#why I keep adding stuff send help

[anachronismstellar]

I'm awake and I WAS ABLE TO WRITE even tho idk if I'm happy about this scene I think it's time to tell y'all how our dear Mobei-Jun is doing

He's...... Well. Here we go.

-----

Mobei did his best to avoid the food and water, but the chambers were not a laughing matter, the sequence of battles disrupting his recovery, forcing him to feed instead of meditating and gathering energy. They have gotten progressively worse, to the point of him finishing the last one with a cold to his bones so intense that made him swear to buy the softest carpets for Qinghua when he got back.

Because he would be back. Not if, when.

Another problem had been time. It felt like it ran differently inside the weird temple; he would look at the running numbers on the floating parchment, fight for hours, glare at it again and see that a few minutes had passed by. He was tired, but certainly not enough to lose time? But the other option would be the shapeshifter being capable of manipulating it. Then, how long has it been since he saw Qinghua? Weeks? Months?

He mustered all his energy to put the dark thoughts aside, head throbbing, arm numb. This time the Thing had made him exhaust his shadows, the roaring beast of his ancestors’ power eerily subdued.

He was ready to fall face forward on the bed when the sound of clapping made him turn around, an ice sword at ready.

“Oh, I apologize. It wasn't my intention to startle you,” the Thing said as kept Its distance, hands still clasped together.

“What. Do you want.” Mobei kept his sword pointed at It, muscles burning from tension. It was like a river of fire was coursing through his veins, making him hyper aware of his vulnerable state.

“I've came to congratulate you.” The Thing took a step to the side, then other, then one more, starting a wide circle around Mobei. “Your progress through the chambers has been remarkable. Better than expected,” It stopped next to the table where all the foods and drinks were served, most of them untouched. “However, your strength still is not up to your normal standards.”

Mobei had to force his body not to react, to not attack and kill the Thing and be done with this farce of kidnapping once and for all. It was provoking him, baiting him into being harsh. Even so the grip on his sword tightened, the ice not cracking purely because of it being made by Mobei himself.

“I don't understand what you mean by that.”

The Thing picked up one of the many berries, turning it side to side before eating it with a blank expression. Then It licked Its fingers, staring at Mobei.

“Would that suffice?” The bowl was pretty, translucid jade carved with drawings all over the rim, a piece of beauty that seemed to have been stolen from the Heavens. He could easily reach and grab it. He was wise enough to ignore the offer. Instead he kept his eyes on the Thing, considering his chances.

If Mobei attacked It, he would die. He was too tired and using a portal would be impossible at the moment. He considered running to the door, but what would be the chances of it being unlocked? Slim to none.

He might not have another opportunity, but it was most certainly a trap-

“What do you mean?” he asked instead of acting, the tip of his sword scraping the jade bowl, tapping it to the side.

“I've just demonstrated that the food is not poisoned. I have no intention of harming you, that would make this entire interaction pointless. If I wanted to kill you, you would already be dead.” It said with a small tilt of Its head to the side, picking up another berry, slowly chewing it as if having to count the bites. “You've been maintaining the bare minimum to survive the chambers,” the Thing made a noise that Mobei guessed it was supposed to be a sigh. “However, to have accurate data you need to be at your full strength. Which means you have to eat.”

“I have eaten,” he snapped as he shifted his foot, talking the smallest step towards the door. Many years ago, the possibility of even considering running away from an enemy would be unspeakable. Now? His husband had taught him more than once the advantages of living another day to fight back.

He couldn't- he wouldn't die here, away from Qinghua.

“Not enough,” the Thing moved Its fingers as if plucking the air, the clicking sound of a lock settling in place making Mobei let a curse through his teeth. “Consider this an incentive. The more you postpone having proper meals and rest, the longer it will take for you to return to user UV001.”

Again with that cursed title, as if Qinghua were a thing instead of a person, as if he were an amusing toy and all of this has been a ploy to make his husband dance in circles trying to find Mobei.

“Why do you call him that?” He didn't want to keep talking with the Thing, but he recognized an opportunity to gather information when he saw one. “Why not call him by his name?”

“Why would you want to know?” the Thing asked after eating Its third or fourth berry, bright green eyes focusing on Mobei-Jun as It started walking back towards the door. “This information is not relevant to you or to your progress in the chambers.”

This wasn’t his type of battlefield, and Mobei wasn't good at improvising. Politics and thinking fast on his feet had been Shang Qinghua's skill. It was what made them a ruthless pair. When his husband's honey words weren't enough, Mobei was there to be his sword and see that his will was done. And when Mobei ice and shadows couldn't reach the minds and hearts of enemies, Shang Qinghua was there with a whisper and a smile, ready to turn the tables to their favor.

It wasn't as if he were bad at court machinations, he had been raised by his uncle after all. He just preferred not to deal with it. And by letting Qinghua be responsible for most of the paperwork in the past years, he might have become a bit rusty on these types of confrontations.

He didn't close his eyes, but still he threw a prayer for any Gods that might hear to lend him the brains to beat the Thing in their game.

“Shang Qinghua had many names during our life together,” he said slowly, buying himself time to think. “But you call him by a title this one has never heard before. Makes this one think that you've known Shang Qinghua from somewhere else.”

“Ah,” It walked towards Mobei, offering the food one more time, a stilled smile pulling Its face, baring Its teeth in a poor imitation of kindness. “Good to see that your mind is sharp even with your levels of exhaustion. However, this information cannot be given freely.”

“And I'm willing to pay a price for it,” he took the bowl from the Thing's hand, eating one of the berries in a demonstration of good will.

The Thing's eyes glowed as they became unfocused, staring over Mobei's shoulder. The silence dragged, heavy as a serpent-boar from the southern valleys, the Thing static, as if It had been frozen.

It blinked, the image of Its face shifting like a spectral shadow, overlaying for a second, worsening Mobei's headache. The unsettling smile; that It had dropped while staring at the wall, came back with vengeance as the Thing pulled too many of the magical parchments up, the crackling magic giving It a maniac air that sent shivers down Mobei's spine.

He swallowed dry, as if a heavy stone scratched his throat and sunk down on his stomach, the taste of berries turning into ashes on his mouth.

“Let's make a deal, then.” It said as It touched one of the parchments, moving Its fingers over symbols that Mobei couldn't comprehend. “For each chamber you complete using your full strength and energy you will acquire a number of points. You can trade these points for answers. As a reward.”

“Very well,” he agreed with a sharp nod, holding back a flinch when the cold fingers touched his forehead, right on his demon mark. “Congratulations, congratulations, congratulations. I hope you enjoy your beta user experience!”

Then It vanished, leaving Mobei with the feeling of having sold his soul for a meager price.

-----

This System thanks Mobei-Jun for his efforts

[chaos-bringer-13]

Vlad, Dan and Dani move across dimensions to Gotham because of some bad stuff happening in their own dimension. Vlad has a lot of his money with him in cash, and they quickly get themselves fake id's as father and his two children. Vlad's plan is to keep low profile, wait it out and then return. Dan and Dani don't care about Vlad's plan.

Vlad is shady, Dan and Dani are causing shenanigans, and a bunch of coincidences leads to people believing that they're some sort of mafia family.

Some idiots try to rob Dani and she blurts out "Do you know who my dad is?". Dan emerges from the shadows, sends Dani off and makes extremely specific and detailed threats of slow and painful death to the would-be robbers. He finishes the speech by adding that they would be wishing for him to do all of that if his and Dani's father found out about the robbery.

Then Dan accidentally recruits a group of goons by beating up their boss and feeling kinda responsible for the henchmen.

Then Dani steals the talons.

Dan has a fight over territory with one of the smaller rogues.

Dani steals Scarecrow's chemicals.

All the while they keep convincing people that this is all a part of some bigger plan of Masters family. First it's just a misunderstanding, then they keep doing it to annoy Vlad. Some people think that Masters is just a surname, some think that Master is a rogue's name. After a while everyone knows that there's an up-and-coming crime family.

Vlad is entirely oblivious. He doesn't know shit. He ends up making a small organisation (restaurant? car repair shop?) to hire people who keep coming to him. He's not sure why his children tell all these people that he can help but they are in trouble, so he helps. And then helps again, and again. All the places he opens look like crime fronts.

Vlad is still unaware that he's a mob boss.

Maybe at some point Dan and Dani think that Vlad figured this out (because its obvious) but doesn't say anything because the police has bugged their house or because he wants plausible deniability.

Obviously all of this ends with the Bats deciding to confront Masters. It's also the perfect moment for Danny to enter.

Here, have a shitty meme showing the moment.

Danny: I left you here fOR ONE MONTH

Vlad: It's not my fault!

Danny: I figured. Dani, if I give you a candy, will you tell me what the hell you've done?

Dani: What kind of candy?

Danny, handing out a Yellow Lantern ring: A Ring Pop.

Dani, snatching it: We accidentally started a mob family :D

[alastorss]

I really enjoyed the "touching Alastor's antlers" fic! Good stuff! I was wondering if I could request reader playing with his hair and braiding it maybe? Thanks for being great! Drink water and eat a snack :p

a/n: hello!! thank you for your kind words ^ ^ i hope you enjoy this fluff!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Alastor can't pinpoint when exactly you developed such a strange habit of playing with his hair.

He first noticed it when Angel started giving him funny looks, pointing out the braids in his hair and that they were rather charming. Of course, the Radio Demon was quick to dismiss the star's claims that they suited him.

After that, he began finding little braids in his hair with or without others seeing them first. Like, for example, he would see them when he was dressing in the morning and peering into a mirror. Or other times he would see his reflection in his deep mug of coffee. They were less of a nuisance and more of a mystery than anything.

It had to be your work, surely. No one else would ever think to do something so pointless to him. And if this were some weak attempt to humiliate him in front of his peers, anyone else wouldn't have dared.

However, he never had any real evidence that it was you messing with him.

He should probably do something about it. It would be bad for his reputation if word got out that he kind of liked the delicate work of your fingers.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Once he's had enough of the mystery, Alastor decides to catch you in the act.

He turns his back to you on purpose, hogging the blankets as he always does, and pretends to be asleep. And just as he expected, your hands are in his hair less than ten minutes later.

Glaring at the wall, he lets you finish whatever it is you've done to his locks before he suddenly spins around in the bed to face you.

Satisfaction fills him as you yelp, scooting back in the sheets and sitting upright fast as lightning.

"You were awake?!"

Alastor just stares at you with narrow, unamused eyes.

"So it is you!"

You swallow loudly, nervously fidgeting with the blanket as the demon sits up in bed beside you. He scrutinizes your reaction, how shy you look, and his smile softens.

"It helps me sleep," you admit awkwardly. He watches as you fiddle with your fingers, unable to meet his eyes.

Alastor sighs with an exasperated shake of the head. "You simply could have told me, darling. No need to keep such a silly little thing a secret."

You perk up at his words. "You don't mind?"

He minds less than he'd like to admit, really. It also explains why he's been the little spoon so often lately.

"Not at all."

You breathe a slow sigh of relief before you're dragged into his arms. He lets you mess around with his hair that night, too. And he stays up a bit longer until your hands fall limp against the pillow beside his head.

The next day, Angel is surprised to see that the oh-so-feared Overlord has quite a few braids left in his hair.

He decides they suit him after all.

~

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling (send an ask to be added!)

[powderpinkprincess]

Irresponsible [Lando Norris x reader]

description: Lando has an irrational fear of a cab driver kidnapping you once- Or something like that.

Lando usually didn’t mind when you went out without him. You had your own group of friends in Monaco, and as long as your best friend, Sasha was there, Lando didn’t worry much. He really liked her because she was nice and responsible even when she drank, keeping you away from trouble.

What he did mind, however, was you taking a cab home alone. It didn’t matter how safe Monaco was or how many times you had done it before - just the thought of you, possibly even drunk, sitting in the back of a stranger’s car made his stomach twist. What if the driver wasn’t who they seemed? What if something happened, and he wasn’t there? Lando knew it was probably just in his head, but that didn’t make it any easier. It was the one thing he hated about your nights out - waiting for that text saying you were home safe, hoping that nothing had gone wrong.

At least now that Lando finally had a whole week at home, he didn’t have to worry about that, and he could just pick you up himself. Besides training, he still had tons of work to do on his laptop, so he was busy, but he was available.

He didn’t mute his phone when he went to sleep as he usually did, so you could reach him whenever you wanted. However, when you left you noticed how exhausted he looked, so you didn’t want to bother him. At 2 a.m. you were more than ready to leave, and that was when you noticed your credit card was almost empty. You had two credit cards, one to use in your day-to-day life and another one for clubbing.

You didn’t want to wake Lando, but eventually you had to. He was fast asleep when his phone rang. He picked it up half asleep when he saw your number come up. Sitting up, he wiped his eyes and yawned. “Hey babe, is everything okay?”

 “Uhm, hi, sorry to wake you up,” you started.

 “No, no,” he said, slowly coming to his senses. “It's okay,” he added with a yawn. “What is it, love?”

 “Could you maybe send some money to my blue card?” you sighed. Lando knew exactly what you meant as he used the same method when going out. If the card got lost or stolen, it was a much better situation when it was not the majority of your money disappearing.

Lando stifled a sigh as he turned the light on. “Why, did you forget to transfer money again?” he asked while he opened the bank app on his phone. Lando was a bit annoyed at you for being careless with your stuff again, but he sent some money to you anyway.

 “I’m sorry,” you replied, noticing the tone of his voice immediately.

 “Don’t apologize, just try to pay attention the next time.” He suppressed another yawn. “Are you guys going to stay out?”

 “No, I was just about to call a cab,” you explained.

He was silent for a minute, then you could hear the soft ruffling of the sheets as he moved. “Why didn’t you call me before? I would have come to pick you up.”

 “Cause you needed rest,” you mumbled. You knew he didn’t like it when you took a cab, so you expected the question.

 “Well, I'm up now, so I don't think it matters anyway,” Lando said with a hint of sarcasm. “I would have come to pick you up at any time for you, love, you know that,” he added, trying to sound sincere. He didn't want to pick a fight now that he was awake, but it was a bit of a sensitive spot for him. Lando didn't like that you would just jump into a car with a stranger. He worried about your safety more than you realised.

 “I know,” you sighed.

There was a brief silence on the line. Lando knew you were being considerate by not calling him earlier, yet he couldn't help but feel a bit frustrated. He wanted to voice that but held back, knowing it would lead to a pointless argument. “Where are you, anyway?” he asked instead.

  “At Aurora. We're still inside at the smoking area cause it's quiet and warm here,” you added. “Why?”

 “Just wondering. Aurora is on the other side of the city, and at this time of night I'd rather not send you in a random cab,” Lando replied, his concern growing. “Are the girls with you?”

 “Yes, they are. But you really don't need to come,” you pushed.

Lando knew you were trying to not bother him, but he also knew that this was pointless to argue about. Besides, he would be restless if he just stayed home now that he was up. “I'm coming,” he said with a finality in his voice.

 “Baby…” you sighed.

Lando was already getting up and putting on some clothes. “Stop protesting, Y/N. Half of the cab drivers barely even speak English here,” he retorted. “You’ve been drinking, you’re wearing that small dress, and you’re- You’re not going to call a cab. Just stay inside. I’ll be there soon.”

For a moment, you didn’t know how to reply. You could hear the frustration in his voice, but it somehow warmed your heart. “I love you,” you spoke eventually.

 “Love you, too. See you at the club,” he added before he ended the call.

