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#supers x reader
lunasfics · 7 months
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Found Family
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summary: In which Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent engage in a custody battle over a clone created from both their DNA, or, in which you get saved from a lab and gain two new families who would move mountains for you.
pairing: Bat Family x f! Reader, Supers x f! Reader
word count: 8.2k
preview
a/n: hello! IT'S FINALLY OUT WOOHOO, it's a bit long but i had a lot of fun writing it. certain characters may be a bit ooc so i do apologize as i'm still getting my footing on how to characterize certain people. let me know what you think! constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated (just pls don't be mean lol)! i left a somewhat open-ish ending because i wanna make this into a series/universe, and will start taking requests for drabbles in this universe, depending on how this is received! - luna :)
reblogs are appreciated!
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“I’m in. Robin, what’s your status?” Bruce spoke into the earpiece, swiftly moving through the shadows of the lab. It was a simple mission: get into the lab Lex Luthor had created under Gotham City, collect intel needed to take down said lab, and leave. Unfortunately, it’s never really that simple, is it? 
“I’m in, making my way through the west wing, cover is still intact,” Damian muttered back. 
“Good. Nightwing?” 
“Just entered the center lab, heading down to the bottom level now, haven't been spotted,” Dick said, making his way down the steps, careful to remain silent. 
“Good. Remember the objective. In and Out.” Bruce muttered as he continued, searching for the locked file cabinet he was looking for. 
“Files located. Ready for extraction” Damian said quietly through the intercom. 
“I’ve made it to the bottom level. Requesting immediate backup, there's something here you guys need to see” Dick’s voice echoed through the earpiece, “They’ve made another clone.” 
Bruce stopped what he was doing, silently making his way down the hall towards the staircase Dick took around a half hour before, “I'm on my way. Damian?”
“Heading there now. Files are downloaded.” 
Upon arriving at the lower level, Dick bypasses security to let them in, making sure to reactivate the lock behind them, “Look.”
He gestured to the incubation tube not far from them, inside of it stood a young woman, who looked no older than 20, wearing a black skin-tight suit, a familiar “S” symbol adorning her chest, only it was the center of another symbol, the bat symbol, with bat ears at the top and bat wings on either side of it, a dark burgundy color with gold lining along the edges. The plaque below the tube read: 
Attempt 1: G6B24 
Specimen 1: Superman (Identity: Unknown)
Specimen 2: Batman (Identity: Unknown) 
Status: Failed - Shows excessive signs of emotional intelligence (unfit for purpose), Subject is not invulnerable, Lacks thermal vision
‘Emotional Intelligence’ you must have shown hesitation, a moral compass. 
“Father… what are we going to do?” Damian asked, he was at a loss, part of him felt slightly threatened, if you were taken in, he would no longer be the only child related to Bruce by DNA, and you were older, stronger— perhaps you would take his place, the place he’d finally felt he truly belonged; however he remained silent, his past self likely would have attempted to argue against your rescue, but he’d grown, he knew deep down you deserved a chance at this life just as much as he did. 
Bruce looked up at your unconscious figure, at a loss for words, you were his daughter, intentional or not, there was a part of him in you, he only hoped that part wouldn't screw you over for life. As surprised as he was, he had an obligation to you the same way he did with Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Steph, Barbara, Duke, Damian, and every other vigilante he had taken under his wing.
His Batman instincts kicked in very quickly though, immediately refocusing himself, reading through the files, in an attempt to prepare himself for any possible scenario, he turned to Dick. 
“Find all the DNA samples they have belonging to both me and Superman, we’re taking them,” he said, making sure to not hyper-focus on the thoughts flooding his mind. 
“We’re not just leaving her here, are we? The plaque says ‘failed’. Who knows what could happen to her?” Dick said, he was frustrated.
Conner had gotten a chance to build a life for himself. You deserved one too, the mere thought of Bruce wanting to leave you there angered him. 
“She’s coming with us. Damian, watch the door, Dick, find the samples," Bruce said gruffly, moving to the tube, bypassing the database to open it, without setting off any system safeguards. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out his shard of kryptonite, just in case it was needed to neutralize you. 
The tube opened slowly, a swoosh sound filling the air as the cold fog escaped the tube, spilling into the air, your eyes fluttering open as you looked around, your eyes focusing on him.
You flew at him, full speed, pushing him against the wall with a thud, knocking the wind out of him, your eyes boring into his, glowing red, just as you were about to terminate him with your heat vision, he uttered the safe word he had seen in your file. 
“Blue Pineapple” he grunted out, the red in your eyes fading away instantly, as you stared at him with wide eyes. You backed away slowly, lowering yourself to the floor. Your eyes fixed on him once again.
You recognized him from your programming, the man whose combat skills were engraved into your mind.
“Batman?” 
Dick and Damian rushed over, making sure Bruce was okay. He was fine.
Dick turned to you, holding out his hand, “Come with me. We need to get you out of here, you aren’t safe here.” 
You stared at him, your eyes narrowing, “Why should I trust you?” 
Dick sighed, Those damn Wayne genetics, he kept his hand extended to you, “Because we’re helping you escape, if you come with us, you can meet Superman, be a hero just like him and Batman, you could actually see the world” he promised. 
"I know what the world looks like." you stated bluntly.
He sighed, his hand not wavering, "But have you ever experienced it? Let us show you what that's like. You can have a life."
You thought for a moment, before letting out a small grunt, nodding at him and taking his hand, allowing them to lead you out of the lab grounds seemingly undetected. 
When you stepped out, you stopped, eyes completely transfixed on the brilliant night sky. Blends of blues and purples and grays danced together to make the beautiful endless abyss above you. You knew every color there was. You knew everything, but at the same time you really didn't. You stared up at the stars, you knew how they came to be, you knew every scientific explanation there was yet seeing them… it made you feel a way you couldn’t explain.
They led you to the batmobile, situating you in the back seat with Damian, starting the drive to the Batcave. Bruce dialed Clark’s number into the keypad, it rang twice before he picked up. 
“Hello?” 
“Meet me in the Batcave. It’s urgent. Bring Conner.”
“What’s going o-”
He hung up. 
Dick covered his mouth to hide his snicker, “So, Bruce, you and Clark have an official love child now, right? What will Lois think?” he feigned concern, placing the back of his hand over his forehead, committing to the drama, “Oh, how scandalous, I mean really, the shame! I can already see the headlines ‘Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne turned common whore after breaking up happy metropolis family’” 
Damian covered his laugh with a cough.
You looked at the three of them, utterly confused, still processing what was going on. 
Bruce huffed, shooting them both a glare, “Dick, be mature.” 
Dick smiled, “I can't help myself, just wait til Jason finds out.” He smiled in excitement, as they pulled into the side entrance of the Batcave. 
Bruce let out a deep, tired sigh.
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Clark sat in silence in the Batcave, Conner standing to his left, his eyes wide as he stared at you, possessing some features belonging to both he and Bruce, and other features that seemed to be entirely your own.
You stared back, that same stoic nature radiating off of you that radiates off the Batman, however, he noted the defensive look in your eyes, one so similar to the one he saw in Conner when he first met him. He eyed your suit, noting the familiar “S” symbol, only it was a burgundy color, a rather interesting combination of the Batman and Superman emblems, and he was utterly confused.
He looked over at Bruce, still in his bat suit, his cowl pulled off, “Bruce, what the hell is going on?” 
“I had to call you here because Luthor decided to create another clone. I did the DNA test, Clark, she’s a combination of both our DNA” Bruce looked at him, Dick and Damian standing to his right. It was silent for a moment, you felt like a guinea pig, the way they all stared at you. It made you angry. 
Conner was the first to speak, stepping forward before opening his mouth, choosing his words carefully, “What’s your name?” 
You responded immediately, it felt automatic. “Experiment attempt number one. Code G6B24. I was made to be the future killer of the Batman and the Kriptonian.” 
He nodded slowly, “I’m a clone too, and Clark took me in— well, he took me in eventually— that’s besides the point. He showed me how to become my own person, we can help you do that too.”
You looked at him, eyes softening ever so slightly, but you kept your guard up like your Batman programming taught you to. “I was made to be a killer, if I don’t do what I was made to do, what am I worth?” you said quietly, voice unwavering.
Damian watched you, your words striking him in a way he hadn't expected them to, he understood what you were saying all too well. 
Bruce decided to speak up next, “You were created, it’s not your fault what their intentions were when they did so. What you become from here on out is your choice.” 
You stayed silent, eyes darting around the room—What is this feeling? Vulnerability? You knew it by definition, like you did most other feelings, but feeling them… it was different. 
Dick noted the way you seemed overwhelmed, he approached you slowly, pulling up two chairs, motioning for you to sit, you chose to remain standing until he sat down first. 
“You know, we trust you, we want to figure out a way for you to become the best you can be. On your terms” he said, offering you a small smile. 
You looked around, the others nodded in agreement, “I was made to be only the best parts of you” you said, your gaze focusing on Clark and Bruce, they both put their best qualities forward to help others, how could you use those same qualities to destroy that?
“I… don’t want to be a killer. They said I was too… human. I thought I’d failed them.” 
Damian decided to step forward, “You didn’t fail anyone, you are meant for greater things. You haven't killed anyone, you can choose your path. If the path you choose is the Robin mantle... I am willing to work with that.” 
At this, the other men in the room turned to look at him, Clark and Conner were slack-jawed, this was the same kid who fought Tim tooth and nail over this mantle. The same mantle he was just… willing to give you? 
Meanwhile Dick had a proud smile on his face, you thought you saw a small tear in his eye.
Bruce’s face seemed unreadable, however, you took notice of the way the corners of his lips turned up for a split second. before reverting back to their natural state. 
You weren’t sure what to say, again, you knew what this mantle was, by definition. The reality was you had no sense of what it meant, the weight it carried. And you knew that.
“Thank you, but I feel like that title isn’t mine to take. I think I need to… become something that's true to who I am, whatever that may be.”  
Bruce looked at you, the corner of his lip barely twitching up into a smile, a smile so subtle that only someone of your… background would notice, an attempt of his towards getting you more comfortable, “We should start with a name.” 
You looked at Conner, he gave you an encouraging smile. 
“Like I chose Conner, so now I’m Conner Kent,” he said with a small shrug, “You can choose whatever you want.” 
“I see,” you thought for a moment, “I like Y/n.” 
Clark smiled, standing up and clapping his hands together, “Great! Y/n Kent, has a nice ring to it.” 
“Wayne.” 
He turned towards Bruce, eyes narrowing slightly, “Kent.”
“Wayne.”
This time Conner spoke, “Kent.”
The three men stared at each other, arms crossed mirroring each-other’s glares. 
Dick cut in, “How about Grayson?”
“No.” came their simultaneous response. 
Dick frowned, slumping in the seat next to yours, “Jeez.” 
Damian spoke next, “I suppose Al Ghul is off the table…” 
Dick snorted, breaking out into a fit of laughter, you grinned softly at the sounds of his laughter, it reminded you of a windshield wiper. 
Conner sighed, “Fine, what about Wayne-Kent?”
Bruce huffed, “I suppose.”
Clark nodded, the smile returning to his face as he turned to you, “Y/n Wayne-Kent”
You nodded, “I like it.” 
Dick could help but laugh from beside you, “It's like I'm watching reality tv. Love me some baby mama drama.”
Clark opened his mouth to speak and closed it, before sighing and looking at Bruce, who just pinched the bridge of his nose. 
Conner chuckled at the sight, turning to Damian, who’s lip quirked up in amusement. 
Bruce looked up, his attention directed towards you, “Y/n, you can stay here for the night, I’ve asked Alfred to set up a room for you. Clark, Conner, come by tomorrow with Lois and Jon, I’ve called the others to come by as well, we’ll get everything situated tomorrow. For now, get some rest.” 
