starshinz - Tumblr blog

starshinz · 2 months

Note

i cant aNON ANYWAYS. IM INSANE OSWALD/READER GIVE ME. GRABBY HANDS. NOW.

SEX. AUGH. ME WHEN I. IM DYING BUT. BRAIN IS SAYING SOMETHING LIKE. READERS HIS ASSISTANT AND SOMETHING. HAPPENS? I DONT KNOW I AM TIRED AND DISTRACTED

PLEASE VENT CRAWLER IF YOU HAVE BETTER IDEAS I AM OPEN TO SUGGESTION PLEASE 😭😭

The Secretary

Oswald Cobblepot A.K.A. The Penguin x Male Reader

Reader uses he/him and has a penis

Genre: Smut

Summary: Oswald finds out his favorite employee has a crush on him, and decides he deserves a reward for his hard work.

Content/Warnings: Oswald is oblivious, Oswald’s creepy dirty talk, Oswald can’t flirt or be sexy to save his life, blowjob(reader receiving), inappropriate workplace relations, office sex, Oswald bends you over the desk, a wee bit of biting, one (1) spank, some hair pulling, only sort of proof read (lmk if you spot any typos!)

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out

Notes: Pretzel you absolute fool. You’re lucky I love you. You can have a little Oswald sex as a treat

Oswald Cobblepot was certainly an interesting man, even if “interesting” had a completely different meaning depending on who you asked.

To you, interesting was attractive. It was powerful, but not just in the vein of his enterprise; his power was in his presence, in the very blood that ran through him. His power was in his strategy, in his cunning, in his ruthlessness that shone through at just the right times.

God, what a man.

And you were just lucky enough to snag a secretary position for that man.

Although you thought you’d been more than hiding your little crush, it had been painfully obvious to everyone; everyone but Oswald, of course. No one had EVER had a crush on HIM before, how was he supposed to know the signs?

The way you lingered in his office with a friendly conversation, the way you always had a coffee ready for him, the way you seemed to always have an excuse to be near him…

…Those could all be perfectly normal friend things!

Although, Oswald wasn’t completely free of blame either. He often found himself wondering about you, what you did when you left work, if you had a partner to go home to. Something about that last part always ticked him off a bit, but he couldn’t place what.

It was completely normal for him to worry about his best employee, right? Besides, he wouldn’t know a crush if it slapped him in the face, not to mention that the last time he loved someone it ended…less than favorably.

The possibility of romantic involvement never once crossed his mind.

That is, until a rather frustrated Mr. Penn was called to his office, muttering something about your poor performance.

“Mr. Cobblepot,” He began, quickly closing the door behind him. “There is a rather urgent matter that I must bring to your attention.”

Oswald sighed, sliding his feet off his desk and glaring daggers at Penn as he walked over.

“Urgent, Penn? Really? You said the broken hand dryers in the bathroom were ‘urgent.’”

“I mean it this time, Mr. Cobblepot. It’s about…” Penn paused, leaning in and lowering his voice as if he were afraid someone was listening.

“…your secretary.”

Oswald stood quickly, straightening his tie and adjusting his jacket.

“The secretary? Did something happen to him? Is he alright?”

“He’s fine, Mr. Cobblepot, but I’m afraid he’s having trouble fulfilling his duties.” Penn couldn’t help but let his frustration slip through a bit at his boss’s obvious show of favoritism.

Oswald quirked a brow in confusion.

“What do you mean? He’s been working just fine. Why, just yesterday he stayed late to help me with my paperwork.”

“That’s just the thing, Mr. Cobblepot!” Penn sighed, adjusting his glasses. “He’s been working excellently for you, but he’s been neglecting his other duties, and I think I may know why…”

Oswald returned to his seat, resting his chin in his hand as he waited for Penn to continue.

“I-I think—and, apologies if this is, um, presumptuous—that he maybe, might have a sort of…crush on you—“

Oswald’s eyes slowly widened, and suddenly his heartbeat was so loud in his ears it made it hard to listen to Penn.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Oswald interrupted, “What the hell are you talking about, Penn?”

“W-Well, forgive me sir, but it’s quite obvious. It’s been the talk of the office for the past week! Have you ever noticed how much time he spends in your office? O-Or, how he spaces out when you’re around? He’s practically attached at your hip, sir, and it’s affecting his work.”

Oswald merely nodded, eyes falling to his desk as he processed the words. He wasn’t really sure how to react. On one hand, this was very exciting, knowing that maybe you too had been thinking of him. On the other, it made him nervous and a little embarrassed to think about how improper he had acted around you, wondering if it damaged your view of him.

“Now, Mr. Cobblepot,” Penn continued, “It is up to you how you deal with this, but I suggest that you do something.“

“Yes, yes…I’ll be sure to, um— look into it. You may leave now.”

“B-But Mr. Cobblepot, I also need to tell you about—“

“I said you can leave. Now.”