He didn’t know how to explain what he felt. It was just that- So many things in his life could be taken away within a second. And he barely had anything stable to hold onto, considering how much he had to travel. He knew what people and social media were capable of, and he was just so afraid of you getting hurt. You’ve been dating over three years now, so his followers knew who you were, and he was also aware that people didn’t always have good intentions.

Twenty minutes later he was parked outside the club. He called you, so you quickly grabbed your belongings, hugged the girls goodbye, and then hurried to his car. You sat in and closed the door behind yourself.

Lando winced at the sound. “Hey, careful.”

He had taught you not to smack the door of his car, but apparently you were too drunk to notice or remember.

 “Oh, sorry,” you bit on your lip when you realized what you had done.

You checked your phone to see the time, and that was when you saw the notification of your bank application. You frowned and checked your account. Lando sent you money despite that he decided to pick you up, but you only expected an amount that would cover a cab ride. You huffed when you saw the numbers.

 “Baby, I wanted to call a cab for a ride home, not to buy the driver with the car,” you glanced at your boyfriend, who had just started the engine.

 “Consider it as a precaution,” he replied, his eyes never leaving the road as he started driving. He was still a little frustrated. “Better safe than sorry. And you know I don’t like you being in cabs with strangers at night.”

 “I know, but this is extensive. Did you think I’d have to pay a ransom for myself or what?” you sighed. “You know I have my own money, right? Just not on this card.”

 “I know,” he said, with a hint of annoyance in his voice. “But sometimes you can be irresponsible when it comes to money, like leaving your card behind or not checking your balance,” he said, recalling past incidents.

You just hummed. That was right.

 “Besides, this most likely wouldn’t be enough for a ransom,” he added.

 “I was just joking,” you mumbled. He wasn’t in a funny mood tonight.

 “I know,” Lando sighed. He stepped on the break at a red light and looked at you. “Y/N, I don’t even know how to approach this anymore. I’m not saying that I would pick you up because I’m trying to be nice. I’m saying it because I’d much rather pick you up by myself than wait until some creep kidnaps you. I know, you’re a strong, independent woman, but can’t you just let me have it my way for once?”

Your eyes widened slightly at his words. “No one is going to kidnap me.”

 “Y/N,” he pressed. “Please. Seriously.”

You couldn’t force back a small smile. Even though he could annoy you to death by being overprotective sometimes, he was still very cute.

 “Okay,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. Meanwhile, the light has turned green again.

 “Okay?” he glanced at you again quickly before looking back at the road.

 “Yeah. Okay.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed and he sent you a small smile back. Oh, how you loved him.

[nereidprinc3ss]

whiny and spoiled

in which reader is being a brat but spencer just can't help himself from taking off her clothes and going down on her anyway!

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: MUNCH!SPENCE (aka canon compliant!) oral fem receiving (duh lol) reader referred to as a girl, bratty reader, idk if this is soft dom spencer or if this is just pure unadulterated munch spencer who will eat pussy at the drop of a hat, overstimulation kinda, sexy and hot, will make u bust a/n: requests are tentatively open in that i may not complete them but i will surely consider them!! thank you guys for all the positive feedback, it's so motivating and i love that you seem to like my stuff so much! please lmk if you like this and what you'd like to see more of in the future! so many ideas and WIPs

You’re lounging on Spencer’s bed when he gets home, fiddling with one of his Rubik’s cubes and kicking your feet in the air absent-mindedly. 

You look up as he opens the bedroom door and gestures for you to remove your headphones, looking a little bemused at the scene in front of him. 

“How was work?” you ask, eyes tracking him as he shrugs off his bag and comes to kiss you in greeting. 

“It was fine,” he dismisses, hands braced on the mattress as he leans over you, looking you up and down. “Why are you wearing boots in bed?” 

“Because I didn’t feel like dealing with the laces.” 

“Take them off, please. You have no idea how much bacteria and filth you’re introducing to the place I sleep.” 

“Probably no more than I do with my hands,” you shrug, shaking the Rubiks cube in his face for added emphasis. He plucks it from your hand and sets it on the bedside table. 

“I’m asking politely,” Spencer says, raising his eyebrows slightly and standing up straight, probably wondering if this is the thing you’re going to push him on tonight. You chew your lip, cocking your head as you regard him. 

“I want to keep them on. They’re my good luck charm. People leave the scary girl wearing the stompy boots alone.” 

He circles to the foot of the bed. 

“Are you saying you want to scare me away?” 

“No. But I don’t need the boots to scare you,” you tease. 

You squeal when he grabs your ankles and pulls you down the bed, beginning to unlace one of your shoes. 

“Do these actually intimidate people?” he asks absent-mindedly, focused on loosening the laces. 

“I mean... I don’t know. Maybe some people,” you splutter after a moment, slightly flustered. 

“Hm. I guess I don’t find you all that scary to begin with,” Spencer admits, tugging the first boot off and tossing it to the ground before getting to work on the second one.  

“Shut up. I’m totally scary.” 

But you’re losing your steel as he looks down at you, eyes raking over your body. There is a hungry sort of sparkle in his eyes now—one that has become familiar and sends a thrill through you. 

“Maybe to people who don’t know you very well.” 

Your eyes narrow. 

“Don’t patronize me.” 

The second boot is removed and joins the other on the floor. His hands begin running up and down the front of your legs. You shiver.  

“I’m not patronizing you, honey. I’m just being honest.” The movement of his hands ceases as he seems to consider something. “Do you want me to be scared of you?” 

You swallow, eyes darting over his face and looming frame, wishing he would keep touching you. 

“No,” you find yourself saying. “But fear is respect. Everybody likes being respected.” 

“I don’t know if I agree that fear and respect are the same,” he muses, smiling ever so slightly, “but I respect you very much.” He resumes moving his hands, higher this time, over your thighs and under your skirt. “I just can’t imagine such a sweet girl being perceived as intimidating.” 

“I am not sweet,” you mutter, distracted by the way his hands skim so lightly over your skin—flipping your skirt over your stomach.  

“Right. You’re terrifying,” he amends gently, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your tights. “Up.” You lift your hips, allowing him to tug the sheer fabric down your legs and carefully off your feet. “The pink underwear are really scary,” he teases, snapping the fabric against your hip. 

“Shut up,” you repeat breathlessly, face heating. “You’re the one that got them for me.” 

“I did, didn’t I? They look good on you.” Finally, he looks up from the pink lace to your eyes. “Can I take them off?” 

“You don’t always have to ask, you know,” you breathe. Sometimes, the answer is obvious enough. 

“I like hearing you say yes.” 

You flush, because what he really means is that he likes when you get desperate. 

“Yes, you can take them off.” 

A smile flickers over his face as he slides the underwear down and off, making sure to take his sweet time. Every brush of his thumb on your calf, every delicate pass over your ankle gives you anticipatory chills.  

“Before I’m dead?” you ask, slightly strained. He tsks, tossing them on the bed. 

“Someone should do something about that attitude of yours.” 

“My attitude is your fault.” 

“Because I like giving you what you want? Sue me.” 

“Spencer,” you grit. 

He slings your ankles over his shoulders. 

“See? You’re not scary. You’re just whiny and spoiled.” 

And before you can defend yourself, or at least make a sufficiently withering reply, he’s leaning down, licking a broad stripe between your legs that for once renders you speechless. Any comment on the tip of your tongue dies as the tip of his becomes all you can think about, melting into a content moan while you rake your fingers through his hair. He sucks lightly on your clit until you’re rolling your hips and then he releases, moving to press kisses to your inner thighs. “Are you going to be nice now?” 

“Mhm,” you promise, wanting only for him to keep pleasuring you in that mind-numbing way of his. 

“Are you just saying that?” 

Another kiss. 

“No! Mean it,” you whimper. 

“Good girl,” he says, rubbing your outer thigh.  

The next kiss is planted on your clit, before he’s taking it into his mouth again and leaving you a whiny mess. You throw your head back and your eyes flutter shut, melting into the bed and not bothering to hold back your sounds. 

“Fuck.” Your voice is small, a gasp as he begins to flick his tongue over the bud, each brush against the sensitive spot making your hips stutter. He rubs your leg soothingly but doesn’t let up—you look back down to watch as best you can through your hazy, half-lidded eyes. “I love you,” you murmur. 

He laughs against you and the vibrations only make you feel higher, whining and bucking slightly when he begins to lap at your slick entrance—kitten licks so light they’re torturous. 

Spencer obviously has a goal in mind; there’s no hesitation and the teasing is minimal. He just wants to make you feel good. And it’s working. The man eats pussy like he’s in love with it.  

His name is rolling off your tongue when he kicks into full gear, firm, fast circles around your clit that make you dizzy and hot.  

“Oh, my god—” you cut yourself off with a languid, shameless moan, rolling your head to the side but keeping your eyes glued on him. He groans in approval as your hands card through his hair, moving one hand to slide affectionately up and down your stomach as the muscles there tense and flex.  

“Fucking obscene,” he mutters, pausing for another filthy, wet kiss to your cunt. “Taste so good, angel girl.” 

“Mm... wanna cum,” you beg, rolling your hips and hoping he’ll get the message. 

“You will.” Spencer takes a long, luxurious lick as if to prove his point, pulling a desperate mewl from your parted lips. “Because you always get exactly what you want, don't you?” 

“Mhm,” you agree, eyes screwing shut, but the reply quickly devolves into a stream of little ah’s that are so sweet Spencer has trouble reconciling their sanctity with their pornographic nature. And the way you unconsciously, innocently begin to pull him closer, trying to press yourself further into his mouth—well, it’s like he said; fucking obscene.  

Sometimes Spencer likes to tease you at this point, to pull away and say sweet and dirty things that always bring forth your most adorable, embarrassed, desperate whimpers. But you taste so good, and you are whiny and spoiled, and you make such pretty noises when you’re all soft and needy like this and he can’t bear to pull away. Not when you deserve to cum. And it’s thoughts like these that are the reason you’re a spoiled princess, he muses peripherally. Because he’s fucking whipped for you. 

“That’s so good,” you exhale, “just like that, please—fuck!” 

He knows you’re going to cum, and there are many things he could do, many things he could say to fuck you over for his own enjoyment, but now he wants more than just about anything he’s ever wanted to work you apart and taste you cumming on his tongue. So he keeps running a reassuring hand over your stomach, trying to remind you to breathe as you approach your peak. 

You finish, a slow wave of ecstasy washing over you, chanting his name as your hips sporadically roll and stutter into his face, and he’s making out with your soaked, messy pussy in a way that would never lead one to believe he’s ever been shy or squeamish or hesitant in any way.  

“Spencer,” you yelp, incandescent warmth radiating in soft waves from your core and slowing your movements as your hips twitch in an attempt to escape the continual onslaught of his mouth. 

“You can take it for a minute, honey,” 

A defeated, half-pleasure half-pain whine lets him know he’s won as he continues to kiss your throbbing cunt, but soon small, weak moans are slipping unbidden past the barrier of your lips. You realize he’s going to make you cum again and there’s nothing you can do about it but tighten your hold in his hair, groan, and ride his tongue as he eats you for all that you’re worth. 

The second orgasm is softer, blurrier, and equally perfect as the first. It threatens the already tenuous hold you have on your consciousness, strand after strand snapping until you’re barely hanging on. 

“Spencer,” you repeat, slurring as you try to shut your legs. “Please, can’t, baby.” 

“You could,” he says, sitting up and closing your useless legs for you, massaging the weak muscles. “You’ve done more.” 

“Mm-mm,” you disagree, chest rising and falling as your breathing slows. “Don’t wanna.” 

“That’s okay, angel. I’m not gonna force you.” 

You sigh, obviously satisfied. “That felt really good.” 

“I bet it did,” he chuckles, finally moving to lay down next to you. Immediately you curl up to him, and he smooths your skirt back down before tracing soothing patterns on the leg you’ve slung over him. “You’re so cute.” 

“Don’t go spreading it around.” 

“Never,” he promises, mocking but in good nature. The two of you lay in comfortable silence for a few moments, as you consider his decidedly unsatisfying answer. 

“You’re not even a little scared of me?” 

He smoothes your hair away from your eyes. 

“No, honey, I’m not. But I’m sure other people find you utterly terrifying.” 

You open your eyes to regard him ruefully, before they narrow again. 

“You have a little something...” you begin, gesturing to your mouth. He snorts. 

“Oh, do I?” 

[yuiiiriii]

You hadn’t answered Megumi’s texts at all. He understood it was early in the morning so he just told himself you were still sleeping. But then noon came around and nothing.

Ok weird…

He sends you a text that he was gonna stop by, to which you still hadn’t answered. He was growing worried. He takes quick strides to your dorm room, doing his best to keep his heart at ease.

He knocks softly on your door.

No answer.

He gulps.

He opens the door, stepping inside your room, only to be met with a lump under the covers.

“Y/n?” He questions, he noticed the tensing of your shoulders even under then blankets.

“I’ve been texting you, what’s wrong?” He walks over to you ready to pull the sheets off of you.

“No! It’s cold.” You squeak out and he blinks. “Can I see your face?” You peak an eye out and his brows furrow at the sight of them being red and swollen.

“Why are you crying?” He kneels down and you clutch your stomach.

“I got my period. My stupid cramps hurt s’much megs.” You pout and he frowns.

“Uh—is there anything I can do to help?” He pulls the sheets more down so he can see your face, rubbing his thumb along your cheek. You sigh, leaning your face into his palm.

“My heating pad and pills.” You mumble.

“They’re in that drawer.”

Megumi leaves a kiss on your forehead, sliding the drawer open and grabbing your things. He hooks in the heating pad and sets it to medium heat. After he feels it grow warmer, he opens your pills.

“Come on pretty.” He says so softly.

You wince when you sit up and it only worries Megumi, tugging at his heart strings. He helps you drink water and finish swallowing your medication. Giving you small kisses as a silent good job.

Once you lay back down, he places the heating pad over your lower abdomen, making you sigh in relief. He smiles at the pure bliss on your face. You look so tired, he wonders how long the pain kept you up. As if you read his mind you tug at his hand.

“Lay with me.” You whisper and he nods, a small smile gracing his lips.

He slides under the covers behind you, his hand lying right on top of the heating pad, adding pressure to your abdomen, making you feel even better. He nuzzles his nose in your hair, sighing once he’s comfortable.

“You had me worried you know?” He says low, his voice raspy, buzzing through your ear and throughout your body.

“I know I’m sorry, I was in a lot of pain.” His arm around you squeezes at that.

“Just try to let me know, you know I’ll do anything to help.” He pecks the shell of your ear, his hands now gliding through your hair soothingly.

“I will, thanks megs, I love you.” You whisper and he melts, his cheeks growing hot as he stuffs his face in the space between your neck and shoulder blade.

“I love you too.” He murmurs.

He falls asleep before you, only then do you check your phone, giggling at all the messages he had sent.

Poor baby.

© yuiiiriii

[gotta-winwin]

OT13 Reaction -- to you having a fan account

SCOUPS:

he finds it so incredibly adorable that you have a fan acc dedicated to them. he follows it from his burner acc asap, adding it to his list of accs he checks daily. is so surprised when he finds out that he's actually been following the account already, having been using it for updates on seventeen. amazed to know you're the one behind @ svtfanclub.

JEONGHAN:

teases you about it every chance he gets. he insists you're sooo obsessed with him and everything he does. you have to start second thinking everything you post about him, knowing even the smallest thing might set off a firework of omg you're sooo in love, at least hide it better. ik, ik, you can't help it. i'm irresistible. smirks when he sees you typing on your phone, fingers already itching to save the post before you've even posted it.

