#HE IS MORE THAN JUST A MAN WHO PUNCHES CRIMINALS

[mikareo]

“ ࣭⸰ ★ THE MOON SAYS HELLO. . . ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀呪術廻船; geto suguru x fem reader ⠀ ꒰ . . part one of three ꒱ . . . word count; 3.6k

⊹ ⠀⠀despite his insistence on never falling in love, suguru fails to stop himself from becoming smitten with his best friend’s beloved. you’ve become a flicker of hope in his darkness— though you’re someone who can never and will never be his to have and to hold.

series contains; if gojo didn’t kill geto n geto was given a chance to redeem himself, redemption arc!geto, human caretaker!reader, kind of e2l but also not really, love triangle, gojo x reader, fluff, major angst, heartbreak, wedding at the end, swearing probably, geto refers to humans as monkeys per usual author's note; rewritten fic, will be 3 parts in total (i'm half done pls be patient w me im a slow writer...)

YEAR ONE, DAY ONE

His face is sore. So sore. It’s red, swollen, and sore after he’s spent the last three hours screaming in frustration with his current predicament. This is absurd, Satoru should’ve just killed him when he had the chance. Geto’s lost count of how many times his palms have slapped his own face; over and over again with wishes that he can wake up from this hellish nightmare the higher ups call ‘rehabilitation’— though he can somewhat still recall the first slap that he’d given himself around the half-hour mark. He’s got a pretty good memory…that doesn’t stop him from hoping his veins aren’t too noticeable as they angrily protrude from his forehead in crimson currents.

He’d rather be dead than imprisoned like this…like an animal…like one of those damn useless monkeys.

The intensity of his wails continue to bounce off of the barren walls— barren aside from the dark mark he’d punched in earlier— and echo like a party of lost ghouls in the bottom of an empty well. Geto feels like a mad man.

He’s only just begun his isolation and he’s already growing mad with boredom. 

A huff escapes his lips as he plops himself down onto the twin-sized bed that’s nestled in the corner of his so-called ‘suite’. With linen sheets and a dark maroon comforter, it’s almost a cozy living situation; in another life, Geto could imagine himself cuddling beneath the covers with his favorite book and a soft record playing in the background for some ambience. That world is far far away now. Even if he asked for a record player, he doubts the higher ups would grant him one. He’s their most valuable prisoner, and they’re sure to keep him as miserable as possible until he’s one-hundred-percent pure hearted once more. However, despite their reluctance to grant him the things he wants, these aren’t the worst living arrangements he’s ever encountered and he knows that Gojo did his best to give him the best commodities he could to…well…a highly dangerous criminal. 

This is the only path to forgiveness, he reminds himself, constantly trying to be optimistic about the utter absurdity of it all. 

Optimism hasn’t been his specialty in a long time; anyone with a working pair of eyes would be able to deduce that, and he despises it. He’s quite rusty with the characteristic and has looked on the darker side for a while now— but wishes that he could be as reckless as he once was as a teenager. He can vividly remember how loud his laughter was with Gojo and Shoko, laughing as they chased each other throughout the school yard and using each other's cursed energy to their advantage in games of tag— but that would be near impossible now. His two best friends can barely look him in the eyes after the treason he’s committed. Gojo views him as a ticking time bomb and Shoko’s healed too many people to count that he’s harmed.

If he stepped one foot out of this room, he believes he’d be smothered on sight.

The Jujutsu Society fears Geto Suguru..

…and Geto Suguru fears himself. 

In all fairness, he deserves everything that’s come to him. What he did was awful; mass murdering humans…trying to murder even more humans…harming innocent students…starting a war during the holiday season…the whole gist. There are obviously bad actions from the past that continue to haunt Geto to this day and will continue haunting him so long as he breathes— but that’s all it is now…the past. He wants redemption. He needs redemption. If Gojo managed to reach clarity within Geto’s awful decisions, then maybe he can too. 

Geto wants to get better, to be better…not only for Gojo…but for himself. 

This is exactly why he and his best friend has devised a plan, one that will hopefully help lead Geto on a better path— a five-year path that will only be completed if he truly wants it to, and a half a decade seems like quite a bit of time to most; but for Geto, he doesn’t know if it will be enough. 

For Satoru…do it for Satoru…

He wraps his arms around himself in an attempt to comfort his heart that beats with fear every second of every day. It’s been so long since he’s been hugged by another, and he doubts he’ll ever feel that love and comfort from someone in his life. It’s the first time in a long time that he’s been alone with his thoughts with no one else to turn to; and if he’s being honest, there’s nothing in the entire world that scares him more than his own mind. 

“Geto Suguru?”

He doesn’t recognize that voice.

The soft sound comes from seemingly nowhere, startling Geto with a slight jump. Whomever it is sounds frail and weak, obviously intimidated by whom they’re going to be in the presence of in mere minutes; and Geto already finds nothing but annoyance at his new companion. Of course they’re going to have prior judgment. He bets you already hate him for the rumors and stories. He doesn’t really have a choice whether or not you come in, though. Gojo insisted on a caretaker— someone to talk to so he doesn’t go insane by himself— and Geto will do anything to make his best friend happy. So, he stands up and dusts his pants off, making sure to look more presentable, and stalks towards the entryway. His hand meets the knob, yanking it open, and ready to meet the stranger on the other side. 

Standing before him is you, a woman around his age. You can’t possibly be older than twenty-six, but perhaps you’re a few years younger. In your hands are various sweets and snacks that Gojo knows Geto loves, balancing on a silver tray that shines more light in the room than he’d care for. The reflections dazzle straight into his eyes, blinding him briefly with a scowl on his face. Of course Gojo would know to send you in with his favorites. He’s so predictable. His best friend is less surprising than he thinks, causing Geto to roll his eyes to the top of his head; though he appreciates the kind gesture. It’s far past dinner, though. Gojo must’ve struggled to convince the others to allow him a proper meal. 

“Don’t just stand there, monkey.” Geto commands whilst gesturing to the small dining table in the center of his confined space. “Come inside.”

The instant you stepped into his presence, it was horribly noticeable that you have no cursed energy. Zero. Not a lick of it…and he struggles to hide the disgust with his body language. He can’t help but be annoyed that a monkey such as yourself is going to be in his company for the next five years. 

With his distaste for you clear as day, he pulls out a chair for himself and disregards the kind option of pulling out yours prior; expectantly looking towards you with the expectation that you’re going to serve him his meal like a servant. 

“Well, monkey…” he trails off disinterested, “I’m waiting.”

You hustle towards him, quickly and efficiently placing the special grade sorcerer’s meal on the placemat before him and taking the empty seat opposite. There’s a small breath you’re holding in, Geto can see it in your throat— it’s suffocating you with fear for your life as your fingers lightly tap the dark wood in a nervous fit. 

You’re completely pathetic. As if a monkey would ever have the courage to speak to him. This is ridiculous.

His hands slam against the table with a loud bang. “What are you doing?” he questions, heavily interrogating you as you cower in your seat like a meak mouse. “Does Satoru expect you to monitor my meals?”

He really is nothing but a prisoner, isn’t he?

“What damage could I possibly do with this slob that’s been served to me by the scum of the earth? Start a food fight in the halls? Overthrow the Jujutsu world with a biscuit?” (If that is the case, in your defense, the biscuits are quite hard. There must be a new kitchen hand in training who based them.) This is a horrible day.

As Geto impatiently awaits your answer, a deep breath escapes your lips— perhaps a way to soothe your heartbeat into something less than a record-breaking speed— and you attempt to focus your stress and fear into a fleeting moment of zen. Your large eyes shut for a total of three seconds; one, two, three…before opening again. This time, as his own eyes make contact with yours, they’re shining with slightly more confidence than before as you swallow hard and settle your gaze on Geto— the look in your eyes evolving from that of anxiety to empathy. 

“Actually,” your lips rise into a thin smile, “Gojo Satoru didn’t send me here, the higher ups did.”

Your eyes search Geto’s for any signs of discomfort or inner rage that could be boiling beneath the surface of his poker face. It appears that he’s grown even stronger at hiding his true emotions towards humans; however, you can see through the veil. Yes, it’s thick and difficult to brush past, but there’s a slight opening in the center that you peek inside— and what you can see in his heart is a man who simply wants to finally do what’s right. 

“The higher ups are aware that Gojo Satoru has a soft spot for you— hell, everyone who knows your name is aware that when it comes to you, he has no reason. He has no right of mind. I’m only here to monitor and report your progress in an honest manner. That’s it. That’s all. I promise I won’t intrude on your life more than necessary.” 

Shit.

“I’m sorry, Geto Suguru…but you’re stuck with me.”

It’s as if his left and right sides are arguing between themselves. His good conscience says that he should give you a chance, perhaps you could be different than the monstrous humans that attempted to kill his beloved Mimiko and Nanako; while his bad conscience tells him to let out one of his cursed spirits to devour you where you stand. Listening to his right side would definitely get him his best case scenario…a chance to see his girls again…but the left side would be so much more enjoyable. Oh well. At least the higher ups sent someone somewhat his age and not an ancient and decaying corpse like themselves. That’s a disgusting thought. He’d rather be hugged by a hundred humans than be forced to befriend a higher up. A shiver runs through Geto’s spine as a newfound appreciation for you is birthed within him.

“Do you have a name?” Geto taunts as he begins to pick at his meal, slightly disgusted with the stale quality of some of the snacks but nevertheless thankful that he at least has something to subside his aching hunger. “Or should I just call you ‘monkey’ as I do with the rest of your kind?”

That sound?

You’re laughing?

Your giggles are surprisingly pleasant to Geto’s ears as they harmonize into a song that he can imagine himself listening to each morning. Why did you find that funny? He was quite literally insulting your entire existence. Geto is dumbfounded by the strange humor you seem to have, considering that he was being entirely serious with his question. Humans are so strange. He’s never really been able to understand how your peoples’ minds work, but perhaps he could begin to learn the basics. It’s not like he has anything better to do, and some entertainment would be nice. 

He’ll keep you around…it wouldn’t hurt and you can be his companion kind of like a pet.

Pets are cute…

…your smile is cute too.

You smile once more, answering his question with a blush on your face. “Please,” your cheeks redden, “Call me by my name, Suguru.”

YEAR ONE, DAY NINETY-FOUR

“You’re late.” Geto crosses his arms over his chest, exhaling a large breath of air in a loud and annoyed huff as he attempts to seem seriously angered by his new friend’s awful timing. 

It’s nearly twenty minutes past the time that you were supposed to be here; emphasis on supposed. He’s been waiting with his eyes staring at the clock, watching it tick and tick as the time passed by with no you knocking on his door. That’s twenty whole minutes of time in which he was forced to entertain himself rather than listen to your rambles and rants about whatever the latest scandal is in the outside world. You love that pop culture gossip stuff that social media and magazines rave about, and in a weird way, you somewhat remind him of his daughters— personality-wise…not attraction wise…that would be weird. 

Over the past few months, Geto’s grown severely accustomed to the daily routine that you’ve developed, becoming so fond of you that he strangely pictures your smile and recalls your laughter when you aren’t even here. Friendship is a funny thing. He doesn’t think he’s ever had a friend like yourself; yes, Satoru will always be his closest confidant…but his relationship with you is different in a way that he can’t quite put his finger on. He’s never considered anyone else the highlight of his every day like he does you. Your company is the kind of presence that he overwhelmingly enjoys; with such a positive and warm nature exuding comfort to Geto’s loneliness, and your judgment-free outlook on life rivaling his pessimism in a perfect mixture of negativity and optimism. He wishes he’d met you sooner, perhaps when he was a child— and if he had, maybe he wouldn’t have turned out the way he did. 

It’s too bad you would’ve only been an awful human to him back then…he would’ve called you his infamous nickname without batting an eye…a monkey…

…a mere monkey whom he never ever thought he’d develop unwanted feelings for.

For his entire life, Geto always told himself not to fall in love. That love isn’t real. It isn’t obtainable, not when there are people like Satoru in the world— people that you can’t help but love— and then people like him; people who you can’t help but hate. With that being said, he’s never necessarily been looking forward to any potential love matches in his future.

…no matter who he was involved with…

…until he met you.

“Sorry about that, Suguru!” you hustle through the doorway, your appearance a tangled mess with dusty dirt particles littered with gravel. 

There’s a large scratch on your right cheek, not deep or in danger of infection in any way, but noticeable enough that he’s able to see it from a distance. Knowing you, it’s most likely accidentally self-inflicted in some sort of way; you being notorious for tripping or snagging your skin on the sharp end of a table. How do you always manage to be so uncoordinated? Geto can’t help but let out a short laugh, his eyes scrolling up and down your body and taking in your entire appearance, dirt and all. You even manage to make dirt look good. What the fuck? He hates this.

Your voice carries on as you approach him. “I was running on time, but then I saw this adorable shop downtown and I just had to make a stop.” The overexaggerated tone you hold is amusing as your hands wave through the air in a physical storytelling of your experience. The skin of your cheeks is flushed red from your sprint through the city, looking beautiful in resemblance to that of a blooming rose. 

Geto can feel his own face heating up at the sight of you, choosing to shrug nonchalantly in an attempt to seem as if he doesn’t care at all about your dilemma…

…as if he doesn’t care about every second of your everyday…

…as if your overall excitement isn’t the only thing that truly keeps him going nowadays. 

“You tell me these things as if what you do outside of this room matters to me.” He hopes his words mask his rising blush. (Spoiler alert: They don’t.)

Flawlessly, you brush off Geto’s phony disinterest without the slightest acknowledgement. It’s as if the phrase had never even left his lips, with no evidence and proof of insult. This isn’t an uncommon occurrence when the topic of what you do when you’re not with him comes up in conversation, as the prisoner typically tries to ignore his interest in your daily shenanigans— and you can’t deny that it hurts. Most of the time, it feels as if Geto never actually listens to anything you say, and you were able to quickly realize that in the early weeks of your arrangement when the pain began to torment your heart; ripping and shredding it to bits with every eye roll and mocking scoff. You don’t seem to matter in Geto’s point of view. He doesn’t care…at least that’s what you believe. 

In contrast to Geto, you’re an emotional spirit— you crave love.Love is all you’ve ever wanted, needed, and desired. In your time with him, you’ve developed inklings of feelings as well. However, you’ve chosen to let your feelings grow and blossom out of the dirtied patch of grass they were planted in— ignoring the warnings every single person in your life has given you in advance. Despite that, Geto continues to stomp on your budding flowers. He takes a heavy watering can, filled to the brim with hose water, and drowns your garden in the tears that you shed in the privacy of your bedroom. Those tears that are a never ending waterfall due to the fact that you know it isn’t your job to fall in love with your client. Your duty to Jujutsu Society is to help Geto learn to love humans and sorcerers as one in the same and to gain the trust of his community once more— not to love you.