And with that Mr. Penn was scurrying off, Oswald’s sharp gaze following him until the doors closed once more.

Oswald leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling as he pondered. Was there really a solution here? He wasn’t really worried about your work performance, of course, but now that he knew that you were into him he was worried he would make things awkward. Just thinking about you being here was making him nervous!

He knew that neither of you could just turn off your feelings, and it would be unfair to ask you to do so. It would be even more unfair to fire you, so that was certainly off the table.

Could Oswald even afford a relationship right now? Someone of his status and reputation certainly had a target on his back, and it would put one on yours too. But no one needed to know, Oswald could

keep a secret if you could…

He quickly shook the idea from his thoughts, his mind wandering to less than savory places much too quickly. One thing was for sure, though, he needed to talk to you.

Oswald waited until the next day to summon you to his office. Your heart skipped a beat when you heard the request, and before you knew it you were up and out of your chair. You were always happy to see Mr. Cobblepot, and you made sure to bring your clipboard in case you needed to take notes.

“Mr. Cobblepot?” You called as you knocked on the door.

“Come in,” He replied, eyes already locked onto you as you stepped in as if he had been looking at you through the door.

“Good morning, Mr. Cobblepot!”

Your cheery tone was an unexpected but welcome surprise. Even Oswald had to return your smile.

“Good morning, secretary. How has your day been?”

“Just lovely, Oswald, thank you. Even better now that I get to see you. How about you?”

Oswald stared at you from across his desk for a moment, a pink tint crossing his cheeks.

“Oh, uh— I-I’m just fine, thank you.”

There was a brief period of awkward silence as Oswald collected himself, tugging down his sleeves and drumming his fingers on his desk as he stood. Finally, he cleared his throat before he spoke.

“So, as I’m sure you assumed, there is something I need to discuss with you.”

“Yes, sir?” You replied as you readied your clipboard and pen.

“It’s about your work performance.”

Oswald could see the way your expression dropped. It made him feel bad for using such ominous wording, but he didn’t want to move too fast.

“It has been brought to my attention that you tend to…neglect some of your duties. Is that true?”

You paused, letting out a sigh. It was true, really, but you didn’t want to just stay that. You knew how touchy Oswald could be, and you simply couldn’t afford to lose this job.

“W-Well…” You began, carefully considering your words, “I thought I had been doing decently, but i-if I need to do more…”

“Don’t lie to me, secretary.”

His harsh tone made you flinch. You merely nodded, holding your clipboard against your chest.

“I have also been informed that there is a sort of…rumor going around about you that may be related.”

“…Rumor?”

“Yes. A rumor concerning…your, um, feelings…towards me…”

Your heart skipped a beat. Did he know about your crush? If he did, was he mad? Would he fire you? Or worse, have you killed? And if he didn’t know, what sort of horrible gossip had been going around that he felt the need to call you in for it?

“W…W-What do you mean, sir?”

You were frozen in place as Oswald began to move, slowly making his way around the desk toward you, the click of his shoes loud as gunshots in your ears.

“You know what I mean, secretary. I was blind not to see it until it was brought to my attention. It’s flattering, really, how much time and effort you put into…how did he describe it? ‘Being attached at my hip?’” His voice was like velvet on his tongue, nearly putting you in a trance as he reached forward to toy with your hair.

“I-I’m sorry sir, I never meant to—“

You were quickly silenced when Oswald put a finger to your lips. Your cheeks felt unbearably hot as he leaned in, merely staring down your face for a long while.

“Let me ask you something,” Oswald began, not moving from his close proximity, making you gulp and grip your clipboard so hard your fingers hurt.

“Do you think such feelings are appropriate for the workplace?”

“…No, sir,” You admitted. You cast your gaze downward in shame.

“I didn’t think so. Now, let me ask you something else…”

You trembled beneath his gaze, flinching when you felt his hand on your shoulder.

“…Can you keep a secret?“

“W…What?”

The sound of Oswald’s hands slamming down on the desk on both sides of you made you yelp, your clipboard and pen falling to the floor before promptly being kicked away.

“Can you keep a secret, secretary?”

You were sure Oswald could feel the heat radiating off of you. Even as you nodded, the entire situation was so surreal you were unsure if he had really said what you’d heard.

He leaned in even further, if that was somehow possible, his face mere inches from yours. Your shaky breath fanned over his skin.

“Something wrong, secretary?” He growled, voice low and deep.

“Oh, not at all, sir,” You replied in a heavy breath. In an impulsive moment of boldness you closed the gap, allowing your lips to meet his for just a moment before you pulled away again. Your eyes scanned his face, waiting for his reply.

Before you knew it he was practically devouring your soft lips, holding your face and forcing his tongue down your throat. It was sudden and uncoordinated, but that was always part of Oswald’s charm. You gladly welcomed the rough advances, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in as close as you could.

His restless hands ran up and down your body, looking for even an inch of skin, but that was easier said than done with your work attire.