JOSHUA:

has a dedicated saved folder just for your posts. saves every single one to look back on later. brings them up in daily conversation randomly - you guys could be talking about what to have for dinner and he'd throw in a soooo i saw your latest post, the one with my photoshoot pictures~ turns red whenever he sees you thirsting for him online.

JUN:

singlehandedly turns your svt updates fan acc into a svt meme acc. he sends you exclusive photos of the members whenever he can, urging you to turn them into memes and to post them. cackles reading all the comments and only ever sends you good pics of himself. he refuses to be caught lacking.

HOSHI:

remember when hoshi spammed weverse with horanghae? he will 100% steal your phone and do that on your fan acc. accidentally stirs up speculation about whether or not you know hoshi or if you're trolling your followers. insists you post one photo of him a day, resulting in the acc being more of a hoshi shrine than a svt fanpage (oops.)

WONWOO:

lowkey impressed how routinely your updates are despite your busy life. he's a little embarrassed by some of your more....enthusiastic posts, but he appreciates the amount of love. ends up adding the acc to his phone so ya'll can run it together. he handles all the nomination updates and real other stuff - allowing you to spend your time posting more fun content about the members.

WOOZI:

doesn't really get the point of it. he does his best to understand the hows and whys of running a fan acc, ending up just telling you how much it means to him that you're supporting his work. gives you exclusive mini interviews about his creative process and songwriting, leaving your followers wondering where on earth you're getting these insider info.

MINGHAO:

touched when he notices you have dedicated posts to him and his art projects. scolds you whenever he sees you interacting with haters, reminding you that as much as he appreciates you defending them, violence is not the answer! he's always there to remind you whenever he feels like you need a break for social media, turning off your phone for you and proposing a day out.

DK:

cries as he scrolls through your posts, not being able to take how thoughtful and supportive you are. clings onto you the whole day after he finds out, whispering how much he loves you and how much it means to him. turns on notifications for your posts and smiles whenever he sees them.

MINGYU:

accidentally likes one of your posts thirsting over him with his main acc. panics and deletes it but it's too late - the ever-watching carats have spotted him. sends millions of followers swarming to your acc and he can only shrug when you confront him about it. claims its for media and promotion purposes. sends you exclusive gym pics and thirst traps for you to post - although some of them are too spicy so you keep them to yourself.

SEUNGKWAN:

has that iconic shocked expression when you tell him before taking out his own phone and showing you that surprise! he has one too. the two of you now sometimes coordinate your posting times and interact with each other in the comments. he will tsk with disappointment if a post doesn't met his standards. competitive ass turns it into a competition.

VERNON:

he's not surprised. you seem to know like everything about seventeen already, so it's only natural you help inform other carats! he'll send you trends he thinks you should incorporate into your acc and provides you with behind-the-scenes pics. gets you vip access to any event so you can grab those up close shoots of him and his members - nepo baby(?) at its finest.

DINO:

his ego is boosted to the max when he finds out. loves that you found a way to love him loudly despite your relationship being private. giggles to himself (although he'll never admit it) whenever you post about him and sends your posts into the svt gc for his hyungs to see.

[hotchnerwrites]

Heyy!!! Oh my god i love your writings SO MUCH i am obsessed!! And i have a request 💘💘 can you do Hotch and girlfriend just moving in together after some times of dating and Hotch noticing issues with her eating habits, her putting on home workout videos at night after dinner out of nowhere etc etc? You can do however you like smut, fluff, angst whatever feels right. YOU'RE GREAT! LOVE YOU💋💋💋💋💘💘💘 CANT WAIT!

Not So Fancy

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: SFW, allusions to smut, mentions of disordered eating, hurt/comfort

A/N: hello hello!!! thank you so much for your kind words and your patience <333 really appreciate it. i hope you don't mind, i changed your request just a little bit to make it more of a oneshot rather than many events building up. if you'd still like me to write it as separate events, please feel free to shoot me another req! more than happy to do so. anyway, i really hope you like this and it's what you wanted. enjoy the read! mwah mwah mwah <3

My requests are open. Send me stuff! Please read the rules before asking, and be advised there is a slight wait time right now. But I will post for sure. :)

The air was still thick with the warmth of what you’d just shared. 

You lay with your head on Aaron’s chest, his arms wrapped around you. You could hear his heartbeat beating rhythmically. Steady. Reliable. 

His fingers traced gentle patterns against your skin, and you inhaled deeply, trying to match your breathing to his pulse. But even as you lay there, content for a moment, the familiar unease still tugged at your bones, hidden beneath the surface.

Aaron stirred then, breaking you out of your reverie. He stretched his arms above his head with a satisfied sigh, ensuring not to jostle you. “You hungry?” He asked, kissing the top of your head, “Wanna eat in bed? I’ll grab some snacks.”

A simple question. So why did the malaise keep spreading?

You’d been trying to avoid this. It’s not that you weren’t hungry, but the idea of food right now felt like too much. So you forced a smile and said, “No, I’m fine,” hoping he wouldn’t notice. You weren’t trying to be difficult, but you couldn’t help it. “Thank you, though,” you added, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. 

But Aaron noticed. He always did. The way your shoulders tensed and how you instinctively tried to curl inwards. He didn’t even need to profile you; he had always been able to read you like an open book.

“Are you sure?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his voice, though it was clear he was picking up on something more. “What about some chips, or maybe some chocolate? I’ve got those After-8 Mints you love…”

“No,” you cut him off a little too quickly, trying to make your voice sound as casual as possible. “I really just don’t wanna eat right now.”

His eyes were on you now, playfulness gone. You could feel him searching your gaze, trying to make sense of every micro-expression. You were already naked under the sheets, but this— this exposed you. Like a bloodied shard of glass laid bare for him to inspect. And you hated it.

"Hey," Aaron said softly, his tone muted, "Talk to me. What’s going on? You’ve barely eaten today."

You hesitated, trying to push away the knot in your stomach, but it only seemed to tighten with every word he spoke. You sat up slightly, arms wrapped tightly around your knees, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

“I’m fine, Aaron,” you said, this time with more firmness, though your voice still trembled ever so slightly. “Really. I’m just not hungry.”

Aaron's gaze softened for a moment, but there was something behind his eyes—a concern, a quiet worry. He knew you too well by now to let this slide. “What about something light, then? Maybe some fruit? Or just a little snack?” His voice stayed gentle, but there was no mistaking the way he was probing now, trying to find a way in.

“No, Aaron. I don’t want anything.” You sighed, growing more agitated, your patience beginning to wear thin. “I really just don’t wanna eat right now, okay?”

Aaron’s jaw tightened slightly as he leaned back on the bed, still watching you closely. “You’ve been saying that for the past few days. And every time, you get more and more distant. What's going on, really?"

You tried to brush it off, but it was starting to feel like a pressure cooker, the conversation simmering beneath the surface. The fact that Aaron wasn’t backing down only made you more defensive. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this conversation was about to go in a direction you didn’t want it to.

“I told you, I’m fine,” you snapped a little too harshly, your shoulders stiffening. You tried to turn away from him, hoping he’d drop it. "I just don’t feel like eating right now."

But Aaron wasn’t about to let it go. His voice dropped a few degrees, and you could hear the frustration underneath the calm. “Okay, stop. I’ve seen what’s going on. You’re acting like this isn’t a big deal, but it is. You’ve barely touched any food, and I’ve noticed you sneaking in workouts late at night. You’re pushing yourself too hard, and I can’t just stand by and pretend like I don’t see it.”

Your breath hitched, and you instinctively pulled the blanket tighter around yourself as if it would shield you from the tension growing between you two. You wanted to hide, to bury the feelings, but he was too sharp, too attentive. 

“I’m just trying to get healthy,” you said quickly, hoping it would be enough of an excuse to end the conversation. “I’m just making some changes, Aaron. That’s all.”

His eyes searched yours, a mixture of confusion and concern in his gaze. “Get healthy? You’re already healthy. You don’t need to starve yourself or overexert yourself to be that. What’s really going on?”

You hesitated for a moment, trying to formulate something that wouldn’t make you sound ridiculous. But the truth was, you didn’t know how to explain it without feeling vulnerable—without feeling exposed.

“I just... I don’t know,” you began, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “You’re a big, important man, Aaron. You’re a fancy guy, and I just feel like... I don’t know. I want to match up with you. To look the way you deserve. To be perfect, especially around your coworkers. You always have everything together, and I don’t want to be the one who looks out of place. I don’t want them to look at me like I’m... less than.”

He didn’t say anything after your little speech. He wasn’t even making eye contact. The silence stretched on. This was exactly why you hadn’t said a word. 

You stared down at your hands, your nails digging into your palms from how tightly you were clenching them. Humiliation prickled under your skin. You wished you could claw the words back into your mouth, pretend none of it had ever been said.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, trying to withdraw the moment. “Forget it. I don’t know why I—”

“Stop.”

His voice wasn’t sharp. It was soft—firm in the way only Aaron Hotchner could be when he actually cared about something. It rooted you to the spot.

Finally, finally, he looked up at you. His brow was furrowed like he was thinking so hard it hurt. And then he said, very quietly, almost like he was forcing it out:

“You don’t need to look a certain way for me. Or for anyone. I love you just as you are—just you.”

You blinked at him.

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks,” he continued, the words sounding clumsy in his mouth, like he wasn’t used to letting them out. “I care about you. You could show up to a Bureau gala in pyjamas and I wouldn’t—”

He broke off, dragging a hand through his hair. His ears were slightly pink.

The ache in your chest tightened, loosened, tightened again.

“I’m… I’m just trying to get healthy,” you repeated— weakly, stupidly. Trying to hold on to the walls you’d built.

Aaron didn’t argue anymore. He simply reached over, gently touching your hand. “I don’t need you to be anything but who you are. Healthy doesn’t mean forcing yourself to be something you’re not, and it doesn’t mean changing to meet some idea of perfection. And honestly, I think you already look pretty perfect to me.”

There was a long silence between you, the tension beginning to dissolve. No grand gestures or big speeches—just him showing you he understood, and that you didn’t have to prove anything.

“You... you don’t think I’m embarrassing?” you asked, his words acting like a balm on your heart.

Hotch let out a breath that was almost — almost — a laugh. 

“No," he said. "I think you’re the only thing that feels easy anymore.”

The world tilted a little sideways. 

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“You’re not so fancy either, Agent Hotchner,” you mumbled, leaning into the warmth of his embrace.

Thanks for reading! I appreciate any likes/comments/reblogs/follows. Constructive criticism is welcome. Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[thewritetofreespeech]

Mark Grayson 💕 kissing somewhere other than lips

send a heart - 💕 kissing somewhere other than lips

[sort of a part ii to this request x]

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

After your workout and a quick shower in the locker room, you were finally done for the day and allowed to go home. You sigh as you heard the automatic doors open & shut for the last barrier to your freedom. This new training Cecil and his team had you on was murder.

You smile despite your sore muscles as you see Mark waiting for you in the hallway. Dressed in his casuals as well. No longer Invincible but Mark Grayson who was going to walk you home. Maybe stay and watch a movie. Maybe do some other stuff…..

“Good work today you two.” You turn to look over your shoulder just as you link your fingers with Mark to see Cecil behind you. How did the man always seem to appear like that? “Stats like that and we’ll be ready for the Super Bowl in no time.” You weren’t sure what the Super Bowl was in this scenario, but Cecil seemed certain it was going to come. “[Y/N], a word?”

Though it was phrased as a question, you knew as well as anyone that it wasn’t. You growl in your throat and squeeze Mark’s hand. “I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be outside.” He promised. Squeezing your hand back before he went out the doors.

You smile wistfully at your sweet boyfriend, before you clear it from your face and turn to Cecil. “Yes?”

“How is the new training going for you?” You arch a brow at Cecil’s question. He knew how it was going. You went over the stats report with the science guys personally with him in the room. So why the question?

“Fine.” You answer cautiously. “Why?”

“I just want to make sure my top players have the resources they need.” There was a pause as you and the older man stare at each other. Finally he added, “how’s Mark doing?”

‘Aahhh’ You thought as you realize you had come to the crux of this line of questioning. This wasn’t about you. It was about Mark. “Mark is fine.”

“You sure about that?” You arch your brow again. Was he questioning how well you knew your boyfriend? “Mark’s been through a lot. His dad tried to kill him, along with half the planet. He had to get his bones and skin stitched back together. People depending on him to save the world.”

“If you’re so worried he can’t handle it, then why don’t you take a little off Mark’s plate so he can.”

Cecil’s frown let you know that he did not like that suggestion. “I’m not saying Mark can’t handle it. I’m saying that I want us to be vigilant in case the boy wonder starts to crack.” It felt like there was another show about to drop. You don’t remember Cecil being this soft or altruistic with the rest of you. “I know you and Mark are close. I’m asking that you help him if he starts to buckle. And, let us know so we can manage it.”

You were shocked. “You want me to spy on Mark.” That’s what all of this was about.

“I’m not asking you to spy on him, [Y/N]. I’m just asking you to keep an eye on him and report back if you notice anything.”

“You literally just said the definition of spying.” You grit your teeth. Disgusted at the mere suggestion you would betray Mark’s trust. “I’ve done a lot of things ‘for the cause’ Cecil. But I’m not doing that.”

“So you would rather get blindsided again like the last time if Mark ever cracks?” Cecil argued. “I’m not asking for State Secrets on him here [Y/N]. I’m just asking for a head up on his mental state.”

“Get him a shrink then if you’re so worried. But I’m not doing it!” This conversation was over as far as you were concerned, so you turned to leave and meet back up with Mark.

“Everything ok?” Mark asked when he saw you. Immediately noticing your annoyed and angry expression.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” You tell him. Quickly schooling your features into something softer. “Just some new thing Cecil wanted me to do for training. And I was like ‘agh…oh my god…enough already…I yield’.” Mark laughed at your joke and kissed your cheek as he re-linked up your hands.

Your smile back to him was a little jilted as you debated on telling Mark what actually happened. It would hurt his feelings to know that the people he was working so hard for him didn’t trust him. That, in the end, despite everything he had done, they still thought he was like his father. But didn’t he deserve to know that the people he was working for didn’t trust him? You weren’t sure what the right answer was.

In the end, you left it alone for now. You weren’t sure if it was the right answer or not, but you just didn’t want to deal with it. You weren’t going to spy on Mark, so what else could they do?

[cheynovak]

Just what I needed

Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character     

Summary: Y/N has a bad moment after a hunt. She text Dean for comfort.

Warnings: None.

English is not my first language 

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

Y/N stared at her phone, her thumb hovering over the "Send" button. She knew she probably shouldn't, but the weight on her chest was suffocating. Before she could talk herself out of it, she hit send.

Y/N: *I could really use a hug right now.*

Her stomach immediately twisted with regret. What was she doing? She never did this—never let her walls down. And she definitely didn’t go running to Dean Winchester for comfort. She was tougher than that. At least, she tried to be.

A few moments passed before her phone buzzed with a reply.

Dean: *You okay?*

Her heart skipped a beat. Of course, he would be concerned. She never asked for help, never showed weakness. She started typing, trying to downplay the situation.

Y/N: *Yeah, I’m fine. Forget it. Long day, that’s all.*

She bit her lip, knowing Dean wouldn’t just forget it. He was Dean, after all.

Dean: *Don’t lie to me. What’s going on? You never ask for stuff like this.*

Her fingers hovered over the screen again. Damn it. Why did he have to see through her so easily?

Y/N: *Seriously, Dean, it’s no big deal. Just tired from the hunt. I’ll be fine. Really.*

Dean: *Be there in 10.*

Her eyes widened. Panic surged through her.