“Okay, before you judge me, at least give me a chance to explain myself.” Stumbling towards Geto, you accidentally trip over your own feet in embarrassment, and proceed to hold out a single flower not yet in bloom. “It’s freshly cut. I saw a bouquet in the window and it caught my eye, because it reminded me of you; but I knew you’d hate a flashy bunch of them so I just bought the one.”

It reminded you of him?

Taking the gift into his own hands, Geto studies it intensely. The rose is a dark shade of red, crimson, or scarlet depending on your vocabulary. The petals are a brighter color while the plushness near the stem turns dark, more sinister as it approaches the thorns lining the sides. Just by looking at the rose, he can understand why it made you think of him. It’s gorgeous, but practically untouchable figuratively and literally. There’s only one angle that he can hold the stem at that doesn’t prick his fingers. Ouch. And he just did the very thing he was being so careful of avoiding.

All his life, he’s never been the kind of person who longed for gifts or compliments, but when coming from the right person…perhaps he is. 

Whilst he struggles to come up with a reply— a simple ‘thank you’ or ‘i appreciate this’— you mentally applaud yourself as you’ve finally found a way to make him speechless…

…but your praise for yourself is short-lived.

He can’t be weak. Not even for you.“I guess it’s not terrible.” Geto throws the flower to the ground and lightly kicks it away with his right foot. As one of the beautiful petals drifts away from the lonely flower, he turns away, not being able to endure the heartbroken look on your face and the offended rose on the floor. Why does he have to be like this? “I’m sure that garbage is all a monkey like you can afford anyways.” Why is he so cruel?

His eyes clench shut as he hears the door begin to close. You’re so gentle even when upset. He admires that about you— you’re the calm to his ever-raging storm, the sailor to his tsunami, and the lifeboat to his wreckage— you’re the most pure-hearted person he knows, and you don’t deserve this awful anger he holds within him. 

Is he…crying?

As tears begin to drip down his cheeks, Geto collapses against the wall with his knees buckling beneath him and his weight crumbling down to a pile of patheticness. He’s just a shell of a man undeserving of someone like you. Soft sobs escape his lips and silent cries fill the hollow room, absent of your joy, crying out until he notices the faint outline of the young rose beside him. With the flick of his hand, he snatches the flower off the ground and lifts the thorny plant with careful hands— finally and truly understanding your meaning behind the gift. This is how you see him? He’s dreadful and hurtful to others on the outside, prickling kind people away with his thorns…but when encouraged and supported, he has the potential to become something beautiful.

Someone that could one day be compared to the beauty that is of a blooming rose. 

With the budding rose in his grasp, Geto sits alone. He realizes that he’s only able to become that person with the help of you. You’re the only person that has even come close to seeing him for who he truly is; aside from Satoru you’re the only person who would think of giving such a gift to the number one enemy of the Jujutsu world. You’re the only person who he’s ever come to feel true and honest romantic love towards. 

Geto has to become better. Not only for himself and Satoru…but now, for you.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀thank you for reading! reblogs are greatly appreciated! ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀i promise i'll post the next 2 parts soon pls be patient :3

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[dragonpyre]

I think it’d be really funny if Dick just,,,always saw Bruce as his partner/colleague instead of a father.

Because 1. You have a tiny 9 year old very firmly saying this adult man who dresses up as a bat to punch criminals is my equal and 2. Some very strange dynamics, especially when Jason comes in

Like Jason in all insecure about being the second Robin and the second son just for Dick to kick the door of the manor open like AYEEEEEE where’s my favorite nephew!!!!??? And generally act like a wine aunt so ready to go to bat (lol) for this kid. And completely denying that he’s Bruce’s kid cuz lmao no I’m not? He used to be a good partner and all but we kinda fell apart at the end.

Wait no that’s hilarious. Feral little 9 year old insisting they’re equals with an adult. Insane behavior

And even more insane when he shows up and insists he’s this kids uncle, despite only being six years older than him.

He’d make the best wine aunt imaginable. Sharing photos with all his super hero friends, teaching him fucked up shit like how to Hotwire a car, take him out for pizza and ice cream despite Jason being grounded.

#ask #dc #dick Grayson #Bruce Wayne #Jason Todd

[astroph1les]

all in a day’s work [h.c]

summary: being spider-woman is going pretty well for hazel. that is until you notice these cuts and bruises appearing on her skin. she’s just a little clumsy, though, right?

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: mature language and content, shower sex (very little detail), spider!hazel, mentions of hazel’s transformation since becoming spider-woman, slight violence, cannabis mention, mentions of the avengers events, josie is hazel’s guy in the chair.

word count: 4.4K

a/n: it’s here. i’m beyond excited for you guys to read this short series. it’s going to be a four parter, uploading each part every week for the month of october. thank you and enjoy <3

one | two | three | four

Hazel hated criminals.

The ones who stole purses from innocent old ladies who were just trying to buy groceries. The ones who harass and assault women for rejecting them. Or in this special Brooklyn norm, a guy who had hotwired a BMW who was now involved in a high speed chase with four cop cars and a special hero following him.

Normally, she would be more than pleased to arrive at the scene. On any other day, she wouldn’t have promised to meet her girlfriend — sweet and patient you — at the bodega that your uncle owned. But some dumbass just had to hotwire a car when she had to meet you in an hour.

Hazel swung in between buildings, following the sirens of the police cars and the map inside of her mask, her eyes darting from car to car to find the one that was described. A dark purple BMW speeding down Tillary Street, turning down Gold Street. Once she had spotted the vehicle, she launched herself faster in the vicinity before landing on a U-Haul truck that was a few cars behind the BMW.

This guy was swerving and weaving through cars like a maniac as Brooklyn’s finest were hot on his trail. Hazel shook her hands out as a nerve-releaser, her gloved hands stretching in and out. She then sprinted across the top of the truck before launching a web at a tall building to maneuver her way onto the back of the BMW.

The breeze felt nice, though, after swinging around for so long. Her hands were gripping onto the sides of the vehicle to keep her balance.

“Excuse me, sir!” She tapped on the back window, waving a hand to get his attention.

The man’s eyes flickered to his rear-view mirror, eyes visibly widening at the sight of Spider-Woman hanging from the back of the stolen car. His response was to step on the gas. Hazel groaned as her lower stomach thumped onto the trunk, but quickly regained her posture as she hoisted herself onto her feet.

“Incoming text from honey with the white heart emoji and bee emoji,” Karen told Hazel, her Siri-like voice echoing in her ears. “Are we still on for sandwiches, babe? Semi-colon. Parenthesis.”

Hazel smiled at the message from you as she crawled to the top of the vehicle, mentally pumping her fist at the sight of the sunroof. The man had left it wide open. So he was an idiot in many ways. Hazel slipped in quickly, her bottom landing in the backseat. She’d tell Karen to reply as soon as she finishes with this nuisance.

“C’mon, dude, high-speed chase? What? Was stealing an old lady’s purse too cliche?” Hazel quipped with a cheeky attitude.

The man didn’t say a word but instead attempted to throw a punch in the backseat, letting out grunts of annoyance. Hazel blocked every swing with a sigh, wondering why the hell he was even trying.

“You know, you’d punch way better if you weren’t driving, sir.”

As the man continued to speed between cars, Hazel stares up ahead to see an empty alleyway in an upcoming street. She needed to get him off of the street so that innocent people wouldn’t be in the way of danger.

Hazel shoots a web at the man's eyes. He grunts at the sticky feeling and temporary blindness, releasing the wheel entirely. Hazel reaches over from the backseat, hands gripping onto the wheel to turn sharply into the deserted alley. She mutters a string of curses as the side of the car scrapes against the brick building.

She’ll tell Mr. Stark about billing that to the owner later.

Cars honked and came to a sudden halt at her illegal moves but the car was now in the alley, away from the public. She releases the wheel to quickly crawl out of the open sun-roof. Mid-way out, she feels the glass begin to close on her torso.

Hazel groans out at the squeezing pressure and looks down into the car to see that the man had hit the sunroof button on the roof of the interior. One of his hands gripped onto her spandex covered calf, trying to tug her back down.

“I have a girlfriend, dude. Let go,” Hazel grunted, wriggling in his grasp.

Hazel threw her foot back into his chest and jaw before jumping up and out of the car. She landed on a metal fire escape balcony. From that distance, she shot multiple webs at the end of the alleyway, creating a makeshift trap for the car to run into. Her wrists were beginning to ache but she kept her movements flowing, releasing the web as he was reaching the end. The car hit the large web with a loud thump but had stopped, which is what Hazel was aiming for.

The thief had stepped out of the car and began to book it.

“Karen, send a text back to honey reading,” Hazel stood on the fire escape and walked on the side of the building as she aimed a web at the man. The substance wrapped around his legs causing him to trip and hit the ground. “Of course. See you soon. With two x’s and o’s.”

“I am sending the text to honey.” Karen alerted Hazel to her mask.

Hazel swung over to land right next to the criminal's head, tilting her body to the side to grin at his scraped up face. She knew he couldn’t see her shit-eating grin but it brought her some sort of badass feeling. Like an ‘I-just-did-that-shit’ feeling.

“The cops will take care of you so if you’ll excuse me,” she shot her web around his wrist to keep him down and held them behind his back. “I have to see my girl.”

The man grunted loudly to which Hazel responded with a: “Bye, Mr. Criminal!” as she launches herself out of the alley and around the corner of the building.

You were browsing the shelf of snacks and candies in your uncle’s bodega. You had just gotten off your shift at the Build-A-Bear in the mall and you were absolutely starving. The array of chips and gummies made your stomach grumble, sighing as you were waiting patiently for Hazel to arrive.

Her Stark internship had consumed a lot of her time lately. Of course, you were incredibly happy and proud of her to be working under Tony Stark: a billionaire industrialist, inventor, and the Iron-Man.

You didn’t mean to seem clingy, but you missed her when she was gone.

“Bee, here you go.” You hear a voice coming from behind the counter.

There stood your uncle with your turkey club sandwich wrapped — no tomatoes. You let out a groan of relief as you walked up to the counter to take it from him. You reach into your tote to grab a five dollar bill.

“Bee, you’re not paying.” He began to walk around to avoid you giving him cash.

“Uncle Karter, take it now. I’ll hop over this counter and shove into the register,” your threat was playful, but you meant every word.

“You’re hungry so I’m giving you food. It’s just like having lunch at home.” Your uncle insisted as he pointed at you, resting his arms on the glass display of the different kinds of sandwiches and deli meat he had to offer.

You sigh, giving him a wary look. Yes, he was your uncle, but you felt guilty just being handed sandwiches that you could easily pay for. You have a job. Your uncle wouldn’t let you pay, though, so you reluctantly slip the dollar bill into your bag.

“Thank you,” you give him a small smile before taking a bite of the fresh sandwich.

“It’s nothing, kiddo.” The man shakes his head as his eyes flicker behind him at the front door. The bell rings and he jerks his head to whoever was walking in. “Your little girlfriend is here.”

You whip your head around mid-bite to see Hazel panting as if she had run here with a wide, charming smile. Her hands were holding something behind her back as she approached you happily with her brown broken-in leather backpack over one shoulder, her keys that were clasped onto a loop of her jeans jangling loudly.

“Hey,” she breathes out, her gaze flickering between both of your eyes. Hazel raises her hand to wave at your uncle. “Hi, sir.”

“Hazel, I told you to call me Karter. None of that ‘sir’ shit, dude. I’m 36, not 50.” Your uncle replied teasingly, causing you to chuckle. Hazel nodded, muttering a ‘right’. Her eyes locked with yours as your uncle began to attend to the other customers.

“How was it today?” You tilt your head as you take another bite of your sandwich.

Hazel shrugged her shoulders, scoffing out. “Boring science shit but it was good. New scientist named Dr. Connors that Mr. Stark introduced me to.”

You deadpan at her, nodding your head. Sure, the subject wasn’t your favorite but you always wanted to hear about Hazel’s day. You brushed off the short response as you swallow that bite of your sandwich.

“Okay, well, that’s good. What are you hiding?” You try to peer over her shoulder but she only leans to the same side as you.

“Grabbed something for you on the way here.” Hazel beams as she pulls out the present from behind her back.

It was a small bouquet of an array of flowers for this time of the year. It was fall in New York, so the array of white roses and yellow sunflowers brightened up your mood. Forest Hills blossomed during the chilly season; a beautiful orange hue washed over the neighborhood in Queens as the decaying leaves fell from the tree branches.

Your eyes softened at the simple yet sweet gesture. Hazel grinned awkwardly, hoping you loved them.

Ever since you two had started dating half a year ago, Hazel has always felt like she had to be the best girlfriend she could. You were her first girlfriend and she was absolutely crazy about you, as you were about her.

Other people haven’t been the kindest to you and she knew that. Lying and cheating were a main factor as you’ve told her.

The guilt ached in her chest everyday having to lie to you about being Spider-Woman. You were her entire world. Tony insisted it was for the best if she didn’t want anything to happen to you.

“You are too sweet, I swear. Thank you, baby,” you lean in close to kiss her lips quickly and take the bouquet in your free hand.

Hazel flushed so easily, making your smile widen. It was a good feeling to see after so many months that she still got flustered when you kissed her.

“It’s nothing. You deserve it.” Hazel replied as if it was something you should know.

You don’t respond to that, only blushing like Hazel was moments ago. You sniff the soft flowery scent for a moment before taking another bite of your sandwich.

“You wanna head to mine?” You offer with a flirty smile.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Hazel nodded, eyes warily darting to your uncle who was occupied with his line of customers that appeared out of the blue.

“He’ll be here for hours. C’mon,” you loop your arm around hers. “Bye, Uncle Karter. See you later.”

Your uncle simply waves his hand mid-conversation with the middle aged woman in front of him. Hazel leaned into your touch for a second before letting herself get dragged out of the bodega by you.

A fresh autumn breeze brushed against her, hitting her pale skin. You leaned your head on her shoulder as you talked about all the adorable children that had come into the Build-A-Bear.

Hazel loved these small moments with you. Well, she loved every moment but little things like this clouded her brain when she wasn’t focused on keeping her identity a secret. Watching your eyes light up when you spoke about how happy these children looked when you handed them their bear made her heart grow tenfold.