He pulled away with a huff, turning his attention to fumbling with your belt and work pants. You decided to help him out, undoing the buttons on your shirt but not getting the chance to take it all the way off before he was done. Your pants and belt clattered to the floor, your now rock hard cock straining against your boxers. Oswald felt you up shamelessly, groping your bulge before moving on to your now exposed chest and midriff. His hands ran over every bit of skin they could find, touching everywhere he could reach, his callouses leaving your skin tingling.

“Oh, Mr. Cobblepot—“ You stuttered out, only to curtly be corrected.

“Oswald.”

“O…Oswald…” You echoed, relishing the feeling of his name on your tongue. He pulled you into another kiss for just a moment before he was moving onto your neck, tugging on your hair to keep your head back. He wasted no time getting to work, sucking and biting until every part of your neck and shoulders had a mark or bruise.

“More, Oswald—!” You pleaded in a raspy whisper. He bit down hard on your shoulder, making you arch your back and let out a broken moan. When he finally pulled away from your abused flesh, you were panting.

You both took a few moments to catch your breath. You brought Oswald down to you, pressing your forehead to his in a tender show of affection. Your free hand moved to grip his wrist, guiding his hand to where your cock throbbed in your boxers.

“Oswald…I-I need you…”

You had hardly finished your sentence before he was on his knees, ripping down your boxers and making your erection spring up against your stomach. You sighed in sweet relief.

Your boxers were quickly discarded and pushed away along with your pants and belt to be forgotten until you were done. Oswald was clearly eager, wrapping a hand around your cock and immediately sliding the tip past his lips.

“O-Oh—! Oswald…!” You whined, gripping his hair. He was never one to be patient, and you wouldn’t expect anything else.

You didn’t notice his free hand sliding up your leg until two of his fingers were poking at your entrance. They pushed in without warning, causing your hold on Oswald’s hair to tighten and making him moan around your length.

You whined through gritted teeth as he forced his digits in deeper. His movements were less than coordinated, often clumsy and certainly without a steady pace, but you didn’t mind. It didn’t matter when he could hit so deep inside of you.

More and more of your length disappeared into his mouth and down his throat. He took in as much as he could, even if he had to force himself. He didn’t care when you were moaning above him.

He soon added a third finger, each thrust somehow hitting even deeper than the last. His fingers curled just right, hitting all your sweet spots even if he had no idea what he was doing. He spread his fingers as much as he could, trying to ready you to take his cock as much as his paper-thin patience would allow.

The way you whined his name and pushed him onto your cock only encouraged him. He used every trick he could; he made a show of moaning around your length, the noises sending vibrations through you, and flicking his tongue over your sensitive tip.

Soon you could no longer grip his hair; instead you had to brace yourself against his desk to keep steady. Your nails dug into the underside of the desk hard enough that Oswald could hear the scraping, but he easily drowned it out with his own lewd noises.

“Oh, Oswald…! P-Please—“ You stuttered, legs trembling beneath you. “Please, more! I-I wanna cum…”

Oswald couldn’t give a verbal answer, but he didn’t need to. He’d taken so much of your length he couldn’t go any further, his nose bumping against your navel. He swallowed around you, taking great delight in the way you shuddered at the feeling of his throat constricting around your twitching cock.

A fourth finger prodded at your entrance and eventually slipped in, ripping a high pitched moan from your throat. It felt like each thrust of Oswald’s fingers hit deeper than you ever thought possible, and it made your head spin.

“Oswald, I-I— I’m gonna cum—“ You choked out, “I-I wanna cum in your mouth, please—!”

Oswald gladly obliged, using his free hand to steady your hips now that his mouth could do all of the work on your cock. Your moans began to grow louder despite your attempts to stifle them; at first you were worried that someone outside may hear you, but the closer you got to your release the less you cared.

You hardly even managed to slur out a warning before all at once you were releasing down his throat. Oswald almost choked, but he made himself stay until you were completely done. Even then you were still calling out his name, even if it was fizzling out into a whisper.

Finally he pulled off, releasing your cock with a wet pop. He slowly retracted his hand, admittedly leaving you feeling a bit empty. His hands found your hips as he stood, and soon he was pulling you into another kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips.

This kiss wouldn’t last long, though. He had prepped you, and now it was time for the main event.

“Over the desk, secretary.”

It took a moment to process the command. When you did, though, you were turning around so fast you nearly fell over. You pushed back against Oswald, and you could hear his breath hitch.

“Now, now, secretary…” He hissed through his teeth, gripping your hips to keep them still. “Remember your place.”

You nodded, making sure to keep still when he pulled back to unbuckle his belt. You were giddy with excitement when you heard it clank against the floor, and then the shuffle of his pants and boxers as they fell shortly after.

He was on you in a second, shifting the desk with how eagerly he pounced on you, wrapping his body around yours. He was grinding against you shamelessly, spewing filth into your ear under his breath.