Y/N: *No, Dean, I’m fine! You don’t need to come over. I overreacted. *

But it was too late. She knew it. When Dean made up his mind, there was no stopping him.

Ten minutes later, she heard the rumbling sound of baby followed by a loud knock at the door, and the unmistakable sound of it swinging open with force.

"Y/N?" Dean called out, his voice filled with concern.

Before she could even think, she was moving—running to him. The moment she saw him standing in the doorway, her resolve crumbled. Without a word, she threw her arms around him, clinging to him as though he were the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

Dean’s arms wrapped around her instantly, holding her tight. "Hey, I got you, sweetheart." he murmured into her hair, his voice soft, soothing. "It’s okay. I’m here."

Her face buried into his chest, and for the first time in a long while, Y/N let herself break. The tears she had been holding back for what felt like forever finally spilled over, soaking into Dean's flannel.

Dean just held her, one hand rubbing small circles on her back, the other resting securely around her shoulders. "You don’t always have to be strong, you know," he whispered. "It’s okay to let it out."

She shook her head against his chest, sniffling. "I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you come all the way here. I just... I don’t know what I was thinking."

"Don’t apologize," Dean said firmly, leaning back just enough to tilt her chin up so he could look into her eyes. "You had a crappy hunt. You needed a friend. You called me. That’s what I’m here for. You don’t have to do this alone, Y/N."

She nodded, her throat too tight to speak. But as she stood there, wrapped in Dean’s warmth, she realized maybe—just maybe—she didn’t always have to be strong. At least, not when she had him.

And for now, that was enough.

--

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Tag list:-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read!

@lmg14 @kr804573 @nancymcl @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @soab1967 @livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78 @whimsyfinny @kamisobsessed @jensens-bonnie-on-the-side @ferrersbiggestfan @spxideyver @kamisobsessed @deans-queen @yvonneeeee @libby99hb

[rekino2114]

I’m a day late ;-; just ignore if you’re not taking valentines requests anymore. What if Asa and Yoru were both in a relationship with a Male Reader, and Yoru decides to send Y/n a spicy picture, and then Asa retakes control a few minutes later and goes to text Y/n and gets SUUUPER embarrassed when she finds the pictures (because technically her body and Yoru’s body are the same body) and maybe Yoru teases her about it, but then Y/n says that their both beautiful and then both Asa and Yoru are blushing messes.

Asa and yoru sending you a spicy picture

Pairing:asa mitaka x male reader x yoru

A/n:don't worry even if you were late the prompt was still in the normal list so I just did it now. Also I usually just do a smau for this prompt but since you only asked for one character (technically two) and added some narrative I thought I should just do a oneshot EVERYONE INVOLVED IN THIS IS OVER 18

Suggestive post

It was one of the rare moments where asa was asleep and yoru was awake. The war devil was getting bored of not doing anything in her host's mind, so she decided to take control of the body for a while now that asa couldn't do anything about it.

She instantly undid her hair and threw the hair tie somewhere before closing her eyes and thinking about what to do before getting an idea.

"I'm gonna check her phone, let's see if she has anything interesting"

She grabbed asa's phone and rolled her eyes when she saw the wallpaper, a selfie of you and asa on a date. She proceeded to check the gallery to see if there were any pictures of her and you to set as a new wallpaper just to piss her off but was disappointed when she found none.

"Seriously? Not even one? You're so selfish"

She continued searching and blushed intensely before smirking and licking her lips at another picture she found.

"You were seriously keeping this to yourself? you really are selfish"

Among all of the pictures of cats and you on dates there was a picture that you had sent asa after going to the gym, you were shirtless and your muscles were fully on display, she didn't even ask you for that picture but you sent it anyway and she definitely didn't complain.

"Fuck he's so hot, keeping my boyfriend's sexy pics all to yourself is one of the things I hate, i think you need to learn your lesson and I just know how"

She took off her clothes and grabbed the phone to take a few pictures of herself before smiling and putting her clothes back on.

She then went to your contact (while getting angry at all of the lovey-dovey messages you and asa shared) and sent you the pictures she took along with a message

"Enjoy this until asa wakes up"

She didn't have to wait long for your response

"Yoru?"

"You think this body is asa's?"

".....it....is"

"Whatever, she'd never do something like this anyway, that's just one of the many reasons why I'm better"

"I gotta admit you look great"

"I knew it"

"I meant both you and asa"

"Really?"

"You literally have the same body"

"Whatever at least you still liked it, if you want more you know who to ask~"

"❤️"

After receiving your last message, yoru went back to sleep and waited for asa to wake up who when she did, went to check your messages since she saw you sent her a new one.

"............YORU!!!"

"What, what? I'm awake"

"Why did you send y/n a picture of you bending over naked!?"

"Dunno, that seems like your body to me"

"And the scars and eyes too?!"

"I made you a favor you know? He's gonna get bored of you if you don't so stuff like this"

"N-no he's not"

"Then you're just a terrible girlfriend for not paying y/n back for that pic he sent you and a terrible host for not sharing it with me"

"Y-you found that?!"

"I sure did. Tell me how many times did you enjoy that picture while I was asleep huh? Would it have killed you to show me too, I'm his girlfriend too after all"

"S-shut up!"

"So you're not refusing my claim, it's fine asa i know how hot y/n is, I get why you couldn't help your-"

"I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP!

"Nope, this is your punishment for not telling me about that insane selfie, by the way you made it very hard to take a good picture, your bobbs are so small, you're luck you have at least a nice ass but I guess-"

"WHAT PART OF SHUT UP DO YOU NOT GET!?"

"And what part of don't keep your boyfriend's hot photos to yourself do you not get!?"

"J-just-"

Their internal arguing was suddenly interrupted by the phone emitting a notification sound. When asa went to check it out, she saw it was another message from you

"By the way when asa wakes up I want her to know that she's beautiful, you both are and I love you both equally never forget that. Even if knowing you you're probably fighting right now 😅"

Reading this caused both girls to quiet down and blush heavily

".....so we're definitely sending him more pics like that"

".....i-i'll consider it"

[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER EIGHT: CONNECTIONS

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SUMMARY ↳ So.. dinner with the family. Yikes. Damian doesn't release his hold until you're both in a quieter part of the manor, away from potential eavesdroppers. "You enjoy teasing me, don't you?" he murmurs, voice dropping. You grin saliciously. "Of course I do," you reply, your voice teasing as you lean in closer to Damian. "It keeps things interesting, doesn't it?" pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: subtle "accusations" of cheating wc: 4.4k NOTICE: im gonna start adding my notes/end notes on ao3 from now on if i have any. they just include my yapping (the beginning notes are usually just warnings anyway) i might go back and add them to previous chaps, might not.

You actually spend the next morning skipping your first classes in exchange for visiting the Den. You’ve had perfect attendance so far, so you’re only grievance is that you won’t be able to brag about it anymore. You’ll send in an excuse note later.

The reason for your absence is to take note of what you need for the badassium. Karen lists things off for you as you write them on a little note. A lot of it is high-grade expensive stuff. If Victoria can’t get it for you, you’ll just ask her for the money to get it yourself. Or just ask her where you can steal it.

You arrive only a tad bit late to ballet class. That’s a lie, there’s five minutes left till the bell. The teacher barely notices, too occupied with scolding some of the other kids. Victoria sees you enter and scurries over.

“Where were you?” she asks.

You pull out the list, holding it up to her. “Making this.” You hold it out to her. “It’s a list of all the stuff I need. You wanna help me? Get me these.”

She takes the paper, looking it over. “What is it?”

“Materials I need. I’m building something really important.” Victoria’s eyes roam the sheet, before nodding and tucking it into her bra.

“How fast do you need them?”

“As fast as you can get them without raising suspicion. If you can’t get them, either give me the money or tell me where I can pick it up myself.”

Victoria raises a brow. “You’d steal it?”

You shrug. “What, like it’s hard?”

She huffs is disbelief. She’ll get used to you soon enough. The bell rings, and you and Victoria walk out together. “My staff are very discreet,” she reassures. “I will get it to you.”

“Drop it off at this location,” you text her the address. It’s an old apartment close to your Den. No one lives there, you made sure.

Determined to be of use, she nods. You wave her goodbye as you drop her off. Since you missed first period, you’ll only get to see Damian at the end of the day. You also missed lunch, so there goes your most fulfilling meal of the day.

You’re beginning to feel like a zombie. You’ve always been isolated from your peers, not on purpose, most of the time. Your mind is simply far beyond theirs in every universe, it seems. It’s why you started online classes, you simply just couldn’t stand being in school with others. It was just so boring . Unfortunately for you, you’re stuck in class. Life’s rough. Maybe you should start skipping more often. You can definitely catch up, you just have to not miss too many classes.

Ms. M greets you with a bright and cheery disposition, quite the opposite to your current demeanor. You give Ms. M a stiff but polite smile, trying to muster some enthusiasm. She’s one of the few teachers you actually like, her passion for the subject always evident.

You place your head down on your desk, feeling the lull of boredom pull you under. As Ms. M begins her lecture, you try to focus, but your mind keeps drifting back to the list of materials and your plans for the badassium. The thought of finally making significant progress makes you giddy.

Luckily for your peace of mind, Ms. M has a short lecture for the day with no assignment. She leaves the class alone for the remainder of the day. You shut your eyes, breathing calm. Feeling the call of sleep, you answer, escaping from the boringness of the day.

Except a finger flicks your ear, rudely disturbing your would-be sleep.

“Damian,” you murmur, rising. “May I help you?”

“Where were you this morning?” He doesn’t waste time with pleasantries. He never does.

“Not here,” you grumble. “I had to take care of some stuff. And I was kind of thinking about not even coming at all.” It’s true. Most people in their right mind just stay home if they’re even ten minutes late.

Damian picks a piece of lint from your collar. “I thought that perhaps you were affected by Ivy’s abilities. After all, I doubt you are capable of taking care of yourself.”

You cup Damian’s face, making his lips pucker. “Aw, is this your roundabout way of saying you want to take care of me? You’re so sweet.”

He takes your hands into his own, pulling them away. “I didn’t think you the unfaithful type, [Name].”

You blink. “Huh?”

“Considering the compromising position I found you and Victoria in, certainly the two of you are… together?” His face twists as he says the last word. Oh, yeah. You forgot that he walked in on the two of you. The whole carnival thing occupied your thoughts.

“Well, first of all–” you start, placing your hands in your lap, tugging his hands there as well. “–you make it sound like we’re in the regency era and I’ve just compromised the young lady Victoria,” you huff in a British accent, rolling your eyes. “Second of all, what you walked in on was a… confusing situation. We kissed, agreed we were better of as friends, and that’s that. I am not the unfaithful type, fuck you,” you grin. Leaning back, you raise your legs so perch them on his thighs. Surprisingly, he lets you.

“So don’t worry, I’m still available and I would never cheat on you, baby.”

He pinches your thigh in retaliation, before moving to massage your calves. You let your head hang over the edge of your chair, relaxing. Damian’s got skilled hands, he has too. From his background as an assassin and his current occupation as Robin. His fingers work the stress out of your muscles. His hands feel really nice.

“We’ll go to my home to work more on the project,” he mutters, focused on his current task. You hum in contentment, the tension in your muscles melting away under Damian's skilled hands. “Sounds good to me,” you murmur. “Alfred makes really good sandwiches.”

Damian continues to knead your calves for a few more moments before finally stopping. “You’ve become spoiled.”

You laugh softly, sitting up and stretching. “Says the rich one.” You and Damian gather your things as the last bell rings. Stepping outside, you breathe in the cool air. It’s getting colder in Gotham, soon it’ll start snowing. Damian’s hand finds its place on your back, guiding you to the car. You make sure to greet Alfred as you step inside. 

“How’s Jon doing?” you ask. “I hope he isn’t too embarrassed about what happened.”

“Jon is fine. The antidote did it’s part. As for his unnecessary embarrassment…” he trails off, “...you should ask him yourself.”

You tsk. “Useless,” you joke. You have a feeling Jon will do anything to ignore and forget about what happened, so you’re not sure how easy it’ll be to ask him.

Wayne Manor stands before you once again as you arrive. The sprawling estate is both imposing and welcoming, a testament to the Wayne family’s legacy. You step out of the car, feeling a mix of anticipation and exhaustion.

When you enter, you’re greeted by a loud bark. A large dog, a Great Dane, rounds the corner. He trots happily towards Damian, panting. Damian gives him generous pets.

“This is Titus,” he introduces. Titus barks at you in greeting.

You grin reaching out a hand to pet him. “Hi, Titus.” Titus leans into your scritches, making you coo and increase your petting tenfold. 

“Sorry about that! I guess he knew you were here and got excited,” says a voice, rounding the corner. A figure clad is comfy loungewear makes his way over to the two of you. You clock him immediately as none other than Dick Grayson. He bears a charming smile as he approaches.

“You must be Damian’s friend I’ve heard so much about,” he greets, holding out a hand.

You shake it, looking at Damian smugly. “You talk about me, Dami?” You grin as he glares at you.

“I’m his older brother, Dick.”

The urge to make a joke is very strong, but you persevere. Wrong audience. “Nice to meet you. Damian hasn't mentioned you at all," you tease lightly, shooting Damian a playful glance.

Dick chuckles, looking between you and Damian with a knowing expression. "I can see that. Well, if you're Damian's friend, you're welcome here anytime. And it's always nice to meet someone who can keep him on his toes."

You chuckle softly, liking his easygoing demeanor. "Thanks, Dick. I'll do my best to keep him in line."

Damian doesn’t like how you and his brother are plotting against him in front of him, so he grabs you arm and drags you away. “We have work to do, Grayson. Do not bother us.”

Dick grins and winks as you two disappear from view. As Damian drags you away, you shoot Dick a playful wave before disappearing from view. You can hear Dick's laughter echoing behind you, amused.

Damian doesn't release his hold until you're both in a quieter part of the manor, away from potential eavesdroppers. "You enjoy teasing me, don't you?" he murmurs, voice dropping.

You grin saliciously. "Of course I do," you reply, your voice teasing as you lean in closer to Damian. "It keeps things interesting, doesn't it?"

“It seems to be your only talent,” he says, turning to look at you. Your faces are close together, breaths intermingling.

Your playful grin widens at his comment, enjoying the closeness as Damian's gaze meets yours. "Oh, I have plenty of talents," you retort smoothly, teasingly brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. Damian's pupils dilate, a glint flickering in his eyes before he regains his composure.

"Is that so?" he challenges, a smirk playing on his lips. His hand, which had been resting on your arm, moves to lightly trace the line of your jaw, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

You lean into his touch, meeting his gaze with a mixture of playfulness and genuine affection. "Mhm," you murmur, your voice low. "But you'll have to stick around to find out all my secrets."

The intensity in Damian's eyes deepens, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. "Maybe I intend to," he replies, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

Before the moment can escalate further, a loud bark interrupts the thick atmosphere. Titus, ever the loyal companion, trots over to Damian’s side, breaking the spell between you and Damian. You chuckle softly, pulling back slightly as Damian withdraws his hand.

Damian straightens beside you, brushing his hands down his front. Clearing his throat, grumbles. “We are distracted, we should be working.”

You shrug, easy. “You’re the guide.”

Damian leads you into the same room you worked in the last time you visited. Titus takes perch under the table, settling in and curling up. Today will probably be the last time you’re invited over for a while, if not indefinitely. You’re sure you’ll finish the powerpoint in an hour or so, so you wonder if Damian will kick you out as soon as that happens.