When the two of you had arrived at you and your uncle's apartment, you reached into your bag to grab the house keys.

“You hungry?” You ask as your sliding the key into the slot.

Hazel shook her head, placing a hand over her stomach. “I’m okay. Thank you, though, honey.”

You place a gentle kiss at her cheek as if to tell her that you asked her questions like that to show that you cared. You frowned, though, as you noticed a bruise and cut on her top lip that you hadn’t really seen before.

Hazel noticed you paused and furrowed her brows.

“What is it?” She whipped her head around to see if there were any potential threats. She was tempted to check her watch that Tony had given her to get Karen to scan the area.

“Babe, did you hit your lip?” You raised a hand to graze over the reddening area.

Hazel’s eyes widened once she realized what you were talking about. Earlier this morning, Hazel had a guy hit the butt of his gun at her face when she had dealt with a smoke shop robbery. She actually got free weed from the guy working the register which she plans to give to PJ.

“Oh, yeah. May was opening a cabinet up top and it hit me straight in the lip. I kind of forgot about it.” Hazel easily lied through her teeth, letting you caress the outline of her lips.

“It doesn’t hurt, right?” You ask her softly, eyes flickering up to her freckled under eyes.

Hazel shook her head with a hum, her smile growing as she admired your worried features. You looked away with a flushed grin as you pushed open the front door. The faint aroma of pumpkin and cinnamon filled Hazel’s nose, warmth filling her chest.

It wasn’t the largest apartment but it was home to you. You and uncle didn’t need much more than this.

“How is May?” You asked as you hung your keys on one of the Smurfs wall mounted key hooks that you had found at a thrift store.

“She’s good. Working at the hospital right now so she’s hoping that‘ll pay well.” Hazel explains as she traces the knick knacks on the shelf’s in the living room.

You can’t help but smile at the thought of Hazel’s Aunt May. She really was one of the kindest women you’ve ever met. May had a tendency to call you her ‘future daughter in law’ in front of Hazel just to tease the girl, watching her cheeks and tips of her ears flush a deep red.

“That’s good. I don’t want her overworking herself, though.” You sigh as you set your bag down next to the arm of the couch.

“Yeah, me neither.” Hazel sighed. “So, what did you wanna do?”

You hum in thought, bringing your single braid from behind your head to over your shoulder. You began to untangle the twisted hair as you thought about what activities you and Hazel could do now that she was free.

A certain idea came to mind.

“Well, I do need to shower so,” you say nonchalantly, hoping Hazel would get the hint.

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I can wait out here. Take your time, honey.” Hazel nodded and went over to take a seat on the couch.

You stared at her grabbing the remote for the TV, turning it on and flicking through the channels. You release your hair to allow it to sit on your shoulders, waiting patiently for Hazel to realize.

“Oh, do you wanna watch Foot Loose when you get out of the shower?” Hazel’s gaze floated back to you.

Her excitement to watch the movie dropped when she noticed you tilting your head and looking at her like that. You had only given her that look when you were insinuating something sensual. Your body was swaying back and forth as your smile grew when she set down the remote.

“Sorry. I didn’t— I thought you meant by yourself.” Hazel rushed out as she turned off the TV, chuckling nervously.

“At first, yeah. But, hey, we’re conserving water if we shower together and you know I’m all about keeping the Earth green.”

Hazel couldn’t help but nod, standing up to walk up to you. “That— yeah. That’s true. Conserving water conserves energy that reduces greenhouse gas pollution.”

Her brain shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did.

“Yeah? What else does it do?” Your fingers hook onto her belt loops, tugging her closer into your body.

Hazel allowed you to manhandle her as she would truthfully let you do anything to her. She knew how much her ability to retain and cite facts turned you on. It was obvious by how you were drinking her in like you could devour her.

“It can… oh, protect aquatic life and extend water supply to areas that lack and ensure agricultural production to thrive.” Hazel rambled out, her flush growing as your thumbs brushed past her hip bone.

“Oh, those poor sea creatures.” You frown, smacking your lips.

“Don’t you need to shower?” Hazel asked, suddenly overwhelmed with impatience.

Your smile only grew, a giggle falling from your lips. You intertwine your hands with Hazel’s as you hurriedly walk over to your small bathroom. Hazel made sure to remove her watch and set it down on the porcelain sink, not wanting any sort of message from Tony to interrupt her time with you.

You turn to shut the door and turn the lock with a ‘click’. Hazel is caught off guard by you removing your work shirt, blushing at the sight of you in your bra. She felt like such a virgin. She’s seen you naked at this point and still was a flustered mess around you.

“Can’t take a shower with clothes, Haze.” You raised your brows as you were unbuttoning your pants.

“Maybe I can. I can do laundry that way.” Hazel quipped back with a chuckle.

Nonetheless, she began to slip off her sweater. You walk over to her, hooking your fingers underneath the thick fabric to help her. Her sports bra came into view as you tugged the sweater up and off, tossing it onto the blue and white tiled ground.

You both messily kissed, clanking teeth from how rushed your movements were. Soft laughter released from you as you removed the rest of your clothing and underwear, Hazel following by copying your actions.

Hazel hoisted you up with ease by your plush thighs, causing you to let out a yelp at the sudden movement. You lazily kissed her jaw as you held onto her neck, listening to her soft hums as she stepped into the shower. You never understood how all of a sudden, Hazel had this strength and toned body. You’d never seen her hit the gym once since you’ve been together.

Not that you were complaining. Just confused.

“Alright, let me down,” you hum against her skin, “I really do have to shower.”

“I’ll, uh, help.” Hazel offered as she released her grasp from your thighs, carefully watching you step onto the tiled ground.

You simply give her a soft kiss, whispering a ‘thank you’ onto her lips. Hazel hums back before grabbing the hydrating shampoo from the shelf. You turned on the shower, letting out a soft ‘fuck’ at the cold water. You hurriedly turn the knob to the red ‘H’ symbol, leaning back into Hazel’s body.

Once the stream of water began to heat up, Hazel squirted out the correct amount of shampoo into her palms. She massaged the product to your scalp as you tilt your head back with a sigh. Her fingers work into your scalp, sending you into a domestic bliss.

“That feels so good.” You practically moan as Hazel continues with the shampooing.

Hazel chuckles with a blush, leaning down to press a gentle kiss onto your naked shoulder. Your mind practically turns to mush but you force yourself to continue the rest of your routine.

You and Hazel bathed each other after a few heated kisses. That’s all. (You had gone down on her and she fingered you until you came twice.) She had told you how much you resembled a beautiful Renaissance painting with every curve and dip of your body. The words squeezed at your heart, feeling yourself fall more and more in love with her — if that was even possible.

Now freshly bathed and spent from the day, you and Hazel settle down, remaining in just underwear with an oversized tee. The sun had been long gone — the only light source being the city lights from outside of your bedroom window. You were cuddled up in your bed on your sides Hazel was running one hand up and down the fresh and lotion-covered skin of your arm as you twirled her wet hair around your fingers.

“I wanna stay here forever.” You yawn and rub at your bare face.

“Yeah?” Hazel hummed.

You nod with a chuckle. “Oh, yeah. If I didn’t have to work or worry about stuff like the apocalypse and aliens taking over, I would stay here forever.”

“Aliens?” Hazel’s brows arched at your words, chuckling along with you.

“Well, I mean, you saw what happened with Avengers in the city a few years ago. That was terrifying, you know?” You mutter, zoning out as the memory flooded back into your mind.

You had been just a few streets down when Loki had sent an army of aliens down onto the city. Who knows what could’ve happened if you had been just one more street closer to the destruction.

Hazel only nodded because how can you forget an event like that? Lives were lost and changed forever. Hazel, at the time, was just like you; a normal girl in the city just trying to live day by day. She wasn’t able to save people as she could now.

“Let’s just… lay here a-and not think about that, honey. Okay?” Hazel whispered as she tried to reassure you while reassuring her own scattered mind.

“Okay. I’m sorry.” You whispered back with a self-deprecating chuckle as you felt that you had ruined the mood.

Hazel shook her head as she moved her hand from caressing your arm to cupping your bare cheek.

“No, no, no, it’s okay. I just don’t want you to worry about all that stuff that hasn’t happened.”

Hypocrite, Hazel’s mind echoed after she had continued to utter soft and kind words to you. That’s all she ever did. Worrying about the unknown or stuff she couldn't control.

You ultimately felt your worries fade for the time being. Hazel caresses the length of your back until your heavy eyes shut, allowing sleep to take over. Not too long after Hazel knew that you were sound asleep, she did the same.

Hazel was awakened by the sound of a loud alarm echoing throughout the space of the room. She had shot up quickly from the bed, looking down at her watch to see it was a call from Josie — her only friend from Stark Industries.

Hazel checked the time to see it was 7:04 in the morning; way too early to be calling her. She glanced at you tangled up in your bed sheets next to her, mouth slightly hung open as you were knocked out. She carefully got up from the mattress, trodding over to the bathroom to get some privacy.

Hazel groaned at her reflection, her hair a tousled mess and her shirt half-way off of her shoulders. She reluctantly answered the call on the watch, squinting her eyes as Josie came into view.

“Hi Hazel!” Her cheery voice threw her off guard.

“It’s seven in the morning, Josie.” Hazel grumbled, trying to fix her hair.

“That didn't sound like a ‘oh, good morning, Josie’ so I’ll pretend you said that.” Josie quipped back, adjusting herself in her cubicle. “Anyways, Mr. Stark told me to call you because he needs you here, like, immediately.”

Hazel’s eyes shot open. “Wait really?”

Josie hums as she types something on her laptop that was lighting up her screen. “He said in his email, and i quote: ‘call Underoos and get her here immediately. No’ and this is in all caps ‘questions’.”

Hazel rolled her eyes at the nickname. Within the first few days of working under Tony, the nickname came to mind and never left. As much as she wanted to stay in bed with you, she knew she had to see whatever Tony needed her there for. She scrunched up her nose and yawned, nodding and scratching the back of her head.

“I’ll be there soon. Probably 10-20 minutes.” Hazel stretches her free arm, releasing some tension in her biceps and upper back.

“Alright, cool. Oh, wait,” Josie muttered as she stopped typing on her keyboard, leaning back into her roller chair. “Ah, shit. Son of a bitch, dude.”

“What?” Hazel responded as she was about to leave the bathroom so she could hang up.

“No, nothing. I lost at Solitaire against Happy.” Josie shook her head, groaning before typing again on the laptop.

Hazel furrowed her brows before hanging up with a: ‘See you soon’. The last thing she heard was Josie angrily typing as she whispered: ‘Filthy cheater’.

Josie took Solitaire extremely personally.

Hazel slowly crept out of the bathroom as she had forgotten that your Uncle Karter was now home, if not, awake. She tiptoed back into your room, grabbing her bag from the small carpet strawberry right next to your bed. You had adjusted once again in your sleep, snuggling into the plush of your pillow.

You were a fidgety sleeper but she found it adorable. Watching over you right now almost made her stay but she couldn't risk Tony being angry with her. She quickly changed into her suit, walking over to your window to unlock it and crack it open.

Taking one more glance at your unconscious body, Hazel tugged her mask over her face before she shot a web out of the window at a building across the street. She threw her bag over her shoulder as she swung to the apartment building next door all the way to the Stark Tower.

Mid-way there, she suddenly remembered that she didn’t leave a note for you like she usually would when she left so suddenly. She brushed it off and told herself she’d send you a text as soon as she left.

Nothing to worry about.

Right?

taglist: @imjustapearl @seethesin @matchamilkislover @beabeebrie @curiousshifter101 @uraesthete @fictionalcharacterspecialist @c4llahansgirl @maggiecc @fruitysnackysmain @crvptidgf <33

#hazel callahan #bottoms movie #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms 2023 #ruby cruz #hazel callahan x you #spider hazel #spider woman #hazel callahan fic

[battymommastuff]

The Accident (Pt. 2)

Batmom x Batfamily Prompt: At least you did something...

TW: VERY DARK!!!!

Part 1

"She isn't making any progress. We've tried everything from electroshock therapy to simply giving her a journal to write her feelings." 

You could hear your personal therapist talking to your husband...well ex husband by now. Your marriage died the day he put you in this damn place. What place? None other than Arkham Asylum. At first he could live with what you did, he understood what you did. Everyone understood why you did it, but what happened after...he couldn't live with it. 

Bruce watched as his wife shut down. You became a shell of what you once were. The warm, welcoming mother that everyone knew you to be died. Something cold, and sinister was left in her place. The Gotham criminals began to fear you more than Batman himself. Batman held back...he pulled his punches. You...you didn't. You couldn't. This life, the scum of Gotham took your son away from you. How could Bruce just sit there and be okay with it? 

Everything came to a boiling point when he walked into the manor with his newest sidekick, Tim Drake...

"Y/N, this is Tim Drake. He will be assisting us in our...work." Bruce said and rested a hand on the young man's shoulder. Instead of a warm greeting or a smile that one usually got when meeting Y/N Wayne, Tim got a stone cold glare. 

"Jason's grave isn't even covered in grass, and you're already replacing him?" You growled as you stood from your seat on the couch. Tim flinched at your tone, and moved back a bit. He heard such good things about you. This wasn't how he was expecting things to go. 

"Good job Bruce, get another kid...let's see how long he lasts before he's in the grave too." You spat before storming off. That night, you chose to go on patrol alone. While Bruce and Tim were doing their own thing, you were spending your night alone. As you sat perched on a ledge, watching the city that you've grown to hate, all you could think of was Tim. How could Bruce just move on so quickly? You weren't surprised. He spent most of that night scolding you and lecturing you for nearly killing the Joker. Now the bastard was in a coma, and you wished he was dead. 

The sound of a woman screaming knocked you from your thoughts, and you looked down seeing the said woman blocking her young child from an attacker. You don't know what happened at that moment, but something snapped. You weren't going to let another mother's heart be broken, or the child's. No more families were going to be broken because of scum like this. You blacked out again, and this time you came to be pinned to the brick wall by Batman. Robin was hovering over the man you'd just beaten. He pressed two fingers to his neck then looked at Batman. Robin shook his head, and then looked at you. Instead of horror, or remorse...you smirked, "At least I did something." You whispered to your husband. 

Now here you were, wasting away in the cells of Arkham. Eating food that was stale, and cold. It made you miss Alfred's cooking. Several inmates tried to gang up on you, and quickly learned why that was a bad idea. 