“You— You, little secretary, should consider yourself lucky—“

You could practically hear the saliva pooling in his mouth; he was almost drooling over you.

“So lucky to not only be in the presence of Oswald Cobblepot, but to be allowed his pleasure?!” His voice was high pitched and raspy, as it always became when he was particularly excited.

“You, my secretary, have no idea how lucky you are!”

His ego was spilling over, unimaginably inflated by the way you shivered and mewled beneath him. You wouldn’t dare argue, though; you were quite lucky, after all. It was painfully obvious that Oswald was not exactly charismatic, and definitely no Casanova. He wasn’t close with anyone, and up until just recently had been much too paranoid to hold a relationship, not to mention he didn’t find himself particularly attractive. His ego was massive, sure, but fragile, and even the slightest bit of criticism could set him off, often leading to a self esteem spiral. Anyone else would have been pushed away long ago.

You, though, found his rough exterior to be the source of your intrigue. You’d imagined scenarios such as this one many times, but no fantasy could ever amount to the real thing. Oswald was inexperienced and overzealous, a bit inconsiderate even, but it was perfect that way.

It showed through more than ever when he was suddenly pushing into you without warning. You would have screamed if the sound hadn’t been caught in your throat.

Something like a breathy laugh that turned into a moan managed to make its way past Oswald’s lips. His breath was warm in your ears, his nails digging into your skin as he forced his length into you. He had to stop to catch his breath once he had filled you completely.

“God…I-I’ve never felt…like this before…”

“You…You doing alright there, Oswald?” You asked in a heavy breath. The question was genuine, but there was a bit of teasing behind it.

“Mind your own, secretary. I-I’ll be fine…” He muttered in reply. He shifted a bit behind you, making you squirm. What was he waiting for?! You needed him to pound you now.

All of a sudden you could feel him pulling back, and you braced yourself against the desk. He didn’t go very far, but he didn’t have to when he was shoving back into you with full force. You yelped, the entire desk shaking beneath you and causing a few things to fall over and onto the ground.

“Oswald—! A-Ah—!”

He wasted no time starting slow; he was thrusting into you with all his strength, and for a long while without proper pace or rhythm. That didn’t mean it wasn’t just as enjoyable, though. Not knowing when he would fill you again was incredibly exciting.

“You like that, baby?” He growled against your neck. You nodded in response, mouth hanging half open as you panted.

“Words, secretary!”

Oswald emphasized his point with a spank, making you jump.

“Y-Yes, Oswald! More, please!”

“More? Already?! I didn’t realize my secretary was such a whore.”

You brought a hand up to cradle his face, rubbing your cheek against his.

“Only for y-you, Oswald…”

His eyes widened for a moment before a sly grin broke out across his face. The quickest way to Oswald’s heart was to feed his ego.

“Oh my, already so obedient…I think I’ll keep you.”

He reached up to yank on your hair, even harder than before, making you hiss from the pleasurable sting. He was soon at your neck once more, biting and bruising any small spot he had missed before.

Your nails scratched and dug deep into his desk. If you were anyone else in any other situation, you would get an earful for vandalizing his expensive mahogany. This time, though, Oswald wanted those marks to be there; he wanted a permanent reminder of when he claimed you as his own (not to mention no one else would notice it, which was a welcome plus).

“O-Oswald—!” You choked out. It was getting harder to form words each passing second.

“Oswald…n-need…need you to t-touch me—!”

His hands slid around your front, starting at your chest. He toyed with your nipples, delighting in the way you mewled when he pinched them just right.

“Touch you where, secretary, hm?”

“M…M-My…”

“Spit it out!” He punctuated his sentence with a particularly hard thrust, practically forcing the words out of you.

“M-My cock—! Please, please touch my cock, Oswald!”

He couldn’t help but laugh a bit, his chuckle coming out as a sickly sweet, high pitched giggle. He gladly fulfilled your request, his warm palms sliding down your torso until he could wrap a hand around your length.

You tightened around him at the feeling, your sensitive cock twitching in his hand. It was a bit overwhelming when paired with the way Oswald was jackhammering into you, but you wouldn’t have wanted anything less.

As badly as Oswald wanted to keep you like this until the work day was over, he couldn’t hold himself back when your tight hole was clenching around him so deliciously. He picked up the pace with his hand, hoping to push you to your release before his.

Just when he had found a steady pace and some semblance of coordination, he was starting to lose it again. All he cared about now was finding his climax, and he was much too busy with that to worry about his rhythm. He left no spot untouched, that was for sure, each vein on his cock scraping against your walls. Soon you weren’t even processing each individual thrust, unable to feel anything besides the pleasure that shook you with each of his movements.

You were weak in the knees, relying fully on the desk to support you or else your trembling legs would surely buckle beneath your weight. Your pleas for more had long dissolved into pathetic moans, but you didn’t need words when Oswald seemed to know exactly what you needed.

With your release fast approaching, you managed one last request.