Everyone nodded, Clark and Conner heading to the exit of the cave, Damian, Dick and Bruce leading you to the room that was prepared for you. 
Dick brought you a sweater and some sweatpants to change into, closing the door with a soft, “Goodnight, kiddo.” 
You changed in silence, slowly getting under the covers and drifting off to sleep, marking the start of your new life. Tomorrow would be an interesting day. 
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You woke up the next morning, to a soft knock on the door, your super hearing picking it up better than you would have liked. You opened the door, revealing an older man you hadn’t seen before. He smiled softly, giving you an instantaneous sense of comfort you couldn’t explain. 
“Hello Miss Y/n. My name is Alfred, I am the butler,” he greeted you, handing you a folded set of clothes, “Master Kent chose these for you, however if they are not to your liking, do let me know.” 
“They’re fine…Thank you.”
He smiled warmly, the kind old man giving you a nod, “Once you've changed, do come down, I’ve prepared breakfast. The other members of the family will arrive soon to meet you.” 
You gave him a short nod, he smiled again, your demeanor reminding him of the young Bruce he’d looked after all those years ago. He shut your door softly before retreating down the staircase, leaving you in your room to change. 
You picked up the small note that rested at the top of the pile, reading it over. 
Comfortable, Practical, and cool. Hope you like it. - Conner
You looked down at the neatly folded clothes, unfolding a black long sleeve turtleneck shirt, the material was thick but breathable, you slipped it on with ease, the foreign material soft against your skin, you appreciated that it didn’t suffocate you. 
You reached for the pants next, dark gray cargo pants, these were thicker, and the had an overwhelming amount of pockets. You slipped them on before slipping on the boots that were at the bottom of the stack and exiting the room, going down the staircase. 
Upon entering the dining room, you were met with Bruce sitting at the head of the table, reading the paper calmly eating his pancakes, to his right sat Dick chatting excitedly to the boy next to him, who smiled at him as he listened, he was a slender boy with black hair who looked a bit younger than Dick. Then there was Alred, calmly enjoying his breakfast. Finally there was Damian on the other side of Bruce, leaving an empty seat between Damian and Alred. You sat down, the pale boy noticing you first. 
Bruce looked up, “Tim, this is Y/n.” 
“Hello.” You sat up awkwardly. One thing you never learned was how to navigate social interactions.
He studied you for a moment, offering you a small smile, “I’m Tim.” 
You gave a nod, returning his smile with a smaller one of your own. 
“She knows, by the way.” Dick chimed in.
His eyes widened, was that why you were there? 
“How?” 
All eyes are on you. You opened your mouth to speak but Damian spoke first. 
“She’s a clone. Father will explain everything when everyone else arrives so as to not waste time, until then, hold on to your childish curiosity. I’d like to enjoy my breakfast.” 
Dick nodded, “She was literally made for this shit.”
“Watch your language Master Dick, it is deplorable to speak in such a way at the table, much less in the presence of a lady.” 
Dick blushed, “Sorry Alfred.” 
Bruce simply gave a nod. 
Tim slumped back in his seat, wanting to ask you questions about your abilities, your earliest memories, who were you a clone of, how your programming worked, the boy was itching to know it all. 
Breakfast passed by relatively quickly after that, you weren’t bombarded with questions, much to your relief. Alfred kindly asked you how you slept to which you replied that you slept well. The sound of casual conversation and glassware scraping together filling the room. You enjoyed observing the atmosphere.
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Clark and Conner were the first to arrive at the manor, greeting you happily, with them was a woman and a younger boy, who immediately went to sit by Damian. 
Clark brought them over to you, the woman smiled warmly at you. It made you feel safe. 
She held your hand in hers, “My name is Lois,” her voice was kind, genuine. You noted how she carried herself. Strong, secure, honest. 
Clark was quick to bring Jon over, excited to introduce him, “This is my son, Jon.”
“Hi!”  he beamed at you, you smiled, he was cute. Cheerful as he smiled brightly at you. 
“Hello, my name is Y/n.” you greeted the two, who smiled at you.
Conner was the next to approach, “Did you like the clothes? I picked them out cause it was all I used to wear, but who knows, you may want something more… fashionable.”
You smiled softly, “They're nice, thank you.”
“On that note actually,” Clark said, “I was thinking we can take you shopping later, Bruce and I can pay.” 
Bruce deadpanned, “That’s a joke, right?” 
He smiled, “Of course, you’re paying for everything.”
“Sounds about right.” 
Chatter filled the room not long after, Jon and Damian catching up on the couch while Conner and Tim started a conversation of their own. 
The next people to arrive were three young women, blonde, brunette, and red hair. They had arrived together.
The blonde spoke first, “Why'd you call us here Bruce? We had planned for brunch.” She bitterly narrowed her eyes at him, the brunette behind her giving a short nod of agreement.
Bruce sighed, “We’re waiting on Jason. He’s late.” 
“As always.” The redhead said with a sigh, though you could see she wasn't actually upset.  
The blonde girl turned to you first smiling, “I’m Stephanie, but call me Steph. I’m assuming you’ll be joining our vigilante posse.” She seemed funny, and kind, like she truly cared for those around her. 
“Somewhat, I don’t really know. I’m Y/n.” You said bluntly.
“Pretty name.” She smiled, gesturing to the red haired woman behind her, “This is Barbara, but she's really just Babs.” She then gestured to the brunette, “That’s Cass. She’s lovely.” 
You looked at them and nodded, “It’s nice to meet you.”
Barbara smiled warmly at you, “You too, I’m so glad there’ll be another girl around, we can always use more company.” She smiled at you so kindly, despite having only just met you. Her voice was sweet, like honey. 
Cass smiled softly at you, “Come to brunch with us later. Or, lunch, now since Jason is holding us up.” 
You nodded your lip quirking up into a small smile, “I’d enjoy that.” 
Truthfully, you didn't know what the fuck brunch was. But she said lunch and that you knew. You'd find out about brunch later.
Then, as if on cue, the man in question arrived, walking through the door, slipping off his brown jacket and tossing it on the couch. He was tall, with a stocky frame, jet black hair with a white streak on the front. 
“This better be good.” 
Tim mumbled, “Finally” 
“Miss me Timmy?” 
“Quite the contrary.”
The one called Jason laughed before giving him a small nudge, to which Tim swatted his hand away. 
His eyes fixed on you, then on Bruce. 
“Dude, seriously? Another one? You have a problem man. You’d think you would’ve stopped after me.” 
Bruce stood up, “Jason, sit down. Now that you’re all here I wanted to introduce you to Y/n. She’s a clone, made from both mine, and Clark’s DNA.” 
“Holy shit, man.” 
“Jason, will you shut up?” 
“Never.” 
“As I was saying, she’ll be here in the manor for the time being, I’ll be training her and assessing her combat technique.” 
“Hold on,” Clark interjected, “She should come with us, she needs to get the hang of her powers.” 
“Clark, I have a state of the art training area in the cave.” 
“So? We’re supers, all we need is an open field.” 
“We need to assess her combat skills, and also assess the extent of her powers. She isn’t invulnerable. We need to prioritize getting to the bottom of that.” 
Clark huffed but nodded, understanding the full extent of your abilities was vital in actually training you. 
“It’s like I’m watching a custody battle.” muttered Steph, Barbara laughing quietly beside her. 
“Wait- So Y/n is basically if you and Clark had a baby?” Tim gawked at them, his eyes shifting from Bruce to Clark, to you. When his eyes landed on you, he fired questions like he was on a time limit. 
“How do Bruce’s genetics affect your abilities? Are you immune to kryptonite and invulnerable? How does your thermal vision work? Enhanced strength? Can you fly? Can you fly as fast as Superman? Do you have combat training? How do y-” 
Conner smacked a hand over his mouth, leading him back to his seat, “Lets try not to overwhelm her with the questions.” He chuckled. 
Tim nodded, looking up at you, “Sorry, Y/n.” 
“That’s okay. To answer your questions, his genetics don’t necessarily have a huge impact on any of my abilities, I was created with every available video of Batman fighting embedded into my mind, and the combat skills were engraved in my memory, I should be able to replicate his fighting style to a tee. I’m not invulnerable, but in theory, the stealth I was programmed with allows me to stay agile enough that I shouldn’t often get hurt. I don't have thermal vision, but I do have laser vision, enhanced strength, and flight, although I haven’t tested how fast I actually can fly. And like I said, my combat training is essentially the combat footage uploaded into my mind.” 
Tim had nodded, eyes trained on yours in complete interest as you answered each question, occasionally jotting something down on the notes app of his phone. 
Lois narrowed her eyes slightly at both Bruce and Clark, “I do hope you’re factoring in giving her the opportunity to build an actual social life. Maybe get her enrolled in school.” 
“She has doctorate-level information on several different topics stored into her mind, as well as fluency in 8 languages. I think she’ll be fine, Lois,” Bruce replied. 
She rolled her eyes, “Okay, so school’s not necessary, what about building a social life for herself? That’s important.” 
“There’s Young Justice,” Conner said, “I figured she’d join.” 
Tim nodded in agreement, “I can help her get situated.” 
“Where will I stay?” you asked, you didn’t particularly enjoy how they were all discussing you as if you weren't there, but there honestly wasn’t much you could do. 
“You can stay at the manor, or you can stay with the team, but it'd be best if you lived here in the Manor.” Bruce replied.
“Why isn’t Metropolis an option?” Clark muttered. 
“Because it’s more practical to have her here in Gotham, living with Tim will make it easier to adjust to the team.” 
“I want time with her, Bruce.” 
“You’ll get it. We’ll have her assessed, then three times a week she’ll train and get a hold of her powers with you.” 
Clark nodded, satisfied with that answer. 
Lois spoke again, turning to you, “Y/n, how does that sound to you?” 
You blinked. “It sounds fine. My super hearing allows me to hear every conversation proficiently.”
She chuckled softly, “It’s a figure of speech sweetheart, I meant if you’re okay with everything that was said, you’ve been a bit quiet.”
You felt your face grow hot, “Oh. Yeah, I’m okay with it.”
Clark gave you a fond smile. 
Bruce looked at you and smiled softly, a barely noticeable one, but a smile nonetheless. 
The bulk of the conversation was over. The people in the room falling into easy conversation with one another, you look around, not sure what to do. That is until Jason approaches you, a kind smile on his face. 
“Hey Y/n, I’m Jason, I’ll be honest, you probably won't see me too often cause I can barely stand being around Bruce, but… if he’s ever a dick, call me and I’ll either punch him for you and take you somewhere he’s not.” he grinned, “Or both.” 
You laughed softly, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”
He nodded, “I’ll be raiding the kitchen, but if anyone asks, I left.” He shoots you a grin before slipping away. 
It’s not long after that when Jon approaches you, Damian by his side, he shoots you a toothy grin, “So, you’re like, my sister now, right?” 
You’re not sure how to respond, but you feel a puddle of warmth pooling in your heart, it’s nice. You smile at him softly, “I suppose so.” 
He grins, “And that would also make you Damian’s sister. right?”
“I suppose so.” 
“See Damian, we’re blood brothers by extension.” 
“Jon, that is the most imbecilic logic I’ve ever encountered. Just because Y/n is both my blood and yours doesn’t mean–” 
“Blood brothers!” He had shouted cheerfully, before walking away and over to Lois to inform her of the good news. 
Damian sighed, though you took notice of the soft smile that flashed across his face, you concluded that he cared for him. 
A lot of people in this family– Bruce’s family specifically, tend to hide affection, despite the fact that it is apparent to you that they feel it. You decide not to focus on it, people are complicated. 
You chat a bit with various people in the room, Lois telling you that you’re always welcome to visit whenever you’d like, Barbara talking to you about how her work as Oracle, Steph telling you all about the other vigilantes you’ll probably end up crossing paths with. Tim and Conner sat by you, telling you all about the team and the people you’ll meet once all your training is done. 
