’ll never forget the feeling. Or the look on Seb’s face as he waved the spell and casted it upon you.

‘Crucio can only be cast if you mean it.’ You remember Ominis’s haunting words. Sebastian must’ve meant it. But you try your best to not blame him. He was just trying to get you all out of that stone grave.

“Seb…” You try to speak. Your throat burns as you attempt to rouse the sleeping man at your side. Voice hoarse, borderline gone, from what you can only assume is from the screaming you barely remember doing. “Sebastian.” You barely manage his full name.

His body shifts at the sound of his name but he doesn’t rise. So you make your way to sit up. Although the moment you prepare to sit up, weight shifting ever so slightly, Sebastian shoots up instantly. His pretty green eyes meet your gaze in a wild look. As if he can’t believe you’re awake. Dried drool sticks to the edge of his lips. You can’t help but laugh. Or what you assume is a laugh. To Seb it probably sounds like you’re coughing.

“I—we—are you okay?” Seb stumbles over his words. Knowing Sebastian, he most likely had something planned to say the moment you woke up. Yet now he was almost speechless. For the first time ever.

“I’m o-okay just…w-water.” You manage to mumble. Now he’s quick to react. A glass of water is held out with lightning speed to you and you take it graciously.

After a moment of what felt like an eternity of being parched, you chug the water given to you, before you hand the glass off and sit fully upright. Your fingers lay in your lap, picking at the cotton of the blanket.

Silence falling between the two of you was so uncommon. It almost felt worse than writhing in pain. Not really but the wall built up was hard to ignore. You needed that wall to come down.

“How long was I asleep?” You ask softly. Breaking the silence as your throat is finally feeling better after some water.

“Three days,” Sebastian replies. He doesn’t look at you. You don’t blame him, not really. The guilt must weigh heavy on his shoulders.

Three days. The fact that it had been days since you had passed out in the scriptorium made your gut twist. You can’t even imagine what rumors must have spread among the school. Or the amount of questions the headmaster will be asking you. Oh you were definitely in for some trouble.

“I’m so sorry.”

Apologies were not something Sebastian was known for. The fact that he was apologizing at all was almost shocking. You didn’t have to guess that he didn’t really mean it when he casted Crucio. It was all just a matter of choices, for you all to survive.

“It’s okay,” Your voice is soft as you speak. “I don’t want you to blame yourself. I agreed to it Sebastian,” You remind him. It only makes Seb angrier with himself.

“Of course I blame myself! I could’ve killed you!” Sebastian says in a strained voice. He wants to scream and yell. He wants you to scream and yell at him. For letting him do something so stupid. For not listening to Ominis in the first place. For being too eager.

“It was a matter of life or death Seb you know that—“ You began to say but he cuts you off as he quickly stands from his chair.

“But what if there was another way!? What if I didn’t have to…didn’t want to—I could’ve changed something!” He angrily hisses as he turns his head away from you.

Silences befalls between the two of you again. Stretched longer than previously as you can’t think of something to say. He had three days to beat himself up for dragging all three of you to that scriptorium. You couldn’t imagine how many scenarios he himself had imagined over and over again while in your slumber.

“What if I had lost you?”

The soft words are barely loud enough to hear. Just a whisper under his breath you almost can’t manage to make out. But you do. The somber confession comes at you like a heavy rainstorm. Unexpected, welcoming, lovely, and a little noisy from his previous minor outburst. Building from a small drop to a straight downpour and you’re caught in the middle of it with no umbrella.

Even in the candlelight you see the tips of ears, beat red as he refuses to look at you. Shoulders tense as he tries to will himself to calm down. It was late, you weren’t supposed to be awake, and he wasn’t supposed to be there. It was not the time for this conversation.

Yet it makes you smile anyway. Butterflies jump around under your skin, in your heart, stomach following suit in doing somersaults. You reach with a gentle hand and grab hold of his shirt sleeve, giving it a tug. For a moment he stands completely still. Debating whether or not it was the right moment to hash all of this out. It wasn’t. Yet a second tug on his sleeve has him turning to finally look at you.

This time when you meet his green eyes, his wild look is gone. He looks at you like you’re the cure to whatever alignment he’s currently experiencing. It’s a saddened, sleepless, relieved look. Feeling every emotion he’s ever felt in his life all in the span of a few short seconds.

You smile fondly at Sebastian, praying he could see it in the soft light of the infirmary. “But you didn’t,” You remind him. Almost gesturing to you, him, and your surroundings. “I’m still here, Seb.”

Sebastian simply nods. Not having the courage to speak for it may bring him to tears. Now that would truly be the end of the world if that happened.

You reach for his hand. Reassuring and gentle as your fingers intertwine with his. He’s stiff as a board at your touch. He has always yearned for it but never had the faith to act upon his feelings.

“Plus, it’ll take more than that to get rid of me.” You say hoping to ease the young man’s feelings. At least for tonight.

A squeeze to your hand is the only response you receive as he returns to his seat. He rests your connected hands on the bed before his head follows suit. Instead of returning to the side of your bed he makes himself comfy on your thigh. You smile at the puzzling picture before you.

The great Sebastian Sallow, a man who rarely asks for any help, unless it involves trekking in some dark cave somewhere, was vulnerably sprawled out on top of you.

You stifle a giggle, fearing if he heard you laugh he would assume the worst and pull away. Instead your free hand pushes through his hair. Pushing away dark curly hair from his freckled face.

“You should return to the dorms before the nurse finds you.” You hum as your eyes scan his own closed eyes. Gazing at the lengths of his eyelashes. Every freckle you could see, thinking how fun it could be to count them one day.

“‘Ts fine,” Sebastian shrugs it off. You hear the softness of his breathing, slowly becoming shallow as he falls asleep. Fast asleep in your thigh with his hand tightly wound to yours. You wish you could have a painting done of this moment. Hoping by every ounce of magic in your veins that you never forget this feeling or the sight. And by Merlin does the sight make your heart ache and pound in equal parts.

You just hoped to never go through something like this ever again. Hopefully Sebastian would see how powerful and dangerous the dark arts could be and look for another solution to healing Anne’s curse. Maybe the ancient magic you wield could help next time instead of turning to the unforgiving curses.

[drvirgus]

i have a very cute request where yn and hanni/minji (you decided heheh) was babysitting a relative kids and during the nightime the kid came knocking on the door of your bedroom saying there is a monster in the closet (interrupting your time with them) and now both of you need to comfort the kid and just play along on kicking the imaginary monster’s ass

Hopefully you like it🤗🤗

a/n: I was half asleep when I wrote it 🥱🥱 sry if it’s bad 🫣🫣

Babysitting

Hanni x Reader

Description: You and Hanni are on vacation in Australia. But you promised your mother that you would take care of your cousin Josh. Now you, Hanni and Josh spend a day together.

Warnings: smut if you squint ur eyes

wc: 2k

One shot:

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With my all-too-familiar puppy eyes, I looked at my girlfriend. We had just arrived in Australia, as we had decided to take a vacation together here. Naturally, this also meant getting to know my girlfriend's family and her getting to know mine.

"But Y/n, we said we would visit the other cities," the slightly younger one complained as she felt me repeatedly tugging at the arm of the person of equal height.

"Please, I promised my mom?" I almost whined as I kept tugging at her, which made her sigh again. "Okay," replied the slightly younger one, starting to smile. A sigh escaped her lips as I saw her shoulders relax in defeat, and she began to nod. "Fine, but only because your mother wants it," my girlfriend responded with a small smile on her face, rolling her eyes simultaneously.

Grinning broadly, I jumped up a bit, releasing the grip on the idol's arm. "Great, my aunt is already on her way," I announced, causing Hanni to raise her eyebrows in disbelief. She looked at me incredulously for a few seconds before sighing once more and shaking her head.

"Why exactly do they need a babysitter?" the slightly younger one asked, looking curious. She sat down on the couch and leaned back. "My uncle has birthday, and they're going away this weekend. But don't worry, the child is only staying overnight here, and my mom will pick him up tomorrow morning," I explained as I settled down next to Hanni.

Understandingly, the woman beside me nodded, and a sigh escaped her throat as she rested her head on my shoulder. A hum immediately escaped the younger one as she felt my arm around her shoulder. "I would have preferred to spend my time only with you," my girlfriend muttered, visibly pouting, which made me grin broadly.

Almost immediately, I kissed the person of equal height on the head as I relaxed, leaning against the comfortable couch. "You just want to get me into bed," I replied playfully, prompting Hanni to gently slap my leg, making me laugh.

Amused, she simply shook her head. It didn't take long until I felt Hanni pushing me completely onto the couch, her body now on top of mine. Her hair fell onto my face, causing me to close my eyes immediately and twitch a bit as one of her strands fell into my eye.

"Oops, sorry," the younger one said as she ran her hand through her hair. My mouth opened as I watched Hanni brush her hair back. God... I always found it sexy when she did that.

"Come here," I murmured softly as I wrapped my arms around her waist and lifted my head until her lips met mine. I felt her warm and gentle hand wander under my T-shirt, pulling it up slightly. Her hand gently stroked my heated skin until it reached my bra. My eyes opened slightly as my hands also wandered under her top, simply resting on her back.

"Baby," I uttered between the gentle kisses, which slowly but surely became more passionate. Her breath against my cheek as she deepened the kiss and silenced me. My eyes widened as I felt Hanni capture my lower lip between her teeth and pull it. A gasp escaped me, seemingly spurring the younger one to continue.

Unfortunately, the doorbell rang, and simultaneously, we groaned in annoyance. "Should I send them away?" I almost immediately suggested as I saw Hanni stand up from me and run her hand through her hair once again. A small laugh escaped her lips as she looked at me. "Oh no, you've already gotten us into this," my girlfriend replied as she got up from the couch.

Rolling my eyes, I groaned and stood up from the couch as well. Annoyed that Hanni teased me and then let me down, my forehead furrowed and my eyes narrowed. Hanni giggled as she saw my expression and promptly opened the door with a smile on her face.

I immediately joined her, and my arm instinctively wrapped around my girlfriend's slender waist as I greeted my aunt and my little cousin. It didn't take long for my aunt to hastily and visibly stressed hand me the child's bag and bid farewell with quick, thankful words.

My eyes immediately fell on the child, who was now around 6-7 years old. Smiling, I removed my hand from my girlfriend's waist. "Come on, Josh, we've already cooked something for you," I said as I returned to the living room and placed the bag on the couch. Nervously, Josh simply stood beside me, playing with his shirt and shyly looking at the floor.

"Cute," I heard softly, and immediately I looked at Hanni, who, however, only looked at Josh. A wide grin spread across her face as she leaned down a bit. "Are you hungry?" my girlfriend asked, and Josh nodded slowly. His big brown eyes looked straight at Hanni, which made me smirk. I watched as Hanni nodded and gestured for him to follow.

Josh was pretty cute. Although he had always been quite shy and clingy, he was sweet.

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

Sighing, I let myself fall carelessly onto the bed, my eyes immediately focused on the ceiling above me as I sighed once again. Every muscle in my body ached, and I was pretty much done with life. All day long, Hanni and I had been playing with Josh. Over and over, he wanted to play something new, draining every last ounce of energy from both of us. Until I finally managed to put him to sleep.