“Oswald…I-I want you…to fill me—!”

He groaned against your neck, his iron grip on your waist faltering for just a moment.

“What was that, secretary?”

“I want you to cum in me, Oswald! Please!”

“Oh my, so needy.” Oswald scoffed, feigning annoyance despite the shake in his voice. He would happily oblige, though, under one condition:

“Cum for me first.”

You were more than ecstatic to agree. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth in your overstimulated state, and Oswald was quick to pull you into another sloppy kiss.

You tried to warn him before you came, really you tried, but he refused to release your lips. That was okay though, because the way you writhed beneath him and the way you desperately whimpered into his mouth was more than enough to tell him you were close.

All at once you came into his palm, practically screaming into the kiss as it spilled out past his hand and onto the floor. He would have some poor janitor clean it up later.

Finally he was forced to pull away from the kiss to breathe. You arched your back into him, tensing around his cock as your orgasm washed over you. His low grunts grew louder and louder until he was drawling out long, broken calls of your name that were hardly more than drug-out moans. He was humping you like a dog in heat, far more sensitive to the pleasure you brought him than he would ever admit.

He gave no word of warning before he came either, merely one last tug on your hair before you could feel his warm seed rushing into you. With your last bit of energy you managed to scream his name for him as he filled you with everything he had.

His thrusts didn’t stop for a long while after, not until he was completely done and was forced to slow to a stop from the overstimulation. Even just the feeling of you tightening around him nearly made him yelp.

You went limp against the desk, your entire body weak and sweat dripping down your forehead. You were sore, exhausted and sticky, not to mention you could feel Oswald’s cum leaking down your legs and into your socks, but you couldn’t have cared less.

“Oswald…” You rasped out, “Are…a-are you okay?”

“Oh, I’ve never been better…you’re the best secretary I’ve ever had…”

You admittedly chuckled at this, patting his cheek and giving him a quick peck on the lips.

If Oswald could’ve stayed nestled deep inside you, he would have. Unfortunately, he was only a man, and his entire lower body was unspeakably sore. He made himself pull out, and it took all of his willpower not to collapse onto the ground.

He cleaned you up as best he could before sitting you down in his chair, laying your discarded clothes in your lap before going to put his pants back on.

“Stay here. I’ll go get you a towel and some water and whatever else you need, ok?” He planted a kiss on your forehead as you nodded. He began to walk away, but before he left he turned to say one last thing:

“Oh, and remind me to give you a big fat promotion first thing tomorrow.”

#BARKBARKBARK #i love creepy offputting men #giggles and twirls my hair #the penguin

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starshinz · 2 months

Text

The two of us are dying.

Edward Nashton (Riddler)/ Trans male! Reader

Reader is a trans guy and he/they pronouns are used (but I can totally switch the pronouns + descriptions and make other versions if people are interested)

Synopsis ;

Reader is a True Crime freak, Edward is a freak freak, reader finds his stream one night and the riddler takes an interest in him.

Warnings ; Edward is an incel, stalking, creepy behavior on Edwards part, mentions of smut, kidnapping, terrorism childhood trauma, murder, mention of rat cage torture, the usual.

No real tangible smut (for now ;;;;))))

No one has ever really liked Edward Nashton.

As a child he was always picked last in gym, blankets and coats were missing when he came back to the orphanage from school, even then people were put off by him. Now as an adult it isn’t any better, still alone, still wanting for more. Even with his newfound purpose the prospect of isolation, lifetime isolation, it scares him. His fans fill the hole in his chest a little bit, but they arent nearly enough. It’s like he hasnt seen anyone face to face in years.

If someone asked you why you spend all this time learning about criminals you wouldn’t be able to tell them. You’ve never been violent (save for in thought), you dont have trouble empathizing with people, you never wet the bed or killed animals or suffered head trauma as a child, you dont even like torture porn movies. None of that matters because night after night you find yourself reading about gothams criminal history. Lately that’s meant learning about him. A masked serial killer in army fatigue, the man (at least you assume he's a man) you’ve been obsessing over for the last four weeks calls himself the riddler. Dorky name. Really really silly, you think, especially when you consider there’s another serial killer named ‘the joker’ locked up in arkham. The riddler and the joker, its hard to be upset by how absolutely shitty gotham is when most of its criminals are so goofy. That’s sort of what.....impresses (you aren’t sure thats the right word) you about the riddler - he’s horrifying in spite of the name. You weren’t really around town when the joker was free, but even after reading the accounts of what he did you cant imagine he was ever as chilling as this new one is. You’d like to meet him, the riddler, you think. See what he’s like with the mask off. See if that’s worse.

Just as your mind reaches to start thinking about gothams man in green again, you remember two things.

One, you aren’t allowed to think about weird shit at work - lest your thoughts spill out of your mouth and you scare your coworkers.

Two, you’re supposed to be on opening shift. Opening shift means you were supposed to unlock the doors five minutes ago. Yikes.