Slowly, people start to leave, you saw Jason slip out the front door first, sending you a wink. Dick left not long after, needing to return to his responsibilities in Bludhaven, making sure to tell you you’re always welcome to visit him over there. Then Clark left with Lois, Jon, and Conner, leaving the residents of the manor plus, Cass, Steph and Barbara.
Damian and Tim had retreated to their rooms, while Alfred busied himself with household chores, Bruce stood up, approaching you before saying, “Did you still want to go shopping? You’ll need training clothes.” 
You nodded, “Yes, please.” 
Steph perked up, rushing towards the two of you, “Oh, we have to come.” 
“Steph, you go shopping every week. With my card.”
Barbara chimed in, “It’s not about that Bruce, you have a terrible fashion sense. We can’t let you impose that onto Y/n.”
Cass nodded in agreement. 
“We’re just buying training clothes.” 
“She can’t wear training clothes in her daily life,” Steph rolled her eyes, “She needs a wardrobe.” 
You smiled, “I would like a wardrobe.” 
“See?”
Bruce sighed but nodded, “Let's go then.”
Steph cheered while Barbara and Cass high-fived behind her, it was an amusing site. 
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When you arrived at the mall, Steph immediately linked arms with you, dragging you around to her favorite stores, paying no mind to your super strength potentially being able to accidentally break her arm. It caught you off guard, not only the physical display of affection, but the trust.
Again, you felt that soft puddle of warmth pool in your chest. You could get used to that. 
You had gotten to know Barbara and Cass fairly well during the trip as well, Barbara was sweet, she and Steph made you laugh more than you thought you could. Cass and you got along well too, she picked out the clothes you liked the most, always nodding in approval when you would try anything on, a soft smile on her face. The three of them opened their group up to you so quickly, it had surprised you, you felt that with their company you were better able to navigate finding yourself. 
The four of you hadn’t paid much mind to Bruce trailing behind you as you went from store to store, not that he minded. He held a fond smile as he observed the four of you giggling, talking, and having a good time.
He knew his focus on training was important, but he also knew Lois was right (not that he’d admit that to anyone), you needed a social life too. And he knew your heightened emotional intelligence would surely allow you to obtain that, you just needed to blossom, and allow yourself to break free of the restraints you put on yourself. 
He’d lost count of how many times he had swiped his card that day, at some point he had decided to just start waiting by the front, once you guys were ready, he’d walk over, swipe his card, and you guys would move on to the next shop. He wouldn't say this to anyone, but he enjoyed doing things like this, taking care of the people he cares about. 
The last store you had gone to was WayneTech, it was Bruce’s idea. You needed a phone in order to keep everyone’s contacts. So they brought you there where you got the latest model of their cell phone line, it was sleek and thin. You picked out a case and you got a screen protector. Bruce had told you that once you got to the Batcave he’d input league contacts, safety features, as well as league-level security settings. 
By the end of the trip it was early in the evening, Bruce had his arms absolutely filled with shopping bags, and what he couldn’t carry was carried by you and Steph. The five of you stepped out into the parking lot, the sun setting, casting a deep orange hue on the parking lot. You took in the image in front of you, you didn’t know suns could set so beautifully.
The ride home was nice, the car was filled with the soft chatter of the four of you, Bruce didn’t feel the need to listen in. The soft music playing on the stereo as a background was a nice addition to the atmosphere. 
When you’d arrived at the manor, the girls had bid you goodbye, but not before making sure they had your number to add you to their group chat. You were warned by Steph that Cass’s meme game could not be beat. You were slightly confused but nodded, a happy smile on your face. They each gave you a hug before getting in their cars and heading off. 
The walk into the manor was silent, but not awkward, mainly the two of you taking armfuls of bags up to your room.
As he shut the door, Bruce turned to you, “It’s not too late, if you want, we could start out on some training.” 
You nodded, going into your room to change, “I’ll be down there in a bit.” 
He nodded, walking away to change as well. 
You entered the Batcave shortly after, comfortable in your black sweatpants, and a black long sleeve athletic shirt. Now, having a better opportunity to take it all in, it was massive. You looked to your left to see Damian sparring with Tim in one of the further training areas. You walked over to Bruce, he gave you a small smile, leading you to the second training area by Tim and Damian, who by now had stopped sparring, in favor of observing your skill. 
“You can replicate my fighting style to a tee, right?”
You nodded.
“Let’s see it.” 
You charged first, making sure to suppress your strength, your movements swift and calculated, landing a fast right kick to his abdomen. He sidestepped, landing a swift punch to your side. You kept attempting attacks on eachother, each one dodging the other flawlessly.
Tim and Damian watched in awe as the two of you gracefully moved, as if you were dancing. This went on for several minutes, until you attempted a fast left kick to his side, which he caught, using as leverage to flip you over on your back.
Your limbs ached, you looked up at him, “How did you do that?”
He held a hand out to help you up, “I’m not as fast with my left kicks as I am with my right ones. My weaknesses are your weaknesses.”
You nodded. Made sense. 
“You have good technique, and you replicate my fighting perfectly, but that’s all it is. A replication. You need to make it your own. Adapt it in accordance with your abilities, you can’t do that now because Clark hasn’t trained you, but in time you will.” 
You nodded, your chest swelling with pride at his compliment, you knew after your training with Clark you would be able to better adjust your fighting style.
Damian walked over to you, “Y/n. I’d like to spar, you’ve proven to be a worthy opponent.” 
You nodded, it would be good to spar with someone with a different fighting style. Tim sat down to the side, perfectly content with just observing for now, like earlier, he occasionally jotted down some notes on his phone. You decided you didn’t mind it. It was endearing. 
This time, Damian charged first, landing a swift right kick to your ribs, you turned and landed a hard kick to his chest, sending him back, before he flipped and caught himself, running towards you again. His smaller frame provided him with an advantage as he jumped onto your shoulders, before he could land his blow, you flipped your body, sending him to the floor, landing on his back with a thud. You crouched over him, extending your hand.
“You okay?”
“Fine.” he took your hand, getting up to his feet, you gave him a soft smile, which he returned, giving you a nod of approval. He, like Bruce, didn’t often use his words, but you were able to discern their intentions just fine. 
Bruce then led you to a machine he had in the cave, where it analyzed your genetics in comparison to Clark’s, he had determined you were missing the genetic composition that happened to be the main source of invulnerability, therefore the reason you were the way you were. You are unfortunately still weak when exposed to kryptonite. 
You were tired by the end of the night. You felt you had bonded with Damian, he had asked you to spar with him another time, to which you agreed.
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The next day, Bruce had sent you over to Smallville, where Clark had decided on training you, ‘A good old fashioned open field’ were his exact words.
He made sure to send you wearing your original suit, not knowing how fast you would be flying, just in case, only you didn’t like it, so you opted to wear some sweats over the suit. 
And there you were, floating about 300 feet in the air with him, as he explained the basics of flying. 
“You want to create your own leverage, using your flight, you should be able to do this.” He bent one leg, tilting to the right as he effortlessly glided in that direction, he repeated the action only now going in the opposite direction. 
You nodded, imitating his movements, gliding from side to side before stopping and looking at him. He smiled brightly at you, “You’re doing great, kid. There was never a point where you didn’t have powers, so this should be easy. Now, we’ll test your speed.” 
You nodded, “How are we doing that?”
He pulled out a stopwatch, “I’m going to wait here while you fly to Gotham and back. You know the route?” 
You nodded. 
“Okay… and…. Go!”
You immediately shot forward, a slightly bumpy start but your body adapted immediately, you felt the wind whip through your hair, and a smile spread across your face as you made a U-turn around Gotham, making it back to Clark in seconds. 
“2.6 seconds. That’s good.” He smiled at you. 
You went on like that for the next few hours, him giving you encouraging words of advice, and you gained better control over your abilities, him providing you with tips he learned over the years. For that last hour, Jon and Conner joined the two of you, the four of you eventually just playing air tag until Martha and Lois called you in for dinner. 
They insisted you stay for dinner, and you had no mind to refuse, spending time with them was nice. Jon insisted he sat next to you at dinner, excitedly talking your ear off about whatever he’d gotten to that day, and sharing his favorite stories about Damian with you. He acts like he doesn't like people, but he’s got a soft spot for a lot of us, were his exact words. You honestly completely agreed, you smiled at him as he continued talking. 
That day you’d gotten to know Martha and Jonanthan Kent, who insisted you called them Ma and Pa. They instantly coddled you as if they’d known you since birth, though, in a way, that is technically the case. 
They didn't let you leave empty handed, sending you off with tupper-ware filled with leftovers, cookies and pie. You thanked them for their hospitality and headed back to the manor. 
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The next few months were mainly doing morning and evening training with Bruce, occasionally Dick would stop by to train with you, always telling you he was proud of your improvement, which never failed to make you glow just a little brighter with pride. He’d begun a tradition where he would treat you to a burger after training, or whatever it was you were craving. He said that it was his goal to get you to try every fast food joint in Gotham, deciding that it was just an essential part of living there. You quickly decided you hated fast food, but never said anything because that wasn’t at all what mattered to you, what mattered to you was the bond you were creating with your older brother. 
Your relationship with Bruce wasn’t perfect. There were times you saw how focused he was on his mission, neglecting the feelings of those around him, he could be an asshole. And with you still navigating your emotions, you’d get angry and yell, and so would he. If you saw him brushing off Damian, or Tim, one look at the crestfallen expressions on their faces was enough to get you angry. You shouldn’t have been surprised, truthfully, you weren’t. You were too similar. You were just fortunate enough to be surrounded by people early on who could convince you to let them in. 
Regardless of the imperfections between you and Bruce, you knew he cared. He always showed it with the small smile he’d give you as he held up two tickets to the movie you had wanted to see. Or in the way he’d lure everyone into the living room with snacks for a movie night. Or how he’d try his best to always express to you that you were doing well. That you were enough, and that you deserved to be there. 
You’d grown closer with Tim, too, always willing to help him with his assignments (not that he often needed it, but on the rare occasions his sleep deprived self couldn’t wrap his head around a problem). You’d often go to him when you needed help figuring something out on your phone, to which he would offer a simple solution you hadn’t seen before.
Tim was kind, he showed he cared for you by fixing things, when you cracked your screen protector by accidentally tapping it too hard, he made you a new one that could withstand the force of a bullet. He learned to confide in you over time, telling you about Bernard, expressing his worries to you about whether or not he’s good enough. You’d always tell him he was more than good enough. 
Damian had taken to calling you ‘sister’, often challenging and teasing you when he could, you’d developed a relationship where he’d go to you for company. You’d sit in the garden and take in the life around you, while he sat a few feet away and drew it.
Once, he drew you while you weren’t looking, when he finished, he handed it to you without a word and walked away. In the bottom right corner you read ‘Y/n Wayne-Kent’ in neat handwriting, just below that, ‘sister’. That was the first time he’d used that word for you. Your heart swelled. 
You continued seeing Steph, Barbara, and Cass, regularly having lunch with them and talking with them on the phone. Barbara, or as you now called her, Babs, was always there to guide you when you needed it, she’d often send you small gifts from time to time, like jewelry that reminded her of you.
Cass and you would often find the most peaceful company in each other. She would listen to you talk about all the things you'd been learning, telling you about her own experience adjusting to a new life.
Steph and you bonded over poorly written hallmark movies, she always giggled madly when you would point out plot inconsistencies, wearing the most confused expression she had ever seen on a person, you didn’t understand why at first, you would just state facts, but you always enjoyed the time with her. She always says you guys should start a podcast, and you always agree. You hope she never asks you what a podcast is... because you genuinely didn't know.