Turning my head to the side, I saw Hanni lying next to me, her eyes already closed as she simply snuggled into the blanket. A smile spread across my face. "Baby?" I whispered softly as I scooted closer to the person who was trying to sleep.

The idol hummed something to indicate that she heard me. My hand immediately wrapped around her waist as I pressed closer to her back. "We're alone," I murmured softly as my lips found their way to my girlfriend's shoulder. I felt Hanni shift slightly, probably to look at me from her shoulder.

"What about Josh?" she asked, visibly concerned, which made me chuckle. My hand slipped under her shirt as I felt her skin against mine. "He's sound asleep. Don't worry," I replied as I kissed her shoulder gently, trailing soft, wet kisses up to her neck. A gasp escaped her throat as I gently bit her neck.

"So?" I asked softly as my fingers slowly made their way from her waist to her stomach, playfully pinching her there. "Or are you too tired?" I asked, now a bit quieter, audibly disappointed. All day long, all I wanted was to feel her body against mine. Especially since she had teased me earlier.

Hanni moved and turned in my arms. "I'm never too tired for you," the slightly younger one breathed as she immediately connected her lips with mine. Smiling, I lifted her top even higher until my hand felt the curve of her breast. Immediately, I massaged her breast with gentle pressure.

"Is this how our married life will look like?" Hanni asked, now lightly laughing as she opened her eyes slightly to look at me. Smiling, I moved to be above the person of equal height. My knee between her legs, while my left hand never left her breast. Grinning, I looked into her eyes. "Isn't that a bit too far into the future, Ms. Pham?" I asked teasingly as I connected our lips.

I could feel my hairs standing on end as I felt Hanni's hands move from my hips up to my back, carefully following my spine. A shiver ran through my body, causing me to tremble slightly. "I love you, Hanni," I murmured softly against her lips as I now connected our lips into a hungry kiss.

My knee pressed against her center, causing her to gasp. Her nails dug into my back in response, which made me grin. My lips trailed down to her jawline, down to her neck as my tongue grazed her skin before I gently bit her neck, leaving quite an obvious mark.

I wasn't usually allowed to do this, as my girlfriend here was a pretty famous K-Pop idol, and she was constantly swarmed by cameras.

"Y/n," the idol beneath me gasped as her arms wrapped around my neck, one of her hands in my hair. "Stop teasing me. Please," the younger one pleaded, which made me chuckle. I lifted my head from her neck and looked into my beautiful girlfriend's eyes. "Oh, and what about this afternoon when you did it to me?" I asked, causing Hanni to roll her eyes. My fingers were on her already hard nipple.

"Help!"

Startled, I jerked away and immediately moved from Hanni when I noticed Josh, without regard for the wall, slamming the door open and looking at us anxiously. His cheeks were somewhat damp from the tears he had already shed. My mouth opened slightly, and I immediately stood up from the bed and went to him. "What's wrong?" I asked, concerned, as my hand rested on his small shoulder.

The flushed Hanni also stood up from the bed, and God, I was glad we hadn't undressed yet...

"T-There's a monster," the little one said fearfully as he took my hand and gestured for me to follow him. I looked questioningly at Hanni, who simply shrugged her shoulders. Together, we went to the room where Josh was trying to sleep. He really gripped my hand tightly.

Anxiously, he pointed to the closet. "There's a monster," the younger one said fearfully. Apparently, he expected us to check it out. Blinking, I looked at the closet for a while, then back at Josh. "You don't need to be afraid, Josh," I said gently, starting to smile encouragingly. I gently ran my hand through his hair. "There's no monster here," I assured the younger one, but it seemed he wasn't satisfied with that.

"Can you... check?"

I immediately looked at Hanni, but my girlfriend shook her head immediately. "Oh no. I've seen enough horror movies to know I'm not looking in there under any circumstances," Hanni said seriously as she took a step backward. I sighed heavily and rolled my eyes immediately.

"Okay. I'll check," I said now and let go of Josh's hand. Almost immediately, he went to Hanni and took her hand. I wasn't sure if she was comforting him or the other way around. I had to laugh a bit.

Quietly, I now went to the closet, feeling my heartbeat quicken. But I couldn't show Josh that I was currently scaring myself. I've watched too many horror movies too!!!

"You see?" I said relieved as I opened the closet door and noticed nothing unusual. "No monster," I added now with a smile on my face as I turned to Josh and Hanni. With my hand, I now pointed to the open closet, causing Josh and Hanni to look into the closet with curious eyes.

Nervously, Josh sniffed once as he wiped away the tears with the sleeve of his pajamas. "Can I... sleep with you?" he asked now as he looked first at me and then at Hanni. He pouted tearfully. Hanni immediately smiled as she gently stroked his head. "Of course," she answered gently.

No! I just wanted a few minutes alone with my girlfriend...

Sighing, I chuckled now as I nodded in agreement. Immediately, Josh smiled, and together we went back to our room. Josh now between Hanni and me as he fell asleep shortly after. He was probably pretty tired from all the playing today. My eyes first on the little one until I looked at my girlfriend. Hanni smiled at me.

"So, if we get married, we'll wait with kids," I said quietly, careful not to accidentally wake Josh. Hanni chuckled softly. "Deal," she replied quietly and gave me a fleeting kiss on the lips. With one last, slightly dissatisfied sigh, I lay down properly and tried to sleep.

But... somehow I liked the thought of it...

Marrying Hanni...

[cherriesformatt]

waiting || chris sturniolo

chrisxfem!reader

summary: when reader and chris are about to become parents

warnings: fluff

word count: 2k

a/n: My first story for Chris who cheers 🫢 I did not proof read yet! I hope you like it ❤️ Thank you for the request.

🍒

I was nervously checking the test every second sitting on a closed toilet seat. Chris was staring at it too while sitting on the bathtub edge. We had some scares before, but this one? This one felt a little too real.

We were in Boston for few days now and his mom made her famous shepherd's pie that I loved so much. But it just made me sick and I just have been feeling very weird lately and with my period late it just could mean one thing.

And let me tell you, both of us just looked like we saw a ghost. We have been laughing when Matt and Tilly had an accident - that oops great it wasn't us. Their daughter was born few weeks ago and we are here because they brought her to meet whole family.

But here we fucking go. Two red lines on both of the tests I was holding.

"Fuck...." I heavily breathed out.

I looked at Chris and he looked at me and also let the air out of his lungs as he held his breath for a little. He took his hat of to fix his hair and he put it back on. He put his hand on my thigh.

"I cannot believe this.. I wanna say it's karma but that would be a little mean" He said.

His tone was so calm that it actually made my crazy because I wanted to scream.

"We were teasing them for whole nine months so there we go hun.... our time to shine" I said and hid my face in my hands.

"y/n.... We got this, okay? I know I am a fucking big baby...and you had different plans but... we got this. Anything you decide to do....we got this" He hugged me tight to his body.

Of course I wanted to keep the baby. It was no other choices for me. We have been together for almost two year. I love Chris so much but we just came to the path that we were very happy just two of us. We had a rocky first year awith both of us having trust and commitment issues it wasn't easy and now I will have to share him with our baby.

"I know we do..." I said into his neck.

We didn't tell anyone on this trip because we waned this time to be only Matt's and Tilli's attention spot. But we did tell them right after we came back to LA. Jimmy and Marylou were with us because they wanted to help out with little Noa.

Me and Chris were both lazy souls and we were too overwhelmed to come up with like a cute idea to tell everyone. We just decided to do it.

"So...Noa is going to be a big cousin...surprise!" Chris said when we were all at the dinner table at Matt's house.

"What the fuck are you saying bro?" Matt looked at him with wide eyes.

'I am pregnant" I said looking at him and smiled a little.

"Was that like planned? Is it my turn too? What is this?" Nick laughed.

"Believe me it was not...."I said quietly.

"y/n honey... thats why you were so under the weather in Boston... sweats congratulations" Their mom hugged my tight.

Jimmy hugged Chis too and we just answered all the questions they had before Tilly took me and gave me all the advices and have me her pregnancy stuff she had packed to give away.

Other than the first few weeks the pregnancy was very easy on me. Chris was there for every appointment and he seemed to be really exited. I knew how he loved watching his brother becoming a father but I didn't know he is going to be that much happy about being one as well right now.

I was happy too, we made a space, we were stable, we could make the best for the baby. But we were also very young and that was just scary.

"Nick... I am not doing anything weird, can we just like.. go to the beach? On sunset... I do not need any dresses or flowers. I just need Chris and we should take Matt, Tilly and Noa for the photoshoot" I said to the oldest triplet.

"Okay, okay I knew you will going to say that.... You and Chris are just so basic... " He said.

I asked him to take our pregnancy photos, so we could have it for ourselves.

"If you would ask Chris I am pretty sure he would want our pregnancy photo shoot on Summer Smash stage with Lil Skies" I laughed.

He did as well because he knew I was right. Nick and I were alone at his house because Chris and Matt were gone to the festival. It took me and Tilly two weeks to convince them to go. They were very overprotecting of us. Matt said he would go when they will go to Chicago with him so Tilly did. But I had a lot of work to do here so I couldn't. So Chris said yes but only if I would stay over at Nick's so he will know I am safe.

"You are actually impossible you know?" He said when he walked in to our apartment and saw me painting walls in our son's room.

I was 7 months pregnant. My belly was really big already but I was feeling great. We just had a little gender reveal party for our friends and family. We waited for so long because we didn't know if we want to know but then both of us couldn't wait so we let Tilly organize one for us. We were going to have a boy. Chris was over the moon.

"I was bored and I am fine Chris" I said from the ladder..

"Get down here bro...I do not care you're giving me hart attack. I would you I will do it" He helped me down.

"I love you Chris but I am literally not made of glass" I hugged him and have him quick kiss.

"Yes you are...I missed you both today..." He put his hands on my belly and smiled.

"We missed you too" I said and smiled.

That night we were laying in bed reading. Yes, reading. Both of us were reading parenting books from Tilly.

"This is bullshit it is making me very anxious and I feel like the birth school is enough" He put the book down.

"Me too... honestly I have been thinking the same... everyone keeps telling us what to do and how... and it doesn't help. I mean, sure I take all the advice but in the same time I feel like we need to learn by ourself when he will be here" I said pitting book down.

"We should...You should rest and have the last months of this pregnancy for you...without any stress. And it is our last months just two of us...I wanna spend nice time with you without all of this" He took our books and put them down.

He took my hands into his and gave both of them a kiss.

"Come on a baby moon trip with me? Just two of us..." He asked looking at me and I smiled.

"Chris... this is so sweet" I said.

"Of course..." I aded and leaned in to kiss him.

We both decided that we felt the most comfortable and happy on Cape Cod in the cabin. That's also were we met so we wanted to go there. We rented our own cabin just in case his family wanted to use the other one. It was summer time so they were coming a lot. And also because we just really wanted to be alone. We spend everyday on the beach if it wasn't too hot for me. If it was we would just stay in and watch tv or play games together. I couldn't be more happier than I was with him there.

"You do cheesy sometimes...That I think my eyes are watering" I said when I saw him putting seashells in heart shape on my belly.

"Shut up.... it is cute" He said and made my pose to pictures.

"You're cute....youre such a dad already" I laughed looking at him.

"No I am not...youre just really beautiful" He laughed while laying down next to me on his stomach and on his the towel.