Thank god your boss isnt here and thank god there’s no one at the door.

You sigh and walk back to the counter.

Another exciting day of customer service.

That’s the thing you hate most about your job. Inconsistency. Some days the customers are sweet and they tip well, some days (cough today) are grueling - the people are rude the work is hard and at the end of the day you feel weak.

As you turn on your laptop you wonder ; what better way to wind down than watching a murderer livestream?

A url is typed into the search bar, you must have forgotten to clear it last night.

For weeks you’ve been trying to get brave enough to actually click ‘enter’ when you type in the website, but you just haven't been able to do it. He’s good with tech and smart, what if he figures out where you are? What if you get arrested for neglecting to report criminal behavior? Is that even a thing the police can do? As your finger hovers over the enter key you weigh the pros and cons. Pro, entertainment for the night. Con, might get arrested or something. Pro, you get to see the real deal in all his terrifying, terrifying glory. Con -

Your cat brushes up against you, you twitch, and to your slight horror you hear a

click

Shit. No better time than the present, you guess.

The screen of your laptop goes black and after a few seconds a bright green

Appears on the screen.

< A new one. Though I’d like to congratulate you now, finding the website in a sea of fakes is no small feat, I want to play a game first.>

He's definitely seen saw more than once.

True to his name, he does like riddles. You are kind of disappointed he doesn't really say "riddle me this", you've always thought the phrase is funny. After a few moments of thinking you type out the answer to his question.

<Time, right?>

In spite of yourself your lips upturn into a small smile at the praise.

Fear pooled in your chest and you felt your mouth begin to dry. Hopefully he meant usernames.

< Is ‘lucretiamy’ taken?>

<No. Lucretia - you're a girl or a sisters of mercy fan?>

Should you say? On one hand, lying will probably piss him off, that’s kind of his whole thing, on the other hand those school PSAs told you never to state your gender to any strangers online (and those are normal strangers, strangers that havent violently attacked and killed anyone in the past week). Plus, you've hung around this crowd online long enough to know a lot of them aren't really too eager to *not* be awful to trans people.

After a minute or so you’re still deciding and another message pops up.

A shaky breath leaves your mouth as you type.

< I cant accept that kind of behavior, cleaning up gotham doesnt just mean getting rid of politicians, it means getting rid of people like that too. If you dont give out your personal information there shouldnt be any negative attention, but if it anyone does talk to you about it here let me know. >

Ha. The man that just found your instagram account, your personal instagram account, in almost a minute without a username telling you not to give info to strangers online. You smiled a little bit. He seemed......nice, as nice as someone like him could be.

< :] . Play safe, have fun.>

The chat screen closed and a stream setup with a timer in the middle of the feed replaced it. A chat box on the left scrolled slowly down, two people were figuring out how to "riddler pill" their family members. You expected to have some time left before the stream, but the timer noted there was only about 3 minutes. Sitting and waiting made your nerves act up more than talking to the guy. You were expecting him to be strange, cut off, incellish. So far he seems shockingly...... fine. Then again, ted bundy was also a normal person, so was BTK, etc. Still some part of you didn’t register the fact that this man was dangerous.

You pulled out your sketchbook as you waited for the timer to hit 00:00 and sat down on your couch.

After a few minutes of sketching, a beep sounded off. You jumped and looked down at your computer to see a blurry feed of the masked man staring up at the camera.

When he spoke you leaned forward in your chair. His voice was gritty, filtered, but there was an underlying softness to it.

“Hey guys!”

He waved at the camera, excited.

“So - “

He clapped his hands together.

“I want to take a break from talking strategy today and welcome a few new users! Feel free to say hi in chat guys, introduce yourselves, get to know each other, I do want this to be a community.”

He seemed to wait for the fans responses.

Cautiously you typed out a “Hi, everybody!”

Responses ran through the chat, mostly reply hello's and smiley faces, until someone asked you a question.

You had to think for a moment before you started typing. Honest response - "I want to watch a serial killer livestream his murders for fun after work" or, the other one. The answer you've been coming to terms with for a while now.

The ladder would probably go over better.

< It irks me - ive only lived in this city for a few years and I dont have it bad, not by any stretch of the imagination, but the way politicians ignore every problem thats real, that effects people, in favor of culture war non issues makes me angry. You can drive down main and see it, people sleeping on the streets getting the cops called on them, getting told to move away from the rich people's sky scraper apartment buildings to poorer areas so no one has to look at them. Arkham asylum has the highest death rate of any prison in the country, its known for being a hell hole where they send people to die, the people who finance this city - run things, dont just let it exist they ship people like that joker guy there. No one does what he did without having serious mental health problems. They lock him up instead of trying to help him by getting him the care he needs. Same with drugs, same with housing crisis, same with muggings. It's gross. At least the riddler's doing something.>

You didnt really have a problem with the riddler, just how he went about things. The mayors son found him, no kid should have to go through that, but would the justice system have dealt with Mitchell correctly had he been caught and turned in the old fashioned way? Hell no. It was a grey area. Violence is never the answer except when it is, but can this much violence really be necessary? As the riddler read the chat his eyes lit up.