"The doctors are beginning to fear her. She's got a rage inside of her that can't be tamed. Whatever set her off...doesn't seem to want to fade away." Your therapist looked over at you, chained to the table that you were forced to sit at. Bruce clenched his jaw as he looked at you. You'd lost weight, and your face was sunken in. You looked half dead. 

"Then we'll find something new. I'm not giving up on her. If you can't help her, then I'll have to find someone who can." Bruce snapped. He knew that keeping you here would kill you in the end. You weren't made for a place like this. He wanted you home with him and Alfred. It was where you belonged. 

Little did he know that the solution to his problem was going to be solved...

It would be several weeks later, close to when visiting hours would end. You were sitting in your cell with your back facing the door when you heard it open. 

"Mom?"

That voice made your entire body go cold. Yes the tone was deeper, and a little gravely, but you knew that voice. The Gotham accent...it couldn't be anyone else. Slowly your head turned, and you nearly fainted when your eyes met the ones staring back at you...

To be continued...

(I know most wanted a pt.2 with Jason's reaction, but I got a little carried away lol. I promise I will make a pt.3 with his reaction!)

#batmom imagines #batfam x reader #bruce wayne x reader #batmom #batman #damian wayne x reader #bruce wayne #red hood #robin #tim drake x reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd x batmom #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson x batmom #batmom x batfam #dc comics #nightwing #batman x reader #bruce wayne x you #dc x reader #dc batman

[kryptonian-bat-thing]

Superman shows up at the Hall of Justice as everyone is minding their own business. Flash, Cyborg and Green Lantern are chatting by the cafeteria while Martian Manhunter and Aquaman are watching Hawkgirl spar with Wonder Woman.

The Man of Steel stops by each member and hands them a card and a box, each one decorated accordingly to their themes and likings.

"Happy Valentine's!" his smile flashes as he speaks. Tilting his head and turning to the sides, he then lifts an eyebrow. "Where's B?"

"Didn't show up today," Flash replies, unraveling the pretty lightning themed bow that held his gifted box shut. "Try checking the monitor room."

"He is not here. Perhaps he is patrolling Gotham at this hour." J'onn adds after a quick psychic scan, smiling to see the Oreo dessert that Superman got for him in his gift box.

Kal wishes them all a happy Valentine's day once again, before exiting and soaring to the sky in Gotham's direction. The early night settled in with the melting snow as he held close the last boxes on his strong hands.

"Superman!" a familiar voice reaches him, from the top of a sky scraper. He lowers himself to float near a small figure on top of a gargoyle.

"Hello, Robin! Have you seen Batman around?"

The small boy ties his thick eyebrows in a scowl. They are so much like his father's, Superman chuckles internally at the resemblance.

"Don't worry," he opens a friendly grin to the boy "I brought something for you as well. Jon sends his regards." Handing the smaller box to the boy, a flashy card with an attempted portrait drawn attached to it. Although he pretends he can't, Kal notices the hitch on the kid's heartbeat when he grabs and takes a look at the gift.

A nod as thanking, the boy wonder jumps off and grapples, disappearing into the Gotham night. Kal follows him with his head.

As he faces the dark, a known heartbeat comes behind him, in the shadows. He plays as though he can't hear it, waiting for the sign to acknowledge the Dark Knight's presence.

"Superman." it's broody as always, but not as cold as when they first met. A subtle fondness hides under the growling bat, as the hero swirls around to face it.

"Hey, B." he steps on the gargoyle as the other comes close to it as well. "Happy Valentine's."

"I told you not to wander into my city like that." lifting an eyebrow, the bat claims with his arms crossed over his chest. His gauntlets are dirty, as if he's just out of some punching and kicking criminals. Superman's sapphire eyes meet the cowl lenses with awkwardness as he fidgets with the last box.

It is black and wrapped with a bow with yellow hearts. It's no bigger than his two hands, but it feels like holding his own heart as he sticks it out for his best friend to grasp.

As Batman does so, his face twitches almost unnoticeably for anyone who isn't as close to the man as Superman is. He opens it slowly and gives into the urge to smile, a light smirk pulled on the edge of his lips.

"You shouldn't have." the Knight jokes, lifting up the silly plushies gifted by his friend. It's a Batman and a Superman plushie, but the man soon notices that they are united by some sewn strings on their stubby hands. Something is embroidered on them: Super Friends. The Bat can't help but chuckle.

"I know it's corny, but I thought it was fitting." the kryptonian approaches even more, his grin brighter than the sun itself. Batman traces over the message with his dark gloves, feeling how fresh and homemade these are compared to the rest of the plushies' sews.

He closes the gap between their faces, two figures on the inky skyline professing their closeness to each other. He hadn't even glanced at the clearly bought cards that said "you are my hero" and "be my Valentine".

#i wrote this out of boredom #clark seems like the type that gifts his friends on valentine's too #superman #dc #batman #dc comics #superbat #justice league #superman x batman #batman x superman #mini fic #superbat ficlet #superbat fic #i might draw these later

[fortheb0ys]

Nolan's a stupid bitch. I want him to sit on my face with some random Konni solider bouncing on my cock. Eating out Nolan till he's a sobbing mess. I want him embarrassed for being such a slut, for liking his ass ate by a man lower in rank.

I want Makarov to walk in and stop dead in his tracks. I want him off to the side palming the bulge in his pants, wishing it was him. Ordering the other soldier to get off of you. He'd throw him off and beat him within an inch of his life all while painfully hard. Getting harder with each punch or kick.

You can't see much as Nolan grids harder on your face, his moans now louder. The fucker's getting off but hearing his commander beat a guy to death. You shove you tongue in deeper as he cums on your chest. He's shaking from his orgasm but doing stop grinding, quickly getting hard, enjoying the painful overstimulatiom. Even as he comes down from his high he eyes never leave Makarov.

Once it's seems like the solider is dead, you hear Makarov sign as relexs and you see a devilish smirk on his face. You feel your neglect cock jump at the sight.

Nolan leans forward taking your cock in his mouth. Multitasking between grinding against your face and taking you fully.

Now you have a complete view of Makarov, who's bottom layer of clothing is now discarded.

He's bent over a small dresser, his back facing away from you and Nolan. He's covered in blood, the soldier's body at his feet.

Makarov reaches behind himself, working himself open with blood as a lubricant. You twitch again and Nolan let's out a moan that sends electricity through you.

After what feels like an eternity but is only a couple of minutes, Makarov walks over to the two sinful forms. A slight shake in his steps and his cock standing at full attention. A feared men losing his composure as he's anticipating getting fucked by one of his men. It was such a turnon that you had to well everything in your body not to cum down Nolan's throat.

Makarov gave a hard slap against the back of Nolan's head.

"Get the fuck up." Makarov said with a sneer.

Nolan not wanting to share the same fate as the solider pushed himself off your cock. A trail of saliva webs from his lips to your head.

Makarov is now lining himself to fuck himself on your cock. He grips your thigh trying to steady himself. You can feel the still warm blood of the soldier smear on your skin.

You could feel a wetness on your cock. Makarov tore himself, now he's bleeding on your cock. A few minutes of prep wasn't enough to handle to your girth. That didn't stop him from taking what he wanted from you. Immediately after his ass reached your balls, he began bouncing on your cock.

Makarov throws his head back as his eyes closed, just soaking in the painful stretch. The pain and pleasure mix together as one. Makarov couldn't have one without the other. You felt so good inside him. He wanted to keep you locked up, hard and ready for him at anytime.

Once his head cleared, he opened his eyes. He found himself disgusted being greeted by Nolan's face,his eyes blown in pleasure. He was still grinding on you, so close to getting off again. Makarov now angry that his view of the man pleasuring him was obscured by his second in command.

He grabs Nolan's throat, surprising the other as he stopped moving against you. Makarov brings his face close to him. Nolan can see the anger burn in his eyes and begin shaking, not from the orgasm this time.

"Get the fuck off of him. I want to be the only one he see." Makarov gives Nolan's throat a hard squeeze and throws him off of you.

Happy he now be the only man you can see, Makarov resumes his movements. He looks good and wants to put on a proformance, show you he's better than stupid little Nolan.

His muscler legs flex as he moves powerfully on your cock. He looks like he should be a porn star more than a war criminal. Like he was made to take cock than give order.

Something about having a powerful man ride you like he was born to, knowing full he could order his men to kill you or do it himself, was making it ten times more sexy. He'd never do it though. He would never be able to find someone who fucked him like you.

Your hands tightly grip his waist, pulling him down to meet your thrusts. His tight squeeze you so well. He felt even better than Nolan. Whose ass was looser from all the time he's fingered himself as he sucked you off while you were cleaning your weapon. You'd hold the gun to his temple and threatened to blow his brains off if he didn't get you off quickly.

The quiet sound of moaning brought you out of thought. Looking over to the source of the noise you see the solider still bearly alive, watching fearfully as the man who beat him ride you like he did nothing.

Makarov left him alive just enough to make him watch. The sick bastard. His cock dripped precum as he became turnon by the soldier's dying breaths.

To the man's left, Nolan had proped himself against the walls, stroking himself as he watched you and Makarov. The sound of their moans mixed with the soldier's last breaths filled the room.

They'd both cum as he watches the light fade from the man's eyes. Makarov lefted himself off your cock panting. He was pleased how much his body ached.

Cum and blood leaked out his throbbing hole.

Reaching down to scoop up the mixture, he rubbed it between his fingers before bringing it to his lips to suck it off. While he did it he made eye contact with you. You unwavering at his heavy glaze, feeling nk threat. He enjoyed it too much to kill you.

"You're mine. Only mine." Makarov growled as you pulled you into a rough kiss. You tasted yourself and dead man's blood on his tongue.

After that you had become Makarov's favourite little solider. You'd get special treatment. More money than you'd ever need. You just had to pleasure Makarov whenever and however he wanted.

Nolan nor anyone was allowed to touch you. You belonged souly to Makarov. He'd let Nolan watch, allowing him to get off while you fucked Makarov on Nolan's desk.

Anyone who didn't respect that rule would be found dead shortly after. Usually Makarov would make you fuck him in front of his dying victims, just to show them one last time what they could never have.

#call of duty x male reader #call of duty x reader #x reader #x male reader #vladimir makarov #vladimir makarov x male reader #andrei nolan #andrei nolan x male reader #bottom character #top reader #x top male reader #x top reader #call of duty mw3 x male reader

[celaenaeiln]

do you ever think about how canonically in the batman v superman movie/universe, dick grayson is the dead robin and bruce never picked up another kid which eventually led to him killing superman?

YES?! YES! YESS!!!!

If Dick were to die, Bruce would completely break. He wouldn't just stop at killing villains - hell no - he would start killing heroes too.

All that's going through his head is that no one deserves to exist if Dick is gone.

And knowing me, I will always gladly provide the evidence.

In the comics when Dick got shot, Bruce's world imploded.

He felt such a strong rage, he kinda lost it. He flew to another country, defeated assassins, and trucked through the freezing blizzard in Russia to get to KG Beast.

Batman (2016) Issue #56

The utter, undiluted rage on his face.

Batman (2016) Issue #56

He lost communication with Alfred. He's completely on his own but nothing will stop him in his crusade to avenge Dick.

He finds the assassin and they have a massive fight. KG Beast is actually one of the highest paid killers in the world. Him, Lady Shiva, Deathstroke, Deadshot, and someone else are the top 5 of the villain world and Batman almost loses until-

Batman (2016) Issue #57

He shoots a grapple gun into KG Beast's face! He breaks him. He leaves him paralyzed.

His horror at what the Joker has done to Barbara is gone in the face of his hatred for what happened to Dick.

Batman (2016) Issue #57

Batman willingly and knowingly paralyzed someone despite knowing the cost. That's how much he hated him. But you think it stops here? This is just the tip of the iceberg.

Batman (2016) Issue #57

And this is where it all goes to hell.

Batman, the vigilante who beat his own son for killing criminals, leaves this criminal for the dead.

The Gotham commissioners talk about it

Batman (2016) Issue #60

Forget Batman. JTTF stands for Joint Terrorism Task Force. They actually considered a hit on Nightwing an act of terrorism.

That's how much the world loves Nightwing.

The moment KG Beast shot Nightwing, he became the Nation's Public Enemy Number One.

Commissioner Grogan hates KG Beast so much for what he did, he can't even bring himself to say the man's name, too revolted by his existence. Gotham hates the guy more than they hate the Joker.

Batman (2016) Issue #60

Commissioner Gordon offers some hope that maybe Batman knew but Commissioner Grogan - he just says maybe. I don't know, it's possible but - to which Gordon just stays silent. They both know what happened and what Batman did but confirming it out loud? Batman's not supposed to kill.

So Batman left KG Beast to die but Bane? The one who ordered the hit? He-

Batman (2016) Issue #59

And when Gordon tries to stop him-

Batman (2016) Issue #59

He. Punches. Gordon.

He hurts his friend and ally. The man who helped him the night his parents were murdered. He punched for his pain over Dick.

This is where it all connects to the Superman vs Batman movie. If Dick were to die, Bruce would kill his own allies in the end. He would raze the world to the ground.

In the comics, Dick's death is the turning point for Batman (2016). After this he enters a series of nightmares where his brain turns a nightmare of Selina dying to be exactly reminiscent of what happened to Dick, and even though Dick lived, Bruce can't let that go. Then the fight with Bane who targeted Dick solely because of his importance to Dick, and then the Joker War where the Joker tried to use Dick because of his importance to Bruce, and the Gotham War where Dick thrashing him was Bruce's breaking point from his toxic self and finally self-realization.

Damian once said Dick leaving to become Nightwing caused Bruce to lose his moral compass, and that's even more true now. He's breaking enemies and allies left and right just because Dick almost died.

Imagine what would happen if Dick really did.

#dick grayson #nightwing #bruce wayne #batman #commissioner gordon #Commissioner grogan? #i forget his name #robin #superman vs batman movie #cl anon asks #thanks for the ask!

[cthulhusstepmom]

It's dark in the cellar, has been since they were tossed down here however many days ago. Hard to tell time without regular meals. Completely windowless, there's no place to spend his usual half hour basking under the sun. It had been a matter of hours before his coldblooded body had started to slow in the cool subterranean temperatures. He'd tried to keep it to himself, deal with it quietly, but there's no way to hide it from Gid, steadfast loyal Gid. Kremy had found his sluggish form gathered unceremoniously close to the living furnace that is his right hand man.