True to his word, you didn’t see Jason often, but there were a few instances  where you felt particularly suffocated by Bruce’s training that you took him up on his offer to take you somewhere he wasn’t. Those moments were... nice. Every time, he would bring food, and take you to his apartment, where you talked about books and he introduced you to some of his favorite movies. You didn’t know why he and Bruce didn’t get along, but you chose not to pry.
Alfred had taken a liking to you instantly, he enjoyed giving you etiquette lessons, and would bake all kinds of scones and cookies for you to try. His humor was at times very dry and sarcastic, which never failed to make you laugh. He taught you how to bake once, finding you were exceptionally good at it, ‘Miss Y/n, I think we’ve found your natural talent’. You hadn’t expected to be good at it, but Alfred said you were phenomenal. 
You’d also train with Clark 3 times a week, getting even closer with the Kents, integrating yourself in both families. It was interesting being part of two very different families. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Clark had shown you a lot about your powers, but it was never just training. It had become a necessity for the two of you to fly to some famous landmark and have lunch together, before flying back to Smallville for more training.
Clark was constantly trying his best for you, he still had his regrets from his initial relationship with Conner, and although he was forgiven and their relationship was rebuilt, he knew he lost time. And he absolutely refused to repeat that and hurt someone else who didn’t deserve it. 
You always stayed for dinner, you found that you could never say no to Jon, the one time you tried was awful, you felt so bad that you went back the next day and took him shopping. With Bruce's card, duh.
Jon was stuck to you like glue whenever you were over. He always insisted on sitting by you and talking to you about whatever he’d been up to. He flew around with you a lot, you guys would play games that he taught you how to play. Your favorite moments were when he and Damian would allow you in to watch them play video games because ‘How do you not know how to play video games? That’s just wrong. We’ll teach you.’
Conner had spent more and more time with you as well, telling you about a lot of social cues, the importance of boundaries, etc. He was determined to help you adjust in every way he could, he shared his experiences with you when he first started working in teams. You learned a lot from him, he was very affectionate with you, but in that awkward-older-brother way. He’d give you a soft pat on the back and a smile, he knew you’d do just fine. 
Lois became your role model, you truly admired her. She was strong, outspoken, confident. She helped you not be afraid of forming your own opinions and voicing them. One time she saw you yell at Bruce over something he’d done, and all she could do was smile proudly.
These people whose lives you just appeared in one day, very quickly became your family. Every day you were reminded of how lucky you were to have come to care for them as much as you do. Bonding with them was nice, and you very quickly understood the appeal of having family.
These are people who care for you unconditionally, simply because they want to. Because every moment that they spend with you, they choose to.
And just like that, you were ready to meet the team. You had learned to combine your combat skills with your powers, if you need to, you can fight in mid air. You’d learned to incorporate your abilities into your technique to enhance your own personal style. And it felt amazing.
You knew every possible way to deliver an effective, non-lethal blow.  Of course, you needed a suit. Bruce offered to enhance the one you had worn the day they rescued you, but you wanted a new one. To you, that suit represented what you were created to be, and that is not who you are. You wanted something true to yourself, and he understood and wholeheartedly supported you. Damian helped you make a sketch, and together you’d designed the perfect representation of you. And you became Eclipse. The alignment of two heroes, though unintentional, created a whole new hero. You.
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audisive · 1 month
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♪ WEST COAST. (💌) – next part
౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader
synopsis: soap accidentally finds out about simon's girl.
tags: fluff, romance, simon is a big baby !! let us all accept this fact, soap and his assumptions, uh bad jokes, very rushed fic, crack ?, reader can indeed fix simon
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Soap isn't sure when his assumptions started, nor is he sure how it got to Gaz and Price himself. 
Maybe it was when he started to notice that Ghost left base whenever he could. (How come ye never leave base? It's a hassle havin' to go back and forth for nothin', Johnny.) Maybe it was the smudged color of red and pink on his balaclava, the lingering perfume on his hoodie, or his new wallet taking the place of one that was once worn out.
"Wha's yer favorite perfume, LT?" "My enemies' sweat and tears."
(It's well-known that despite the fact that Ghost does consider the 141 to be his family, he keeps his personal life very private and away from them. They respect that, in turn, but let's face it, Soap is nosy.)
Really, it was an accident. Soap swears it was!
He just happened to be passing by his lieutenant in the bar where the team had all gone to celebrate a wreck of a mission that they've managed to successfully finish. Truly, it was an accident when his eyes caught a glimpse of Ghost's new wallet, and he really, very much so did not mean to watch a little too long – long enough for it to open and reveal a hefty amount of cash and a small square of colors, barely noticeable. 
Soap's feet move before he could quietly search for more.
"Got a new wallet, aye?" He slides beside the taller man smoothly, just as the Brit had grunted out another order of Bourbon. Ghost hums in acknowledgement.
"Y'got a crush on me or somethin', Johnny?"
Soap chuckles even if the other does not. "A just happened tae see it. Fancy little thing."
It doesn't take long before Ghost disappears into the night, but the Scot swears his pace was a bit faster than usual when he left the awfully-smelling bar, and Gaz would be lying if he said he didn't see the little picture of a pretty bird tucked away in his scarily huge lieutenant's wallet.
It's not that Soap often makes bold assumptions about people and their personal lives, not when they're out of reach from him, but can you really blame him for thinking that the words 'Ghost' and 'girlfriend' do not sound right in the same sentence? Would it be considered an assumption this time if he'd seen the photo himself? Surely, his superior isn't some perverted freak who keeps an image of a breathtaking woman he randomly found in his private items. Uh, he hopes not, at least.
"Bullshit!" is what a drunken Soap yells when the Brit nonchalantly discloses to the team, without hesitation, that he is simply not interested in dating. He spills everything he's gathered in the past few months, from the smallest hints to the biggest; the unfamiliar strand of hair on Ghost's hoodie to the wallet from months ago.
"A'm no crazy!" Soap convinces no one as he's ushered back to the barracks for making such an insane assumption about the lieutenant in his unreliable state. Ghost's lips curl up into a smirk against the cold glass of Bourbon in his hand, sat back and relaxed with his legs spread wide.
Call him a big baby (he is) for making a fool out of his sergeant instead of just telling the truth and bragging about his angel to the others, but can you blame him? He just wants to keep you tucked away in his pocket, away from everyone else. What are you talking about, lovie? 'Course 'm not ashamed of you. You're just too pretty for them, is all. Gotta keep m' girl safe, yeah?
Besides, they don't have to know the way Simon melts into the nook of your neck when he gets home from deployment or know that he uses your lavender-scented shampoo. And no, it doesn't matter that Johnny knows. It's his word against the lieutenant's. He spares his LT and turns a blind eye this once.
When the time is right, Simon is sure to properly introduce his heart to his unspoken family. For the time being, he just wants to keep you his pretty little secret.
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    divider by @cafekitsune !
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✨Sensitivity✨
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I am an absolute SLUT for Luci’s wings so I wanted to write something with them :), huge thank you to @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis for the help 💖
Also I’m legit on a cruise ship rn, but @amberlouise473 knows I gotta feed y’all like I’m tossing corn to my chickens 🤣
Lucifer x f!sinner reader
Summary: You’re super curious about Lucifer’s wings, but neither of you knew how sensitive they were. You didn’t know how sensitive you could be either…
Warnings: 18+, smut, dry humping, ruined clothes, pet names, oral (f receiving), face riding, over stimulation, multiple orgasms
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It was time for bed and Lucifer was still working. You knew he worked late sometimes but this seemed a little later than usual. You decided to take a look to see if he was still in his office. Sure enough, you saw him sitting down at his desk when you entered the room. But when you looked closer, you saw that he’d fallen asleep at his desk, his head resting in his arms. He looked so peaceful lying there, you almost didn’t want to disturb him. But you knew he’d feel a lot better if he actually slept in your bed instead of hunched over his desk. Quietly, you walked towards him trying not to make any loud noises that might startle him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking it lightly.
“Luci?,” you whispered, “Luci, it’s time for bed, wake up sleepy head.” He moaned quietly, but your shaking didn’t seem to have done the trick. You shook his shoulder a little hard. “Luci, c’mon hon.” Nothing. You took your other hand and placed it on his other shoulder, shaking him even more. “Lucifer!,” you nearly screamed!
With that, Lucifer’s eyes shot open, pushing himself off the desk. “AAHHH!!! WHAT?!?! What’s going on?!,” he yelled. You never saw him so frazzled before, it was kind of cute. But what you really didn’t expect was to see Lucifer’s wings spring out from his back. It must have been an involuntary reaction from the shock of being woken up so suddenly. His eyes found yours and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Oh, it’s you, darling,” he breathed. “You really scared me there! I guess I must have fallen asleep, forgive me.” You were only half listening to him at this moment, your gaze was still fixed on his angelic wings. You’d only seen them once or twice before, but never for long. It was then that Lucifer turned his head and noticed what had caught your attention. “Oh! Sorry about that, it’s a defense mechanism, as silly as that sounds. I’ll put them away-”
“No, wait!”, you shouted louder than you meant to. Lucifer cocked an eyebrow at you, not understanding why you had stopped him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just…I never get to see your wings. They’re really beautiful.”
A light blush dashed across his face, he gave you a shy smile. “O-oh, thank you! I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me.”
“That’s a shame,” you pouted, “I think they’re incredible.” You walked closer to him to get a better look at them. Their white and red coloring were breathtaking. Their length took up almost the entirety of the room you were in, and his office was not small in the least. A tiny part of you wondered if he always had red feathers, or if they had changed after he…
Perhaps that was a question for another time.
“Are they heavy?,” you inquired.
“Oh! Umm, I don’t think so,” Lucifer pondered. “I don’t really notice if they are. I might have gotten used to them over the last 10,000 or so years.”
“Can I…touch them?,” you asked shyly, averting Lucifer’s gaze.
He smiled. “Of course, love. Let’s go back to our room, shall we?”
Lucifer’s wings disappeared for now as he gently grabbed your hand and led you out of his office. Once you reached your bedroom, he unfastened his shirt and threw it off to the side. It made you blush, even though his bare chest was not a new sight to you. Lucifer noticed your reddened face and smirked.
“It’s a little easier this way, don’t you think?,” he chuckled. He walked over to the bed and sat down, crossing his legs in the process. He tapped his thigh, offering you a seat in his lap. You smiled and wrapped your legs around his torso, straddling him. “You ready?,” he asked with a little smile. You nodded your head eagerly. In an instant, his three sets wings appeared again. You noticed something was a little different though.
“I could have sworn they were bigger,” you puzzled.
“No, you’re right, they were,” Lucifer laughed. “I can control how large or small they need to be. They might have broken something in here if they were any bigger!”
You chuckled lightly. They were even more breathtaking up close, his scarlet feathers glistened even in the dim lighting of the room. You stuck out your hands and touched the top of his first set of wings. Unexpectedly, Lucifer inhaled sharply from your touch, screwing his eyes shut. You pulled away instantly.
“Oh no!,” you gasped. “Did I hurt you? I swear I barely touched them! I’m sorry!”
Lucifer exhaled slowly and opened his eyes again. “No, no, it’s alright, love,” he cooed, “it wasn’t painful. I just didn’t expect the sensation. Let’s just say they’re…more sensitive than I originally thought.” It was only then you felt a bump forming between your legs.
Oh…OH!
You quickly caught on to what he was referring to. And having you straddle his lap probably wasn’t helping. A small smirk crept across your face. You couldn’t resist the urge to make him squirm from your touch; the thought excited you.
“Well, in that case…” you smiled slyly, reaching out for his wings once more. This time, you gave them a slightly firmer grip than before. Lucifer nearly yelped from your touch and buried his face into the crook of your neck. You ran your hands up and down the tops of his wings, almost massaging them in a way. Lucifer was unable to hold back his moans.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart,” he panted.