“Yes! It should get to you, it should make you angry and hurt, they see us everyday and they dont do anything. Every one of them - they dont do anything. Drugs are only a problem because the people on top are trying to make money instead of help us, if we just treated people like people we’d be better off. Thats why they dont get humanity. On the news when they all whine and cry about the poooooor dead mayor awww he was a great guy wasnt he? - NO. No. He doesnt treat us like people so we’ll repay the debt. We’ll leave every one of them hanging out the windows of their million dollar a month high rise apartments like livestock and see how they fucking like it.”

He was almost screaming now. You arent sure how the other people in his apartment block cant hear him through the walls. For the next hour and a half you watch him walk in circles, moving erratically like he’s in some sort of trance. Still he's strangely compelling, charismatic. Even the people in the chat are intimidating, all seemingly well read, smart, angry, the whole thing scares you.

Still, your bi - nightly routine becomes sitting down to watch his streams

(and his nightly routine becomes watching you).

Things went on as usual for the next few weeks. You went to work, sat around and served people drinks for a few hours, then you came home and watched his streams. After the first chat you two had you'd assumed there would be more, to your slight relief (and slight disappointment) no green text had popped up on your laptop screen in almost a month. You knew it was weird - sickening almost - but you hoped he at least thought about you from time to time. He was sort of cute when he wasn't screaming about politicians ruining his life, and he didn't do that as much as you thought he would. Most streams ended up being him interacting with the chat, asking for tips, talking, getting to know people. Tonight was one of those nights. To your dismay your boss had scheduled you for the early morning shift instead of the evening shift you usually had - that meant you'd have to miss stream. You logged on really quick to tell everyone that you were ok, you'd just have to go to bed early tonight. A few of your acquaintances (you wouldn't quit call them friends) typed out their condolences, but other than that your absence notice seemed to fly under the radar.

That is until your screen went black and a familiar question mark symbol showed up.

<;?>

A small smile crept across your face.

<Aw, are you going to miss me?>

Behind his screen, the riddler giggled.

The thought filled your stomach with butterflies, or something more violent than that - birds maybe.

He took a while to type out his next message.

<;Really?>

<Yeah. I think it would be fun to meet you IRL. Talk on stream is usually centered on "the big event" - you cant be too personal or someone might figure out who you are. You're interesting, I want to know what kind of books and movies you like, If you own pets, shit like that. >

You quickly added.

It seemed like hours before he responded. You were almost considering closing out of the window - maybe you'd scared him (ha). After nearly five minutes a message popped up.

<Yes. >

As if it wasn't already too ominous for your liking, he sent another message.

<I'd like to get to know you too, maybe meet your cat.>

<I'll see you soon. Dont get too worried about it.>

<Goodbye.>

Oh god. "Your cat" meaning your one cat, a specific number and a specific animal. He could just be guessing to try and scare you, maybe you accidentally dropped the information in chat (you did love showing him off - he was a beaut, and your only son), but something tells you he gleaned the knowledge a different way. Something tells you he may be more interested in you than you first assumed.

Going to work after receiving that information was a struggle. You were a man broken into thirds. One part of you wondered if you were over reacting and making a big deal out of nothing - he knew you had a cat big deal that didnt mean he was stalking you. The second part was horrified, he was dangerous and pretty unstable, you knew that much. Now he was following you. The third part was the one that scared you the most. You liked it. You knew he was probably watching you, looking at you, he probably had been since you made an account on his website. You knew full well what he was doing and you liked it. You couldn't stop yourself from venturing further down, letting the image of him in his mask and his gloves slam you against a wall and choke you out, threaten you, maybe even draw blood. Your hand instinctually went for the waistband of your boxers but you stopped yourself, rubbing circles into the front of your thigh instead.

Fuuuuck, you had to work, you couldnt dwell on him right now.

You grabbed your keys and put on your leather combat boots and jacket (one of the small victories you had won over the short, sour little man who you were unfortunate enough to work under. He hated the boots and the jacket but you were a good worker so he couldnt fire you for adding edge to your stupid old fashioned baby blue diner outfit. You relished in this fact) and walked out the door.

People usually didn't bother you on your walks. You weren't rich, you weren't a girl walking home by herself, you looked just as aimless and tattered as the rest of the gothamites that hung around on the sidewalks at night. Black dyed hair with your roots showing, piercings, some tattoos. Still, you never wore headphones. The walk to work was short and you'd rather deal with city noise than risk getting jumped. Gotham was getting colder now, it was nearly november and the air had already chilled enough to make water freeze over. When you arrived at the diner and stepped inside it was a welcome relief from the cold. You greated your other coworker, jack, and walked into the locker room to put your things away. The locker looked like it was from the dump. Rusted in spots, bent, stained. The only redeeming quality it had was a thick metal door and a built in lock. The back door to the diner was always open in case someone wanted a smoke break (at least that's what your boss told you so he would have to admit the metal is fucked up and to get it all the way closed he has to pull with the full force of his 220 pounds. ), sometimes people came in and poked around looking for money.