The heat may have stabilized his body temperature but it would do nothing to improve his mood(well maybe just a little bit it's hard to be too miserable when you're so nice and warm no matter the dire circumstances). Gideon took care of light well enough too, illuminating a circle around them with dancing warm firelight, though that was extinguished as soon as Kremy saw it start to waver and flicker, can't allow his partner in crime to burn himself out now can he? And so they sit in an almost peaceful silence, have done for who knows how long.

"Y'know it's not the worst bind we've gotten ourselves into. The gang will be along soon enough to bust down the door." Gid pauses in thought. "Probably not Twigsy. Or Frosty. Or Gricko unless he's a beasty. Probably down to Torbek to do the door busting come to think of it."

Kremy grunts noncommittally.

"Ah don't be like that, can't be worse than the time we had to climb out of the window of that inn."

"The snake oil heist on the western bank?"

"Nah the one with the innkeepers daughter, Felicity? Franny?"

He remembers that particular scrap well, if only because of the god awful wig.

"Felicia. How that veil covered my snout I will never rightly know."

Gideon snorts.

"Oh yeah. Sure would've been nice to know Gricko was an ordained minister before hand but it's not the first time we've been married."

Kremy hums. "Can't say it's the worst contract I've signed."

The warm body next to him rolls with deep, hearty laughter. The room goes silent for another spell before Kremy sighs.

"I dunno Gid, you ever get the feeling that we've taken it too far? Finally poked the bear that's gonna rip our throats out?"

"Nah man, I know you'll get us out of anything 'fore it gets too serious. Even if we end up knee deep in Fae tomfoolery. And I'll punch any bear that tries to bite us square in the body till it dies, no problemo." He pauses. "I trust you Kremy Lecroux."

That knocks the speech right off of his tongue.

Trust.

On a conceptual level he got that there was some form of reliance between the two of them, and sure some trust if you had to put a non-ironic label on it. He knows that Gideon cares for him, has stated it on many occasions in many different ways. And if you had to be so crass as to put it into words, of course he cares for Gid too, wouldn't have bothered keeping him around this long if he hadn't(lord knows the food bill would be enough to sway his opinion if he wasn't entirely too attached by now).

But trust?

Trusting Kremy Lecroux is a bad idea on any number of levels. He's a cheat by profession and a liar by lifestyle. Hell he's sold the souls of those around him in exchange for power more than once. There's nothing worth trusting in him, he's a coldblooded criminal and he's never gonna change, not for anybody. And here Gid is announcing it with his full chest. It's one of those things that's so endearing about him, he never holds back; Gideon Coal has never made a promise he doesn't fully mean. But since he's a man of contracts and business dealings he at least wants to give him a fair shot, a head start, a warning to keep that fiery heart close.

"You sure about that Gid? Those kinds of words have a power to em you know that."

"100% man, I'll follow you to the end of the world."

Kremy struggles to get air into his lungs, it takes a minute, two. When he finally gets enough to speak, it's frustrated and tinged with melancholy.

"Well I'll gladly let you do just that, if we ever get out of this fucking place."

"Hey." Kremy offers no response. "C'mon man don't be that way, the crew are all out there figuring their way in as we speak, fact I can smell the Torbek already."

He says nothing.

"I know what'll cheer you up."

A large, warm hand cups the bottom of his snout, gently directing his face up and to the side. Before he can think to protest, his eyes are drawn to the sudden lick of flame dancing on the tip of Gideon's finger. Not unlike when he lights cigarettes for him, except now he's pressing the pad of the digit to a small twig from the rocky floor until it smolders dully. Blowing on it, Gideon brings the small stick towards his face. It's warm but not uncomfortably so (he'd never had a doubt in his mind that Gid would hurt him). Carefully, precisely, with hands steady from working on the delicate innards of machines he can't begin to comprehend, Gideon draws the ashen tip of the stick across his upper lip in two swooping lines.

"There you already look more like yourself!" He proclaims proudly.

And god if he can't help the smile that breaks across his face.

"You're a crazy son of a bitch Gideon Coal, you know that?"

"Been told once or twice." he chuckles.

#“Gid when we walk outta here I need you to go first.” “Why?” “Cause you're my light at the end of the tunnel. Always will be.” #Once Upon a Witchlight amiright? #god im obsessed its bad #theres not NEARLY enough fan content for this and it is is a CRIME #to any of my followers or mutuals: if you like banter if you like funnies if you like gay subtext if you like found family #i am BEGGING you to check out once upon a witchlight and gush with me #its done by Legends of Avantris on youtube and twitch #moustache moment in ep.26 my beloved #once upon a witchlight #kremy lecroux #gideon coal #coalecroux #legends of avantris

[folkookie97]

❝ karma is coming ❞ — jjk

— SUMMARY: ❝After feeling used by you, Jungkook wants to bring some chaos in your boyfriend's life. Karma is coming and there's nothing Jungkook does better than revenge.❞

— PAIRING: punk!Jungkook x preppy!female reader

— TYPE: suggestive, slight dark | criminal!au

— WORD COUNT: 1,225

— WARNINGS: Past/Secret relationship, Cheating, Criminal!Jungkook, Curses, Argument, Jungkook has a gang, Slight!Toxic Relationship, Open ending, Jungkook wants revenge (but never hurting you), Yoongi is Jungkook's best friend, Mentioned Jack Harlow, Reader is a preppy girl and dates a rich boy (maybe a relationship of convenience)

— NOTES: HEEEEYYY who wants a scenario inspired by the "3D" MV teaser?

— RELEASE DATE: September 28, 2023

— CROSSPOSTING: ao3

"So tell me, little princess.... what I needa do to have one more chance with you?" Jungkook walked at you the moment your feet turned the street corner and you were forced to pass by the dubious quality restaurant.

Like every Friday afternoon, at the same time, Jungkook came to you with his typical bunny smile and sparkling eyes. An expression so cute and for a few seconds it made you forget the big problem behind it.

The perfect mask to disguise a messy and broken soul.

"Jungkook… I'm late." You warned, trying to walk faster to avoid him, but failing miserably when your high heels started to hurt your feet.

Ignoring the boy who competed with him in an amateur chess match, Jungkook got up from the low-budget chair and reached you at almost the speed of light.

You wanted cursing not only your high heels that hurt every inch of your feet, but you also wanted punching Jungkook in his face for his persistence on coming closer to and for daring to look down at your entire body.

"You look really hot today." He smirked, his impure thoughts very clear while his eyes darkened and he ran his tongue between his own lips. "Hotter than ever."

The same compliments as always. The same character flaw and red flags.

"You've been more creative." You rolled your eyes, allowing yourself pausing your walk to avoid any more pain in your skin. If your quick mental calculation was right, you would still have a few minutes to rest when you got home.

"I'm sorry, little princess. But I guess this isn't a good time to say that I wanna see your ass in motion, riding my dick like a 3D video." Jungkook pointed behind him, where his blond and curly-haired friend was watching us with a curiosity and fun mix. "You know… not around Jack at least."

You just rolled your eyes again, trying your best to not be rude and give Jack your middle finger or getting arrested for hitting Jungkook's nose.

As if he was thinking about something, Jungkook poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, nibbling his side piercing in his mouth right after. You saw a flash of sadness pass across the boy's face and you ended up giving into slight worry.

Even though you shouldn't.

"Are you okay?"

His dark eyes lit up again and a regret hit you hard when you saw his dirty smirk return.

"Wow! That's the first time my little princess has worried about me since we broke up."

"I'm not your little princess. And we're not broke up." You snorted and crossed your arms, deciding to walk and do it faster than the Korean man in the black sweatshirt and white stripes. An impossible task since Jungkook would be able to catch up to you immediately even if you were trying hard running away from him.

Jungkook chuckled when he noticed your efforts to free yourself from that talk and from his pathetic praises.

"So we're still together?"

"We never even dated. To be honest I just needed something new since my relationship was boring."

Another scoff left Jungkook's lips and you knew you reached very dangerous ground. When it came to his pride, Jungkook could be a little shit. Hitting his inflated ego was as damaging and dumb like hitting your head against a wall a hundred times.

It was like picking a fight with the Devil and then begging for forgiveness and mercy.

But fate was in his favor. Jungkook would never physically hurt you. Even if his life depended on it.

"So you used me to satisfy your horny that your rich shitty boyfriend wasn't interested?" He stopped walking and you imitated him, shocked not only by his bitter words but also by the hurt following it. "I was just a distraction for a preppy girl with a dick-starved little pussy? Just because her boyfriend was on vacation?"

Your eyes widened and your hands itched to tear out Jungkook's eyes, who was now looking at you with the angrier face possible. His eyebrows furrowed into a frown so deadly it made you feel tiny.

"FUCK YOU! You knew everything from the beginning." You shouted not caring about the people around the street who were entertained by the situation unfolding.

"I thought we'd at least keep fucking around. BUT GUESS WHAT?" It was his turn to shouts. "You seem a lot more interested in being a cockslut and just use your pussy in exchange for expensive gifts from that rich bastard guy."

"At least he has a company that makes a lot of money. And you? You're nothing more than a punk boy who leads your useless life stealing people and picking fights with other gangs out there." You pointed your index finger at him as you shouted the insults pained in your stomach. "I'd rather be a cockslut to someone who has something to provide me with than having a relationship with a man who could be arrested at any moment. You're just a futureless criminal."

No caring about an answer, you gathered all your body efforts and following on your way. Jungkook didn't join you to continue the swearing match and you were relieved for that. You were no longer in the argue mood. You just wanted to get home and cry because of your anger.

It didn't take long for Jungkook returned to the chair where he was sitting before. To his surprise, Jack wasn't sitting there anymore, the place now being used by one of his other friends.

Yoongi had a freshly put out cigarette still in his mouth and a thoughtful look. Jungkook knew his best friend as well as the back of his own hand. That look just would mean one thing; quick reflections.

"What's your great idea?" Jungkook asked him, without beating around the bush due to his bad mood about the previous talk with you.

Chuckled with the cigarette stuck in his teeth, Yoongi used his left hand to brush away his dark hair falling on his face while pulling out his cell with the others free fingers. Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows when the long-haired boy showed him the talk content on the screen. Reading some messages, Jungkook saw that the other boys in his gang also looked interested in Yoongi and Jack's sudden plans.

A wicked smirk took over Jungkook and everything made more sense. Jack's sudden departure to get his van, Yoongi's arrival and even the older man's thoughtful look.

Jungkook felt a heat rise up his back almost immediately. His excitement and enthusiasm for the coming chaos increased the temperature of the sunny street even more. Without blinking, he ripped off the sweatshirt covering his torso, the black tank top underneath it allowing his tattooed arm drawn glances from the girls walking through the neighborhood.

Ignoring the other people's whispers, Jungkook turned to Yoongi with a "thirst for revenge" look. His pretty face doesn't justice to the darkness in his wicked eyes.

"Well… we needa stop at my house first to get my hammer and call (Y/N). I think she'll like to know about our friendly visit to her boyfriend's company."

Yoongi nodded, chuckling and patting Jungkook's shoulder twice. "That's it, little boy. Tell her karma is coming."

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x female reader #jungkook 3d #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts x female reader #bts x reader #bts drabble #jeon jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook ff #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts oneshot #bts x you #jungkook smut #jungkook au #bts au #jungkook bts #bts ff #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook ff

[disniq]

The thing is, I actually think it's a super interesting angle to look at the intersection of trauma and mental illness and vigilantism and coping mechanisms with Jason's character.

But, for me, if you want to seriously ask at what point does Jason need therapy more than he needs the vigilante lifestyle it's not Red Hood Jason you should be looking at. Red Hood Jason was literally murdered and the mysteriously resurrected. That's not something you can therapy your way out of! That's something that no amount of talking will ever help you understand, because it's a completely incomprehensible event!

No, if anyone needs therapy it's 12 year old Jason.

It's 12 year old Jason, who has poverty trauma and homelessness trauma and prison system trauma and parentification trauma and drug related trauma and, depending on your reading, potentially sexual trauma.

It's 12 year old Jason, who is taken in by Bruce - a man who is *also* severely traumatised (in extremely different ways) and chooses to dress up as a Bat and punch people about it instead of seeking healthy coping strategies.

It's 12 year old Jason, who Bruce decides - without psychiatric training or so much as a second opinion - needs the same outlet that "helped" Bruce and "helped" Dick.

And by the time aditf rolls around, Bruce is maybe just realising that he's made a mistake. But it's too late, because for two years he's told this child - a child who arguably feels indebted to him, a child who is extremely isolated and had very few if any other trusted adults to talk to - that violence and avoidance is how you deal with emotions.

I think that's fascinating to think about!

That Bruce's own failure to process his trauma left him blind to what Jason might actually have benefited from! That if Bruce had noticed Jason struggling earlier, if he'd reacted differently or explained himself better in aditf, Jason might not have felt the need to travel around the world alone looking for a woman he'd never met and only just learned about!

That if *Bruce* had been healthier, had been to therapy instead of throwing all his energy into vigilantism, none of this might have happened!

Reframe Red Hood Jason as a tragedy of Bruce's own making, not because of the classist bullshit that Jason was always going to end up a criminal and Bruce failed to stop that, but because Bruce's terrible coping mechanisms became *Jason's* terrible coping mechanisms and nobody likes to see the worst parts of themselves in the mirror.

#jason todd #bruce wayne #they're mirrors! you can't say jason should get therapy and quit vigilantism and nit say the same about bruce! #like i fully understand that the comics can't take this angle because that would mean accepting that batman makes mistakes #that he's not always right and correct and fucking infallible #but this idea is so prevalent in fandom and i just. c'mon guys. don't do DCs victim blaming for them #if you're going to say Jason's lifestyle choices are self harming you have to acknowledge where he learned them #my meta

[maitanii]

[BONTEN HEADCANONS]

AN: I love Bonten, and I wish we could have had more info about the organization. But I know how sad it must have been to everyone there. They were empty and no one accomplished their dreams. These are just my thoughts and headcanons about them <3

my masterlist!

- Ran doesn't sleep as much as he used to. In fact, he usually sleeps around 3 or 4 hours per night. The slightest sound makes his body be on full alert mode. The first thing he does when he wakes up is text Rindou.

- Kokonoi doesn't sleep. He can't. Sanzu gave him some pills so he could just take a nap for 1 hour but he refused. His nightmares are way too real and he knows if he closes his eyes, he will have one again.