You loved the sight of him bending so easily to your simple touches. You wondered if you could break him. You began to shift your hips in his lap, grinding on the now very apparent bulge in his pants. Lucifer nearly sobbed as you ground your hips against him. You moved your hands down to his second set of wings to give them some attention. You could tell he was unraveling quickly.
“D-Dear,” he choked out, “i-if you don’t stop, I’m g-gonna…f-fuck…”
His plea only made you grind against him at a faster pace while continuing to stroke his sensitive wings. At this point he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, only broken moans and gutural sounds left his lips. You moved your hands down to his smallest set of his wings, pinching them between your fingers.
“FuckfuckfuckFUCK,” Lucifer cried out as your movements finally pushed him over the edge. He bit down on your shoulder as he came, completely ruining in pants. Once he came down from his high, he looked into your eyes, almost distraught.
“I’m…I’m so sorry,” he whimpered. “I-I didn’t think that…I didn’t mean to…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. His wings disappeared from sight as he buried his head into you chest
“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you told him as you lifted his head up to plant a tender kiss to his lips. The small tears that had formed in his eyes fell down the side of his face, but you wiped them away with your thumbs. “Luci, please don’t apologize,” you soothed. “You never have to feel sorry for that! Did you feel good?”
Lucifer steadied his breathing, trying his best to calm down. “Yes, love, it was amazing. You’re amazing.” He lifted you off his lap and placed you on the mattress while he stood up, discarding the rest of his now filthy clothes. “But I absolutely refuse to be the only one being pleasured tonight.”
Without warning, Lucifer leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, filing your mouth with his tongue. You moaned against his lips, feeling as though you might be devoured by him. Lucifer tugged at the hem of your pajama pants, asking permission to remove them. “Mhmm,” was all you could mumble. In one swift motion, your pants had vanished and all you felt was the cool air on your legs. Lucifer brought down his fingers to your folds, loving the feeling of how wet you were for him. He captured your moan on his lips, but suddenly pulled his fingers away, leaving you to whine in protest.
Lucifer broke your kiss and brought his soaked finger to his lips, tasting your sweet nectar. “Mmm, you always taste so delectable, darling,” he marveled. You couldn’t help but blush at his words, he knew just what buttons to press when it came to you. He crawled back up on the bed and laid flat on his back, his head propped up by the pillows. “Come have a seat, sweetheart,” he teased as he pointed to his coy smiling face.
Your face became extreme hot as you crawled towards the demon king. You made your way on top of him and came to a halt when your dripping cunt hovered right above Lucifer’s eager smile.
“A meal fit for a king, truly,” he laughed as he dug his face into your aching pussy. You nearly screamed as his forked tongue worked his magic along your slit. He devoured you, making sure every inch of you was consumed. His lips found your clit and started to kiss and suck at it. He’d only just started and you were ready to snap.
“O-Oh my God, Lucifer, shhhiiittt, I’m so close…s-s-so close…,” you whined.
“God can’t hear you down here, angel,” he teased you before continuing to lap at your folds. He made quick work of you, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.
“Fuuuuccckkkk, imcummingIMCUMMIMG,” you screamed as you finally felt your walls clench and spasm around nothing. Lucifer happily swallowed your juices as your orgasm started to recede. You tried to lift yourself up off Lucifer’s face, but he kept a firm grip on your legs.
“I’m not done with you, love,” he chuckled. With a snap of his fingers, golden shackles formed around your ankles, the chain hooked underneath Lucifer’s back. A twisted look of fear and passion flashed across your face. You were trapped.
“L-Luci…what are you-” you tried to asked but were cut off by another long lick up your sensitive cunt. A gutural moan escaped your mouth, you still hadn’t fully recovered from your orgasm.
“I thought it would only be fair to ruin you, since you ruined my clothes,” he chastised playfully. “But if at any time it becomes too much for you, tell me and I’ll let you go immediately, okay?”
“Al-Alright,” you stuttered, trembling from the anticipation.
Lucifer hummed against your lower lips. “I’ll make this a little easier for you, sweetheart.” You saw Lucifer’s form start to change beneath you. His horns had erupted from his head while his eyes shifted to a deep red and gold color with onyx irises. “Something for you to hold onto,” he murmured sensually.
Tentatively, you took hold of his horns and braced yourself for his next move. You didn’t have to wait long before you felt his tongue attacking your cunt once more. The grip you had on his horns could have torn your skin clean off with how tight you were holding them while he nipped and sucked your overstimulated clit. Before you knew it, your second orgasm hit you even harder than the first. Then your third, your fourth, your cunt was getting absolutely abused by Lucifer who hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down since he started. After your fifth orgasm washed over you, your legs had given out from under you, completely collapsing on top of Lucifer.
“No more…,” you begged. “No more, please…”
Lucifer snapped his fingers and the shackles around your ankles disappeared in an instant. You conjured up the remainder of your strength to push yourself off him and roll over onto your side, an absolutely breathless mess. You could hardly keep your eyes open. You could feel yourself losing consciousness until Lucifer pulled you flush to his chest.
“You did so well, my dear,” he murmured against your ear. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?”
“Sleep…” was all you could muster. Lucifer chuckled lightly, kissing your cheek ever so softly.
“Goodnight, love,” you heard him whisper as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. It was the best sleep you ever had.
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“I just think they’re neat!” - Me w/ Lucifer’s wings also Lucifer inventend pussy eating, this is fact, ALSO also something something handlebar horns
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beamergirll11 · 10 months
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Imagine Konig and Ghost having sex with you, Konig is nervous and Ghost is barking instructions.
NSFW USE HEADPHONES
Full Audio
Credit:Badjhur
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Feelings Thawed
Character; Cater Diamond
Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, pining, ice skating (to various degrees of success)
Word Count; 650+
Author's Note; This is a present/thank you to my mutual @i-like-forgs. I hope you enjoy this ice skating scene with Cater, and that you get to skate soon!
As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist
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The brisk wind bit at your nose, and you pulled up your scarf, trying to keep away the offending wind. Around you it was a winter wonderland, all made possible in the temperate conditions thanks to Cater, who was filming you skating around on the frozen pond’s surface.
“You know,” you hollered, making sure that you caught his attention, “you should join me! It’s fun!” You came to a stop by the pond’s edge, where Cater was standing with a large thermos.
Cater just shot you a wink, handing you the thermos. “This is for you though, silly!” 
He was deflecting, you could tell; behind that bright and cheery smile that he always seemed to wear around others, you knew when there was something off with Cater. You accepted the thermos though, and took a sip of the spicy apple cider, still piping hot.
You gave him a look and pulled lightly on his coat sleeve. “Yes, but it’s more fun with others, come on Cater!” You stepped back onto the ice, and slowly skated near him, waiting with an eager smile.
He looked at you, and then back at the ice, but he stayed standing in the light snow, shooting you that smile. “But I can’t take photos if I’m out there with you!” He scratched at the back of his neck.
Liar. “Cater,” you looped back around and stepped onto the bank, balancing on your skates, “do you not know how to skate?”
Cater’s smile turned sheepish, and his ‘ahahaha, looks like my gig is up’ chuckle made its appearance. He had been found out. “Never got the chance to,” he hid his face slightly in his scarf, either to keep the cold at bay or to hide that his cheeks were turning pink. “So I’d just slow ya down.”
You took his hand into yours, “Well, I could teach you if you wanted. Just a warning though, you’re gonna fall on your butt a lot, might get a few bruises.”
Cater looked down at your entwined hands. Mittens and gloves separated your skin from touching one another, but Cater could swear that he could feel the sensation nonetheless through the layers of fabric.
“You would? Even if I pull you down with me?” 
The last question wasn’t just about the ice skating; Cater didn’t want to force you to do anything that you didn’t want to… and that included being his friend. His heart seemed to whisper stronger emotions though, but he didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had.
You walked him out to the ice, and the both of you swiftly fell down on the ice, hard. But you just laughed and got right back up again, “Well, we did just fall. There isn’t anything scary about falling down; yes it stings and might leave a gnarly bruise, but in order to move forward we have to fall and get back up. So yes, is what I guess I’m saying.”
Cater looked up at you, the sun illuminating you and the snow glittered behind you. You were holding your hand out again, waiting for him. And Cater took your hand. 
It took him a while to get the hang of it, and he fell down quite a bit, but every time he fell down you helped him back up. And by the time that the sun was setting in the west, the both of you were cold, and both were going to wake up tomorrow with some bruises. It was fun though, which is all that mattered… but that whisper in Cater’s heart was by now singing, and maybe he would listen to it, but for now, he was happy with how the way things were, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, especially with how much you had smiled today. Your smile and knowing that you had fun with him was enough.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tags; @eynnwwyjth, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @silvers-numberonefan, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii
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oceantornadoo · 27 days
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two lieutenants. (simon riley x f!reader, all fluff)
not supposed to happen, not really. but the higher ups are finding their morality (where was it all these years ago?) and want to pat themselves on the back for adding a woman to the team.
simon is prepared to hate you, someone taking his spot. this one thing he's done in his life well, the one family he can protect. it itches him in a place he can't shake, the thought of change, of a new person. someone who will stare at his skeleton ways and his gruff voice, someone who will judge but not understand.
but then he meets you, tinkling laugh with doe eyes. calculating in your military knowledge, respectful of the 141's history. never overstepping, never trying to take his place, simply wanting to learn. he tries to hate you, tries to dump sugar in your tea and hide your eye black, but you just laugh and make a face at the sweetness, drawing an extra makeup stick out of your cargoes.
he needs to hate you, but you wash his extra masks without asking on the days he can't touch them for the blood that's laced into the seams. you include his cigarettes on base grocery runs and pour over tactical maps with him until the wee hours, understanding his fundamental need to know everything, more than what's in the briefing papers.
you are prepared to be intimidated by the ghost, the killing machine without a name. you know you're the only woman on an all-male team, but even you can't work friendship miracles. then you meet him and he cocks his head and sizes you up, seeing you as a threat instead of a piece of meat. someone worth considering, not a sideshow, not eye candy.
you try to be scared of him, but how could you when he always leaves an extra tea bag in the almost-empty box? when he keeps hair ties in his front pocket because yours always seem to break in between missions. he listens to your stories and nods thoughtfully, not needing to preen and puff his status like men you've met before.
you need to stay away, but he takes off his gloves in front of you that first time and suddenly you can't. he tells you to call him simon and that he likes the way you say his name, your dissimilar accent coming through. he brushes stray hair from the nape of your neck during a desert mission, tucking it back into your bandana, and you can't remember why you ever intimidated by this man who makes you earn his comfort and care, but who gives it endlessly once you've got it. he's your simon and you're his partner in crime, and suddenly you two could never imagine a team without two lieutenants.
--
im not always into power/rank play i want to be RESPECTED
(don't get me wrong it still eats sometimes)
part one part two part three part four
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imagine-darksiders · 28 days
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I'm still feral about him.
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softspiderling · 23 days
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will never get over this picture. everyone just vibing and he’s over here posing like😭😭😭 why are you touching your titty like that sir? slutty
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ohdeerfully · 2 months
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I just read one of your works with Alastor ears and KAKAISKSNSMSDHJSJ IT WAS ADORABLE, can you write one about the reader finding out Alastor has a tail and he's all flustered and nervous about it because well HES THE RADIO DEMON HES SCARY and he can't be scary when his tail wags when the reader praises him (MAKE IT WHOLESOME PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE)
HELLOOO I LOVE ALASTOR TAIL!! tail + more sleepytime = deadly fic combo THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST!
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Silky Fur
alastor x reader (comfort/fluff) TW: none? join my discord!
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After a year of being together, you and Alastor had fallen into a rather steady nightly routine, though sometimes he was too busy with Satan Knows What and would leave the hotel and you wondering if he would come back to you for the night. When this happened, you often didn’t see him till the next morning—or, even the afternoon.