"Thank you Chris.... for that and for taking me here..." I said.

"Anytime mama" He kissed my nose and I scrunch it.

"Calling me mama is crazy" I laughed at him and he only wiggled his eyebrows at me.

And all the tiktoks about how you always thought your partner was hot but after seeing him carrying your baby home it is just something else? Well....seeing Chris with our son in his carseat on our way from the hospital to the car. I was ready to have another one right there.

He was so natural already. He was there for whole process panicking, but he was there. We both cried as hell when they put our baby on my chest. He cut the cord and he couldn't stop staring at our little man.

Our son was healthy and really loud. Thats how we knew Chris was the father. I am joking but for real little guy was a copy of Chris. He looked exactly like the triplets when they ere born.

We decided to name him Cali. We both were struggling with name and when we were watching tv one day someone used it as a name and we just looked at each other and we knew that this is going to be the name. I wanted it to start with C like Chris's name which he was happy about and said that if we have a daughter one day he wants her name to start with my initials.

As we brought Cali home he was a different baby. He was calm and we slept and ate well. I couldn't stop taking pictures of him and Chris. He was such a boy dad. All the stories he was telling him and they both napped together. He was doing everything equally with me. The changing, the feeding, bath time. Everything. I was very proud of how we handled it all.

Noa was Cali's biggest fan. She was almost one. She was walking already and every time they were over here she couldn't stop just sitting next to Cali. She was giving him her binky and just hugging him. We even took a picture where it looks like she is holding him by herself.

"Now tell me... isn't this the hotter thing ever?" Tilly asked me when we were watching Chris and Matt from the kitchen.

"Tilly...it fucking is I swear to god I am ready to have 5 more" I said and sat on the kitchen island next to her. We were having some wine and Chips.

Matt and Chris were playing on xbox while Cali was asleep on Chris's chest and Noa was asleep on Matt's. Nick wasn't here because he had some kind of event going on.

"Just bunch of dads" she laughed and took a sip from her glass.

"Dilfs if you ask me" I added and put my empty glass down.

"Alright... you know that we can hear you, right? I am going to confiscate the wine... I swear" Matt looked at us.

"Oh shut up you love it...."Tilly said and he just shook his head.

"Also 5 more is crazy baby...But I am fluttered" Chris looked at me. and winked.

I laughed and me and Tilly cleaned up a little and went to seat next to them.

I couldn't believe that we had two babies in the family and one of them was mine. I was a mother and it honestly was the best thing that happened to me. My missing piece.

My little family was all I needed right now.

[pursuitseternal]

“Beg me…” Ascended Astarion tells you, you naughty darling… highly NSFW drabble

Also known as I blinked and wrote 2K of dom!Ascended Astarion x turned female reader. Oops 😇😈

Ascended Astarion x f!reader |E| 2K of BDSM

Summary: you burn, waiting for his return, waiting for your punishment…. Waiting for him

CW: degradation, BDSM, bondage, orgasm denial, and the sweet satisfaction that comes with its fulfillment

Continue for your delicious recompense…

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You lay stretched on the bed, arms numb from where they are tugged tight, bound to the headboard far above you. Your legs however, you wiggle, writhing, the ache he’s left between your thighs still burning hot.

And you are powerless to do anything about it. Your folds tingle, left untouched, unsated for the hour he’s been gone. And all you’ve been allowed to do is watch as the clock ticks, left wanting as he attends to matters of state.

Punishment.

You seemed a little too friendly with some Druid, someone… you don’t even remember his name. But the smile you gave was enough to stoke Astarion’s ire and flame his jealousy. Enough to have him sweep you away and bind you to your bed. To tease you with his fingers and tongue until you were close.. so close to bursting. Only to have him pull away.

And then he ordered you… compelled you… not to lose your focus on just how badly you wanted him.

You don’t know for certain if it was your bond, as master and bride, as maker and spawn, that kept your loins absolutely on fire for him, or if it was just the magic of your lust for him.

Does it matter? Not a jot, not as you squeeze your thighs together, the sheets beneath you soaked with your arousal as you wait.

Footsteps approach your door, whimpers escaping your mouth as you tug at your bindings. The clock begins to strike the hour, its resonant chime deafening to your ears, every sense of your body burns with overstimulation. You can almost smell him on the other side of the door, the waft of spice and bergamot making your mouth water.

Making your cunt drip more down to the bed as you hear the faint click of the key in the lock.

The bolt draws back, and he enters at last. His face is cold, eyes heavy-lidded as he turns his back on you to shut the door.

And to lock it again. Pocketing the key inside his doublet.

Your heart races, a slight edge of fear spiking your pulse and clamping around your lungs.

But he only shushes you. “Oh, you naughty little girl,” he sneers. “Glad to smell you’re still so hot for me,” he croons as he turns and crosses to the bedside. Instantly, he shoves three long, cold digits into your cunt.

The hum of approval from his throat is nearly enough to send you into bliss. But he simply withdraws his touch. Not a stroke, or a curl or catch on your clit. He merely pulls away to wipe your slick on your panting belly. “There’s hope for you yet, my sweet…” his eyes flash, his body coming to cage you in, the bed buckling beneath you as he slinks over you, careful not to let one inch of his body touch yours. “….that is assuming you still want me? That you’re not ever going to throw seductive smiles and come-hither eyes at anyone else.”

“I wasn’t…” you moan, but his hand flies to cover your mouth, fingers tangy and wet from your arousal.

“Shhh, don’t you insult me by arguing,” that gaze rakes down your naked figure. His lips curl into a sad sort of smirk. “The least you can do is assure me, darling, that you are mine…”

You nod, vigorously. Your breath stifled, his palm over your mouth and nose. He lifts it away, smiling as you gasp for air. “Yours, only ever yours, my love,” you pant. You strain against the silken bonds that still pull at your wrists.

“Better,” he purrs, “much better. Your body says as much, as well. But you’ll still have to prove it, darling. Prove to me that your words are not false.” The tips of his fingers ghost down your neck, trailing feather light between your shaking breasts and circling over your clenching belly.

His hand comes to slink beneath your ass, his hand clutching hard as suddenly he flips you on the mattress. All that power surges from him, stinging your skin as your world spins. Your numb arms ache, your face buried into the silken sheets. The sounds of his clothing rustling is the only warning you get before you feel the hard, cold lines of his body coming to rest on your back.

He bears all his weight down on you. Crushing you. Suffocating you. But his kiss at the sensitive spot beneath your ear is gentle. His voice, that honeyed melody that only makes you wetter. Hotter. “Are you going to be good, my sweet, sweet little slut, so wet and needy?” He takes your ear between his teeth, his sucking kiss deafening, making your whole spine tingle and twitch under him.

You nod, breathless, pained. You moan, “yes,” wanting nothing more than to show how much you do desire him. To show him how wrong he is to doubt you. You shiver, burning and throbbing in agony. But then you feel his kisses, trailing down the curve of your spine. Heavy, sucking, they ground you. Soothe you. His hands lift your hips, holding you steady, fingers sweeping through your drenched seam, catching your clit with just enough force to make you buck against him.

“How badly do you want me, darling?” he rasps in your ear, bracing an arm by your head to press his hissing lips right against your temple. “You tell me, you beg me, and I might do something about it, my love.”

“So badly,” you buck your hips against his hand, feeling his fingers slide deep inside your channel.

He chuckles as he strokes you. “But how badly, darling?” He withdraws his hands, his tongue lapping at your ear to send tangible shivers through your frame. “Badly enough for you to beg?” Those fingers catch that secret spot only he knows between your slick walls. “Badly enough to have you on all fours, keening for me to fuck you?”

“I… beg... you…” you do keen, relief instantly flooding your core as his fingers dive right back in, as they assume a demanding pace, one finger teasing your clit with such command and precision, your vision blurs.

“Good girl… for now… but you have been such a bad, lustful slut, you know,” he purrs into the creases of your ear, the weight of his body easing as he shifts behind you, his hand caressing over every inch of you, the other still stroking deep inside, bringing you so close to your bliss, you can taste its sweetness and feel its tingling heat just starting to crest.

But then, with a low-throated giggle, he extracts his touch, “You better beg me again for my mercy, better show me you’re not just willing to spread your legs for any powerful male that comes sniffing after you…” fingers claw into the fullness of your ass, squeezing it as he growls in your ear. “After all, you were so easy to seduce, to make you mine… always so wet and greedy and eager for a fuck… maybe a little reminder of how much you’re mine is in order.”

You feel the swell of his cock’s head pressing just at the edge of your folds.

“Remind me all you want, my love, but I know I'm yours alone,” You want to cry, tears in your eyes and drool in your mouth as you moan, “So please, dammit, I beg you. I’ll only ever be yours, and you know it.”

“I do know it,” he croons, mock condescension warming his voice as he slides his length in just an inch or two before he pulls back out, “but I do just so like to hear it from those lips of yours, darling.”

“Fuck you, Astarion,” you groan as he does it again, just the bulge of his head dipping into your wetness.

“That’s what you want… isn’t it?” he taunts you, that silken wickedness in his voice, “for me to fuck you?” An arm wraps around your waist, a single finger slides between the crest of your folds to catch your clit again.

You groan, throat going sore with how loud you cry. “Yes, please, please, my love…” you pant. “My body, my smile, my glances are only for you,” you add. Praying, as he strokes you harder, dipping his cock in you shallowly again, that it’s enough.

“Oh my sweet,” he purrs, thrusting slowly until he fills you, the delicious length, the pressure finally making you whole, “now you’ll taste my mercy.” He laughs slowly. Darkly. “I hope you’ll last, hope you’ll take it like the good girl you want to be…”

Withdrawing, he slams into you, bottoming out at the edge of your channel. Pain. Pleasure. It’s all one. The saccharine relief of him buried and thrusting inside you finally soothing that burn you’ve had festering inside you for hours. You can’t even hold your head up anymore. You can barely keep your face high enough to breathe, letting him plunder you at his relentless pace. Gasping, twitching, bucking. You put all your remaining energy you haven’t had burned up with your desire for him into just riding his cock. Another catch on your clit, and you feel yourself hurling into orgasm. His hands hold you firmly up, even as you spasm and clench so hard around him, that length is almost forced out.

He laughs, slow and deep, setting you down, rolling you on your back as you still twitch with your eyes rolled back in ecstasy. “Another four orgasms should do the trick, don’t you think, my love… enough to make you learn your lesson.”

You groan, burying your mouth into the inside of your arm to hide the noise of pleasured anguish.

Slowly, languorously, he covers you with his body, its weight a comfort and an arousal, especially as you feel his knee tuck under yours to spread your folds wide. The breadth of his cock sweeping along the seam of your cunt.

“Four?” You gulp, already feeling another wave of climax burgeoning between your thighs. He gives a little thrust of his length over you, and then another. The hardness of his erection sweeps over you, catching every nerve that flares on fire for more in your slick. Your arms tug on the restraints, your head thrown back to press hard into the bed. Every muscle in your legs clenches, heat and pain and pleasure tingle, bursting down every nerve.