You hand Damian your laptop, since it’s been mostly you doing the actual work, it’s his turn. His fingers fly across the keys as he types. You sit on the table next to him and point out things he should add. You both work in comfortable silence, occasionally broken by your comments and Damian's terse responses. The atmosphere is focused, the earlier playful tension replaced by a shared sense of purpose. 

After an hour or so, you lean back, stretching your arms above your head. "I think that covers everything," you say, looking over the final slide.

Damian gives a final, scrutinizing look at the presentation before nodding in agreement. "It’s comprehensive," he admits, shutting the laptop. "We should be prepared for any questions they throw at us."

"Good," you reply, hopping off the table. "Now that the hard part's done, let's hope the presentation goes smoothly."

Damian closes your laptop and sets it aside. "It will. We've covered every angle. Even if they ask something unexpected, we can handle it."

You smile, appreciating his confidence. You stretch once more, your muscles appreciating the movement after sitting for so long. Titus wakes up from his nap, prancing over to you. You kneel and pet his face generously. He whines when you pull away to gather your stuff.

As you gather your things, you notice Damian watching you with an inscrutable expression. You can't quite read what's going on in his mind, but there's a sense of something unsaid lingering in the air.

“What is it?” you ask.

Damian hesitates, which he seems to do a lot around you. It’s strange to you how someone who appears so sure of himself, so absolute can do such a thing. “What are your plans for your future?”

You blink, taken aback. “Like… after high school?”

He nods, his gaze intense. "Yes. What do you see yourself doing?"

It's a question you haven't given much thought to, caught up as you are in the present challenges. You don’t really want to give it much thought. Being here long enough to go to college makes your stomach turn. You can’t pretend like you have been miserable all this time. You’ve made friends, made a life here. But it’s not your life.

“I haven’t really thought about a college or anything. I know I want to help people,” you say, eyes trailing off. “What do you wanna do?”

Damian’s expression softens. “I want to continue my fathers legacy. Do everything to make the city safer, I suppose. However, I would also like to explore my own interests.”

“I look forward to seeing your art in a museum, Damian,” you declare, facing him.

There's a moment of shared understanding between you, a recognition of the complexities that lie beneath the surface. It's a comforting feeling, knowing that despite your differences, you share a common drive to carve out your own paths.

A polite knock echoes against the door before it opens. Dick pokes his head out with a smile on his face. “Hey, you two. Hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

You shake your head. “Nah, we just finished.” You shoulder your bag over your shoulder. “I was actually about to head out.”

Dick perks up. “Actually, Alfred wanted to know if you would like to stay for dinner.”

Behind you, Damian freezes and narrows his eyes. “As [Name] was just saying, they were leaving–”

“–Actually I think I will stay for dinner,” you grin at Damian. Only a fool would skip out on a chance to taste Alfred Pennyworth’s cooking. Any pokes and prods about your identity you’ll meet head on, and any chance to embarrass Damian is a good chance.

Dick matches your grin, nodding. “I’ll let him know.” He disappears, closing the door and leaving you two alone

Damian scowls. “Whatever you are planning–”

“I have no wrong intentions whatsoever Damian,” you furrow your brows and place a hand on your chest in mock offense. “I’m offended you think so low of me.”

Damian's scowl deepens, clearly not amused by your teasing. "You always have some ulterior motive," he accuses, crossing his arms.

You step closer, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. "Maybe I just want to enjoy a nice dinner with your family. Is that such a crime?"

He narrows his eyes suspiciously. "Fine. But don't think I won't be watching you."

You smirk playfully. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

With that settled, you follow Damian out of the room and into the sprawling manor once more. The atmosphere shifts slightly as you join Damian and Titus, walking through the grand halls towards the dining room. You can't help but feel a mixture of excitement and curiosity about what dinner with the Wayne family will entail.

When you step into the room your senses immediately buzz with anticipation, jittering around your skull. Just about every single member of the Batfamily is present. Even goddamn Jason Todd is here, helping Alfred set the table. It boosts your ego a little bit. Bruce Wayne greets you as you enter.

“I’m glad we can have you over,” he smiles. “Damian doesn’t have many friends to bring over.”

You snort at Damian’s grunt. You decide not to push Damian's buttons further in front of his family. For now. "Thank you for having me, Mr. Wayne," you reply politely.

Bruce nods back, his smile warm and welcoming. "Please, call me Bruce. Make yourself at home."

You take your seat at the large table, Damian at one side and Dick at the other. Everyone else settles in as well. Alfred serves the meal, a fancy foreign meal you don’t understand the name of. Damian, of course, gets a vegetarian portion of it.

Jason speaks up first. “You gonna introduce us or what?” He asks Damian. He looks about a second way from pulling out a hidden knife from somewhere, so Dick jumps in to save the day.

“This is [Name], they’re Damian’s classmate and…” he pauses for dramatic effect, “...friend!”

The table erupts in chuckles at Dick's teasing, though Damian remains stoic and unamused. You take the opportunity to greet everyone with a friendly smile and a wave.

"It's nice to meet all of you," you say, trying to match their warm reception despite Damian's icy demeanor.

Tim, who's been quietly observing the interaction, finally speaks up. "So, [Name], Damian's told us a bit about you. How's school been treating you?"

You take a moment to collect your thoughts. "It's been... interesting," you reply diplomatically, trying not to reveal too much. "I’m used to online so it’s definitely an experience."

“[Name] takes a ballet class. They are also the lead in the upcoming winter performance,” Damian pipes up, no doubt trying to put you on the spot. Asshole.

Stephanie grins. “No way! Cass does ballet too,” she claps a hand on Cass’s shoulder. Cass nods. She signs ‘what is your favorite move?’ . Barbara opens her mouth, prepared to translate what Cass said, but you beat her to the punch. You respond, fingers moving in practiced efficiency to gesture out your favorite move. Cass grins in approval.

“You know sign?” asks Duke.

“I know a lot of languages,” you smile. It’s true. Many of the Avengers know multiple languages, and they took to teaching you as much as they could. You even learned some Asgardian to impress Thor (he cried). Nat said it was a crucial skill to have.

“Like what?” asks Bruce, leaning in.

You look up as you think. “Russian, Italian, Spanish, some German, some Latin…” you trail off, “...etcetera. My dad has a lot of cool friends.”

A shared look of impressed spreads throughout the room.  Bruce hums, “and what about your father? What does he do?”

“He invents things. Right now he’s on vacation. Don’t remember where exactly he said, but he sends me money every now and again.”

Bruce gets a kind of sour look on his face before nodding. “Ah, sounds like quite the character,” Bruce responds with a nod, trying to maintain his composure. You sense there might be more to Bruce's reaction, perhaps his adoption senses are tingling (God forbid). The dinner conversation continues on lighter notes as everyone shares anecdotes and stories, keeping the atmosphere lively.

“Damian says you also like to invent and program things,” pipes up Dick.

“Yeah, I’m actually working on something right now. It’s pretty big, but hopefully it’s works,” you reply vaguely.

“Your father must be very proud of your accomplishments,” Bruce remarks, his tone measured. He gets a couple of side-eyes.

You nod. “Yeah, he always encourages me to pursue my interests. He’s pretty cool like that.”

Barbara chuckles, "It's always good to have interests outside of school. Keeps things exciting."

Tim nods in agreement, sipping his drink. “Yeah, I dabble in programming too. It’s a useful skill to have.”

After a while, Alfred brings out dessert - a decadent chocolate mousse that looks almost too good to eat. Everyone digs in eagerly, sharing their thoughts on the meal and enjoying the dessert in comfortable chatter.

Throughout the evening, you notice Bruce observing you with a mix of curiosity and concern, as if trying to gauge something beyond your words. His occasional glances toward Damian and Dick imply a silent conversation that you're not privy to, though you catch a few knowing looks exchanged between the brothers.

As the dinner winds down, Alfred discreetly clears away the dishes, signaling the end of the meal. You offer to help with the dishes, but Alfred kindly declines, insisting that you're a guest tonight.

Dick stretches contentedly, breaking the comfortable silence that has settled over the table. "Well, it's been great having you over, [Name]. Hope you enjoyed the meal."

"Yeah, thanks for letting me crash dinner," you reply warmly, smiling around the table. "It's been really nice."

Damian stands abruptly. “I believe [Name] should be heading home now,” he states, pointedly ignoring the snickers.

You nod, rising from your seat. "Right. Thanks again for having me, everyone."

“You’re more than welcome to stay the night, [Name],” smirks Tim. “We have plenty of room, though I’m sure Damian would be happy to–” Cass pinches Tim’s ear, interrupting his sentence.

You smile at their antics. “My cat is waiting for me, so I have to pass. I appreciate the offer, though.”

Bruce nods, his expression serious yet not unkind. "Anytime, [Name]. You're welcome here."

With a final round of goodbyes and well-wishes, you follow Damian out of the dining room. The atmosphere between you two is quieter now, the playful tension from earlier replaced by a sense of calm. "You enjoyed yourself tonight," Damian states, more a statement than a question.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, your family's pretty entertaining. I like their dynamic.”

There's a moment of silence as you both stand there, the air thick with unspoken thoughts and emotions. You take a step closer, closing the distance between you and Damian. His gaze meets yours, a mixture of intensity and vulnerability that surprises you.

"You know," you begin, your voice low, "I do really like teasing you, Damian. But I also... appreciate our time together." Your heart beats a little faster as you admit this, feeling vulnerable yet strangely liberated.

Damian's expression softens further, a rare vulnerability in his eyes as he looks at you. "I... feel the same," he confesses quietly, almost hesitantly.

Before either of you can say more, the door creaks open, and Dick pokes his head in with a cheeky grin. "Hey, you two. Hate to interrupt, but Alfred’s outside ready to take [Name] home."

Damian straightens abruptly, a hint of irritation flickering across his features. "We'll be there shortly," he replies tersely, clearly annoyed at the interruption.

Dick raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Sure thing. Don't keep Alfred waiting too long," he teases before closing the door.

You roll your eyes playfully at Dick's teasing as he disappears, leaving you and Damian alone once more. There's a brief moment where neither of you speaks, the tension palpable in the air. Finally, Damian breaks the silence.

"We should go," he says, his voice low but firm.

You nod in agreement, trying to dispel the awkwardness that has settled between you. "Right. Let's go."

Together, you and Damian make your way out towards the front door of Wayne Manor. The grandeur of the mansion surrounds you, yet it feels less intimidating now, having spent an evening with Damian's family. As you step outside into the cool night air, Alfred waits patiently by the car, ready to drive you home. Damian walks beside you, carrying your stuff, his demeanor slightly tense yet thoughtful.

As you approach the car, Damian walks up to Alfred and mutters to him. Alfred raises a prim brow, handing Damian the keys with a nod. He walks back towards the Manor, where you see the rest of the family either peeking out the door or straight up standing outside looking. You snort. Damian sets your stuff in the backseat, opening the passenger side door for you to enter. You hum in appreciation, sitting inside.

Bruce watches the car drive away, a pinch in his brow.

“I thought Damian liked Jon?” questions Duke.

“He does.” Barbara squints. Tim gestures to the leaving car. “Then what was that?” he asks. Cassandra hums. “He also likes them, he doesn’t know it yet. Or he is just in denial.”

“Well if Cass says it’s so, then it’s so,” nods Stephanie sagely. Alfred leans closer to Bruce. “They may become part of your brood yet.”

"Perhaps," Bruce murmurs quietly, more to himself than to anyone else. Duke leans in, intrigued. "You think they're good for Damian?"

Bruce considers his words carefully before responding. "I think [Name] challenges Damian in ways that are both positive and... complicated."

Inside the car, Damian focuses on the road ahead, his grip tight on the steering wheel. The drive is quiet. You watch as people go on with their lives. Very few people roam the streets at this hour. You steal glances at Damian occasionally, noting the tense set of his jaw and the focused look in his eyes.

As you approach your apartment building, Damian breaks the silence. "I apologize for my family's... curiosity," he says, his voice soft yet tinged with annoyance.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. "It's alright, Damian. They just want to get to know me better."

Damian parks the car and turns to face you, his expression unreadable. "They can be... overwhelming at times," he admits reluctantly.

"You're lucky to have them," you remark sincerely.

Damian steps out of the car, grabbing your bag and walking you to the front door. The air feels like a stark contrast to the warmth of Wayne Manor. Damian's gaze meets yours, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you. You lean in slightly, hesitating for a moment before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, just like last night. Damian freezes for an instant, different to his lack of reaction before.

"Goodnight, Damian," you murmur, pulling back slightly.

"Goodnight, [Name]," he replies softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

With a final smile, you close the door behind you. Damian stands there for a moment longer before driving away into the night. As you enter your apartment, you're greeted by the familiar sight of Nari lounging on the couch. Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

‘All of your materials have been delivered to the address.’ is what greets you when you open up Victoria’s chat. You grin, sending a thank you. Your bed feels like heaven as you sink into it. Tomorrow real progress will be made, and you can’t wait.

notes: reader and damian are practically dating already lets be honest they just dont know it yet

[midnightshindig]

I know you have a lot of requests so I feel bad about adding another request to the pile so feel free to ignore this if you're too busy but how about Cecil and delinquent!kid reader? (Like the kid is Cecil's kid). Like the kid gets into fights at school, skips class, spray paints buildings. Like classic teenage rebellion stuff.

Cecil is such a hardass I want him to him a delinquent kid. I'm leaning towards Cecil and the kid having a good/ok relationship and they're acting out to have fun but you take the request in whatever way you see fit! (If you don't want to do Cecil/don't know what to write about, how about Donald instead? Or anyone else you think would be funny to give a delinquent kid/little sibling.)

Cecil & Delinquent!Child!Reader

probably not going to do too many more of this genre of Cecil request, but I like the idea of a lovingly rebellious teenage child reader

hcs under the cut!

You and your dad had a pretty good relationship

Don't get me wrong

he's BUSY

but he shows up when it counts

You know a lot of the things your dad should be at, some GDA intern shows up to instead

but there's the intent, and they always come with a personalized message from Cecil.

He wasn't there to get photos of you in your prom outfit with your group/date, but he made sure there were plenty of photos being taken

All in all, things weren't bad, you had dinner whenever he could spare an hour or so, and sometimes, in the super chill months, Cecil would even take you to things like the movies

and you'd always been a good kid

A/B student, a "pleasure to have in class", a bit of a backtalker but it came from a place of curiosity and a natural born sense of leadership

if the worst he got from you was the occasional sass when you asked a teacher why you had to ask to use the restroom, that was alright with him

What WASN'T alright with him, was the first day of your junior year of high school

he'd been called to the office and assured this wasn't something that could happen over the phone

Not even the GDA can sway the power a public school front office lady possesses.

So there he is, in some public high school's principals office, with his crisp grey suit crunching into the plastic of the underfunded office chair he sat on

"Mr. Stedman, your child was... distracting in class today, to say the least. A blatant violation of the dress code-"

Cecil cut him off, a sharp bitterness in his voice "You called me here because my child was wearing the wrong clothes? Really?"

The principal coughed "Well- Y/n responded to their disciplinary waring with extreme hostility, calling the teacher an-" he checked the papers in front of him before cautiously reciting "'ornery fucking prude' were their exact words."

Cecil's eye twitched "Where are they, then? What was so bad that they had to be disciplined in the first place?" his waning patience was obvious.

The principal responded by using his telephone to call the front office "Send Y/n Stedman in."

You were wearing a tanktop. Not a low cut or particularly inappropriate tank top, mind you, a regular cut two-finger strapped tank top. God. Forbid.

Cecil was furious with your Principal and took you home immediately

"What a prude-" Cecil stated decidedly, ranting about the insanity of it on the car ride home.