Lately, that “sometimes” had turned into every night. For the past week. And it was starting to make you feel… kind of shitty, you couldn’t even lie to yourself. You spent so many hours reasoning and making excuses for him—he was an Overlord, after all. No wonder he was so busy! Plus, you just so happened to fall into his life; you shouldn’t expect him to just give up his duties for you.
You looked at the ceiling, arms spread out on either side of you as you tried to convince yourself to stop feeling bad for the sixth night in a row. You missed him next to you, and started to find it harder and harder to get to sleep without his company. You craved him, and you wondered if he craved you in the same way—if he even missed you.
You sat up with a groan after a few more minutes, letting your feet dangle off the side of the bed. It was pointless, you decided, just laying down doing nothing. If you couldn’t sleep, you might as well go do something productive. You threw on a hoodie and made your way down the long corridor, and then down the steps.
This late in the night, the sky had an eerie red glow. It filtered through the curtains of the large hotel windows, casting long, sharp shadows that made your skin crawl if you looked too long. No matter how long you lived in Hell, you never got used to the unfriendly ambience. You had to remind yourself that you were safe in the hotel. You stuffed your hands in the pockets of your hoodie and looked towards your feet as you walked.
There was some paperwork regarding a couple residents you promised Charlie you would help her process. So, you decided you could get a headstart on finishing them, although you didn’t really see the point in the paperwork itself; it was all just going to be horrible criminal records that Charlie would try desperately to ignore.
You opted for the hotel lobby over the cramped office, spreading out the papers across the low coffee table. It wasn’t very comfortable, but you were glad to at least be out of the room.
You sat for a mind numbing amount of time, only listening to the ticking of a faint clock as you processed the information for the residents. It was times like this that made you want to curse Alastor for refusing to allow any sort of modern technology into the hotel. You get it, of course, with Vox and all—but, man, what you wouldn’t give to just have an easy spreadsheet to type this all into.
If you weren’t tired before, you sure were now. Your eyes drug across the papers, blearily taking in the information. You blinked heavily, trying to rid your vision of the tears of exhaustion. You slumped back with a sigh, the pages loosely held in your hands as you rested your eyes for a moment.
Bad idea.
Almost immediately, sleep overtook you, papers slipping through your fingers and drifting across the floor in every direction as your consciousness faded away.
You woke again when you felt your body jostling, then suddenly lifted. It took a minute to wake up enough to peer through cracked eyelids and see that you were being carried up the hotel stairs. You felt familiar arms cradling your back and legs, and the firmness of a chest that your head rested against.
You didn’t need to look up to know who it was. That staticy feeling in the air and prickling your skin was enough to know. You let your body relax again, but couldn’t seem to catch sleep again.
He hummed a gentle tune as he walked, using his knee to turn the doorknob to your shared room. He pushed it open with his shoulder and walked you in.
You felt the plush sheets of your bed as he sat you down, but you pushed yourself back up into a sitting position to look at him. Stare at him. You hoped he could pick apart your emotions just by the way you glared. If he did, he made no attempt at asking what was wrong, and merely looked back at you with his slightly glowing red eyes and wide grin.
“You’ll hurt your back, falling asleep on the couch like that!” He started to chastise you playfully. He turned his back to you and opened up a drawer against the wall.
“Where have you been, Al,” You asked, ignoring his comment. You looked towards your feet. It was hard questioning him, because he didn’t take much seriously, no matter how serious you felt. There was a lump in your throat as you spoke.
“Busy as usual, my dear,” He replied in a sing-song voice. A quiet jazz tune emanated from the microphone atop his cane. Or, would that make it a radio? Both, probably. He rummaged through that drawer for a moment, before pulling out a thin, plain shirt and fuzzy pajama pants.
He walked back over to you, and you noticed the way his eyes flicked across your face, examining your expression. Still, he said nothing. You’d like to think he felt guilty, and didn’t want to admit it—but, truly, you doubted it. He wasn’t one for guilt, after all.
“I’ve been pretty lonely for a week, you know,” You said, folding your arms. “I’d at least like a better explanation.”
You allowed your arms to fall when he pulled at your elbows. You lifted them above your head as he gingerly gripped the edges of your hoodie and pulled it off. He quickly replaced it with the shirt he had grabbed earlier. He followed similar motions with your pants.
As angry as you were, you appreciated intimate moments like this with him. Moments so close, so vulnerable and bare, but still comfortable and sensitive. It was weird, with him being the Radio Demon and all.
“Maintaining turfs and deals is exhausting work, ma moitie, and there’s a few souls that haven’t been keeping up with their side of our bargains,” Alastor explained rather indifferently. Though, you could tell by the strain in his smile and the clipping in the radio static that he was trying his best to be delicate and honest—as possible as that is with Alastor.
“Just– tell me something next time, at least, ‘kay?” You felt embarrassed by the practically begging tone in your voice, but Alastor didn’t seem to notice.
“I suppose it is wrong for a gentleman to leave his lady questioning,” Alastor joked. He meant it, though, and he carefully smoothed your hair in an attempt at comfort.
He stepped away from you, and you frowned at the sudden space. The frown was quickly replaced by a wide smile when you noticed Alastor removing his sharp coat and carefully hanging it by the door.
What a treat, you thought, as you watched him discard the layers of his outfit. Your mouth fell open when he turned his back to you.
“You have a tail?” You asked. Alastor’s ears twitched back for a moment, stiff.
Clear as day, right in front of your eyes, was a tail you had somehow never seen before. Delicate, fluffy, and red with black—just like his ears. You couldn’t stop the stunned laugh that escaped your mouth.
“Regretfully, I do,” Alastor responded. He quickly turned back to face you. His nose was scrunched in disdain and his lips were curled in a frustrated smile. “Don’t talk about it. To anybody.”
You laughed again and quickly beckoned him towards the bed. He complied and sat down next to you. He had noticeably sat in such a way that his waist was angled to keep his tail out of sight. 
You pouted at him, wordlessly motioning towards what you both knew you wanted.
He narrowed his eyes at you. “I’m not a pet, nor a toy,” He said roughly. The static in his voice was heavy. You knew he was embarrassed, and that made your grin all the wider. It probably rivaled his own harsh smile.
“I’ll never, ever, ever ask again, ever,” You promised, holding out your pinky. Alastor’s eyes rolled at the motion. Alternatively, he held out his palm for you to shake.
You eyed his hand, then looked back up to him. You jerked your pinky towards him, urging him to take it instead. You weren’t about to actually bind your promise in a real deal. You knew in, like, a week you would probably beg him to see his tail again. 
“How incredibly childish,” He sighed. Still, he curled his hand into a fist and connected his sharp pinky with your own. “I won’t forget about this.” He threatened.
“Yeah, yeah, show me the goods,” You said with a sly smile. Alastor stared at you for a few seconds, narrowed his eyes, and roughly twisted his waist so that his tail turned towards you. He kicked his leg up and over the other, and folded his arms all sassy-like and impatiently waited for you to finish your very important mission.
You smiled gratefully, and gingerly settled your hands on the tail. It was so incredibly soft. As much hatred he seemed to hold for the thing, Alastor obviously took great care in the fur, keeping it silky smooth and combed. 
It seemed sensitive, and you noticed how his ears twitched and turned in response to your touch. His eyes were cast away from you, and his brows were furrowed. Was he blushing? No, probably a trick of the light.
“Your tail is super soft, Al,” You complimented. “Probably the best in all of Hell.”
“Are you quite finished,” He asked through gritted teeth, his eyes clenched shut. His own body betrayed him, though, as his tail wagged at you slightly. You held in a squeal of delight at the sight, knowing he would probably leave you right then and there. However, you had been at it for a few minutes and didn’t want to push your luck any further. You sighed in response, and removed your fingers from his tail. 
“I guess, for now,” You said playfully. This elicited a sharp look from the Radio Demon.
“For forever,” He claimed. “We shook pinkies.” 
You managed to hold in the laugh from his words. It was impossible to take him seriously as he said that, especially as he sat with a tail on full display and ears quirked backwards in embarrassment.
You yawned, opting to stop responding to him. You tugged at the hem of his shirt as you fell back into the mattress, and he easily let himself fall alongside you. He was settled next to you, and you practically magnetically attached yourself to him. He was stiff for a few minutes, but slowly unwound and relaxed next to you.
It didn’t take long at all for you to fall asleep. With the familiar heat and weight of his body in the mattress next to you, you were comfortable again for the first time in a week. The feeling of Alastor’s nails playing through your hair was the final straw as a deep sleep erased your senses.
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shawtuzi · 1 year
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the big dick nerd!eren drabble did so good so here’s some more!!!!
let’s discuss his first blowjob shall we. the whole thing started out pretty innocent just a lil makeout session bc you were becoming incredibly bored of the movie you were watching (love & basketball—his choice surprisingly). he just looked so pretty w his hair in a neat bun and black glasses framing his face so perfectly how could you not wanna jump his bones??? eren felt your hand trail up his thigh towards the place where he needed you most and felt his blood run cold, “just let me see it renny please? ‘feels so big i have to see it,” you purred squeezing eren’s dick over his sweats. “o-okay yeah a peek wouldn’t hurt would it?” he chuckled breathlessly, pulling his sweats down mid thigh and you were met with the biggest erection you’d ever seen in your life straining against the soft material of eren’s briefs. your silence began to worry eren and just as he was about to pull his sweats back up you wrapped your dainty hand around his wrist stopping him, “don’t be embarrassed baby i wasn’t thinking anything bad i was just…..admiring it,” you smiled pressing a kiss to his blazing cheek. “o-oh—uh okay it’s not too small or anything? do you think i could make you—um f-feel good with it?” he asked his eyes wide with wonder. you moved your body in front of eren’s and laid on your stomach, your feet swaying in air dreamily. “i think it’s more than enough—in fact i don’t know if i’ll even be able to fit it all in my pussy you’re just so big ren,” you fake pouted, flicking your tongue out to get a taste of the pre staining eren’s briefs. before eren knew it his entire dick was sheathed down your throat, your spit with a mixture of his precum dripping down your chin and onto his aching, full balls. “yes yes t-that feels so good y/n. do that thing with your tongue again please—fuckkkk yeah mhm mhmmm,” eren whimpered clutching onto his bedsheets for dear life. he’d already came two times—the first time happening just from you suckling on the tip but you didn’t mind at all. not one bit.
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 4 months
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I never really made a request before so that's my first time wish u like it
So I was thinking about some fluff drunk y/n acting all stupid and flirty to bakugo who doesn't like drinking around her because he knows that they both won't have someone to send them home if they got drunk
[Secretly caring]
*Whispering* he also gets a bit touchy if she let's him
*friends to lovers thing*
Wish my explanation was good enough and can't wait for the next chapter of FBRC <3
OUUU this is such a cute idea ! i’m so happy, this is my first request as well so we both have a milestone LMAOOO ! i tried to honour your request as best i could ! <3 (OU and AAAAA im glad you like FBRC ! i hope you’ll keep reading !)
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bakugou katsuki considers himself a mature, mostly rational person.
despite what others, media outlets and even his own damn friends might say, katsuki thinks he’s really not that bad.
sure, he’s flipped off a camera man, cursed out another one…and another one—but who doesn’t have a bad day once in a while ?
he’s changed since he was a kid, he doesn’t get set off as easy anymore most days. he’s learned to be more patient, a little more levelheaded. that’s at least something his shitty friends will tell you.
he’s changed from when he was a kid, he’s grown now. he’s a man.
but right now katsuki feels like smashing your head in with a brick.
"kah-su-kiiiiiiiii... m'sleeppyy" you whine, leaning against his shoulder.
katsuki doesn't regret a lot, but he sure as hell regrets accepting to go out for drinks with you. again. you had said something about 'celebrating getting a day off after a while'.