You scream as you come again, but it’s muted, covered by his own devouring mouth. “Three,” he breathes over your tongue. “Perhaps more, if you’re extra obedient, an extra good girl.” Reaching over your head, his finger slips into the silken binds around your wrists, the fabric instantly easing. Your hands fly to embrace him, your touch running up and down his back, riding the scars that cover him, gripping into the pert swell to his ass, pulling him even harder into you. You sigh, his cock returning inside you with a gentle little thrust. “My little love,” he purrs as his hand cradles your cheek softly. “Forever mine…” he gives a slow, attentive thrust, the undulation of his hips catching right on every tingling, overstimulated sensitive nerve inside you. “You’ll come for me again, won’t you? And you’ll let me come too?”

“Yes,” you moan, tangling your tongue with his. “For you my love,” you whisper into his mouth, “for you I’ll come for eternity.”

For @marimosalad ❤️

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Read More Ascended Astarion: “The Rogue You Were”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read More Vampire Rogue Astarion: “Bites in the Night” series

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

[ween-kitchens]

this started as a little drabble for an au and suddenly it's 2k words oops

in summary, scar is a wizard who was cursed into a statue for millennia, and eventually became the 'secret keeper' because everyone would confide in it. gem was the first to ask scar how it was doing

gem must not have been paying nearly enough attention to where she was walking, because she has somehow found herself in the secret keeper's grove. not that she minds, but- she could have sworn she started walking the complete opposite direction when she left her house. either gem is way worse at directions than she thought she was, or.. well, okay, she can't actually think of another reason, but she wanted to sound spooky. maybe there's some magical fate that has led her to this very spot- or she just doesn’t know her lefts from her rights.

well, whatever reason it ends up being, gem is stood awkwardly beneath the face of the statue, its eyes shut and face relaxed as if asleep. the cracks and vines across its body looks almost like scars, and gem has to appreciate its beauty. she has, of course, heard all the myths about this statue being some- evil wizard who went around killing people left right and centre, and was eventually turned to stone as punishment. whilst she doubts these stories are anything more than fairytales, gem has to admit that it'd be pretty cool if that was actually the case.

resting against one of the stone pillars in front of the secret keeper's statue, gem looks into its face. centuries of people confiding their deepest thoughts to this stone monolith, decades of fears and secrets and accomplishments all told to the resting face of what may or may not be an evil wizard from millennia ago. it's another very interesting thing, gem thinks, about how people will reach for any sense of attachment they can get. maybe that's why the statue was created in the first place; there is something about its face that draws gem to it, in an odd kind of way. 

"you know, I don’t suppose many people have asked how your day is going." gem says aloud, almost startling herself—she hadn't expected to actually say that.

unsurprisingly, the statue doesn’t respond, but something in its face looks- almost curious. is she making that up? she's probably making that up.

"I hope it's good." gem keeps talking anyway, because she honestly doesn't have anything much better to do anyway. "and if it's not, I hope it gets better."

she shifts a little on the earth, getting comfortable. in this new position, gem is instead facing another stone pillar rather than the keeper itself. "you’re a very lovely statue. I imagine it gets boring around here, but I suppose you have a lot of gossip to keep you going."

there's a kind of rustling from beside her, and she chalks it up to a bird of some sort—she is in the woods, after all. although- it might be someone else on the way to the secret keeper. that might be a little embarrassing, if they stumble across her asking a statue questions about its day.

"were you really an evil wizard, or is that just a story?" gem says idly, picking at imperfections in her nail polish.

"oh- i’d say greatly exaggerated." comes an unfamiliar voice.

gem looks up and shrieks in surprise, jumping to her feet. she immediately stumbles, almost falling flat on her face as she processes who just spoke. "you- how the-" 

a figure is now across the glade from her, looking somewhat bemused as it brushes its white hair from its eyes. the shawl over its shoulders is embroidered with sunflowers, and looks as if it'd been worn for quite some time—what with the tears and holes in the fabric. scars run across every visible part of its skin, some akin to the cracks in old stone, and some resembling battle scars.

the secret keeper blinks at her from where it (he?) sits on the grass, underneath the empty gap where the statue used to be. "oh- yeah, long story." it grins, brushing itself off. "I don't suppose you've seen a pair of crutches around here?"

"I- definitely not." gem says, practically frozen in place. what in wrath- how the- the secret keeper is a person now?? "it's- are you-"

the secret keeper scoffs, and gem can’t tell if it's playful or frustrated. maybe both. "oh- they'll have taken them again, no doubt. that's fine- i'll have my revenge!" it calls to the sky, before turning back to gem. "thank you for helping me out there- they've always  enjoyed playing tricks on me like that."

"what- no, I didn’t-" gem starts to say, but the secret keeper interrupts.

"how long was I stone, by the way?" it asks, offhand.

"oh." gem hesitates. "I- I don’t know how to tell you this. um- it's been a while."

the secret keeper pouts, brushing some stray stone dust from its shawl. "has it been a month again? I have things to do, y’know!"

"it's, um. it's been a thousand years, I think." gem says softly. 

she expects a huge reaction—after all, if someone had told gem that she'd been stuck as a statue for millennia, she'd be pretty upset. god- she can't imagine what that would make her feel; losing everything and everyone you know to time, whilst you stay exactly the same.

the secret keeper blinks, drops the pout and shrugs. "could have been worse." it says, voice surprisingly cheery. "oh- I bet my crutches will have disintegrated, or something." it's grinning like this is funny and not just cause for an existential crisis.

"I imagine so, yeah." gem says, as if she's not about to start freaking out over literally everything that's happening right now. "you- what are you gonna do now?"

the secret keeper pauses, and gem feels a little worry in having actually stumped it. "I, uh. that's a good question."

"if you want, you can stay with me and my friend for a while?" gem suggests, hoping that joel won't mind her bringing home a reincarnated statue to live with them. in her defence, he’s done weirder. 

the statue in question snorts. "I hope you're ready to be killed several times over." it grins, and gem's stomach drops. it seems to notice the look on her face and tacks on, "you guys can kill me too."

gem probably looks like she's seen a ghost, based on how the secret keeper frowns a little in concern. "I- how am i supposed to kill you if i’m dead?"

"wh- 'cause you’d come back?" the secret keeper looks as confused as gem feels. "why wouldn't you?"

"what do you mean, come back? if I die that's it." gem grins. "you’re joking, aren't you?"

the secret keeper shakes its head, less confused and more concerned. gem cannot seem to understand what's happening here. "did you- were you not given the blessing?"

"I.. don’t know what you’re talking about." gem says, smile beginning to slip from her face. "what blessing?"

"you don’t- the one that lets you regenerate?" the secret keeper says, almost frantic. when gem doesn’t show any recognition, it continues. "from- when you die? is that- how do you not know?"

gem blinks. "is that a story from when people thought magic was a thing? i’ve never heard of it before."

the secret keeper stares at her. "magic is a thing. i’m- i’m magic. I just got turned into a human from stone- what do you mean magic isn't a thing?"

"that's- yeah." gem pauses. "so- wait, why would we not have that anymore?"

"wh- I have no idea!" the secret keeper throws its arms out. "it's such a simple thing to do- you give the blessing to your baby, and then it grows with the kid! it's perfect! you don’t have to worry about exploding them with too much magic, because it's always just the right amount!"

"that is smart." gem says. "that's so weird- how has that gotten lost?" she tilts her head to the side. "I suppose it has been a thousand years."

"okay, so- I won't kill you." the secret keeper says, and gem remembers what started this whole conversation. "since apparently you guys are mortal. would I still be allowed to come with?"

"'course." gem grins. "I did suggest it. uh- how will we do this?"

the secret keeper looks at her blankly. "well. I assume we'd walk. do you not do that anymore either?"

gem snorts. "no, we do, I just- you said you had crutches. which I assume you would need."

"ohh." gem suppresses another laugh as it seems the secret keeper has apparently completely forgotten about the crutches. "yeah, that's a good point actually."

"I could try carrying you." gem says, and the secret keeper quickly covers its mouth. "what?"

"nothing!" it says, unconvincingly; gem can hear the smile in its voice. she raises an eyebrow. "well- you’re quite a bit smaller than I am."

"wh- I can carry you!" gem says, mildly offended. "i’m strong!"

"I don't doubt that!" the secret keeper says. "but I could just use my magic."

gem pauses, processing. "wait- so why do you need the crutches?"

the secret keeper grins, and it's almost uncannily sharp. did it just laugh? for some reason, it sounded too high pitched. "it's a little exhausting." it says, and suddenly the smile looks normal again. huh. "I can’t do it all the time, or i’d just- pass out. for a short time though, i'll be alright if I rest."

"you can do magic? still?" gem says, suddenly excited to see it happen. she's sure joel can make crutches for it when they get back—that won't be a problem. "how does that even work?"

the secret keeper seems a little flattered by her interest. "i can’t see why I wouldn’t. I might look a little weird though—my skin goes blue, my hair goes white, that kind of thing."

gem tilts her head. "isn’t your hair already white?"

"what?" the secret keeper's eyes widen a bit, pulling a strand of hair in front of its face to inspect. something shifts in its expression. "oh." 

there's a stab of worry in gem's chest. if magic makes its hair go white and also exhausts it, what's going to happen right now? does- is there something that could happen? man, she does not know nearly enough about magic to answer any of those questions for herself.

before she can actually ask, the secret keeper just shrugs. "weird! anyway-"

it closes its eyes, apparently concentrating hard on something. the air in the grove seems to solidify, crackling with unseen energy, and gem can’t tell if she's holding her breath or if she simply can't breathe anymore. the secret keeper doesn’t react as it begins to rise off the floor, a blue sheen spreading from its fingertips throughout its whole body—scars whitening until they're essentially translucent. tattered wings unfold from its back, skin spread so thin, gem thinks a strong wind could tear them into pieces.

the secret keeper opens its eyes, and grins sharply, wings supporting its entire body. "ta da! how's that for magic, huh?"

gem laughs in delight, applauding it. what else is she meant to do in the face of that? "that was incredible! you can fly?"

"too right I can." the secret keeper beams, swelling with pride. "now, lead the way- uh. I don’t know your name, do I?"

"gem." she smiles, gesturing for the secret keeper to follow her as she begins to walk out of the clearing. "I don’t know your name either."

"well, gem, I am the one and only scar!" it announces, floating next to her. "named after my many- oh! oh- what!" 

gem looks over, slightly panicked, and sees it inspecting its arms. more specifically, the scars on its arms that gem had likened to cracks in stone. "are you okay?"

"I didn’t have these before." scar says, tracing them with its finger and nearly floating into a tree as it does so. "they look like-"

"cracks?" gem suggests, and scar nods. "yeah- I think, with how long you’ve been stone.." she trails off, a better explanation escaping her.

scar seems to understand regardless, nodding. "I guess. hey, that's kinda cool." it looks back up at her, grinning again. gem has to wonder why (and how) it's so pointy. "that's a story to tell at parties!"

"I- yeah, I suppose." gem says, slightly unconvinced. she's not sure how scar has managed to completely accept everything she's told it without a single panic attack, but she isn't sure if that's a good sign. she hopes that people from a thousand years ago were just way better at processing their emotions. "I think the whole stone thing is also something to tell at parties."

"oh yeah, you guys don't have magic." scar says. it scoffs. "you must be so boring."

gem makes an indignant noise, and scar laughs. "excuse you! we're not boring. you were stone for millennia- if anything, you’re the boring one."

scar is still laughing. "you say that like you didn't just stare at me while I transformed. i’m so cool."