You just had poor administration.

Or so he thought

Two months later Cecil got reports that you were being driven home in a cop car

He supposed he couldn't really be surprised, after all, in the last two months you'd already exceeded the normal limit on missed days, Cecil having to pull the government card to keep you enrolled

He teleported home right as the cop knocked on the door

"Hello officer, how can I help you?" he levelled a glare at you: what have you been getting into?

Your eyes responded with a roll: nothing, get off my back

the officer was blissfully unaware "Uh, sir, we caught your kid here spray painting the CVS down on Dupont Circle.

"....spray painting?" Cecil's tone was genuinely confused

of all the things?

"Yes sir, spray painting. Nothing obscene, seems just like tagging, but criminal nonetheless." The cop gently released his grip on your arm, allowing you to step inside your home "The manager of the building has decided not to press charges, but they are expected to clean the building. Please get in contact at your earliest convenience."

With a tip of his hat, the cop left

leaving Cecil with his newly convicted child

"Really, Y/n? Petty vandalism?"

You scoffed "Dad, it was just art! I wasn't doing anything wrong, this whole city is covered in graffiti-"

He groaned "It isn't just the 'art'-" he mocked you with finger quotations "It's the skipping, the blatant disrespect to your teachers, god... Y/n next thing you know I'm going to find you in cahoots with the Mauler Twins on national television!"

You folded your arms, lowering a glare at him "That's low, even for me."

"Ugh-" Cecil flopped defeatedly into the dining room chair across from you "Why are you doing this?" his frustration broke into defeat "What's going on, kiddo?"

Your eyes warbled back and forth as you stared at him for what felt like forever

before you let out probably the biggest, most pent up sigh of your life

and you laid your head on the table unceremoniously

"I don't know, Dad. It's not like I'm trying to get into trouble." You looked askance, your face pressed into the hardwood of the table

"I just want to have some fun, wear what I want, and be a normal teenager that does normal teen rebellion stuff."

Cecil could empathize with this, but conversely:

"And normal teenagers get in trouble when they do normal teenager stuff, Y/n. Like right now." He gapped the distance between the two of you, resting a fatherly hand on your shoulder

"I love you, kiddo, and getting in trouble for breaking some flimsy dress code is one thing, but you gotta keep it within the law. I can't protect you when you do dumb stuff like this."

"I know..." you mumbled, not wanting to meet his eyes

Cecil sat next to you, pulling his chair over "Look, you and me are gonna disagree on a lot. and that's fine, we don't have to agree on dating or clothes or anything. But on stuff like this, you have to trust me. You're my child and I want you to have fun in high school, but I also want you to graduate and get OUT of high school."

his words broke through to you a little, and the guilt of being sent home by the cops crept up through your spine, spreading through your nerves until you felt nauseous

"I'm sorry, Dad....."

Cecil's expression softened, his eyebrows raising and his eyes widening "It's okay, kiddo. Just do your best, that's all I ask of you."

He pulled you into a brief hug, before letting you go

You returned the gesture by pulling him into a tighter hug, your arms wrapped around his waist

[numberoneredriotfan]

Rodydeku headcanons part 1 :)

I'm going insane over these two hggggg-

(this screenshot from the movie makes me cackle everytime-)

• Rody fell first, no questions asked. Deku fell a bit later when he actually had the time to consider his feelings when he WASN'T fighting villains and dealing with vestiges every three seconds.

• Before they parted after the humarise crisis, they exchanged numbers so they could still talk. And, I kid you not, as soon as Deku got home he called Rody immediately. Rody played it cool like-- "damn, miss me already hero??" As if he hadn't been staring at Deku's contact for the past ten minutes wanting to call him but not wanting to seem like he missed him or anything (he really, really missed him).

• From then on, they pretty much call each other every other night when they're free, giving each other general updates (or just to hear each other's voice) (Rody's like kicking his feet and twirling his hair during these calls-)

• Rody's contact for Deku is "mass murderer (heart emoji)" the heart emoji was added a little later on when Rody worked up the balls. Deku's contact name for Rody isn't anything special, just his name with a little ":)" on the side.

• Rody's crush is soooo bad. He definitely keeps up with anything hero-related on the news just so he can talk about it with Deku during their next call.

• I think Rody's voice helps Deku relax a lot, even if he doesn't realize why (keep this in mind, it'll come into play later).

• Rody thinks about the time when Deku spiderman-ed him around Otheon. A lot.

• Deku told everyone is class 1-A about Rody, more than he talked about the actual humarise crisis.

• During Rody's visit to Japan (in the spin off "team up missions" manga), I like to think he started developing a bit of an inferiority complex to Deku's friends.

• Like, who was he to Deku compared to all these friends that had been through so much together?? Compared to them, he was literally just some guy he saved the world with once.

• It didn't help hearing all the stories about Deku solving villain crisis after villain crisis with said friends.

• Of course Deku didn't think that way, and considered Rody a friend just like he considered everyone in class A a friend (with something a little extra there but he hasn't realized that yet).

• Deku once sent a picture of him and Eri during a little playdate to Rody the backflip his heart did when he learned that Deku was good with kids-

• Also, seeing Deku get along and be sweet with his siblings almost killed him.

• Sometimes, Pino will steal Rody's phone and send a random cluster of emojis with ninety percent of them being hearts. Deku was a little confused when this first happened, but after Rody (frantically) explained it was Pino, whenever it happens Deku just goes "hi pino!"

• Deku grows to be able to read Rody pretty well, even when he hides Pino from him. Although, having a friend with a built-in lie detector is pretty convenient.

• "Have you been missing me at all??" "Pssh, nah, you cause way too much trouble for me-" *distressed chirping in the background* "PINO." "I miss you too Rody :)"

• Rody pokes fun at Deku for the mass murderer incident all the damn time. "I don't know man, do I really wanna hang out with a mass murderer??" "Oh no, please don't hurt me mister mass murderer."

• Deku going on hero rants and Rody going on plane rants and both of them listening to each other with full attention :( <3

• Okay let's get into the more angsty stuff.

• After the war, and after all the villains escaped tarturus, and planes stopped getting to Japan and stuff, Rody was kinda worried (he was VERY worried).

• He was at work when all the commotion was on the news, and he completely froze when they mentioned UA high school. As soon as he got home, he tried to call Deku to make sure he was okay, but he got no answer. Because by then, Deku had already left UA high.

• Deku didn't want Rody to worry about him, so he pretty much ignored all his calls (feeling incredibly guilty as he did so) (also for the sake of it let's pretend he still had his phone).

• Rody tried so many times to call him, wanting to pull his hair out every time he was sent to voicemail. He was losing sleep just worrying about him, and Rody's siblings noticed. They tried a lot to try and get Rody to cheer up, which he did appreciate despite still being worried.

• He wasn't picking up his phone, and leaving a text just wasn't enough. So, eventually, he decided to leave a bunch of voice messages, as some way to make himself feel better.

• They started off with him trying not to sound too worried:

• "Hey, Deku! It's been a little while since I've heard from you. I know you're probably busy with everything happening in Japan right now. Call me back when you get the chance."

"The past few weeks at work have been exhausting. People are acting like the world's gonna end, but I'm sure things'll be alright. That's why we have heroes like you, right?"

"I was able to take Roro and Lala out yesterday, I sent you the pictures. Did you know Roro grew a whole inch?? Soon he's gonna be as tall as me!"

• Until they eventually grew more and more concerned and desperate:

• "Hey, I saw the news this morning. Japan is in really bad shape right now. Is everyone in UA alright??"

"You are getting these, right? If you have, please at least send me a message saying something. Roro and Lala have been worried, you know."

"Deku, I know things have probably been rough for you over there. For you and everyone else. I know I don't know you as well as your friends at UA, and I know that in the end I can't understand what's happening over there. But whatever you're dealing with right now, I'm willing to listen. So...please. If you're getting these- if you're even alive- just let me know. I'm worried, okay...?"

• At some point, Rody gave up on trying, only hoping that somehow Deku was okay, and that maybe he just wasn't getting his messages.

• But Deku was. And he listened to every single one, resisting to the urge to send him something, or call him. But he told himself it'd cause Rody more trouble if he responded, so instead, he just listened to each voicemail over and over, finding comfort in Rody's voice (he also looked at pictures of him with his friends for comfort as well but this isn't about them/j).

• After class A dragged Deku back to UA by the ear, once he was finally able to rest, he couldn't help but think about Rody and finally responding to him, but he wasn't sure what he would say, and he had a bunch of other things to worry about at the moment, so it slipped his mind.

• But eventually, as Rody was laying in bed thinking about Deku (as he had been doing for the past few weeks), he decided to try calling him again cause god damn it why not. He wasn't expecting a response, but at least he could say he tried.

• And to his surprise, Deku answered.

• At first, Rody just kinda sat there in shock, trying to process the sound of Deku's voice. And finally, weeks worth of emotions came spilling out and he just started ugly sobbing while yelling at him and questioning where he's been. Deku tried to calm him down a little, which only made Rody even more upset because how DARE you tell him to calm after you up and disappear for weeks without any sort of communication!!

• Knowing Rody's anger was justified, Deku told him he'd explain everything. And he did.

• He spent the next hour explaining everything that had happened to Rody. From the very beginning. How he was originally quirkless, how he got one for all, one for all's vestiges, the league of villains, All for one, Shigaraki. He explained everything, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders as he did so. Rody, though confused and confounded, listened intently.

• Once he was finished, Deku apologized profoundly for not telling Rody any of this, and how he just didn't want him to be put in danger. That's when Rody realized just how big the burden Deku had been carrying all this time, all by himself, truly was.

• "You've already put me in danger once before, hero." Rody said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. Deku let out an weak, involuntary laugh. "You didn't have to hide this from me...you listened to all voice messages right? I meant it when I said I was willing to listen. You really don't have to carry that all by yourself..."

• Deku really couldn't help but sob once again at the support he got from one of his dear friends. And hearing Deku cry, Rody said he was a crybaby while also starting to cry as well.

• Just like that one time, both of them started to laugh together while still crying.

I love them so much :(

[joedirtymadre]

The Cake

MASH X READER (Taking requests 📲 pls send some!) **SMUT

“Come on, spit it (Y/N)!” Lemon groaned as she shook me. “Spit what out Lemon?” I asked, while continuing to be shaken up. “Have you and Mashle… done anything intimate yet?” She whispered the last part. “Did you forget that I’m right here?” Finn sweat dropped. “No, but I mean you’re one of the girls, Finn. Plus it’s either this conversation or the guy’s one where Lance and Dot argued over the cutest girl, and Lance’s only option is his sister,” Lemon explained. Finn and I sighed, she’s got a point. “But still Lemon… that’s a little too private to talk about…” I blushed. “So you have done it!” Lemon screeched. “How was it? Was it nice or was it bad? I heard if I guy is a good bowler then you know… and Mash is… well he’s just strong so he can take down all the pins,” Lemon said. “And the alley,” Finn added. “Nevermind that! Details, (Y/N)! Was it romantic? Freaky?” She asked. “No… well none of that because we haven’t done anything,” I said softly. “Oh…” Lemon said. “Yeah, well I don’t know Mash has never seemed too interested in that kind of stuff, I don’t know,” I shrugged. “What do you mean, have you tried hinting at it?” Finn asked. “Sort of? One night we watched a movie in my dorm and a… scene came on! I thought it would spark the mood a bit so I scooted closer to Mash and I decided to… place my hand on his thigh,” I blushed, covering my face from Lemon’s sly smile. “You go girl, show him who’s boss!” She laughed. “But… he then asked if I thought the muscle was softer than usual. I guess he noticed a difference between the two and my hand placement confirmed his suspicions,” I sighed. “Jeez,” Finn winced at the comment. “I mean we all knew Mash was dense but I didn’t think it was that bad,” Lemon frowned. “So maybe it’s for the best that we just hold off,” I smiled. “Have you thought of talking to him? I mean Mash probably wants to do stuff like that too, but since you never brought it up he doesn’t see the reason to either,” Finn said. “You’re probably right Finn, but… it’s embarrassing… We’ve been together for almost a year and I’ve given a couple of hints already. I was hoping he would’ve caught on by now,” I sighed. “Well why don’t you give him a love potion? It’ll probably boost his spirits, if you know what I mean,” Lemon whispered. “I don’t think drugging my boyfriend without his consent is really the best idea!” I shouted. “Kidding!” Lemon smiled. “I don’t think she was…” Finn sighed. “I’ll just keep things the way they are. Plus he has to catch on one day right?” I asked them, both of them shrugging at the question. “Oh I have to go to the library! I told a friend I would help her with her project!” Lemon shouted and ran off. “Bye!” She yelled and we waved back. “I should probably get going too, we left the group in my room… I just hope they didn’t break anything…” Finn cried and walked off. “See ya (Y/N),” he moped. “Bye,” I laughed and headed back to my dorm.

I laid on the bed thinking about the conversation with Lemon and Finn. “It’s almost been a year… and I think I’m ready, but maybe Mash isn’t…” I sighed. “Oh well,” I shrugged. I can’t be upset that he’s not comfortable with engaging with any of the hints I’ve given him. “Why don’t you give him a love potion?” Lemon’s words are repeated in my head. I quickly shake my head. No. No. No. That’s a crazy idea, plus super wrong. “I think I’ll just nap all this off, get my mind off all this stuff,” I sighed to myself and got ready for bed and quickly fell asleep.

I woke up later to a knock on my door and got up to answer it. I opened it and saw Mash on the other side holding a bag. “Hi Mash,” I said sleepily. “Were you sleeping?” He asked. “Yeah… I felt stressed so I thought I should just take a nap,” I explained and stepped aside to let him in. “Then Lemon was smart to give me these things,” he said as he walked in and dropped the stuff on my desk. “What did she give you?” I asked as I shut the door. “She gave me cake and tea,” he said. “Cake and tea…?” I thought suspiciously. She wouldn’t… “Can I just have a quick look?” I asked and snatched the cake box. “Uhh…” Mash mumbled. I opened the box and… it looks fine? Well the box is from a local café and it seems like an average cake made at the shop. “(Y/N)?” Mash asked, peering over my shoulder. “Haha, sorry. I just got so excited to see the cake,” I said awkwardly. “Ah… well there’s also some tea-“ he said and I swooshed over to the prepared tea and opened it. I mean it looks ok… or does it? Don’t all potions look like regular tea?? “Oh well… I think this is Jasmine tea… and I’m allergic to Jasmine tea!” I said and headed to toss it. “Oh, but I’m n- oh you tossed it…” Mash said disappointedly. “Sorry Mash,” I apologized. “It’s fine, you’re just having a stressful day,” he said and patted my head. “I just… I just had a weird conversation with Lemon earlier so I think I’m just being paranoid. Let’s just enjoy some cake,” I smiled. “Conversation? What was it about?” He asked. I blushed, “Nothing! It was girl stuff, don’t worry about it!” “Oh… well ok,” Mash shrugged.