"never should've accepted goin' out with yer ass." he laments grumpily. despite the fact he says this every single time he goes out to drink with you, he never seems to learn his lesson. he never seems to want to learn his lesson.
truth is, katsuki has grown a lot since his UA days but one thing he hasn't outgrown is his giant rampant crush on you. it's embarrassing how tightly you've got him wrapped around your finger, how easily you can get him to do whatever you want as long as you just asked him to.
he complains and grumbles about it but he'll never, ever, say no to you.
which is how he always, always, ends up in this predicament.
katsuki snaps out of his thoughts when he hears you sniffle.
"y-ya don't like.." you sniffle again " ya don't like hangin' out wif me ?"
fuck.
immediatly it's like a switch had been flipped. he moves his arm so he can wrap it around you and have you lean against his chest. you always got emotional when you were a little too drunk, that usually meant it was time to go.
"no—no, s'not that. i—" he sucks in a breath, cheeks heating up despite the fact he knows there's barely any chance you'll remember this. usually he'd remind you of your embarrassing drunk moments as revenge for making him take you home and taking care of your ass because you were too drunk to, but he'll refrain from mentioning this part.
"i do like hangin' out with you, dummy. quit talkin' stupid." he shushes you softly, unconsciously rubbing your arm comfortingly.
"b-but you said, you regretted goin' out wit me" you pout. fuck, you're cute. katsuki has to fight off the urge to lean down and kiss it away.
"i say a lot of stuff i don't always mean, sweets. you know that." he replies " 'f i didn't wanna hang out with ya, i wouldn't."
you hum pensively, leaning against his shoulder as you think. you smell like something sweet, he can't quite track down what it is, but it's making him dizzy. you've always had the ability to make him lose focus. you're so close and you smell so good and katsuki feels like he's drunk.
"mmyeah...guess that's true" you hiccup. you raise your hand up to trace his jaw line with your finger and he refuses to look at you but he can hear the cheeky little smile in your voice "you like hanging out with me, right ? that's why you always say yes when i ask !
he scoffs "i only say yes 'cuz i know you'd just end up goin' out anyway, you'd get yourself in trouble." he's stiff as a fucking board, he feels like if he moves a little too much he'll say something he shouldn't.
"no i wouldn't" you argue, then you reach your whole hand up to squeeze his cheeks "but even if i did, i know you'd come to save me, mr. dynamight" you giggle
he's so sick of you. katsuki's been in plenty of situations where he was this close to death, but he's certain you're gonna be the death of him.
"time for bed" he grumbles. he lifts you by your shoulders slightly until you can properly stand on your feet "m'getting you home, yer too drunk to be up right now" he asserts, chuckling when you pout at him when he flicks your forehead
"you're not the boss o' me ! 'm completely—oops" you trip forward but katsuki catches you with ease, he's always there to.
you look up at him innocently and he looks down at you with one eyebrow raised "you were sayin' ?" he sassed.
you roll your eyes at him and push off him slightly to stand more comfortably, you stick your tongue out at him. " i said—i'm fine..but if you wanna take me home that badly, i guess i'll allow it" you shrug. katsuki squints then shakes his head, smiling to himself. you catch him and giggle, he can't cover up his chuckle fast enough. you must look stupid to the other people in the bar just sitting there giggling at each other, he realizes. then he remembers he could honestly not give enough of a shit about what these other drunk losers thought, the only drunk loser he cared about was right here in his arms.
right where you belonged.
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you're out like a light by the time katsuki's brought you back to your apartment, but he doesn't mind, he'd expected it anyway. he carries you like a sack of potatoes to your floor. he's glad he'd managed to grab your keys before you fell asleep, having to wrestle the keys from you and risk you getting cranky at him doesn't sound all that nice right now.
he helps you take off your shoes and he's extremely grateful you're just lucid enough to change by yourself. he helps you clean up and brush your teeth, then carries you to bed even though he knows damn well you could walk just fine. not before getting you to down a glass of water.
you're annoying when you're drunk and sleepy, you're whiny and everything is too much work for you. katsuki grumbles right along with you, calling you a pain in the ass, then promptly taking it back when he sees you tearing up again. he grumbles and complains but he knows he wouldn't let anyone else do it for him. not only because he's sure whoever it is wouldn't even be able to do this half as well as he does, but also because despite his better judgement, despite the fact you piss him off to no bounds, you're his to take care of. and he'd be damned if he let anyone else take care of what's his.
so you whine, and he complains, but he truly wouldn't have it any other way.
you insist on wanting him to stay with you and he knows he probably shouldn't. he likes you too much to just casually stay here with you, he knows he won't be able to sleep and he's just going to keep staring at your lashes fluttering as you dream. but you pout at him and plead him so sweetly, he really can't say no to you.
he likes you too much.
he steals one of your hoodies and a pair of sweatpants (he technically isn't stealing—since they're both his to begin with) and climbs into bed with you. you immediatly latch onto him, nuzzling into his shoulder before thanking him.
"for what ?" he mutters sleepily, slowly wrapping his arms around you.
"for.." you interrupt yourself with a yawn, he chuckles "for always takin' care of me..you're the best."
if you were more sober, he'd simply answer with a cocky "tell me something i don't know." but you're not and katsuki's already too far gone, so he squeezes your waist in appreciation then responds " i'm always gonna take care of you."
he's suprised by how soft and sappy he sounds but you suprise him even more when you lean up slightly to press a feather light kiss to the underside of his jaw and whisper a sweet little "love you."
he lays there for a good long while without response, you don't mind because you chose that exact moment to fall asleep. he lays there and he's sure he won't be able to fall asleep now. fuck you for knocking out and leaving him like this, he thinks. he's trying not to give himself false hope, maybe you meant it platonically. he keeps trying and he keeps thinking all night but he's still impossibly giddy.
he was contemplating not telling you anything about last night, but he can't help himself. he's nervous—god, he's so fucking nervous when you wake up while he's getting comfy in your kitchen like it was his, making breakfast. you look groggy and sleepy and hungover, but to him, you still look adorable.
when you're awake enough, munching away at the breakfast he's made, he tells you about last night and his heart slams against his chest when he mentions what you had told him.
though, when he sees how you choke on a piece of your toast, and how flustered you look, like a deer in headlights, his heart beats hard against his ribcage for a completely different reason.
the next time you go out for drinks, it's to celebrate the start of your relationship.
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AAA first request done ! hope you liked this anon <3 if you guys have any request pleassseee lemme know !
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lunasfics · 7 months
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Found Family - Preview
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summary: In which Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent engage in a custody battle over a clone created from both their DNA, or, in which you get saved from a lab and gain two new families who would move mountains for you.
pairing: Bat Family x f! Reader, Supers x f! Reader
full fic is posted here!
a/n: hihihi :) here is a preview of something I've been working on, hopefully it'll be posted in a few days, I hope you like it!
reblogs are appreciated!!
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Clark sat in silence in the batcave, Conner standing to his left, his eyes wide as he stared at you, possessing some features belonging to both he and Bruce, and other features that seemed to be entirely your own.
You stared back, that same stoic nature radiating off of you that radiates off the Batman, however, he noted the defensive look in your eyes, one so similar to the one he saw in Conner when he first met him. He eyed your suit, noting the familiar “S” symbol, only it was a burgundy color, a combination of the Batman and Superman emblems, and he was utterly confused.
He looked over at Bruce, still in his bat suit, his cowl pulled off, “Bruce, what the hell is going on?” 
“I had to call you here because Luthor decided to create another clone. I did the DNA test, Clark, she’s a combination of both our DNA” Bruce looked at him, Dick and Damian standing to his right. It was silent for a moment, you felt like a guinea pig, the way they all stared at you. It made you angry. 
Conner was the first to speak to you, stepping forward before opening his mouth, choosing his words carefully, “What’s your name?” 
You responded immediately, it felt automatic. “Experiment attempt number one. Code G6B24. I was made to be the future killer of the Batman and the Kryptonian.” 
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brewed-pangolin · 19 days
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MDNI 18+
Gym Rat Soap is so outrageously possessive of you that if he comes home to you pleasuring yourself, he takes it as a personal challenge and will go out of his way to make you come solely for him.
And he's not holding back. He'll pull out all his pleasure tricks (except pulling out. That's a possessive no no.)
He starts with his usual tried and true method of fingering you so good against the wall that your legs turn to numbed jelly within minutes. Holding yourself up against his chest while you moan his name into the fabric of his sweat ladened shirt.
"Tha's it, bonnie. Ya come for me. And only me."
Next is his feast. Tossing you onto the dinner table like a sacrificial lamb and delving immediately between your thighs. Lapping at your folds like a starved and dehydrated animal. Hell bent on consuming you whole for his own pleasured ego while you cry his name to the heavens and writhe in steady overstimulation.
"Oh my God, Johnny!"
"No God 'ere, lass. Only me."
To finally close out his pleasured torture and culminate in his ultimate taking of you, he throws you over his shoulder and stomps his way to the bedroom to begin his pièce de résistance. Your calves hoisted onto his shoulders, his hands griping like a vice into the sides of your torso as he pistons his cock at just right angle, making you see stars and completely losing the capacity for speech and all other thoughts until all you could think of was him. And only him.
"Jo-, Jo-, John-"
"Tha's it. Say my name, bonnie."
"JOHNNY!"
And with a series of roars that would undoubtedly have the neighbors calling to report an escaped lion, he empties himself completely into the silken walls of your cunt. Marking you as his own as his hips falter. His hands grabbing at your limp form as he cradles you against his chest and reassures just how good you are for him. For him. And only him.
Gym Rat Soap Masterlist
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morgana-ren · 7 months
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i love angst, and i love your writing, but please, PLEASE, i beg you, could you write some hope of tav ever returning now that the imbecile, has realised the error of his ways 🥺😭 (either way, thank you so much, for all your astarion writtings, it has made me feel things, the angst is real and my masochistic heart loves it🥲)
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First part of the story HERE
Common complaint I got on that one! So I fixed it just for y'all. This ending is much less sad and much more sappy, so here is the comfort you need after all that angst!
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"Darling, will you smile for me? Just once more. Please--"
He feels her cheeks in his palms, the soft skin against his battle-hardened callouses. Desperation cradles his unbeating heart, and for a moment, the emotion is far too much. A searing flame after centuries of frost. A bonfire in a blizzard. It hurts-- it burns--
"My love, I just need you to--"
"Anything my lord, anything at all for you. Simply command me and I will do anything you ask."
"No, I can't-- I-- I won't do it. I won't. I won't!"
"My lord?"
Her head cocks, turning slowly to look upon him, but her eyes-- they are empty; beetle-black and hollow. Her smile is uncanny as a painted doll, her movements disjointed and inhuman. Her teeth are stained crimson with blood, dripping, dripping, ever dripping down, never swallowed, only pooling.
She is light as a feather as she slips away from him, her skin marbling into a sickly gray before ash spreads across her body as a disease, smearing her form into nothingness. Only her face is left untouched, pretty as porcelain, unflinching and unfalling save a small crack that splinters down from her forehead down to her eyes, revealing inky black abyss beneath.
"My lord-- Oh, my tender, vicious lord. I can feel your anguish-- your hunger. Devour me to be whole once more--"
Her blood smells of rot and she--
She is too far gone to save. Too far gone to ever be saved.
"I won't!"
Whirlwind. Pain. Confusion and dread and seeping anguish. A maelstrom of rage and all-consuming despair swelling from within his soul—
—his soul?
The world around him falls away, a wicked tornado thrashing him about, his mind howling in the eternal winds--
And suddenly he is in a chair.
Not a throne. A chair— and a rather uncomfortable one at that.