- Rindou lives under Ran's apartment. They both decided that they wanted independence but still keeping the security of being close to each other. At first he thought that it was the best thing ever, but after getting inside of Bonten... it wasn't that great. (he sleeps in Ran's couch from time to time).

- Kakucho's apartment is completely empty. He doesn't need any decoration or extra furniture. His futon, a bathroom and a kitchen is all he needs. He doesn't even know who he is anymore, why decorate a bunch of white walls?

- Kokonoi lives close to a shop called D&D motors. What a coincidence.

- I said it before but Mochi is the only executive I can picture marrying someone (maybe it's because I don't know too much about him). He lives with his wife in a penthouse full of security cameras. Sometimes he can sense the sadness in his partner's eyes and thinks about leaving them so they can live a happy life. But now, they're fully into the criminal path in life, and there's no turning back. They know who they are.

- Sanzu doesn't have a daiy routine. Most of his days are a blur and he's only conscious after he kills someone. And its not because he's high all time, but because he disassociates a lot from reality. Sometimes he can't distinguish if something happens in real life or if it was all in his mind. Mikey slaps him in the face when he sees that he's not here, and Rindou brings him a glass of water and something to eat.

- Aside from Mochi, they don't have a love life. Sure they have fallen love or had a crush, but at the end of the day, they're still the same guys who have a sense of loyalty and will to protect who they love. So they chose to not commit to anyone. It's better that way.

- Rindou shared some nights with a woman some 5 years younger than him. She used to make him food and offer him to take some leftovers when he left. He realized he fell in love when he spent a whole night at her place cuddling and watching movies. He finally felt the same joy he did when he was 17. So after he left her apartment the next morning, he broke his phone so she wouldn't contact him again. And he never turned back.

- Kakucho used to frequent a bar in Tokyo because he had business to do with some big guys who owned the place. It was all going according to the plan. But then he saw a waitress being harassed by a man while he was having a conversation and he lost all the concentration. Excusing himself from the table, he went straight to the man and punched him in the face. The girl looked at him with teary eyes and thanked him a thousand times. After he returned to the table, he gave some extra money to the owners of the bar so they can free that girl from the job. He left the place after making the deal that Mikey ordered to him and never returned.

- Ran fell in love with a single mother and the moment he met her kid, he knew it was over. Either he left in that moment, or he stayed with them (and made their lives more complicated). He left an insanely amount of cash with them to pay everything until the kid was 18 and never looked back. Sometimes he lies awake at night wondering about what could have been.

- I'm sorry but Mikey is a virgin. I can't picture him having a high libido while being in such a depressing state.

- Sanzu... he's complicated. Sure he hooks up with some random people from time to time but he thinks he has never fallen in love. And if he did, he wasn't aware that was love.

- Kokonoi only sleeps with blond people. He searches for someone that's not here anymore, but maybe if he drinks more wine, he'll be able to see her face and hear her voice again.

- About their accidents and close to death experiences, they all care about each other in some kind of level. Mikey made clear that their interests come first, but they can't help it. So when someone is shot, even if they have to continue the mission, they know better than to leave them to die. (I don't think this applies to Takeomi tho)

- Rindou was once shot twice while he was on a mission with Kakucho and Kokonoi. They both knew they couldn't leave him to die. Kakucho threw his body over his shoulder and ran to the car while Kokonoi made sure no one was following them. They don't know how they did it, but Rindou arrived alive to the headquarters. Ran didn't speak that night. After he made sure Rindou will be okay, he went to see Kakucho and Koko and bowed his body as low as he could.

#tokyo revengers #sanzu #rindou haitani #haruchiyo #ran haitani #mikey #tokyo revengers headcanons #kakucho #ran x reader #rindou x reader #sanzu x reader #kakucho x reader #bonten #—martha writes

[holylulusworld]

The widow (2)

Summary: You trust no one. Not since they got your husband killed.

Pairing: TFaTW!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions death of a loved-one, mentions of s miscarriage (no description), the reader is under protection, bitchy reader, arguments, grumpy Bucky, angst, grief

The widow masterlist

The Widow (1)

Over the next few days, you stayed in your bedroom. The confrontation with Bucky, and defending your dead husband drained all the energy you had left from your body.

You lost your appetite and didn’t even try to get up from bed to have a shower. It’s not a secret that you reek, and need to clean yourself up but you just can’t find the strength to do more than mourn the loss of Ransom all over again.

“She didn’t leave the room for days?” Sam throws his hands up. “I know you and her were butting heads from the moment you met, but we are responsible for her. Y/N had nothing to do with her husband’s crimes. She’s an innocent victim and lost more than her husband that day.”

“What else did she lose, huh?” Bucky huffs. “The money? Or all the shiny things. Maybe her pretty dresses and expensive shoes.”

“Bucky, why are you so angry at her?” Sam questions. “From the very beginning, you attacked her without a reason.”

“Because she’s a spoiled brat and cries over her criminal husband. I lost people too – good people. People who protected people all her life!”

“Her husband was a good person too,” Sam gets louder and starts to argue with his hands. “He did everything to protect his wife. Ransom Drysdale committed most of the crimes he got arrested for after they threatened his wife.”

“That’s what he told the cops.” Bucky sneers. He still doesn’t believe you and your husband got tricked by his business partners.

“Bucky, I know blaming you for your past was a low blow,” Sam’s features soften, and he puts his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “But man, she’s an innocent bystander, and she’s grieving. Y/N did not only lose her husband that day, but her unborn child too. Her future got ripped out of her hands by the people claiming to protect them.”

Bucky feels like someone punched him in the guts. He looks at Sam, feeling like a monster. “Her baby?”  

“Ransom protected her with his body, but she still got shot,” Sam lowers his voice. “One of the bullets hit her belly and…”

“She lost the baby,” Bucky whispers, as he looks anywhere but at Sam. “You should’ve told me so, Sam.”

“Why? Only because she lost her baby doesn’t make her a saint,” Sam can’t help but snap at his friend. “I didn’t think her losses would stop you from blaming her for all the things happening to her.”

“Sam, I’m not like that.” Bucky tries to argue. “ You know that.”

“Yeah?” Sam cocks his head and looks Bucky up and down. “How about you prove you are not a stubborn and unfair bastard.”

“I still don’t like her,” Bucky points his index finger at Sam. “But I’ll try to do better.”

Bucky enters your room after he knocks a few times. You didn’t tell him to get fucked as usual and he’s worried you tried to escape or worse, hurt yourself.

“I’m coming in,” he says and opens the door. Bucky finds it unlocked because you didn’t want him to tear the door down for a third time. “I hope you are dressed.”

He waits for a heartbeat, and another before finally stepping inside the room. 

“Sam is downstairs and needs to talk to you. They will be here in a few days to hear your statement.”

Bucky walks toward the bed, finding you in the same position as last time he sneaked inside your room to check if you are still alive.

“Come on, don’t be a brat, redress, and come downstairs for breakfast.”

You don’t react. All you do is stare at the wall and wallow in your pain.

“G-et fucked,” your voice cracks, but you at least tried to get rid of him. 

“There she is,” he says and walks around the bed to crouch down right in front of you. Bucky frowns deeply. You are still staring at the wall. “You need to get up and have a shower.” He scrunches up his nose. “When was the last time you showered?”

“Get fucked.”

“Doll, that’s not what’s going to happen,” he carefully moves closer to drag the blanket off your body. You shiver and wrap your arms around yourself. “You need a shower and food. If you don’t get out of the bed yourself, I’ll grab you and put you under the spray.”

You huff. “Just let me rot in dirt and smell. You don’t give a fuck about me.”

“Yeah, but you smell bad, and I don’t want Sam to get mad at me,” he smirks when you turn your back on him. “Oh, we are on cold-shoulder terms already. Good. That’s progress.”

You don’t like that he’s talkative today. Something must’ve happened, and you wonder what your prison guard is up to today. “Let me sleep.”

“You slept enough over the last days,” he says and grasps for you. You’re too tired and weak to fight him. You end up in his arms. 

“Let me down,” you say, and wiggle in his grip, but you don’t stand a chance against a super-soldier. Bucky carries inside the bathroom, laughing as you throw insults at him. “Let me down! I won’t tell you twice!”

“You already did, doll.” He carefully puts you on your feet but blocks your path. “You’ve got two options. Number one, I’ll leave the bathroom and you have a shower. Number two, you act like a brat, and I’ll scrub your smelly ass clean.”

“You wouldn’t dare putting your hands on me!” Your nostrils flare, and you’re about to attack a much stronger opponent.

“Have a shower, and I’ll change the sheets. Sam brought you fresh clothes and toiletries.” Bucky turns to leave. “I’ll give you fifteen minutes to get clean, or I’ll take down the door and scrub you clean.”

“Get fucked,” you weakly reply. Today is not the best day for a fight or any kind of interaction with other people. You only want to go back to bed and hide from the world.

Bucky glances at you one last time before leaving the bathroom. Something seems to be off with you, but he doesn’t have the time nor the patience to ask you what’s wrong.

“Y/N, hi,” Sam walks toward you to tell you about the latest development in your husband’s case. “How have you been?”

You shrug and walk past Sam.

“You could at least answer his damn question.” Bucky curses himself for his slip of the tongue. He promised Sam to try better and just started a fight again.

You yawn and walk toward the small kitchenette. “He’s still my prison guard, and my husband is still dead. Everything remains the same. What about you? Any plans on killing me yet?”

Bucky watches you grab a bottle of water and an apple before you walk back upstairs to hide in your bedroom. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Bucky frowns deeply. He was waiting for a snarky comeback or a witty comment coming from you.

“Bucky, leave her alone,” Sam shakes his head. “Today is her wedding anniversary. It’s the worst day to mess with her. Give her time and space.”

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #The widow (2) #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n

[oddballwriter]

Dwelling in the Night

Series Masterlist

Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4

Summary: There's a new vigilante figure out on the streets at night. And there's also a new neighbor on the same floor as Steven and the rest of the boys.  

Warnings: Mentions of blood, dead bodies, crime, all that. Reader is a vampire so it's implied that they consume blood and all that. Also, Y/N kills, but the act is never actually written or depicted. Steven being dumb and clueless for reasons of the plot. This is mostly Steven-centric and Marc-centric but Jake's here too but doesn't really do anything for the plot other than simply have some lines that progress the plot. Gender-neutral reader with they/them being used for them. Heads up, it does get a bit confusing in one part but I think it's fine.  

Author’s Snip: I wrote this in one sitting and it's currently 1:30 am. Honestly, anything to stall my studying for an exam for one of my classes. I wrote this fucking unit of a shot involving my love for vampire Y/N's just to do it.

Notes: Please appreciate vampire reader. We need more of that in the x reader community. I as a reader would love for that to happen more often. Thank you.

Word count: 2,600~

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy!

The system took pride in their patrolling. Even if it was still doing work for Khonshu, they were still free in what they did when coming across a criminal rather than being yapped at. It brought a sort of satisfaction of taking, or at least scaring, another threat off the street. But things were getting weird, and slightly disturbing.

Criminals had started to drop like flies with a theme of them being found in dark alleys with bitten throats, but there was never any blood to be found that made sense with their wounds. Just their pale corpses with looks of fear or shock in their glazed-over eyes.

Jake admired the simple tactic of scaring off would be scum by the fear of being the next person in the obituaries, but he had to admit that the method of doing that was unsettling. He just killed them and let whoever came across the scene be shucked with cleaning the mess.

Marc worried that this other party wasn't actually someone necessarily on "the right side" and this was an actual threat to the public that just so happened to have a streak going with having their victims coincidentally being criminals.

It wasn't until they came across two cases that proved that worry otherwise.

The first was a girl they found running around the alleys in a panic. When they went to her and asked if she was okay, she was babbling about something in her panting. "There was this guy! He dragged me into the alleys, he held up a knife to me and was threatening me!" she explained pointing in the general direction, but she kept talking "But this... in the shadows, there were these two glowing lights, like eyes! And this person came out from there and grabbed them." she said. "I just ran off I didn't know where to go! They were blocking off the way to the street." she exclaimed.

It was actually Steven who was fronting then. He helped her calm down and led her out of the alley system and back in to get the perp and maybe help whoever got him away from the poor woman. But when he found the guy, he was like all the others he and the system had heard about.

Dead with a bitten throat, fear on their face, and hardly any blood in the pool for it to make sense.

The second was with Marc himself. He dropped in on a duo of muggers who cornered a young man, getting a left hook in on one of them. But his buddy ran off into the dark and dank alleys to get away. Marc needed to do a few more punches to get the first down and out before chasing after the second, but he swore he could've seen a figure follow after them in the corner of his vision.

He heard the sound of what must have been the guy's scream as soon as Marc moved on.

But when Marc got there, he was already on the wet brick floor writhing and grabbing at his neck. He saw them. A figure in the shadows where the backlights couldn't reach to show them in all say for a silhouette, had ducked into another alley. "Hey!" Marc called to them before chasing after them. But when he turned the corner, they were gone, only seeing a complete dead end.

When Marc came back to the guy, he found him trying to breathe through a gargled, and bitten, throat. He tried his best to help the guy since he was still alive. Unfortunately, bites to the jugular weren't kind injuries to those who are dealt them.

🩸🩸🩸

"I don't understand," Steven mutters as Marc slides back into their flat after patrolling and finding a few more crooks who came across this other person. "Why the injuries to the neck? And how is there hardly any blood?" he questions, "There's nowhere for it to go. There's nowhere for them to go. They just come out of nowhere and pick these blokes off and leave in such a short moment.".

"I don't know. And I don't think I want to know. This freak's keeping the load easier for us by doing whatever they're doing with these guys." Marc says, emphasizing the word 'freak'. "Hey, watch who you're calling a freak, amigo. We aren't exactly normal either." Jake says, mostly joking. "Yeah, sure. But we're not the one who's having our guys come up without a drop of blood left in them." Marc defends.

A crash is heard from nearby, in the flat next door.

"The hell's going on over there?" Marc muttered to himself as a reaction to the sound, but Steven said a name almost instantly.

"Who?" Marc asked.

"It's Y/N. They're our neighbor. They moved in a few months ago." Steven answered. "I've never heard of them." Marc comments before Steven quips back with "That's because you two hardly meet anybody.".

"Give me the body for a bit. I want to check on them. That sounded like something big fell over." Steven requests. Marc shrugs and switches out after briefly instructing "Put the body to sleep when you're done.".