"okay, i'll admit, you are cool." gem grins, and scar pumps its fist.

[antoncore]

thinking about tattoo artist riize ..

— 🎀

like a tattoo | p.wb

a/n: went so overboard that this is a fic…oops

word count: 2k

smut 18+ mdni

everything about wonbin, your tattoo artist, was so so pretty, black tank top with jeans with tattoos covering his arms, his big eyes and his pink lips that were simply kissable. you wanted a cleavage tattoo and was kind of nervous to take off your shirt but you felt comfortable with wonbin as you’d gotten your other tattoos done with him. his voice and overall demeanour helped you feel relaxed as you prepared for the tattoo. you slowly took off your shirt, wonbin looking over as he tried to hide how turned on he was by your big tits, noticing that your nipples were pierced too.

wonbin maintained his composure with a warm smile, his voice soothing as he said, “alright, let’s start. just relax for me, alright angel?” you nodded, feeling reassured by his presence. wonbin prepared his tools, his focus shifting entirely to the task at hand. he began outlining the design with gentle precision, his hands steady and skilled. the initial prick of the needle made you tense up slightly making wonbin say softly, “it’s okay, angel, just relax. that’s it, you’re all good.” you couldn’t help but blush at the way he spoke to you, starting to get wet in your panties, not that you could do anything about it right now.

as he continued, wonbin couldn’t hold himself back from getting hard at the sight of your pretty tits. close to losing focus at the thought of having them in his mouth, playing with your nipples as you moaned his name. but he kept going, paying attention to every detail of your tattoo. after finishing the tattoo and filling in all the details, he leaned back, admiring his work. “all done, angel. looks pretty on you, hm?” you looked down at the fresh ink, smiling with satisfaction. the tattoo was exactly what you had envisioned, intricate and beautifully placed. you smiled up at wonbin, who was still admiring his work, his eyes lingering on your cleavage.

“thank you, wonbin. it looks perfect," you said, your voice genuinely appreciative. wonbin smiled back, his eyes finally meeting yours. "i'm glad you like it, angel, really suits you." his voice was soft, almost intimate, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks again. he found himself looking at your chest again for a moment too long before he snapped back to reality. "i, uh, should get you cleaned up," he said, his voice slightly huskier than before. wonbin reached for a cloth and some antiseptic, gently dabbing around the fresh tattoo. his touch was soft and careful, but you could feel the tension in the air. you bit your lip, trying to suppress the flutter of excitement in your stomach.

"hold still for me, angel," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin as he leaned closer, the closeness making your heart race. as he finished cleaning the tattoo, his fingers brushed against the underside of your breast, you couldn't help but let out a small gasp, your eyes meeting his. you saw the way wonbin's eyes darkened, his pupils dilating as he looked at you, quickly taking his hand away. “touch me wonbin, please,” you said breathily, feeling yourself getting even wetter. “you sound so cute like that, how can i say no?” he replied, before getting on top of you, his hand cupping your tit now which made you whine. he played around with your piercing gently, his thumb brushing over the sensitive metal and sending shivers down your spine. wonbin's eyes were locked on yours, the tension between you almost tangible.

wonbin leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "i was thinking about touching you like this the whole time, angel." you moaned softly in response, your body arching into his touch. "bin, please... don't stop," you pleaded, your voice trembling with need. “bin? aww, what a cute nickname, angel. must be so needy, hm?” he teased, his voice low and clearly running out of patience before he kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with an eagerness that left you breathless. his other hand found its way to your waist, pulling you even closer. you could feel his hardness pressing against you, and it only fueled your desperation for him further.

wonbin broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck to your chest. he took your nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking against the piercing and making you gasp. he took the other nipple between his fingers, gently tugging and rolling it. the sensation was almost too much to bear, your hands tangling in his hair as you held him close. “so beautiful, my angel," he murmured against your skin. "can't get enough of you." you could hardly think straight, your mind clouded with pleasure. "bin, i need you," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “patience, y/n, just wanna focus on these pretty tits for a bit,” he said, his voice teasing.

wonbin continued paying attention to your tits, alternating between sucking on your pierced nipples and gently kneading them. with every touch, you squirmed, making it harder to stay still. his hands eventually began to wonder, sliding down your sides and grazing the hem of your skirt. he glanced up at you, watching the way your face flushed, his eyes darkening with lust. “can i?” he asked, his voice anticipating. you nodded eagerly, unable to form words as your breath hitched in your throat. his fingers slid under your skirt, caressing the sensitive skin of your thighs. he teased you, his fingers brushing against your panties but not quite touching where you needed him so desperately. you squirmed on the tattoo chair, a desperate whine escaping your lips. “please, bin," you begged.

he smirked, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. "such a good girl, asking so nicely," he murmured, finally slipping his fingers past the waistband of your panties. his touch felt so good that you couldn't help but arch into him as he found your wetness. “so wet for me, angel," he whispered, his fingers sliding easily inside your slick folds. he found your clit, circling it with gentle pressure that made you gasp. "feels good, doesn't it, angel?" “yes, so good," you moaned, your hips bucking pathetically against his hand. the pleasure was overwhelming, and you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge with every stroke of his fingers.

“n-need you inside me,” you stuttered, longing for wonbin’s cock. he gave a low appreciative hum, eyes darkening at your words. “what did i say, angel? patience, i know what i’m doing,” wonbin whispered as his fingers continued working you open. the anticipation was almost too much to bear, and you could feel yourself trembling with need. his thumb pressed firmly against your clit while his fingers curled to hit that perfect spot that made you see stars. “oh god, bin," you moaned, your head falling back. "’m so close." “cum for me, angel," he commanded softly, his lips brushing against your ear. “wanna feel you fall apart for me." the combination of his voice and the skill of his fingers sent you over the edge. you cried out his name, your body arching off the chair as you came all over his fingers. he didn't stop though, coaxing every last bit of your orgasm out of you until you were left panting and spent.

wonbin finally withdrew his hand, his eyes full of admiration and lust as he looked at you. "you're so beautiful, angel," he said, his voice filled with affection. you reached for him, pulling him close and capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. "fuck me," you whispered against his mouth. "please." he didn't need any more encouragement, standing up and quickly unbuttoning his jeans and kicking them off, leaving him in just his boxers. you couldn't help but admire his body, the way his tattoos covered him so flawlessly. he pulled you to the edge of the tattoo chair, lifting your skirt and sliding your panties down your legs. his eyes roamed over you, taking in every inch of your exposed skin.

"you're so fucking perfect," wonbin whispered, smirking as he positioned himself between your legs, his hardness pressing against your entrance. you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him closer. "please, bin. fuck me," you begged, needing to feel him inside you. with one swift motion, he buried his cock inside you, filling you perfectly. both of you moaned at the sensation, loving the way the other felt. his movements were slow and deliberate at first, letting you adjust to the feeling of him deep inside you. he leaned down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his hands returning to your breasts, playing with your nipples which he knew would make you feel even more pleasure.

"god, you feel so good, angel," wonbin groaned, his voice thick with desire as he began to move, his thrusts becoming more insistent. he thrusted so deeply that it had you whimpering and clinging to him. “yes, binnie, yes," you cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders as you matched his pace. the sensation of him filling you, combined with the way he was teasing your nipples had your head going insane. "please, more." "such a good girl for me," he muttered against your skin, his breath hot on your neck. he shifted slightly, angling his hips to hit the perfect spot inside you with every thrust. "tell me how much you want it." “i want it so bad," you moaned, your voice trembling with need. "need you, need you to fuck me harder."

wonbin obliged, unable to deny you of what you wanted, increasing the intensity of his thrusts. each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure through you, making you cry out his name over and over. wonbin's hands roamed your body, one hand gripping your hip while the other continued to play with your breasts, his thumb brushing over your pierced nipple in a way that made you shiver. “so beautiful, fuck,” he groaned, his pace relentless. “wish i could stay like this all day and all night.” you gradually felt yourself getting closer and closer to cumming, his thrusts so fast and deep, hitting every spot inside you just like you wanted.

“bin, i’m gonna cum,” you whined, voice barely above a whisper. “that’s it, angel. cum for me,” wonbin commanded. “wanna feel you cum on my cock, ok?” his words had you spiralling again, crying out as you came. he didn’t stop, thrusting deep inside of you to prolong your orgasm. he felt himself getting close, trying to pull out but you tightened your legs around his waist despite feeling overstimulated. “no, please,” you pleaded, your voice breathless. “want you to cum inside me.” he couldn’t resist, his thrusts growing erratic, each one more desperate than the last. “didn’t wanna pull out anyway, wanna fill you up angel,” he confessed in a broken moan, the words making you gasp. with a final, deep thrust, he buried himself as deeply inside you as he could, his body tensing as he came inside you. the feeling of his cum inside you and the way you clenched around his cock had the two of you breathless and trembling.

you stayed as you were for a moment, wrapped around each other and heavily breathing. wonbin slowly pulled back, looking down at you with a mixture of satisfaction and affection. "i could stay like this forever,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. you smiled up at him as you replied with, “me too,” reaching to kiss him softly. he helped you clean up, his touch gentle and attentive. once you were both dressed again, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “thank you, wonbin," you said softly. “no, thank you, my pretty y/n,” he replied, kissing your forehead.

“want me to take you home, angel? i wanna take care of you,” wonbin continued, smiling softly, slighting giggling. you nodded, grateful for his offer. you looked down at the fresh ink on your chest once again, now carrying a dual meaning, a tattoo that would make you remember what just happened.

[lizardboiii]

At The Tone ┃ DCU

Barry Allen x Spider-Woman!Reader

┃ Summary: Sometimes bad things happen to good people - and that’s where the Justice League comes in. Too bad you weren’t interested.

“Think I forgot how to be happy Something I'm not, but something I can be" Billie Eilish, "What Was I Made For?"

│cw: SFW, alcohol abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief, hurt/comfort, violent themes

│wc: 3.9k

│chapters: One shot

│notes: This fic has been sitting unfinished (with 2k words!!) in my drafts for a WHILE. randomly decided it needed to see the light of day ig. was gonna make it nsfw but i low key hate it and just wanted too move on oops. enjoy <3

・❥・

│One Shot: At The Tone

You have five new messages.

“Good afternoon, Spider-Woman this is Cla-”

You heard a throat clear.

“It’s Superman. I see you still aren’t picking up any of the team’s calls,” He swallowed thickly, “I understand your recent loss was… hard. Something none of us would have wished for anybody.”

You could feel the tension in his voice.

“Please take all the time you need. The league is more than capable of taking care of New York in your absence for the time being.”

The sound of a pen clicking disrupted the message every so often, “But at least give us some indication you're alive…and well. The team cares about you,” He chuckled warmly, “Even “Mr. I Work Alone” Batman himself.”

His laugh dropped abruptly with a soft sigh, “Call me back when you can.”

Beep

You crawled out of bed slowly, dragging your duvet behind you like a cloak. The plush cotton laid heavy on your shoulders. You wondered if this was how Big Blue felt every morning - the weight of knowing everything depending on him once he bore his iconic red cape. 

You knew what that weight felt like, and you knew what it felt like to have it all come crashing down.

You have four new messages 

“How’s it hanging, Spidy? Haha, you get it?” A dramatic sigh escaped the machine, “Sorry, poor timing.”