"What in the hells—"
His vision spins, nausea curling his gut into a wicked tide of sickness barely restrained by his teeth. He tastes stale blood crawling up his throat, threatening to overturn onto the faded rug beneath him.
"Did you see what you wished for, little spawn?"
The voice takes him by surprise. It is not hers, but another, less familiar voice. The wailing animal in his head retreats to a dull roar as his memory creeps back. A brightly colored tent assaults his vision, piecemeal rugs and odd, foreign trinkets abound on makeshift shelves, and before him sits a strange old woman, hood pulled heavy over her straggling gray hair.
"I-- What was that?"
He sees her cracked, aging lips upturn, gnarled hands placed protectively over a strange orb on the table touching his knees. "I have shown you your future, vampling. Was it to your liking?" Panic rises within his stomach again, and though he does not breathe, he clutches his chest. The smell of incense clogs his nostrils and again, the wave of sick threatens to spill forth. Wretched taste of metallic, aged blood sits heavy on his tongue, all sensation too much-- all of it too much.
"No-- No, that cannot be it!"
"This is your path, Pale Elf. The road you walk. The power you seek is well within your grasp, but as I told you before, it will cost you everything."
He vehemently shakes his head, denying it. Denying it before her and all the Gods.
"You told me upon entry that no price was too great for your reward. Do you still agree with this sentiment?"
"No! Not-- not her. Not her. Not that! I couldn't--"
"You can and you shall, sure as the moon follows the sun. You will have everything you ever wanted, but cost of this ritual is plain before you. You cared not for the many souls left to your mercy that are crushed beneath your tyrannical fist in your ascension, but what of the sole one that resides in your heart?"
Her. The light of his life. The air he breathes. The sun on his frigid flesh, the warmth that melts his icy heart.
"No," He hisses, trying to stand, but ultimately unable to muster the strength. "I won't! There-- There must be another way. Show me!"
"There is no other way," She says, solemnly. "It is inevitable."
He swallows down the information like a boulder lodged in his gullet. Her words echo endlessly in his mind, bouncing off the walls and lodging shards of ice directly in his soul.
"What if I-- What if I don't ascend? Tell me, what if I don't?"
She smiles again, teeth flashing through her thin lips. "That is another path, little elf." "I need to know. I-- I need certainty. I won't do this to her, but I--" He pauses, grappling with everything in his mind, desperately flitting about to absorb it all. "If I am going to forgo this, I need to be certain. I need to know that I can protect her, that she will be safe--"
But the woman simply shakes her head.
"Everyone must choose. For some, the path is dark, but for you, you see more than most will ever have the comfort of knowing. I can offer you nothing more. Should you initiate the Rite, you know this will come to pass. I can tell you nothing more if you choose to not. The future is yet unwritten, and the quill resides in your hands." "Then why can I not have both!" He slams a fist on the table, clawing at the soft wood. For the first time in ages, tears prick at his pale lashes and frustration wells a knot in his throat. "Why--" "Because one path is wholly your own, while the other is a tangled web, such is the nature of deals with the Hells. You will get everything you ever wanted and lose everything that made it worth having."
His head slumps, defeated and miserable. Silvery tears slide down the curves of his cheeks, even as he attempts to bite them back. He thought he would find comfort in knowing the future, but all it has given him is utter horror.
"Despair not," She continues. "Yes, you will wither under the sun, an eternally cursed dweller of the night, but all is not lost, is it? The one you love, will she stray from your side?" "I wanted her to have better than that," He sniffles, needling his lip with a fang. "I cannot brave the sun, but her-- She deserves better than that-- better than me."
"And what of what she feels?"
His brows furrow, and he peers up at the woman from tear-beaded lashes.
"You are a night walker; it is in your nature to be selfish. But love is not selfish, little vampling. You must fight your nature, your inherent self-loathing, or your love will always find the fire. What of what she desires?"
"She loves me," He says with absolute certainty. "And I--" "Do you love her?"
"Yes," He hisses, almost insulted that she would ask. "More than anything. I'm here, aren't I?"
"Then the rest matters naught. If you love her, you will allow her the agency to choose-- something you deny her as an ascendent. You must grow past your own follies. To love is to be vulnerable, and you must allow both yourself and her this freedom."
They are hard words to swallow, and yet, he feels the truth resound in them. She would not leave his side, even as he tried to force her to understand. Even as an instrument of his manipulation and schemes came to light, she stood steadfast with him, hand entwined in his, ready to face the fire together.
"I-- I need to know she will be safe."
Again, the woman shakes her head. "You cannot. You must fight fate if you wish to overturn it. You face dire odds, though throwing the dice in your favor now will doom you later should this outcome be the confirmation of your fears."
He sighs, face crinkling as he sniffs once more, summoning the willpower to swallow down the agony of his choice. He finds the strength in his legs to push himself upward from the chair, weak and shaking as a newborn fawn as he does so. "I will do whatever I need to. Anything."
"Then you may yet see this through."
He can hear the fanfare of the circus outside, the bawdy bards strumming away on their lutes and banging on drums, the elated screams of the children and their parents. Facing the light now seems impossible, but he must find his way home to her-- he has to be with her now now now--
"The coin first, boy."
He snaps out of his delirium only long enough to fish his hands into one of his pockets, bringing out a coin. Aged and neglected, the sinister engraving of a skull peers up at him from his palm, ruby eyes gleaming in the light as he tosses it into the woman's knobbily-jointed hands.
"Best of luck to you, night-child," She tucks it away. "We may yet meet again." "No offense, but I hope not."
"Me too, Little Star."
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He pays little mind to the bustling streets and bursting taverns of Baldur's Gate, his feet carrying him back to camp as swiftly as his body will allow. It takes him until sundown even as he damn near jobs, ripping through the tree line and into the ruins with the intensity of a man starved.
"Astarion!" Karlach greets him, trying to wave him over. "I've got a bet with Gale about--" "Where is she?" Astarion immediately cuts her off, looking around frantically.
"Who?" Karlach raises a brow.
"Who else?" Wyll crosses his arms, looking intrigued at Astarion's intensity.
"Oh! In her tent, I think. Why? Gotcha a special something' in town for her, eh?" Karlach tries to rib at him, but he pushes past her without a second glance.
"Bet it's a fancy new dress he needs to tear off of her immediately," Karlach rolls her eyes before returning to her business.
He bursts into her tent to find her hunched over a book, tongue poking from between her teeth, as she scans over the page. This only lasts a few seconds before he scrambles onto the bed, squeezing her as tightly as he can manage, burying his nose into her hair, tears brimming in his eyes once more.
"Woah, hey!" She laughs, carefully setting her book aside, trying to discern what in the hells he is mumbling endlessly into her neck.
Need you-- need you-- love you-- can't lose you-- don't ever--
She hushes him, realizing something has gone terribly, terribly wrong, kissing his head and tugging him close. "Hey, what's wrong?"
She tries to cup his cheeks and bring his face up but he adamantly refuses, hard-swallowing the urge to bawl into her shoulder with every ounce of willpower he has. All he can manage is to cling to her, half sobbing, visions of that terrible future swimming in his head. He cannot let it come to pass, he will not--
And she holds him, cradling him in her arms, hushing him gently. Her face creases with worry, running her hands through his silvery hair as he pulls him into her lap.
"Little Star, what's wrong? You seem so upset. What can I do to make you happy, my love?"
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"Is it done?" Ulma leans down as she enters the tent, carefully dodging the intricate tassels of the blanket strewn over the entryway.
"It is," The strange old woman replies, still rubbing the coin with her worn thumb.
"And?"
"I showed him nothing but truth," She says quietly. "I did not manipulate his vision. Only channeled it."
"That tells me nothing. I need to know if our children are safe."
"I cannot tell you this, Ulma. You know of the ways of our tribe; our relationship with these magics." Ulma's lips purse, her exasperation evident in her humorless expression. "I need to know--"
"His reaction was genuine. That was not my doing. He knows the price of power. I cannot tell you if he will pay it regardless," The old woman's head lifts, a slight mischievous smile playing on her lips. "But I can tell you what I think."
"And what do you think?"
"I have seen his soul-- the heart of it. I believe you will see our children yet. He will spare our heart to spare his own in kind. It beats in that woman," Her eyes twinkle in the low candlelight, a genuine smile widening across her cheeks. "I believe he can find redemption yet."
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mistiell · 6 months
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I’d like to think that once Astarion’s grown comfortable with physical affection, he gets a lot more affectionate with you. Especially when it comes to casual or subtler gestures.
Like an arm draped over the back of the couch when he’s sitting next to you. His arm isn’t actually touching you, but he’s got his thumb hooked just under the collar of your shirt resting idly in the soft well of your clavicle.
Hooking his foot around the back of your ankle or letting his knee press against yours under the table when he’s sitting next to you (which he always is because who else is he supposed to sit next to? Gale??)
Keeping a hold on you when you’re in a crowded space. Holding your sleeve, your wrist, linking your pinkies. Anything to make sure he doesn’t lose you in the chaos.
Always having a hand on your waist, your back, your hip. Part of it is born out of wanting to keep close to you, part of it is born out of a little bit of possessiveness — A subtler way to show you off as his.
Thumbing dirt and grime off your cheeks, adjusting your collar when it’s fallen crooked.
I feel like once he’s stopped doing it out of habit, he’s not super duper into PDA (Still loves on you, obviously. Just more casually), so it doesn’t happen super often when you’re around others, but he’ll peck your cheek or temple every so often as a greeting. Especially when you’ve been apart for short while.
If you’re wearing pants with belt loops, I feel like he’s def the type to pull you to him by them. Just loops a finger through and tugs until you get the hint.
Idk I just feel like he’d be pretty affectionate once he’s warmed up to non-sexual intimacy. Not always, he still has off days as everyone does. But even then, he usually still wants to be close to you.
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l0v3tast3 · 5 months
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ghost with a cute lil succubus gf :3
mdni! f!reader
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simon loves having a succubus as his girlfriend. he loves when he's finally coming home from a mission and barely has the door closed before you're jumping into his arms— it's sweet and romantic at first, kissing him deep and slow and clinging to him, but it doesn't take very long to turn dirty. your legs are wrapped around his waist and it's just too easy to grind your soaked pussy against his growing hard-on, too easy to sink your nails (claws) into his shoulders and suck on and nip at his neck.
simon loves having a girlfriend with a long devil's tail topped with a heart and little horns poking out of the top of her head to match. he loves pulling your head back and rubbing around the bases of your horns, feeling you melt while he walks you both to the bedroom. you'll whine and beg for him to touch you more, more, more, and of course he obliges. simon lowers you to the bed and puts his hands and mouth everywhere. he sucks on your nipples while you're whimpering and (futilely) trying to push him down further. he leaves indents of his canines down your belly before he's kissing your thighs.
simon loves to get you desperate for him and especially loves how easy it is to do. it's basically your default setting around him— until he's rubbing the tip of his cock against your pussy. up and down from your hole to your clit and back, "y'think you deserve my cock? huh?" muttered while his free hand is keeping your hips from bucking up. you're nearly teary-eyed while you beg and plead until he shuts you up by finally pushing into you. you can take him, you're meant to take him, and still, by the time he's buried to the hilt inside of you, your eyes are rolling back and claws are leaving more scratches on him than he had gotten during his last deployment.
simon loves hearing your vocabulary reduced to whiney pleas and praise— "fu-ck- i missed your cock- missed it so much- ah-!"— and other mindless babbles. he loves how your capacity to speak noticeably diminishes with every new way he manhandles you; hunched over you with a hand on the headboard as leverage, then lifting your lower half to meet his hips as he kneels, then folding your thighs to your chest in a breeding press that makes you go nearly limp. "missed this cunt," he'll groan, "made just for me, right, princess?"
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(ノ´ヮ`)ノ*: ・゚ likes, comments n reblogs are always appreciated!!
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