We cut the cake and luckily I had some strawberry milk saved. “That was a good cake,” Mash said. “You only had a bite…” I sighed as we sat on my loveseat together. “Yeah, but I had a lot of cream puffs earlier, and I only worked out for 2 hours today. Don’t want to eat to pass my calorie intake,” he explained. “Just 2 hours?” I laughed. “Yeah, Lemon stopped me to tell me you were having an off day,” he said. “Ohh, well sorry for interrupting your workout, but thanks for coming over and the cake was delicious! I almost ate the whole thing,” I said and kissed his cheek. “It’s fine,” he smiled. I think I'm getting hot..? “Hey Mash, mind if I open a window? It’s getting hot in here,” I said and quickly opened my window to let in some fresh air. “It is?” Mash asked. “Yeah it’s super hot… and the fresh air isn’t helping!” I huffed and stuck my head out the window. “(Y/N) are you ok?” He asked and placed a hand on my lower back. I winced, his hand was hot to the touch. “Yeah, w-why do you ask?” I responded and looked back. “C-C-Cause it’s f-f-freezing in h-here,” he chattered from the cold. “O-Oh, I’m sorry!” I closed the window and sat back down. I felt my body beginning to feel like it’s on fire, but not sweaty but burning… “What’s wrong with me…?” I whispered. “Hey, it’ll be alright,” Mash said and pulled me into a hug. God the hug was burning me even more, but in a good way. I want more. “Mash, touch me more,” I said desperately. “(Y/N)?” Mash said, confused. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, my body's on fire. Even you touching me makes it burn more, but I want more…” I whispered before pulling him into a kiss. “Mash…” I gasped when we pulled away for air. “Y-Yeah?” He panted. “Why haven’t we ever done anything… more?” I asked, feeling my cheeks heat up even more. “M-More? I don’t know. You never asked or talked about it so I thought-“ I interrupted him. “I always gave away hints, it’s kind of embarrassing,” I laughed nervously. “You did?” He asked, shocked. I nodded shyly. “Well… then let’s try it,” he said and pulled me into a rough kiss. God my mind is going blank.

Mash carried me to my bed and laid me down softly. I watched as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off. Exposing his bare chest, and god-like body. “N-No compression shirt?” I blushed. “Not today,” he said and got on top of me, quickly pulling me in for another kiss. He pulled away and quickly went for my neck, licking, sucking, and nibbling every inch. “M-Mash,” I said, feeling dizzy. “Let’s take our time,” he whispered into my ear, causing goosebumps to crawl over me. All I could do was whimper in response. “I never knew you could make these kinds of noises,” he said against my skin. “Let me hear more,” he said in a demanding tone, and began biting my neck a bit harsher. “Mhm!” I let out. He finally pulled back and stared at me. I took the chance to try and catch my breath. “Sorry about this (Y/N)…” Mash said, and before I could ask he placed his hands on the buttons of my shirt and ripped them apart. Exposing my bra, “Mash!” I blushed, and tried to cover myself. Before I could Mash pinned my arms above my chest. “Don’t hide them, please,” he pleaded. “M-Mash…” I gasped and relaxed. “Good girl,” he said deeply, but keeping his hand pinned against mine. With his free hand he traced his thumb from my lips to the tip of my waistband. “W-Wait! I don’t want… to be the first one…” I bit my lip, too embarrassed to finish my sentence. “Don’t wanna be the first one naked? Alright then,” he said and slowly got off of me. I watched as he quickly removed his belt, allowing his pants to fall. Leaving him in only his boxer shorts, I gulped and wanted to follow his lead. I slowly grabbed the hem of my skirt and slipped it down, Mash helping me throw them off. Now we were both left in nothing but our underwear. “You’re so sexy,” he said as he pounced on me again. I moaned and gasped at each nip or kiss he would leave, my body still feeling like it’s on fire. “M-Mash, stop teasing me,” I said desperately. “Someone’s impatient,” he chuckled. “But that’s fine, I don’t think I can hold off any longer either,” he said as he placed my hand over his bulge. I blushed and pulled him in for another kiss, I felt bad that he was the only one taking the initiative. “Lay back,” I said. He nodded and sat back and I slowly got on his lap, he placed his rough hands on my hips. I began to reach for my bra and removed it slowly, I finally unclasped it, letting my breasts fall. I watched as Mash stared at my body, letting his eyes roam over every inch. “Do they look n-nice?” I said awkwardly. “They’re perfect,” he said as he cupped one of them with his right hand, surprising me.

Before fully reacting he pushed me down, “Ma- Ah!” I moaned, feeling his mouth swallow my breast. I grasped onto his hair tightly, and covered my mouth with my other hand, not wanting my neighbors to hear us. As soon as I muffled myself, Mash looked up looking disappointed. He pinned my arms again with one of his hands, “Don’t do that again,” he demanded. I blushed and nodded shyly. “Good,” he said. “Mash, I think I wanna do-“ before I could my sentence Mash ripped my underwear off. “H-ahhh?” I laid there in shock. “Me too,” he said and pulled down his shorts. I looked up and saw his cock ready to go. “A-Ah,” I let out. “Let me prepare you,” he said. I nodded and spread my legs a little wider. I gasped when I felt a finger slide inside me, “Mm!” I gasped. Then another. “Ahmm!” I moaned, quickly biting my lip trying to muffle myself. “It’s so hot and wet,” he said, huskily. I looked up and saw his eyes staring down at me, hungrily. “I’m gonna move now ok?” He asked. I nodded, and felt Mash slowly insert his fingers in and out. Oh god I’m gonna go crazy, he’s going so slow! I began moving my hips slightly, trying to increase the speed. “Too slow for you?” He chuckled, as his eyes glowed in amusement. I suddenly felt the increased speed, “Ahh~! Mashh~!!” I cried out. “Is this better now?” He asked and continued using his two fingers to thrust and occasionally widen my pussy. After what felt like an eternity I was done! “Mash!” I huffed. “What’s wrong (Y/N)?” He smiled slyly. “I’m ready now, please?” I pleaded. “Please what?” He asked as he slowly removed his fingers, causing me to whimper to the sudden loss. “P-Please?” I repeated. “Come on say,” he said as I felt something hard begin to rub my lips. Oh god this man is making me crazy. “Just fuck me already!” I practically shouted. “Whatever you say, princess,” he smirked and thrusted himself deep inside. I quickly felt full and needed a minute to catch my breath. “H-Hold on…” I gasped. “Tell me when you’re ready,” he said softly and dropped down to kiss me softly. After another minute or two, I nodded and allowed Mash to start moving. He went slow at first, but after a few minutes he quickly began thrusting faster and harder. “Ma-aash…” I drooled as I gasped with each breath. “Fuck (Y/N)… you’re pussy feels so good,” he grunted and let go of my pinned hands. “MmMM!” I moaned in response. I quickly arched my back, feeling an overload of ecstasy as I felt a thumb brush over my clit. “I really liked that reaction,” Mash panted and continued to rub my clit at an intense speed. “W-WaiT!” I cried, feeling a knot in my lower stomach grow bigger and bigger. “I think I’m- maSH!” I let out and threw my head back as I felt a wave of pleasure rush through my body, but I quickly threw it back up as I realized Mash wasn’t stopping. “Ma- Sensit…ive!” I moaned and grilled onto his shoulder tightly. “I wish I could, but someone’s pussy won’t let go of me,” he smirked and continued thrusting me at the same pace and began rubbing my clit again. I quickly placed both hands over my mouth and again Mash quickly pinned them above my head. “Nice try,” he grunted. “Ah! Mm! Mash~!” I moaned, filling my room with the sounds of my moans and Mash thrusting in and out of my pussy. “Fuck… I’m close,” he said in ear. “Cum! Cum!” I begged him. “Not before you do, one more time,” he whispered in my ear. He unpinned me and returned his hand to my clit, playing with it again, bringing me closer and closer. “Mash… I’m-“ I choked and threw my arms around him. “Me too,” he grunted, thrusting deeper each time. “Mashhh!” I cried and dug my nails into his skin, once again my body flowing with ecstasy. “(Y/N)…!” He moaned with one final thrust, filling me before pulling himself out and falling next to me. We both took our time trying to catch our breaths and Mash soon pulled me in for some cuddles. “That was nice…” he said sleepily, before I heard some light snoring. I giggled and snuggled into his arms before falling asleep as well. Before I forget… make a mental note to thank and also kill Lemon tomorrow.

The Next Day

“You guys did it? Well… you did skip classes today, so it all makes sense now,” Lemon laughed. “Yeah, the cake sort of did the trick,” I blushed. “Cake?” Lemon asked, confused. “Yeah the cake and tea you gave Mash because I wasn’t feeling too good. You put a love potion in it didn’t you? Well… it’s fine cause I’m the one that ate it so I’ll forgive you this time-“ I was quickly interrupted. “(Y/N) what are you talking about? I bought that cake at the café we always go to. I went with my friend after we finished the project. I remembered you said you wanted to try the red velvet,” she said. “H-Huh?” I blinked. “Y-You thought I put a love potion in it!?” Lemon laughed. “Y-You didn’t?” I blinked again. “Girl… you must’ve had a placebo effect or something…” Lemon said. “Oh…” I said, speechless.

[bat-mom-writer]

Bat Baby: Part 3

Reader(pregnant wife) X Bruce Wayne(husband)

Note: this is a longer one, but thank god we have 'read more'. ;)

Summery: You're water broke. But the first you think is to NOT tell your other sons, because the time you told them you were pregnant, they panicked! So now you and Bruce sneak out and rush to the hospital.

(I do not own any DC charaters)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

"Bruce."

The voice was faint, a mere murmur that pierced the quiet of the moonlit garden. Her hand trembled as it reached out to gently shake the man lying beside her.

"Bruce," she whispered urgently, her heart racing.

He stirred, his eyes slowly opening to meet hers. "Mmm? What is it?" he mumbled, the sleep still clinging to his voice.

"My water just broke," she said, her voice shaking more than she would have liked.

Bruce bolted upright, instantly alert. "Now?" he exclaimed, his sleepiness vanishing like mist in the morning sun.

“Shh!” Her pointer finger lands on her lips, “Not so loud. I don’t want to alarm the boys.”

Bruce frowned, concern etching lines on his face. "Why? It's their brother or sister on the way."

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts. "You remember when we told them I was pregnant?" she began, her voice low.

"Of course," Bruce replied, his hand moving to cover hers. "They were overjoyed. Overwhelmed, but so happy."

"They panicked!" Her voice grew a tad louder, and she quickly covered her mouth with her hand. "I can't deal with that right now," she continued, her eyes wide with fear. "You know how overprotective they are. They'll go into superhero mode, and the chaos will be unbearable. Please," she begged, "let's tell them after the baby is born."

Bruce nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Alright," he said, his voice calm. "We'll handle this ourselves." He gently helped her feet.

"Okay, go get dressed," he instructed, his voice a soothing balm. "I’ll get our stuff.”

She nodded, her mind racing. She didn't want the baby's arrival to turn into a circus, not with the three of them - Dick, Jason, and Tim - turning the manor upside down.

"Where's the hospital bag?" Bruce asked, his voice tight.

She paused, her hand hovering over her round belly. "It's by the front door," she said, her voice a barely audible whisper. "But if we go out the front door, they'll see us!" she exclaimed in a hushed tone.

"Okay, that's fine," he said, his voice firm. He thinks for a moment, "We'll send Alfred to bring them when we arrive at the hospital."

Shenodded, gritting her teeth as another contraction began to build. She took a deep breath and held it in, trying to keep the pain from spilling out into the quiet night.

Bruce looked around the room, his gaze finally landing on the intercom system. "Alfred," he called into it, "could you come to the master bedroom, please?"

There was a moment of silence, and then the sound of footsteps echoed through the house. The door opened, and instead of Alfred's calm, collected face, it was Dick who walked in, "Is everything okay?" he asked, taking in the scene.

"Dick!" she gasped, her eyes wide. "We're fine," she managed to say, her breath hitching as another contraction started.

Dick looked from her to Bruce, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "What's going on?"

"She just had a… a craving," Bruce said smoothly, improvising. "It's nothing to worry about. Could you go get her some ice cream?"

Dick's brow furrowed, but he nodded. "Sure," he said, turning to leave. "What kind?"

She blurted out, "Chocolate, the mint kind," hoping to buy them some time.

"Chocolate mint it is," Dick said, the tension in his voice palpable. "I believe we are out, so I'll have to go to the store real quick." he added, his eyes flickering between her and Bruce.

She nodded, her smile forced but earnest. "Thank you," she said, trying to keep her voice steady as another wave of pain washed over her. She watched him disappear into the hallway before turning to Bruce with a look of panic.

"They're everywhere," she hissed. "How are we going to sneak out?"

Bruce's gaze darted around the room, his mind racing. "We'll have to make it up as we go along," he murmured. He helped her into the bathroom and closed the door behind them. "Get dressed," he said, his voice low.

With swift, silent movements, Bruce grabbed a small bag from the closet and began to fill it with essentials: a change of clothes, her phone, and some toiletries.

The boys would be suspicious if they saw them disappear into the night without notice, so he had to be quick and precise. He tossed in a pair of comfortable shoes, her favorite blanket, and a few snacks she had been craving lately.

In the bathroom, she changed into a loose dress, the soft fabric caressing her skin as she tried to ignore the growing tightness in her belly. She looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes lingering on her reflection. Her hair was a mess of tangles from the night's rest, and her eyes were lined with shadows of fear and pain. But she knew that soon, she would be holding their child in her arms, and that thought gave her strength.

Leaning heavily on the counter, she took deep, slow breaths as the contractions grew stronger. She watched as her belly tightened, the baby moving restlessly inside her. The marble counter was cool against her palms, a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from her body. She focused on Bruce's instructions, counting each contraction under her breath.

Bruce emerged from the closet, the bag in his hand. He approached her, his eyes full of reassurance. "Ready?" he asked, his voice a gentle rumble.

She nodded, biting her lower lip to keep the whimper from escaping.

Bruce took her hand firmly in his, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a comforting gesture. "We're going to do this," he murmured, his eyes holding hers. "We're going to get to the hospital and have our baby without the boys turning the whole thing into a superhero operation."

With a nod, she allowed him to guide her out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. The contractions were getting closer together now, and she had to lean on Bruce to stay upright. "I'll drive," he said, his voice low and calm. "You just focus on breathing."

They made their way downstairs, each step an eternity for her. She gripped Bruce's arm, the pain in her abdomen growing more intense with every passing moment. The house was eerily silent, the only sounds the echoes of their footsteps and her soft gasps for air. The darkness of the manor seemed to close in around them, a stark contrast to the brightness of the night outside.

As they approached the living room, Bruce's grip tightened. She knew the layout of the house like the back of her hand, but the fear of being caught was a new and disconcerting sensation. They paused at the edge of the doorway, the soft glow of the television flickering across the room.

Tim and Jason sat on the couch, their eyes glued to the screen, with their backs turned. They were both dressed in their pajamas, a rare sight for the two young men who often patrolled the city as Robin and Red Hood.

"You get to the back door, I'll distract them," Bruce whispered, his voice a comforting rumble in her ear.

Her eyes searched his, finding the determination and love she needed. Bruce stepped into the living room, his eyes locking onto Tim and Jason as he steps before them, grabbing their attention. "Jason, Tim," he said casually, his tone a masterful blend of calm and authority.

With one final nod, she took a deep breath and made a break for it. The floorboards creaked beneath her feet as she hurried down the hallway, each step a silent prayer that she wouldn't be heard.

She quickly goes, her heart hammering against her ribs like a caged bird desperate for freedom. Her feet whisper against the cold marble floor, each step a silent dance of pain and urgency. The contractions are getting closer, a relentless rhythm that demands her full attention. The air in the hallway feels thick and heavy, as if it's trying to hold her back, to keep her from her destination.

Leaning heavily against the wall, she gasps for breath, her hand splayed out over the smooth surface. It's cool against her flushed skin, a tiny bastion of relief in the storm of sensations. The wallpaper's delicate pattern blurs as she squeezes her eyes shut, focusing on the simple mantra that Bruce had taught her during their prenatal classes: inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth.