He took a moment to regroup, “It's Green Lantern, just calling to check in. Headquarters has been depressing without you. I mean even Martian Manhunter is down in the dumps. It's a total bummer.”

Another sigh, “Listen you don't have to call me back if you don’t want to, but at least let Flash know you're still alive. He needs you more than he lets on.”

Beep

You groaned at the shrill ring of the answering machine. The outdated tech was too cherished to be discarded but the pulsing headaches you received from it almost outweighed the fond memories of Aunt May.

Thoroughly woken up, you entered your kitchenette. Your eyes shifted between the week old coffee pot on your stove to the half empty Hennessy bottle next to it. 

Maybe this time you would make the right choice. A sober evening is a good evening. However, the battle was always rigged to begin with and the winner already predetermined.

The Hennessy felt burdensome in your hand as you took a long swig. It burned violently down your throat, eating at your skin, before finally settling warmly in your stomach. Though you hated to admit it, it satisfied you more than any pot of coffee could.

Staggering to your couch, courtesy of one of New York’s finest sidewalks, you flopped down. The cushions were well used and musty. But who were you to pass up a free couch?

You have three new messages

“Spider-Woman.”

There was a lengthy pause.

“Your recent inactivity has caused some concerns regarding your whereabouts. The league seems to be having a hard time focusing on missions with your absence.”

Bats’ uncertainty leaked through the phone as he thought of his next sentence, “You have my condolences, Webs. However, the league cannot continue to work with this distraction. Please report to the Hall of Justice immediately.”

He hesitated, “We are worried.”

Beep

An involuntary snort escaped you. Bats’ attempt at comfort was interesting to say the least. He was surprisingly awkward for a leader of the Justice League. Though you supposed dark and brooding was his brand.

You have two new message

“Greetings, Spider-Woman, Wonder Woman speaking.”

You could hear muffled arguing in the background.

“Batman may have been a bit…straightforward in that last voicemail,” She attempted a fake laugh, “Please do not mind his bluntness, he is merely just as concerned as the rest of us. In his own way at least.”

A loud slam made her curse under her breath.

“I apologize I must go, the “children” are fighting again. Don’t hesitate to call back. See you soon, Webs.”

Beep

Lifting the liquor to your lips, your brows creased when only a drop hit your tongue. Out already?

You let out an exaggerated sigh before placing the empty bottle on your coffee table. A quick glance at your barren pantry told you everything you needed to know. You’d have to go out and get some more. You felt your face scrunch. That means you have to go out in public.

You weighed your options. 

You could stay inside and continue to peacefully hide from the world, but you're guaranteed to sober up eventually.

Or you could make a quick trip to the convenience store down the road and pray the minimum wage employee can’t smell the alcohol on you from a mile away. 

You hummed thoughtfully. Though, now that you think about it, there’s a off chance you might run into the supe that’s covering your city for the time being. Then again, there’s a very high chance it’s not someone from the Justice League, a member from The Team at best. 

Massaging your forehead, you tried to remember the last time a Justice League member took a leave of absence. A blonde goatee flashed in your mind.

That’s right. Green Arrow was out for a while when he got busted up pretty bad. His protégé, Speedy, ended up babysitting Star City in his absence. You bit your lip. 

But you didn’t have one of those anymore.

You have one new message

“Hey Webs! Sent me to voicemail again, huh?”

An awkward laugh made the machine crackle.

“Just calling to check up on you. How are you doing? Feeling alright? Just say the word and I can grab you anything from anywhere. I mean literally anywhere. They don’t call me the fastest man alive for nothing!”

You could practically hear the large smile embedded on his face.

A large sigh passed through the speaker, “It’s been a month now. The team misses you…I miss you. A lot actually.”

He paused.

“Just call me back alright? I need to know if you're okay.”

Beep

Your hand paused over your front door handle. Flash’s deep voice was like a siren's call, beckoning you in. 

What you’d give to turn around. What you'd do to call him back. It took everything in you to force yourself away from his voice.

Your best friend. 

Your confidant. 

Your everything. 

You have zero new messages

・❥・

You weaved through the bustling sidewalk with a slight wobble, managing to dodge a third of the people you almost crashed into. Night was quickly approaching. That meant the streets were only going to get busier. 

More people = More crime = More superheroes.

Fumbling into a dimly lit alley, you avoided Main Street completely. It was too risky. Even in your civilian disguise there was no guarantee your voice wouldn’t be recognized - mainly by your teammates but especially by… Flash.

You recalled how often you sought each other out in the Hall of Justice. Whether it was meddling in the business of others, or simply enjoying the company of one another.

His hand always seemed to find its way to the small of your back. Gently resting. While his thumb delicately circled the thin fabric of your suit. 

He leaned in closer than he should. The dull smell of his cologne inevitably picked up by your heightened senses. 

It wasn't how friends should behave - but that's all you ever were. Friends.

Thwack!

You slammed yourself against one of the side walls in surprise, extinguishing your mind of complex thoughts. Creeping closer, you cursed in your head when harsh thumps and muffled grunting filled the air. 

“Where’s my money, Huey?”

Crack!

“I-I don’t know! Please!”

Whack!

You recognized the tell-tale sound of blood splattering against the ground, akin to paint splashing. The sound made you nauseous. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you thought of your next move. 

Now, on any normal occasion you’d swing in all heroic and save the day. But today was different. You were different. 

Excuses flooded your brain as you tried to explain to yourself why you felt little desire to help the abused man. 

Your suit was at home crammed somewhere in between an ugly Christmas sweater and a latex bodysuit you practically begged Cat Woman not to give you. 

Even if you had the energy, you were still considered MIA to the league. You’d basically be spoon feeding them your location. 

Your internal dilemma didn’t last long as the pummeling swiftly came to an end. Peaking around the corner, you watched the assistants retreat into an adjacent alley. They moved lazily. Clearly they didn’t expect to be caught.

You could still catch them.

You found yourself making an internal description. Two Caucasian males both wearing black beanies and disgustingly outdated puffer jackets. The taller one sported purple and green. While the shorter preferred yellow. 

Your foot shifted before you felt yourself hesitate. Maybe you shouldn’t. They’d probably be caught soon enough anyways. 

If anything, the supe covering your city would swoop in and haul their asses to the local jail. Especially when you called an ambulance for the man who was passed out on the ground. It would put this area on tonight's map. You sighed and finally allowed yourself to relax. 

This was fine. 

Everything was fine. 

Shifting your eyes to the ground, you located the poor soul who suffered the attack. His breathing was ragged and wet. You were quick to put two fingers on his neck, checking for a pulse. A wave of relief crashed through you when you felt a steady beating.

Pulling out your phone, you immediately dialed 911 and requested an ambulance, anonymously of course. You stayed with the man until you could hear loud sirens growing closer. Your sign to leave. 

Exiting the alleyway, you reached the small convenience store in record time. The adrenaline in your system was starting to make quick work of the alcohol in your bloodstream. 

You could feel your senses beginning to come back. Eyes clearer. Ears sharper. You could practically hear the heartbeats of everyone in the store. 

Groaning at your misfortune, you beelined for the alcohol section in the back. My god was it beautiful. Itching to return home, you grabbed a random bottle that had the highest percentage. Taste didn’t matter. Only the effect.

Glancing at your selection you choked on your own spit. 30 dollars?? The glass bottle was swiftly put back as you grabbed the cheapest one you could find. Tucking the Shitty K under your arm, you turned to walk to the register.

“PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP, OLD MAN.”

You froze. Extending your neck out, you caught a glimpse of the register. 

Purple, green, and yellow.

You had to be fucking kidding.

You watched as the two assailants from the alley held the elderly cashier at gunpoint. His form shook like a leaf. 

“Please! Just take the money and leave!”

You caught his eyes as he begged for his life. Tear filled and shaking. You could have prevented this. If you would have just stopped them when you had the chance none of this would have happened.

You could have saved the man in the alley. Saved the poor cashier.

You could have saved Uncle Ben too. 

Your eyes watered. Fucking pathetic mistake. What the hell were you doing? You weren’t a teenager anymore. You were a grown adult who should have learned from your mistakes by now.

Shifting your eyes from the vodka to him, you pressed your lips in a thin line. You didn’t know what hurt more. The fact that you were repeating past mistakes or the fact that you wanted to take the more expensive alcohol and leave unnoticed.

When did you become this? 

No wonder you let Spider-Girl die.

You needed a drink. Desperately.

Abruptly, a whiplash of red and yellow snatched you from your daydream. The streaking shape blew over the newspaper stand before spinning around the starstruck perpetrators. You knew those McDonald's colors from anywhere. 

Kid Flash.

Like any speedster, he removed the gun in milliseconds before tying up the confused robbers. They stood no chance against the meta-human.

Dusting off his hands, Kid Flash smiled smugly at the dumbfounded duo, “Guns aren’t currency, you know?”

The man in yellow thrashed violently, “What the hell-Kid Flash!? Why are you in New York? Spidey taking a break or something?”

You cringed.

Kid Flash’s boyish voice laughed awkwardly, “Something like that.”

You need to get out of here. Now.

Slowly backing into the aisle, you clenched your teeth when your elbow hit the shelf. The bottles tinked in a symphony, altering everyone in the store of your presence. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Instantly, you snatched your coat hood and covered your face and hair. Staring into the grime covered tiles, you prayed Kid Flash wouldn’t think too much of it.

“Hello?”

Of course. The one time he’s actually thorough.

“Are you alright?”

Bright yellow boots came into your vision as you tried to conceal yourself further. You hunched into yourself with clenched fists. Mistaking your actions for something else, Kid Flash placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey it’s okay! You don’t have to be sacred!”

You bite into your lip eager to escape the conversation, “I’m not. Please let go.”

Kid Flash laughed, sounding a little too similar to Flash in your opinion. Removing his hand from your shoulder, he stood next to you with his hands on his hips. 

“Then why are you hiding?” A red glove entered your vision. It was headed straight for your hood.

You slapped his hand away, “Didn’t your parents tell you not to talk to strangers.”

He shrugged, “That rule doesn’t really apply to superheroes.”

You couldn’t contain the breathy laugh that left your throat. You hate to admit it but you actually really missed the kid. 

However, you failed to realize your mistake. If anyone knew your laugh it was Kid Flash. You spent way too much time around him and Flash for him not too.

There was a long pause. 

“…Webs?”

You flinched hard, “Wrong person.” You internally cursed at yourself for the obvious slur in your voice.

“Are you drunk?”

“…No.”

His hand grabbed your upper arm tightly, “Where have you been? Are you okay?”

You gently pulled against his hold, attempting to break free without force, “I’m fine.”

“No you aren’t,” Kid Flash raised his hand to his ear piece, “Just let me notify Flash-”

“NO!”

Your arm flew up to the communicator without thought. Taking advantage of his surprise, you were able to snatch the high tech earpiece from his loosen grip.

“Hey!” 

Kid Flash grabbed at you. His lanky limbs attempting to reclaim his lost device, “Let go!”

“You let go!” You shoved his face away with the palm of your hand. 

Kid Flash merely continued to grab at the air around you, “Never!”

If this was any other situation you would have laughed. The pair of you looked like children fighting over the last dessert.  

However, this wasn't just any situation. This situation involved Flash. 