Steven un-summons the suit, steps out into the hallway, steps towards your door, and knocks. After a beat, the door opens enough to have your head pop through, but not enough to show the rest of your flat like a fully opened door would. Which he didn't really mind, you always did this whenever he or anyone would knock. "Hello." Steven greets you with a little smile.

You look worried at seeing him in front of you. "I heard a pretty loud noise come from your flat. Is everything okay?" Steven asked. "Yeah. I'm so sorry. I knocked over a shelf." you answer. Steven is shocked for a bit, "A shelf? My word. Are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to help you lift it back up?" Steven stresses as he moves to the side to peak into your flat to see how bad the damage is. But you quickly pull back in and tighten the width of the open door to a sliver , making him unable to see the inside with a "No!".

He pulls away, startled at the sudden reaction.

You open the door back up to step out again. "I'm sorry about that." you timidly apologize. "It's fine. I can pick it back up on my own. Thank you for offering to help and for your concern." you say. "There's some blood on your hand." Steven notices. You pull your hand behind your back at the realization. "It's fine. I'll clean it up myself." you blurt out as you go back into your flat with a quick "Good night, Steven." before closing and re-locking the door behind you, all before he can properly react.

"Good night?" Steven repeats back in confusion.

"That was weird." Marc comments, exposing that he had watched the whole thing go down. "Yeah. They... are a bit strange. They don't really come out most of the day." Steven explains. "Why were they up this late?" Jake buds in, having seen it all too. "It's nearly four in the morning and they look wide awake and aren't in any pajamas." Jake adds.

The next time Steven saw you, you were bringing a huge box into your apartment a few days after that night.

"Need help?" he asked. "Sure. It's actually really hard to drag around." you admit. As he picked up the other end of the large, and heavy, box and walked with your pace into your flat you spoke. "I'm sorry about the noise and acting weird a few nights ago. I was just embarrassed from having woken you up." you explain. Steven gently huffs, "No need to apologize. I wasn't asleep anyways. I was pulling an all-nighter like you were." Steven reassures. You look at him for a moment, "Oh right. Yeah. I do that a lot. I do better with work at night." you remark.

You two manage to get the box past some things it would have bumped, into and into the space between the space of your bedroom and living room. That's when he sees that there's no bed there in your bedroom area, glancing at the box to see a depiction of a bed frame.

"Changing furniture?" Steven asks. "Yeah. I already sold my old one." you say. Steven quarks a brow, "When? Have you had to sleep on your sofa-?" he asks as he turns towards your living room area before interrupting himself with a "Woah!".

There in the area, where a coffee table should be, was an authentic-looking coffin. "Quite the decor there." Steven comments with a breathy little chuckle. "Yeah. I like the look it had." you claim.

Looking around your flat for the first time, Steven could see it. It wasn't exactly goth per se, but there was a weirdly somber and antique look to your decor. It had that same attic look that Steven's did, but you had an attic feel of that of an abandoned house that was left for the dust bunnies to call home. Almost haunted house-esk with the draw curtains adding to it all.

"Is someone in there?" Steven jokes, mostly to himself. "No." you stutter out, "But it does still open." you mention as you walk towards it to show him by lifting the lid.

And, wow. It was real. It still had the pale pink padding and even the pillow inside of it, still pristine as ever, ignoring a couple of scratches on the outside wood.

"Impressive. How'd you even get your hands on this?" Steven asked. You thought for a moment, most likely trying to recall the answer to that question. "Some funeral places have spares that never got sold. So they sell them for a much cheaper price." you say.

Steven nodded as he took another look at the coffin.

"Well, it really is a nice touch." Steven complimented. "Thank you." you reply with a sigh.

🩸🩸🩸

Again.

And again.

One alley crawler dead and paled out after another.

Finding the bodies seemed to become a normal accordance for the boys when they were out doing their rounds around the city. Whoever this was at least started to lean the bodies against the wall after doing the deed now so that there wasn't just some corpse in the middle of the alley's street.

He was still finding the people this person 'saved' too. With them saying the same thing each time. Talking about a person in the shadows with a pair of glowing eyes being the only visible thing about them and then having gotten whatever criminal tried their luck yanked away into the said shadows with a scream echoing as the victim ran to safety.

They never see the actual person though. They don't seem to wear a costume like they do. No mask. No suit. Their only identity keeper they have being that of the shadows that exist beyond any light sources. The only sign of it being them is just the animal-like glow of their eyes. And one brutal calling card for those who came to see where they were.

Tonight was different.

Marc heard the sound of gunshots and rushed to the scene. But he found someone running for their life trying to leave already. He grabs a hold of them, thinking it was a person escaping a forceful mugging till they tried to aim a gun at him. Thankfully, he manages to subdue them.

"That thing tried to get me!" they shouted frantically as they attempted to get loose. "You gotta let me go, man. I don't want to be another body found around here." they beg.

"They tried robbing someone." a voice rings through.

Marc, and also the person he was holding down, looked towards where it came from. He notices the eyes first, with their white pearly glow surrounded by the rest of their shadowy form. The eyes almost looked like the system when they wore their suits, though it was dimmer, just enough to pierce through the darkness, and looked more like the glow was coming from the irises than the whole eye.

"I stopped them before they could pounce. This one was holding more firepower than most. I didn't want to have to risk it." the voice spoke again.

It felt a little haunting. The glow was almost disarming somehow, and their voice was calm and collected as it naturally echoed through the walls of the buildings, and sounding almost familiar. Marc stood there just staring at them till the person he was holding started thrashing harder in his hold, "Let me go, that thing's going to fucking kill me! I swear to god!" they pleaded.

"You're in his court now. You aren't my issue anymore." the silhouette says looking towards the person from where they were before looking back up at Marc.

"Sorry about me leaving my actual catches around." the silhouette apologizes. "I have nowhere to put them." they add as an explanation.

"Why kill them?" Marc questioned, speaking before really thinking. "You kill some of yours don't you, Moonknight? I don't see why you're judging me." the silhouette remarks. "I meant in the way that you do. I just kill them and leave them. You do... something to them." Marc speaks, hesitating for a second at the latter end.

The silhouette stays silent for a second seemingly striking their eyebrow from the way their eyes move. "I have reasons to do it that you probably wouldn't like to hear." they say. "We're doing the same work either way. My method is just more intense than yours tends to be." they comment before slipping back and disappearing into the shadows.

Marc calls out a "Wait!" but gets nothing in return.

He's just left alone with a scared shitless would-have-been mugger and more questions.

🩸🩸🩸

"Hey!" Steven calls out as he does a brief jog over to you in the hallway. "About time I catch you out in the day." Steven jokes. "Oh. Hello, Steven. Yeah. I needed to run some errands." you say, giving an explanation for the rare occurrence. "Good thing you've come back. It's been overcast all day and would rain at any minute." Steven comments.

"Anyways. I knocked on your door yesterday but you didn't come to the door at all." Steven mentions. "Oh. Really? I'm sorry. I'm usually asleep in the day because of my all-nighters." you claim.

"Really? You've got to be the hardest sleeper then. You're like the dead in there. I knocked hard for a while." Steven explains. "So I've been told." you nervously laugh. "You must be real tired if you usually sleep in the day then," he comments. "Yeah. But I have to deal with it." you say.

"What did you need?" you ask.

"Oh. Nothing from me. I was told to tell you, by the landlord, that there would be a check of the fire alarm system next week and that some might go off." Steven explains. "They tried to knock on your door the day before I knocked, but I guess you were asleep." Steven says. "Yeah. I probably was." you reply, "I'll send them an e-mail or something telling them about my sleep schedule." you mutter to yourself.

"Well, nice running into you. Go get yourself some rest." Steven says as he bids you goodbye by patting your shoulder. "Be sure to wrap yourself in something warm too. You're a bit cold." he adds.

#moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #moon knight #moonknight #steven grant #steven grant x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #jake lockley #vampire reader #gender neutral reader #long shot #vampire!reader

[frownyalfred]

How much violence do you think Batman should be able to get away with and still remain a hero or vigilante while also not losing his characterization?

There are times where no lives are in immediate danger and he only needs to get information but then he just casually breaks bones, effectively torturing someone. Like in the videogames Telltale Batman or the Arkham games' verse or even the movies and comics where he dishes out way more violence than necessary. That scene where he threatens to crush a guy's head with the Batmobile and actually has the car start rolling over his head, cracking it slightly. Or the interrogation of Eli in the Telltale game where Batman can pretty much brutalize and torture an already frightened criminel if the player so chooses. Or the comics, where he sometimes says he enjoys hurting criminals and sends them to the ER without a second thought.

Also, do his kids know just how brutal Bruce can be on a Tuesday just cause he feels like a criminel deserves it? After a patrol, he'll reprimand them for breaking someone's collarbone or if he thinks they took it too far even though he does that all the time. It's not like the Batkids never do it themselves, but when they do, they're mostly in extremely emotional states and not a cold clinical mindset. One could argue Jason and Cass are exessively violent too but, well, Jason is an anti-hero (or villain) and Cass is still learning how far is too far.

And if the kids didn't know/realise, what would happen if they saw a recording of Batman absolutely dismantling a criminal in a detached sort of way (maybe a rogue maybe not, whatever would be worse ig) and then having to reconcile that that's the man who's like a father to them.

It's a very interesting question, and I suspect you'll get a different answer from everyone you ask.

My take is that it comes down to two things: intention and likelihood. Bruce's line for injury/torture/death sits somewhere between probably won't kill them or cause grievous injury and could cause death or grievous injury.

Throwing a guy off a high-up roof isn't just likely to kill someone, it was likely intended to do so. As we see in Batman Begins, you can throw someone off a (low) roof and not kill them, without the intention of killing them, and without the high likelihood of the act killing them.

Breaking a man's leg for information probably won't kill him, but it could! The break could be done wrong, or heal wrong, and cause a blood clot that killed the man. But was breaking the man's leg intended to kill him? Was it done with full knowledge that the break would likely result in death? Is that something a reasonable individual can even evaluate on their own?

The argument can be made that hitting someone in the head could result in death. So is Bruce risking his no-kill rule on a technicality when he punches people into walls? Does dying from a complicated TBI years later count?

I find the branding example in BVS a fascinating discussion of this point. Bruce doesn't kill the men he brands, but he effectively sets the men up to be killed in prison. Is it the same? Does he intend for the brand to kill the men? Does he have knowledge of the likelihood of death as a result of his brand? Does Lex's meddling actually change any of that when it's revealed later?

The third thing I haven't brought up but that you did is Bruce's enjoyment/active participation in all of this. Does he hurt people because it's effective? Is it ever gratuitous? Is he detached from the suffering he causes, viewing it as a means to an end? Does Gotham play by different rules -- i.e., is torture and grievous bodily injury ever acceptable in Gotham when it wouldn't be in other cities? Is Bruce a man willing to do what it takes at the end of his rope, or is he a man who resorts to violence when there are still other viable options? Somewhere in between?

I do agree that, with the addition of Robins and other family members, the violence likely tones down unless absolutely necessary. Hurting people shouldn't be enjoyable, but it is downright painful for some people (not Bruce) to witness firsthand.

#thoughts #ramble #anon #asks #hope this helped a little #even though I mostly just asked more questions #bruce wayne #batman #dc #batfamily #dc meta #dc comics

[lynnlovesspidahman]

this is me trying.

peter parker x reader

part 2. || part 1.

masterlist.

warnings : angst, mentions of violence, swearing, lots of self-doubt (peter im sorry)

word count : 2.7k

summary : There’s always two sides to a story. An apology is put into place.

Peter felt like he was living three different lives at once.

Each taking so, so much energy every single day.

His job, an assistant for Dr. Octavius at Octavius Industries. He felt guilty for arriving late every day, and still somehow having a job.

Peter was smarter than Doc, they both knew that. So that meant he would be called to office very, very often.

Usually because of some mistake Doc had made while working on the new prototypes of prosthetic limbs.

But the pressure it brought could get to be too much sometimes. One small mistake could cost millions of lives — or dollars — if not noticed early enough.

But he knew it would help the world someday, in so many ways. The exhaustion was totally worth it.

Spider-Man. Peter had loved and genuinely enjoyed playing his alter-ego.

Constantly, day and night, he was out. Out saving people everywhere. Sure, his work wasn’t appreciated by everyone but it was 100% worth it — to him.

But Spider-Man came with considerable costs. His everlasting lack of sleep. Peter can’t remember the last time he really got his 8 hours. The bags under his eyes made that apparent enough.

The physicality of the job, how many times had he stopped a car with his bare hands? He lost count years ago.

The bruises, cuts, broken limbs, brought immense pain, even to Spider-Man. Sure, he can heal faster — a nights rest, a heating pad, and your some soup is more than enough — But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

And the emotional weight it brought.

The crimes haven’t slowed, if anything they’ve gotten much more prominent all around the city.

The overwhelming amount of times he has to swing across New York to fight off large groups of thugs has become too much.

And honestly, he’s so sick of it.

And so, Peter stopped pulling his punches as much.

The guilt didn’t come until later.

He climbed through your apartment’s window after a long, long night of patrol.

You were sitting there — unaware of his presence— watching TV, all cuddled up on the corner of the couch with your mini Spidey plush.

“Hey, beautiful.” He called out to you.

“Holy shit-” You jumped and turned around to look at him. “You can’t just pop out of nowhere like that, you scared the hell out of me.”

You got up and walked towards him, “Was patrol okay?”

“Uh, yeah it was alright, kicked my ass tonight though. I’m worn out,” He stretched his arms above his head.

“Hm. Why?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Uhm, I mean I fought bad guys all night?” He scoffed, a stupid question, he thought.

“Or was it because you practically killed someone tonight?” You bluntly said.

You had taken a step away from him, like he was a danger to you too.

“They were a criminal!” He shrugged.

“Why does that matter? You can’t just completely take someone’s life away. That’s not who you are. Before you say you didn’t, you came real close to.” You stood your position.

It felt like you shot him straight in the heart.

He should’ve listened to you. But instead, he took a shot right back at you, a shot to kill.

“Again, they’re criminals. I’m sorry I had to calm things down somehow. I’m sorry I needed to do something to catch a break for once in my damn life. And you’re not exactly helping that.” He looked away from you. He felt ashamed.

You were right, he knew that, even then. But his pride couldn’t let him admit it.

“What is wrong with you? You love Spider-Man. And you always talk about how killing sickens you. You’ve changed, Peter.” You spat back at him.

He should’ve just ended it there, stopped the excessive violence, stopped the fight. Maybe then he wouldn’t have been in your kitchen on that faithful Tuesday.