As the contraction subsides, She opens her eyes to find herself staring into the piercing gaze of Damian Wayne. He's standing a few feet away, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Where are you going?" he asks, his voice a sharp demand.

Her heart skips a beat. "Just… to get some air," she lies, her voice strained. "I'll be right back."

Damian's eyes narrow, the shadows playing across his face as he assesses her. He's too smart to be fooled so easily, and she can see the cogs turning in his mind. "You're in pain," he states, his voice softer than she's ever heard it.

"It's nothing," she insists, trying to smile, but her face feels tight, the muscles refusing to cooperate. "Just… a cramp."

Damian doesn't budge. "You're lying," he says, his tone unyielding. "Your water broke, didn't it?"

She eyes widen, and she opens her mouth to protest, but no words come out. She's caught.

"Damian, please," she whispers, her hand moving to her belly. "You can't tell them. If they know, they'll panic, and then I'll panic, and that's the last thing I need right now. Please."

Damian's expression softens, and for a moment, the hardened exterior of the young boy who had seen too much of Gotham's darkness cracks to reveal the concerned child beneath. "I won't say anything," he promises, his voice low. "Let’s get you to the car."

Her eyes fill with tears of gratitude as she nods, leaning heavily on the youngest Wayne as he leads her to the back door. The night air is cool and damp, a stark contrast to the warmth of the manor, but it feels like a breath of fresh air after being trapped in the oppressive silence of her impending labor.

The car, Bruce's sleek black, sits waiting in the shadow of the garage. Damian opens the door with a quiet click, and she slides into the passenger seat, her movements slow and deliberate as the contractions continue to build. He carefully fastens her seatbelt, his movements gentle and surprisingly tender.

"Thank you," she whispers, her eyes closing as she leans back into the leather seat. The pain is more intense now, each contraction a crescendo that seems to shake her very soul.

"Damian, what are you doing out here?"

Dick's voice sliced through the night, and her eyes shot open. She hadn't even heard his approach, so focused was she on the growing discomfort in her belly. The mint chocolate chip ice cream he held was a stark reminder of the ruse they had concocted to keep their secret.

Damian ever so calmly closed the car door and strode over to Dick, his movements fluid and silent as a cat. "I wanted to check the car," he called out, his voice steady despite the turmoil he had just witnessed. "Make sure it had enough gas for when mother suddenly goes into labor."

He couldn't see the panic in her eyes through the tinted windows, the contractions grew more intense, each one stealing her breath and tightening her grip on the seat. She watched as Dick, his eyes searching the night as if he could sense the urgency in the very air. "Sudden labor? What makes you think she'll just sudden be ready to drop?"

Damian's eyes flicked over to the passager side, for a brief moment, a silent promise of solidarity. "Just a feeling," he replied, his voice a practiced lie. "You know how unpredictable it can be."

Dick frowned, his gaze lingering on his younger brother before turning back to the house. "I'll be right back," he called out, his footsteps retreating into the manor. She watched him go, her chest heaving with each labored breath.

Damian wasted no time. He quickly opened the garage door, the sound of the electric motor a jarring intrusion in the quiet night. The moon cast a silver glow across the gleaming bonnet of the car, the light reflecting off the chrome in a ghostly dance. She felt a fresh wave of contractions, gripping the armrest with white knuckles as she fought the urge to scream.

Damaian rushed back to the passenger side and opened her door, his eyes searching hers with a rare concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tight with worry.

"I'm fine," she managed to gasp, panting heavily. "Where's Bruce? We need to go. Now."

Damian nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "I'll go get him," he said, his voice firm. "You stay here."

Before he could move, however, Bruce's footsteps echoed through the garage, his shadow stretching across the floor. "I'm here," he said, his voice calm and steady. "I had to give Dick an excuse. Damian, what are you doing here?"

Her hand tightened on the armrest as another contraction hit, stealing her breath. "Bruce!" she managed to choke out. "We have to go!"

"Shit, coming," he murmured under his breath, a hint of panic in his voice. He quickly jogs to the driver seat. "Damian, tell Alfred to meet us at the hospital with our hospital bag," he instructed, his voice low but firm. "And don't let the boys come until we give the okay, alright?"

Damian nodded, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "Understood," he said, his voice calm and composed.

Bruce quickly started the engine, the low purr of the powerful machine a comforting sound in the tense silence. Her gripped the door handle, her knuckles white as another contraction hit her like a freight train. "Bruce!" she moaned painfully, her eyes squeezed shut.

He glanced over at her, his jaw set in determination. "Hold on," he murmured, shifting the car into gear. The tires squealed softly as they pulled out of the garage, the night swallowing them up as they sped towards the hospital.

The car's headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the twisting road ahead. Her eyes remained shut, her breathing ragged and shallow as she tried to manage the pain. Each contraction was more intense than the last, her body a symphony of agony and anticipation. Bruce's hand found hers, his grip firm and reassuring as he navigated the familiar path to the hospital.

"You're doing great," he murmured, his eyes never leaving the road. "Just keep breathing."

She nodded, her eyes squeezed shut. The pain was unbearable now, a relentless wave that crashed over her again and again. Bruce's hand was the only anchor in the storm, a warm, steady presence that kept her from being swept away.

"Fucking hell!" she groaned, the words ripping from her chest as the contraction peaked. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her body taut as a bowstring. She felt as though she was being torn apart from the inside out, the baby's impending arrival a furious symphony of agony.

Bruce's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his eyes never leaving the road ahead. "Almost there," he whispered, his voice tight with concern. "Just hold on."

"What the fucking hell do you want me to hold onto?" She spat out through gritted teeth, her anger a stark contrast to the serene night outside the car windows. She was already tired of the pain, tired of the secrets, and tired of the fear that her labor would turn into a full-blown Gotham crisis.

He didn't respond to her outburst. He knew better than to argue with a woman in labor. "The hospital's up ahead," he said instead, his eyes darting to the GPS for confirmation. "We're almost there."

The car's tires skidded slightly as they took a sharp turn, and she felt the baby kick hard, as if in protest to the chaotic journey. She let out a low moan, "Oh, when this baby is born, you better pray I don't fucking kill you, Bruce. Because right now, I'm seriously considering it."

Bruce's jaw clenched, but he kept his eyes on the road, his knuckles white. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice tight with tension. "We're almost there. Just keep breathing."

The hospital emerged from the darkness like a beacon of hope, its lights piercing the night like a thousand tiny stars. Bruce's heart hammered in his chest as he pulled the car into the emergency bay, the tires screeching to a halt. He threw the car into park and jumped out, rushing around to her side to help her out.

"I can do it," she grunted, her face contorted in pain as she pushed herself upright. Another contraction washed over her, and she leaned heavily against the car, panting. "Just get a fucking wheelchair."

Bruce didn't argue. He dashed into the hospital, the doors swinging open with a whoosh that seemed to echo the urgency of the situation. The cool air inside was a stark contrast to the stifling tension of the car.

In moments, a nurse in blue scrubs emerged, her face a mask of calm professionalism. She took in the scene with a quick glance, then moved with purpose towards her. "Ma'am," she said, her voice soothing, "let's get you inside."

The contraction passing, and she straightened up with a wince. "Well, no shit, I'm not having a baby out here," she quipped through gritted teeth, trying to keep the panic at bay. The nurse's eyes widened slightly at the profanity, but she remained unflappable, pushing the wheelchair closer.

Bruce helped her into the chair, his touch gentle despite his urgency. "Honey, I know you're in a lot of pain," he began, his voice tight with concern. "But just keep the profanity pointing at me, okay?" He shot a quick, apologetic look at the nurse. "The nice nurse is just doing her job to help you."

"Fine," She bit out, the pain in her voice a stark contrast to the coldness of her words. "Fuck you,"

"Yes, my love," Bruce said, his voice a soothing balm to her frazzled nerves.

The nurse wheeled her through the automatic doors, the cool air of the hospital's emergency room wrapping around them like a sterile embrace. The bright lights and the smell of antiseptic were jolting after the dark, quiet journey from the manor. Her eyes snapped open, and she took in the scene with a sense of urgency that seemed to fuel her every movement.

"Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Wayne," she said, pushing the wheelchair with an efficiency born of experience. She gripped the armrests, her knuckles white as Bruce jogged alongside her, his hand hovering protectively over her shoulder.

The hallways were a blur of white and blue as they sped towards the labor ward. The clack of the nurse's shoes echoed through the corridor, punctuated by her labored breaths. Each contraction was a battle, her body fighting against the relentless tide of pain that threatened to drown her.

Finally, the nurse stopped in front of a closed door, her expression calm and reassuring. "Here we are," she said, her voice a gentle whisper. "Let's get you prepped for delivery."

She nodded, her eyes never leaving Bruce's as the nurse wheeled her into the room. It was a stark, medical space, but the sight of the hospital bed and the monitoring equipment brought a sense of relief.

The nurse began to ask questions, but her attention was on Bruce. His eyes were filled with a mix of fear and determination, his jaw set as he nodded to each of the nurse's instructions. She could see the wheels turning in his head, planning for every possible scenario. It was a look she had seen countless times when he was Batman, but now it was for her, for their baby.

"Mrs., can you tell me how far apart your contractions are?" the nurse asked, her voice calm and soothing.

"Fuck if I know," she snapped, the pain making her irritable. "They're close. Too close."

Bruce stepped forward, his hand reaching for hers. "They're about two minutes apart," he said, his voice firm. "They've been getting stronger and closer since we left."

The nurse nodded, her gaze flicking to the monitors that had begun to beep in response to her contractions. She checked her watch and made a note before turning back to them with a gentle smile. "We'll get you into a room and start monitoring you properly," the nurse assured. "We're going to take good care of you."

"I fucking hope so," she gasped as another contraction hit, the intensity of the pain making her dizzy. The nurse's expression remained calm, but Bruce could see the concern in her eyes. She knew this wasn't the first time she'd seen a mother in such distress, but the urgency was palpable.

With a gentle touch, the nurse began to check she vitals, her movements swift and efficient. She spoke calmly, explaining each step as she went along. He eyes remained on Bruce, seeking comfort in his presence, as the nurse checked the baby's heart rate and the progression of her labor.

"You're already five centimeters dilated," the nurse announced, her voice a balm to their frazzled nerves. "Looks like baby Wayne is eager to make an entrance."

Bruce couldn't help but chuckle, his hand tightening around her. "The Wayne family trait," he murmured, his eyes shining with a hint of pride. "Always dramatic."

She glared at him, the pain momentarily forgotten. "You better not be calling me fucking dramatic," she hissed through gritted teeth, her eyes flashing. "Remember what I said back in the car Bruce."

Bruce's smile grew wider, but it was tinged with a hint of nervousness. "Of course, my love," he said, his voice a gentle tease. "I know how much you'd love to kill me, but right now let's focus on the baby."

The nurse gave them both a knowing look before focusing back on her. "Everything looks good," she said, her voice calm and soothing. "But we need to get you into a delivery room right away."

The words had barely left her mouth when a sharp pain lanced through her, "What was that?" she panted, her eyes wide with fear.

The nurse's expression grew serious. "That, Mrs. Wayne, was your baby deciding it's time to join us," she said, her voice calm. "You're in transition."

Her eyes widened with a mix of fear and excitement as the nurse called for a doctor over the intercom. The room was suddenly a flurry of activity, with medical staff rushing in and out, whispering urgently to one another. The chaos was a stark contrast to the quiet calm she had been trying to maintain throughout her labor, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of panic rising in her chest.

"Bruce," she choked out, her voice trembling. "Please don't leave me."

Her husband squeezed her hand reassuringly, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'm not going anywhere," he said, his voice a steady promise. "I'll be right here with you."

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself as the contractions grew more intense. The pain was like nothing she had ever experienced, a burning, crushing force that seemed to consume her whole being. But she knew she couldn't let it control her, not now. Not when their baby was so close.

"Bruce," she panted, her eyes squeezed shut. "I'm sorry for snapping. This just hurts like hell, and I'm so tired of hiding it."

He squeezed her hand back, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a soothing rhythm. "You don't have to apologize," he said, his voice a warm reassurance in the cold hospital room. "You're doing amazing."

The doctor rushed in, a stern look on her face that spoke of urgency. "We need to get you to the delivery room," she said, her voice firm but kind. "Your baby's ready to come out."

She nodded, gripping Bruce's hand so tightly he could feel her bones, but he didn't flinch. He was her rock, her protector, her love. The nurse wheeled her down the hallway, the lights flashing by like a strobe in a nightclub. Each bump in the floor sent a fresh wave of pain through her body, but she bit her lip, focusing on the end goal: holding her child.

The delivery room was a blur of activity, with nurses and doctors moving quickly and confidently. The cold, sterile smell washed over her, but it didn't matter. All she cared about was the warmth of Bruce's hand and the promise of their baby's arrival.

"Bruce," She whispered, her voice a raw, desperate plea as the contractions grew closer together.

He leaned in, his eyes full of love and determination. "You can do this," he murmured, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped her tightly closed eyes. "Our baby is almost here."

The doctor's voice was firm but gentle as she instructed her to begin pushing. "When you feel the next contraction," she said, "push down with everything you have. Don't hold back."

She took a deep breath, the room around her a cacophony of beeping machines and worried whispers. The only thing that grounded her was Bruce's hand in hers, his eyes never leaving hers. She nodded, steeling herself for the next onslaught of pain.

The contraction hit like a sledgehammer, and she gritted her teeth, pushing with every ounce of strength she had. Bruce's hand squeezed hers in encouragement, his eyes never leaving her face. "Good," he murmured, his voice steady. "Keep going."

Her body felt like it was being torn in two, but she pushed with everything she had, the sound of her own grunts filling her ears. The doctor's voice grew more insistent, counting down the seconds with a calm urgency.

"You're doing it," Bruce said, his voice thick with emotion. "You're almost there."

The room grew quieter, the only sounds the rhythmic beeping of the machines and the doctor's encouraging murmurs. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her entire world focused on the effort of bringing their child into the world.

"One more big push," the doctor coached, her voice filled with excitement. "You're doing it."

She took one final, deep breath, and pushed with a roar that seemed to come from the very depths of her soul. The pain was unbearable, but it was dwarfed by the overwhelming love and determination that fueled her.

Suddenly, there was a change in the room. The air grew thick with anticipation, and then, amidst a symphony of relief and joy, the doctor announced, "It's a girl!"

The cry of their daughter pierced the silence, a sound so beautiful it brought tears to their eyes. She collapsed back against the pillows, exhaustion and euphoria warring on her face. Bruce leaned over her, kissing her forehead as the doctor placed their tiny, squalling newborn into her arms. The baby's tiny fists waved in the air, her face red and wrinkled from her battle to be born.

"Hello, little one," she whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming. She looked up at Bruce, her eyes shining with love and disbelief. "We have a daughter."

"Yes, we do," Bruce said, his voice thick with emotion as he stared down at their baby. "She's beautiful,"

The room was suddenly filled with the soft cries of their newborn daughter, her tiny voice a stark contrast to the sterile silence that had reigned moments before. Her heart swelled with love and relief, the pain of labor already fading into the background. She looked into Bruce's eyes, seeing the same love and wonder reflected there.

"What's her name?" the nurse asked, a gentle smile playing on her lips.

She and Bruce exchanged glances, the weight of their decision settling heavily on their hearts. They had discussed names endlessly, but in this moment, it felt like the most important choice they would ever make.

Next

Writers note: I have no idea what to name her. What should her name be?

Tell me what you think it should be.

And I'll make a Part 4. But only if you people give me ideas for baby girl name.