“Listen to your elders you brat!” Finally, after a well fought struggle, you managed to hold the device out of arm's reach. A much needed success after the month you've had- 

“Webs?”

You halted in your tracks.

The small communicator in your hand blinked on and off, identifying an unstable signal. 

“Webs is that you?” Flash was urgent, “Wait there! I'm coming-”

You crushed the device in your hand. Terrified.

Small fragments engraved themselves into your skin, dotting your hand red. What have you done? 

“Batman’s gonna kill you for that, you know?” Kid Flash laughed in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

You frowned, uninterested in entertaining him. Kid Flash merely smiled awkwardly. It was evident the boy was taken aback by your unusually serious demeanor. 

The thought didn't take up much space in your mind. You could only think of one thing. When would Flash decide to appear out of thin air?

As if conjuring the hero, a red bolt flew through the mostly empty convenience store. The glass doors shook from the force. While newspapers scattered through the air, Vogue landed atop the cashier's head. 

Though he moved faster than the speed of light, he stood before you still. Unmoving. It was as if you might fade away if he got too close. 

“Webs,” His voice was laced with reverence. 

Your mouth went dry, “Flash.”

The tension between the two of you was thick enough to cut with a knife, suffocating you. Maybe this was how Flash planned to get back at you for ignoring him. Slowly killing you with hypoxia. A metaphorical death pertaining to how he felt during your absence. 

“Woah, this just got really awkward.” 

Kid Flash’s voice suddenly reminded you of his presence. He swayed uncomfortably. Trapped between you and Flash.

The younger male pointed his thumbs at the door, “Should I leave…or?”

“Yes.” 

Startled at your synchronous voices, Kid Flash quickly shuffled toward the door, “Alright. See you later?”

Flash nodded his head in response, ushering his protégé away. Kid Flash couldn't leave fast enough. Magazines, once again disturbed, twirled around the ground from where he left.

You stared at the loose paper. Preferring the sight of perfume ads then whatever expression Flash held. From the corner of your eye you should see him shift. He moved with unease. Your mouth curled slightly. He never was able to stop moving for long. 

“Webs, I-”

You cut him off, “I’m sorry.”

Flash furrowed his brows in confusion, “You don’t need to apologize. It's not your fault.”

“But it is,” You clenched your teeth in frustration, “It's always been my fault.”

The taller male crossed the space between you hesitantly. You flinched when he placed his large hands on your shoulders, completely engulfing them. 

“It wasn't your fault, Webs. Nobody could have known.”

“I could have saved her,” you finally met his gaze, “I was right there.”

You saw his eyes widen slightly, clearly used to your masked form more than your real face. 

Your name spilled from his lips. 

Not just Webs - your name.

You took a shaky breath, “Barry.”

The name was foreign on your tongue. You had tried to keep your personal life separate from hero work. Though that only lasted a year. Barry managed to weasel his way into your home life before you knew it.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

Barry’s hands slid from your shoulders down to your hands, caressing them softly. “Believe me when I say this,” He took a deep breath, “I’ve been in your position before. We all have.”

Breaking eye contact, your stare bore into the wall of cheap booze, “I know.”

“And I know,” He cupped your cheek, “That drinking away your problems won’t help. It only makes it worse.”

You bit your lip, “I just want to forget.”

“I know. God, I know. I want to go back and change that day every time I open my eyes,” He placed his head in the crook of your neck, “But I've been down that road before. And it's not sustainable.”

Your eyes felt hot, your throat dry, “I don’t know what to do.”

Barry pulled your smaller frame into his arms, “No one does.”

You sunk into his embrace, inhaling his scent.

“Let me take you home, Webs.”

“Okay.”

・❥・

You held tightly onto Barry, arms circling his neck, as he brought you home. You had barely enough time to blink before you were standing in front of your apartment’s door.

Barry hesitantly let you down from his hold. Though his arm stayed wrapped around your waist for support. You gave him a gentle smile as a thank you. 

Unlocking your door, you were immediately reminded of the state of your apartment. Dirty laundry and loose items scattered the floor. 

Shame crept up your neck. The uncaring attitude towards your humble abode seemingly disappeared.

Barry entered slowly, taking in the messy state. His eyes were quickly drawn to the empty bottles strewn about your floor. Unsurprisingly, he began to pick one up. Then another. And another. You snapped when he started to replace your trash bag.

“Barry.”

His head whipped toward you, only focusing on you.

“That's enough,” You tried grabbing the bag from him, “You don’t need to.”

Barry held onto the plastic tightly, “I want to.”

You shook your head, “It's my mess. Leave it.”

“No.”

You jolted in surprise at his commanding tone, “Why?”

He tossed the bag to the side, “Why?” 

Laughing dryly, he shook his head, “Why not? Why wouldn't I take care of you?”

You averted your gaze, “I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“But you do,” his voice was imbued with desperation, “If you didn’t, I wouldn't have spent a month doing everything in my power to find you!”

Your face felt hot, “I didn't ask you too!”

Barry closed in the space between you, “You didn't have too!”

You weren't sure when the tears began to pour down your cheeks, “I never wanted you too! I just want to be alone! Why can’t you let me be?”

“Because I can't let you be!” Barry’s hand slammed down on your tiny island counter, “You're all I think about! From the moment I wake up to the time I go to sleep, all I know is you. I would rather you hate me for the rest of my life just to see you for a moment than ever ignore you.”

You felt like a deer in headlights, “What?”

“That day when Spider-Girl died,” He gripped the counter, slightly cracking it under the force, “I felt like I lost a piece of you too. And I could bear it.”

You felt like you lost your breath when Barry met your gaze again. His eyes were laced with anguish. Bloodshot rims already forming.

“I know you're hurting. I know what I am experiencing is nothing compared to what you are going through,” He searched your eyes, “But I'm in love with you! And I have been for as long as I can remember.” 

The start of a cry made his voice waver, “And this is definitely poor timing for a confession, but I can’t lose you-”

You weren't exactly sure which one of your muscles was still intact enough for you to move. However, the feeling of plush lips against your own thwarted any other thought.

Barry stood rigid for a moment. Hands clenched at his sides. Then, he dominated the kiss like his life depended on it. His hands held onto your waist tightly, before slowly making their way to your face. You couldn't remember the last time you felt this happy.

Pulling away, you took shallow breaths, “I love you.”

Barry smiled and swiped a loose teardrop from your cheek, “I love you too.”

The warm moment didn't last long. Your mind was quick to remind you that there was a reason Barry had to confess in a messy studio apartment rather than someplace special. That reason was because you were broken.

You pressed you mouth into a thin line, “Do you still want me even if-”

“I want you no matter what,” Barry didn’t allow you to get another word in, “We can go through this together.”

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, “You're not alone, Webs. You never were.”

You swallowed hard, “Together?”

"Together."

・❥・

[eaterofman]

Stuck in The Dark Alone... or Not. (Monster x F!Human) 1.8k

An unlucky adventurer, you find yourself once again the victim of fate as you become locked in a dungeon room... with something else inside.

Content warning: Dub-con bordering strongly on non-con, non-con touching, mentions of death (but no actual character death), overstimulation, yandere monster.

This was supposed to be a quick first foray into writing on tumblr... and ended up being an almost 2k long beast. Oops.

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

'Another adventure gone wrong'

You find yourself thinking, head leaning against the cold, stone wall as you gaze into the darkness. The room was rather small, but spacious enough that the candle you had lit did not light up the entire room, causing shadows to gather at the far corners of the room. Finding the candles had been your only stroke of luck today, without it, you'd be trapped in complete darkness.

'When I manage to get out-'

You stop yourself in your thoughts, as the very real possibility that this is where your journey ends sinks into you. You had already exhausted yourself looking for a lever, a button, a switch, any possible escape from this dungeon trap. The walls, while craggy with the ancient stone they were made of, were completely barren of any and all features. You'd been tempted by the chest on the far side of the room. Looking back, you should've known better. Too obvious, too perfectly placed... but that didn't matter now. Nothing really mattered now. You doubt that the small party you had been adventuring with would even notice your disappearance. You were just another temporary member in yet another party. Your unlucky nature, your tendency to seem to just fall right into traps, made you an undesirable companion. This hadn't been your first, second, or even third party, but it may very well be your last. The chest hadn't even had anything in it, clearly a set up by the people who had built this place hundreds of years ago.

Your stomach grumbling distracts you from your spiraling thoughts. Thankfully, you had been carrying your pack with you when you walked into the trap. Within it, you estimated that you had a few weeks of food and water, enchanted to stay fresh longer. Aside from that, you had your sword, shield, and a few other miscellaneous trinkets you had picked up on your adventures. You dug around inside, pulling out a piece of bread and a piece of smoked meat.

Tearing into your small meal, you almost don't notice the movement in the dark corner of the room. It's the slightest shift of a shadow, you'd think it was just a flicker of the candlelight... but it seemed different, somehow. Intentional. You startle, moving to pick up your sword. You stand up, sword in hand, a slight tremor in your body.

You never had been very good at fighting.

Your specialties had always leaned more towards enchantment, healing, and potion making. A good skill to have, but not the most useful when adventuring alone... or trapped alone in a room with something more than likely very undead, and not very friendly. You steady yourself, a single undead or ghoul you could handle. You'd fought many on the way deeper into the dungeon.

As you stare at the wall, minutes pass by... and nothing happens. As time passes by, and the sound of your own breathing begins to wear on you, you find yourself relaxing. Maybe it had just been a figment of your imagination. An attempt at a panicked, overstimulated brain attempting to distract itself. Still weary, you fall back onto the floor, eyes still locked onto the dark edges of the room.

‘... had they gotten darker?’

You brush off the thought, there was no way. The enchantment you had cast onto the candles should keep the candles lit for weeks. You remember the fear you felt as you had fumbled around in the dark, until you’d quite literally fallen right on top of the candles in the corner of the room. They sat on one of the strange, short stone pillars that decorated the room, the only things in the room besides the chest. It seemed like there may be more candles in the other corners, but you can barely make out the vague outlines of the other pillars from where you are, let alone whether they had more candles. You’d go over to check, but you can’t help but feel an echo of the fear you’d felt early when you were completely submerged in the dark when you consider traversing it again. 

It had almost been like there was… something in there with you. You were not a stranger to darkness, an adventurer who goes into as many dungeons as you’ve been into learns to get over their fear of the dark rather quickly. There was something… different about the shadows here. A sort of dreadful feeling like they were staring back at you, waiting for you to make a move. 

You shudder, trying to expel the thoughts in your mind as weariness pulls at your eyes. You were not only mentally exhausted, but your body was sore and tired from a week’s worth of adventuring, fighting, and your frantic searching for a way out earlier. You close your eyes, despite your instincts telling you not to, and lean against the stone pillar hosting your only lightsource. As your eyes close, you make out the faint details of hundreds of inhuman arms carved into the stone, branching up towards the top of the pillar, seeming to grasp desperately at the sun imprinted at the very top of the pillar.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

You awake from a dreamless slumber to the ever so faint sound of whispers. You jolt awake, a small ounce of hope welling inside you that your party had come to save you, only to be met with an empty room. The same empty room as you’d fallen asleep too except-

Your heart races.

The shadows were so, so much closer than they should be.