It had been two days since that argument.

His almost perfect rep was officially ruined (Jameson had a field trip that day, too). The stress was at an all-time high.

He almost couldn’t handle it. He didn’t want to anymore.

He was still so angry at you for being right. Because you always were.

You were the one who kept him balanced, who took care of him no matter the time of day or night.

He hadn’t been back to your apartment since the fight, either.

But he would return to it after a tough night the day after. And the next.

And you forgave him, so fast (He took you to see the Barbie movie, paid for every snack and drink you could’ve wanted. It was indisputable on your end). The guilt from what Peter’s put you through has just stacked on and on.

Now he really couldn’t handle it anymore. 

And so, there he was. Sat atop a random rooftop rethinking everything.

He debated his life. His three lives, more like. Which parts were worth it, and which weren’t. (It was really fucked up, who measures parts of their life in worth and just decides which to throw away?)

He couldn’t lose his job, how would he make money?

He couldn’t stop being Spider-Man, he knew that.

And there was you. The biggest and undoubtedly the most important part.

But you were also easy to throw away, he thought.

So much stress and time would be lifted off of his shoulders.

(Little did he know, it would be the complete opposite. His injuries didn’t heal all the way like they did when you took care of him. Every time he was hurt, it would linger for days at a time. He missed how much you’d worried for him. He really took you for granted.)

And so, he decided in the next couple of weeks, he would break it off.

And he did. On the Tuesday the following week.

He looks back on it — to this day — and realized everything he had said to you that evening, wasn’t directed at you. It was directed at himself.

Of course he enjoyed loving you. He didn’t enjoy being himself was what.

He needed to be his best for you because he couldn’t be with anything else. He failed at being the friendly and reliable Spider-man. Him and Doc didn’t get the grant they’d been needing for so long.

And when he did try to improve when you called him out that night, it just wasn’t enough.

He didn’t deserve you.

He took everything out on you, he didn’t mean a word he said. But you didn’t know that.

Peter never had an outlet to take anything out. He couldn’t leave you with every burden of his life, Doc and him weren’t that close, and May couldn’t know he was Spider-Man.

He snapped that Tuesday.

And there’s nothing more that he regrets in his entire life.

But he couldn’t burden you anymore. He wouldn’t.

He did nothing but keep you up late at night, hurt your feelings, and make you do everything for him.

Peter loved you. And he couldn’t let himself torture you like this.

So he forced himself to let you go. You would move on, anyways. He couldn’t.

He listened to every single one of the voicemails you sent.

Every. Single. One. He’s never heard you sound so down (Because of him, nonetheless).

It took so much out of him to not respond. More than what he had to give.

And after five weeks, he finally caved.

He texted you.

9:52 PM

Hey, beautiful.

You wouldn’t forgive him quick this time, he knew that. This time wasn’t just some fight. He tore your heart apart.

But he would work for your forgiveness, he swore to himself, God as his witness.

You read the message immediately. He knew you had gotten off of work, so it wasn’t completely abnormal.

But you didn’t respond. He checked his phone all night and the next morning (He was desperate for something, even if it was an angry text. He hated nothing more than you ignoring him).

So he texted you again. He just went straight for it this time, no holding back anymore.

1:16 PM

Can we meet up?? I think we can agree there’s still some loose ends we need to revisit, together.

Read 1:18 PM

He was patient this time. He tried stepping in your shoes, and it broke his heart. He couldn’t imagine you snapping on him like he had.

He couldn’t live if you were angry at him like he was at you. And if you weren’t going to respond again he was debating on just showing up to your apartment. Can’t ignore him that way.

2:12 PM

Y/N 💞 : “Loose ends” is a funny term. You mean when you randomly showed up to my apartment and broke up with me for the stupidest reason?

He cringed. This was a dumb decision.

2:12 PM

I know, trust me. I just want to talk. And explain myself.

Explain my biggest mistake. I’ve never regretted anything more than leaving you and taking the anger at myself onto you.

He debated on sending the message, but he didn’t.

You would just see it as him trying kiss your ass into forgiving him. It worked before.

2:14 PM

Y/N 💞 : Peter, why? Why are you only just know texting me? Why are you trying to meet up when you tore my heart into pieces? Why are you seeking forgiveness randomly?

Why are you asking such hard questions, he wanted to ask.

2:14 PM

Idk, I miss you?

I miss you and still love you. I regret that night so much.

Can you just hear me out? Please?

Nothing sounded right. But he just went for it, again. At this point, he was pacing across his rooftop, anxious for your response (If you even gave him one).

2:15 PM

Y/N 💞 : Peter, I swear. If you make me regret this, I’ll come for you. Worse than any enemy you’ve ever faced and ever will.

He laughed at that one. You wouldn’t —right?—

2:15 PM

I won’t, Y/N. I promise. Tomorrow, Micks at 3?

Read 2:16 PM

You left him on read, but he counted that as a success — you didn’t refuse his offer so.. —

He would come back from this. He has to.

Peter was late. Fuck him.

Why did you even give him your time of day anymore? This man could tear you apart and you still gave into his words.

3:13 PM

Peter 🕸️ : Babt, I’mso sotry. I got caugjt up with worl, I’m bloxks away I sqaer.

You could barely understand him, but you were used to his usually proper grammar slipping while he was swinging.

How dare he? How dare he beg you to come out here and he gets to show up late??

He practically busted the restaurant’s door open. He rushed to your table.

“Baby I-”

“No,” You interrupted. “You don’t get to call me that. Fuck you, asshole. You ask me to meet you and you show up late? Are you kidding me?” You crossed your arms and stood up from the booth you were sitting at.

“Y/N, I’m so, so sorry. I got caught up with Doc at work. Huuge internal wiring problem. I don’t even understand how he could’ve messed it up so badly,” He talked with his hands, he was so cute when he did that.

You took a step towards him, and slapped the shit out of his stupidly attractive face.

“You don’t get to break me and show up late when you wanted me here.” The tears were back. You were livid. You shoved your finger into his face as you scolded him.

“I know, I know. I keep fucking up and I’m sorry. Lets just sit down and let me explain everything. I promise you, it’s worth it.” He put his hands on both of your shoulders to keep you from leaving and tried to calm you down.

“Hands off,” You pulled his hands away from your shoulder and slumped back into the booth.

You wanted to go home.

“Okay, okay.” He sat down and stared at you.

“Well?” You waited, “Let’s hear this explanation,” You rolled your eyes.

“Well, uh-” He paused for a moment, “I don’t know how to start.”

You waited for him to continue, arms still crossed. You really didn’t want to hear him out.

“Do you remember when I almost beat the life outta that guy? Like a month ago or something?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You rolled your eyes again, not exactly a good moment to bring up.

“I feel like that’s where it started,”

“Mhm..” You nodded for him to keep going.

“I started slipping. I stopped pulling my punches and I was so stressed out every moment of my life. A-and one day I just got so sick of it,” He started choking up, you almost felt bad for him.

“So I sat down and tried to organize my life. I wanted to rid myself of stress and try to free up time for myself in order to y’know, rejuvenate.”

You sat there, you were expecting plain excuses. But it seemed he had something real going here.

“I couldn’t rid myself of my job — how else would I be able to live? — and obviously Spider-Man isn’t a choice. And there came you. The best and biggest part of my life.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

“I was stupid, I thought that by taking a break, I’d feel more free. And feel more.. well less stressed out. If I had something to myself then I would be better and feel okay? I don’t know.”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Don’t look at me like that, please. I was so overwhelmed with everything. I’ve been so behind on rent, and crime just never stops around here. Its like it raises more and more every week.”

“I thought-” He took a deep breath, “I thought that if I had one less chore — trust me you are not a chore to me — life would get easier.”

You’re guessing he tried to rephrase his words he said before, he’s almost repeating himself.

“But it didn’t. At all. I was in pain all the time — emotionally and physically — it didn’t help at all. I said I didn’t enjoy loving you. I lied. I didn’t enjoy loving myself- or being me.”

Your heart clenched for him. He hurt you so bad, but hearing how he truly felt made you slightly reconsider things.

“I didn’t enjoy the stress of my life, and I don’t have any outlet for my anger. And you forgave me so easily the last time we fought. And I guess I took advantage of that. I took all of the hate I had for myself onto you. I think that will forever be my biggest mistake.”

Your eyebrows scrunched.

“I love you. So much, Y/N. More than words can describe. I’ve never regretted anything more in my life and I can’t ever be away from you, again.”

“I broke it off thinking it would cause me less stress, but I understand now that it was you who took the pressure away. Being away from you, Y/N,” He laughed (At his own pain, seemingly). “I’ve never felt shittier in my life.”

Your tears flowed. Your expectations were well exceeded. He’s fucked up so much, but he makes up for it every time. And this time, it wasn’t done by kissing your ass and spoiling you, you recognized that.

“I can’t explain how sorry I am. I regret what I did to you that night so much. More than anything in the world. I just hope you can understand that.”

“I hope you can understand me.” He kept eye contact, his eyes were watery. “I know how complicated I can get,” He let out a breathy laugh.

“Pete.” You just about whispered his name.

“Yeah..?” He wiped his eyes on his sleeve before answering you.

“I forgive you.” You smiled, still crying from his well thought out (you had to give him credit) apology.

“Wait- Really?”

“Yeah. I do.”

He stood up and hugged you from across the table.

“But..”

“But..?” He repeated you, curiously. He let go of the hug to look you in the eyes.

“You’re gonna have to pay for the meal if you really want me back.”

He laughed.

“I love you.”

He grabbed your cheeks and pulled you in for a kiss. He’s never kissed you so hard.

Stunned, but pleasantly surprised, you sat there for a moment. Unsure of whether you should kiss him or not.

But you grabbed his collar and melted into the kiss.

No matter how hard he had broken you, his words brought you back to him.

And you wouldn’t regret it, you knew that.

part 2 is finished 🥹

just wanna explain a few things just in case:

peter is a lil ooc w the excessive violence and it’s not him to be like that but i feel like every body gets to that point where everything can be just too much. even spider-man.

i also feel like he needs a healthy outlet for his feelings, being spiderman, he’s constantly busy. not exactly easy to make friends. but also being spiderman, he doesn’t wanna leave y/n with all of his problems, he’s supposed to be the hero. so he bottles it all up. to the point where he just burst one day and took it out on her. (not good!!)

also i felt like him being a man, he’s going to feel insecure if y/n’s the one taking care of him all the time. he’s the man, it’s supposed to be the other way around, but it’s not. and that’s okay!! often times, old traditions still lies deep within all of us. men’s mental health matters too!! men can still feel insecure!! EVERYONE DOES. but that doesn’t mean we (as people) can take out our insecurities or anger at ourselves onto other people. most times, they don’t deserve the hate we bring onto ourselves.

that being said, not everyone can be perfect. (peter is a great example) we’re all going through something in life and are constantly being tested. but, the biggest thing is to always persevere no matter what. you’re never going to have more on your plate than you can handle. if you’re struggling, always remember to reach out to someone. a loved one, a professional, or even me. my dms are always open. i love you all. 🩷

anyways,

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated!!

i hope you all enjoyed this story as much as i liked writing it 💗💗

#lynnlovesspidahman #peter parker x reader #peter parker #tom holland #tom holland x reader #mcu peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter smut #tasm!peter x you #tasm peter parker #tasm 2 #tasm fanfiction #insomniac spider man #insomniac spiderman x reader #tasm spiderman #spider man ps4 x reader #spider man ps4 #insomniac miles morales #spider man x reader #spider man x y/n #spider man x you #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x female reader #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield smut

[henrioo]

✦ ── SUGAR DADDY: CROCODILE

Part one, part two, part tree

Relationships: Sugar Daddy! Crocodile x Gn! Reader

Synopsis: Where would you go to meet your future Sugar Daddy?

Warnings: Sugar daddy stuff, physical assault (slapping), fights in the workplace

Word Count: 564

Rating: Mature (sensitive topics)

Notes: The first part of a little sugar daddy series! Crocodile, I hope you like it, the next parts will have more nsfw themes and deepen the relationship, this is just the beginning

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ• ────── ✦ ────── •

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile who is tired of his employees in the service, it seems that everyone is trying on purpose to ruin his mood

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile who hates arriving at his cold house and being alone, all his friends too busy with their own families to pay him a visit

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile who hates arriving unaccompanied at the parties he is invited to, even though women and men throw themselves at him at these events he knows it's different from showing up with a formal date

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile who discovers that his favorite coffee shop was closed for renovations just on a busy Monday when all he needed was a good sugar-free espresso.

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile who decides to turn off his cell phone and not give a damn about the calls from his secretary trying to let him know he was running late, all just to find another location for his coffee

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile who finds a small bookstore cafe hidden among countless other stores, it looked like a family place, cozy and comfortable, warm as a cup of the drink he was looking for, maybe that's why he went inside

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile who just ordered his coffee next to salty cookies and sat down near the window just to open the newspaper and pretend for a few minutes that he was not a CEO busy to the bone

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile who initially didn't see you, only noticed your presence when you started fighting with a customer. The man was trying to take advantage of most of the employees being women and you were the steady foot that was protecting them.

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile who thought you'd back down when you got slapped by the man, who seemed to be bragging about being a criminal, all only for you to punch him back in the face and shock everyone in the place, including him

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile who remained unresponsive even after receiving your order, just looking at how extremely brave you were even though your eyesight was tiny, you were determined to protect your colleagues and it ignited something in him

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile who asks another employee who you were, only to find out that you were the manager of that shift and that messes like that were more common than he imagined

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile who tips you big when you pay your bill at the cashier just for the fun of it, not many could leave you surprised or impressed.

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile who comes into the office not really paying attention to anything, just agreeing to everything and dismissing the staff, the only thing on your mind is you

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile who decides to leave the house a bit early the next day just to go to the same cafe, he wouldn't even say the food or drink was extraordinary, but you were definitely something worth seeing again

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile who sits in the same place and orders the same thing, waiting peacefully while flipping through the newspaper, without really reading anything, he can't pay attention to the news

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile who can't hide a slightly wicked smile when the person who comes to deliver his order is none other than you, with a bandage on his cheek and a smile that makes the fire inside him burn uncontrollably.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #onepiece #anime imagines #one piece imagine #imagines #anime and manga #crocodile x reader #crocodile x you #crocodile one piece #sir crocodile #crocodile #sugar daddy! crocodile #one piece sugar daddy