You couldn’t even make out the vague pillars in the other corners of the room anymore. You had maybe enough room to stretch your legs out now. You spare a panicked glance to the candles, wondering if maybe you’d screwed up again, been unlucky enough to mess up an otherwise easy enchantment on your only source of light… but the candle is still as tall as it was when you closed your eyes. There had been no mistake in your enchantment, you realize as dread takes hold of you.

The light wasn’t getting weaker… the shadows were getting stronger.

You feel a sob rise out of your chest. You really were shit out of luck. Everything you’d done in life, culminating in getting trapped in a small, cold room in a dungeon, abandoned by your party and left to the whims of whatever the fuck was in the room with you. 

You yank your foot back with a scream, startled by what felt like fingers dragging across the sole of your adventure-worn sandals. You curl your limbs up to your body, getting as small as possible as the darkness continues to approach you. You don’t even bother with your sword, instead grabbing your shield and cowering behind it. You doubt whatever was in the dark could be hit with the basic, cheap steel sword you’d bought for 2 gold from a small town blacksmith. Your shitty luck had not made getting gold, or stumbling upon legendary weapons, as easy for you as it seemed to be for other adventurers. But that didn’t matter now, whatever was surrounding you was closing in fast… and it had obviously lost its patience. You try to steady yourself, holding onto your shield tighter as the shadows close in one you. Any moment now, they’d be-

And just like that, the darkness engulfs you.

You sobbed, shaking so hard your shield rattles against the stone floor. For a moment, the only sound in the room is the shaking of your shield and your frantic breaths. Until the thing speaks.

“It’s been….. so long… since we’ve…..”

You freeze in fear, as a thousand voices seem to echo around you, somehow both a whisper and deafeningly loud at the same time. You can’t seem to concentrate on any one voice, the voices sounding both masculine and feminine, shy and bold, warm and cold, and all variations therein. It’s both the most soothing thing you’ve ever heard, and the most unnerving. 

You whimper as what seems to be a hand strokes your arm, trying to pull away from the touch. You don’t get very far, as what seems like dozens of other arms join the first in exploring your body. The touch everywhere, some weak, like a faint whisper on your skin, while others roughly pinch and pull at you without any care of their claws scratching you. You cry out as they start to wander closer to between your legs. Your shield is jerked out of your grasp and lands with a clang somewhere in the dark. As one particularly bold one slides against your crotch, the voices continue.

“... had someone to play with.”

You try to get up, to move away, but you only run into more hands, grasping you firmly to keep you in place. They begin to tear at your leather armor, the clawed hands surging underneath to stroke at your bare skin. The pressure between your legs grows stronger as more hands join the first bold one. You can’t help the gasp that escapes you as they descend on your pussy. Surprisingly warm fingers circle your clit while others begin to pry you open. Your fear turns to confusion and arousal as the hands work you over, never staying in one place for long enough to get used to the sensation. 

Your experience before this would be considered limited at best, so there was nothing to prepare you for the feeling of dozens, maybe hundreds, or even thousands of hands caressing, pinching, and prodding at you. You're lost in overstimulation as you quickly reach your peak, much too fast, crashing over you as you scream. The hands work you through it, never letting up on your clit, continuing to shove desperately into your pussy as you shake around them… and they don’t let up afterwards either. They’re relentless.

How many fingers are inside you? You can’t focus enough to count as they continue to mercilessly finger you to another climax. More fingers impatiently push into your mouth, prying your mouth open for them to explore. Your sounds are muffled as fingers play with your tongue, rub against your teeth, and choke you until saliva is running down your chin into the valley of your breasts. Your chest is squeezed and kneaded, saliva rubbed into your skin and nipples by yet another set of hands. 

Your eyes roll back into your head as you reach your peak again.. how many has that been? How many more will there be? Your thoughts begin to slip as you’re ruthlessly overstimulated. Voices follow you as you begin to black out.

“We are going… to take such good care of you.”

[spacedace]

Had an idea, thought I'd make it a prompt, 3k+ words later realized this wasn't a prompt anymore but a ficlet 🙃

Anyway, here's the first almost 2k of Talia being a good parent and deciding to not go with either Bruce or Ra's and go off and do her own thing and raise Damian and oops she got attached to Jason while checking in on Bruce and saved him from dying in Ethiopia. & now has 2 sons lol

-

When her Beloved and her father demanded Talia make a choice, of who she would choose, she didn't hesitate.

She chose neither of them. She chose her child. She chose herself.

Outwitting both Ra's al Ghul and Batman was no simple feat. They were both brilliant, relentless and with endless resources at their command. It was why their clashes were as devastating as they were. Immovable objects and unstoppable forces the both of them. If there was something they wanted, it was something they would have.

But not her.

They would not have her.

She had her own networks, her own people, her own keen intelligence and sharp cunning. It took time - time she really didn't have - and a great deal of pain and loss, but she slipped them eventually. Shrugged off the shroud of who she had been - who she was made to be - and stepped confidently into her new life.

Her son was born nine days after her freedom had finally, fully been assured.

He was small and perfect in every way. Soft and warm cradled close to her chest, unblemished by the cruelty of the world as he slept soundly in her arms. Even as exhausted as she was after such a long labor, she couldn't bring herself to sleep. Her attention narrowed down entirely on his every quiet breath, his downy soft hair, his round peaceful face.

In the weeks that followed his eyes would shift and change from a newborn's blue to her own green. It would take years before she could know if he inherited any of his father's features, but that was fine. He was hers and hers alone.

She named him Damian.

In another life she would name him with her father in mind. That her son would rise as Heir to the Demon and conquer the world. That he'd stand as ruler of all.

In this one, she named him with hope in her heart that what he would master was his own life. That he would never be forced to bow to the will of anyone else. To be made to act as servant or puppet. Let him tame his fate into something good and kind and happy.

She did her best to give him the life he deserved.

Lavished him with all her love and affection. Gave him everything he could ever want or need. The friends she began making for herself - not just trusted allies, but friends - laughed that she would spoil him rotten. It was probably true, but she didn't have it in her to care.

Her son would have the childhood he would have been denied if raised raised in the home of either of their fathers. Her father would have demand harsh lessons and frightened obedience and impossible standards. Damian's would have tried - she knew her Beloved would have tried - but his heart would always be for his city first and all else, even his children, second.

Talia kept tabs on both of them, covertly. Ensured she always kept a healthy distance from anything that involved her father or his people. Gathered stories of her Beloved's exploits to share with her son when he was old enough to hear them.

It gave her insight on just what choosing her Beloved would have meant. Reassured her that while not choosing her father had been the right choice, choosing her Beloved would have been the wrong one.

Bruce Wayne was a good man. Brilliant and driven with his kind heart and admirable goals. Breathtaking in his skill and ability.

Disappointing in his parenting skills.

Talia knew she was lacking as a parent herself. That her own upbringing had left its scars and that try as she might she'd undoubtedly end up doing the same to her own child over the years. But she always pushed herself hard towards improving, in making herself better for the tiny boy that she loved more than anything else. And she felt satisfied that in the very least that when presented with options on how her and her son's life would be, she'd made the one that was best for Damian.

Not the life of an assassin or a vigilante, but the life of a child.

A child who was taught some of the skills of both the worlds she'd turned her back on, admittedly, but only ever for his own protection. Damian was safer knowing how to hide, how to escape, how to fight. She had done her best, but there was always the looming threat that they might be found one day. She needed to be sure he was ready, if that time ever come.

She didn't teach him the way she was taught.

When her son fumbled or failed she gently corrected him. Walked him through what he'd done wrong, how he could improve. Made a game out of the experience so that he came running up to her on toddling feet with bright eyes begging that they have a lesson. His excitement and delight in it all made him a better student then her fear and desperate need for her father's approval and affection.

There was a day she caught sight of him, all of four years old, tiny face scrunched in a look of concentration as he practiced the form she'd taught him the day before with his small, wooden practice sword. Some of his father's features lingered at the edges of his face, but he'd deepened his resemblance to her by picking up her mannerisms and expressions. Her son, going through the same steps and motions she had when she'd been his age, little body wobbling as he turned to fast before plopping on the ground with a tiny oof.

Talia had small silver scars on the back of her hands, so thin and so old as to nearly be invisible anymore. They burned all the same as she recalled herself stumbling in nearly the same way. Stomach churning as she remembered the terror she'd felt as her instructor had snatched her up by her hair and drug her over to a low table, holding her hands in place with a massive hand. The way she'd bit her lip hard enough that her mouth filled with blood as he struck her with the thin lash, knowing that if she cried the punishment would be all the worse.

Damian only blinked his big green eyes and scowled the same way she did whenever something of minor importance didn't go the way she wanted it to. Then he saw her standing there in the doorway watching him and his face lit up, bright as the son and just as beautiful as he jumped to his feet and darted over to her. Tiny hand clinging to the loose fabric of her pant leg as he begged her show me again Mama!

It was moments like that where she knew beyond any shadow of a doubt she'd made the right choice.

Her father would have broken her brilliant, kind hearted son. Would have done to him what was done to her to forge Damian into a weapon.

Her beloved...

He would never hurt her son like that. Not the way her father and his loyal followers would. But she couldn't ignore the fact that Damian would still be hurt all the same under his father's tutelage.

Talia knew the man she loved well. Adored his strengths, but was not blind to his flaws. He kept his heart well guarded, hidden behind imposing walls of silence and razor wire of words he didn't truly mean. Still kind, but horribly distant when it came to those he cared for most. It shielded him some, perhaps, but it left those who loved him feeling lost and alone.

She saw how Dick Grayson had grown over the years. Tall and clever and lonely and bitter. Fighting for independence, for acknowledgement, for his father to speak words of love and respect. Things Bruce felt but almost never said unless he thought things were dire.

She saw too how the heavy weight of her Beloved's priorities weighed up on his second son.

Young Jason Todd who saw magic in the harsh world he'd been drawn into and desired to be the protection for others that he never had growing up. She saw much of herself in him, though he faced the world with far more hope than she had at his age. He was a bright boy with a good heart that had weathered a harsh upbringing that Talia could sympathize with. There was a familiar anger in him too, broiling just beneath the surface, flaring up and burning him as much as everyone else when triggered.

Most of all though Talia could see the desperate loneliness that had marred her own life in the boy. The soul deep fear of abandonment. The painful desire for love from a father that always seemed to stay at arm's length who spoke rarely of affection and often of missions to be completed.

She kept a close eye on her Beloved's second Robin.

When he left for Ethiopia, searching for family in a stranger that had already given him up, she'd followed.

Jason only ever wanted family and love. A good boy, bright and fierce and brave. A boy Talia saw a lot of herself in, who faced the world with such determined brightness in spite of the pain and hardship he'd known.

Shelia Haywood took that boy that Talia had grown so fond of, took his trust and his love and crushed it beneath her heel. Callously handed him over to the Joker without a second thought. As if he was disposable, as if he was nothing more than a puppet to use and toss away when it suited her.

Talia had risked everything when she'd decided she would not choose either her father or her Beloved. She'd turned her back on her entire life, everything that had ever been and ever could be on either side. She spent months running, hiding, fighting and killing, in orchestrating a plan that could outwit and outmaneuver the two most brilliant men she knew. And she'd done it all so that her son could live free, as master of his own life.

Jason Todd had come to Ethiopia looking for a mother.

Talia, with blood on her hands and a burning warehouse behind her as she carried his broken body to safety, made sure he found one.