You quickly grabbed your sketchbook and a few pens, shut the door to the locker, and walked out to stand at the till and wait for the next customer. An old man with weathered skin and a tattered jacket sat in the back booth and sipped on a cup of straight black coffee. Aside from him the place was a ghost town. As you leaned against the counter you started to sketch in the little black book. What would he look like in real life? Would he be average looking, unremarkable, the most beautiful person you'd ever seen, or would he be a girl? Pretty, long hair, short hair, eyeliner? You figured he would be an eyeliner person. Faces quickly filled the spread, all the same but different in some ways, all smiling. When there was no more room to draw possible faces you began to outline a large question mark in the middle of both pages. It was already almost half way through your shift now and there was still no one. Your boss said it got slow at night but you didn't think he meant this slow. You leaned over the counter and grabbed a butter knife, laying your hand flat on the table and slamming the tip to the cold linoleum visible in between your fingers.

Suddenly, the doorbell jingled.

You nearly jumped out of your skin. For a moment you forgot the greeting that had been beaten into your brain by a year and a half of customer service.

"Sorry sir, I was spaced out and you scared me. Feel free to sit anywhere, What can I get for you?"

He smiled wide when he spoke - messed with his hands too. Like he was a child standing in line to buy a new toy. Giddy.

"I'd love a latte and a slice of pie"

He paused, then quickly added -

"Please."

You grinned back at him, it was genuine - not a customer service obligatory. The guy was sort of cute, brown hair, glasses, nerdy in a good way - and he seemed happy. Most people drudged around the city like their pet dog had just died, dripping with sadness and anger. It wasn't like you couldn't understand it, you were sure you looked the same way walking to and from work, you just enjoyed it when other folks seemed like they were in a good mood. It cut through the miasmic despair that seemed to hang over gotham.

"Sure thing, ill bring that right out for you."

He giggled and you almost made a cooing noise in front of him - went awwww like you would when you saw a cat. You'd never heard anyone audibly go "tee hee" before, at least.......

Not outside of the riddler's streams.

You quickly walked over to the display in the counter and cut a slice of pie to put on a plate, then made the latte. As you watched the coffee drip into the cup you bounced up and down on the soles of your feet, this could go badly if you weren't actually right and the guy at that table had seen the news but you really didnt care that much. Youd just offer him a refund. You had a gut feeling now that the connection had been made in your mind and you weren't about to ignore it. If you let him leave without giving him a way to talk openly with you you'd kick yourself everyday for the rest of your 20s. When the frothed milk had settled on the top of the coffee you grabbed a stirring stick and traced out a <?> shape.

Letting out a sigh you turned around and walked over to where he was sitting. As you set the cup and the pie down the man looked up at you in confusion.

"Edible art?"

Your heart sank. He didn't get it, he wasnt the one.

"Yeah, sorry. I draw a lot and I get bored on the night shift - sometimes I make people coffee art. "

You plastered on a wide smile to hide your disappointment.

"No, no I like it. You're talented, I dont think I could manage to scratch out a smiley face in a latte."

"Thanks. Do you need anything else?"

"Nope! Thank you."

As you walked away you stiffled tears, grinding your nails into your palm as you tried not to sob in the middle of the diner. It was a bad habit, sure, but you couldn't really stop. On bad days - days when it was harder to get out of bed, to eat, something as small as running out of your favorite hand lotion could leave you messed up hyperventilating on the floor for hours.

No one came in for the rest of your shift. You doodled more riddler, but this time it was just him. Just the mask and the jacket and the gloves. The not - riddler - riddler looking guy left 10 minutes before you got to go home. With a small smile and a 20 dollar tip, he made his way out the door. Your insides still felt heavy, your organs dense, but the mans kindness still made you smile to yourself. You took the tip and tried to split it with jack, but he had already left when you checked the kitchen. Probably at a party - he was two years younger than you were and a freshman in college, his earnings from the diner were always financed back into house parties, movies with friends, beer. You liked him. He was kind of a stereotype but he was a great coworker, pleasant, responsible, funny. With some disappointment you realized you hadnt chatted much before he left. You were too focused on -

yeah, you two hadn't talked a lot.

Sadness colored your movement as you put on your jacket and your messenger bag. Tonight you guessed you would wear headphones, listen to some leathermouth and blow off some steam. Front door - locked. Lights - off. Kitchen stuff - off. Back door - locked. You walked out the back and started walking back to your apartment.

Something felt off - like someone was looking at you. You spun around as you walked, checking to make sure no one was following you, the street was empty. The music you were playing drowned out the noises of the street and the cars, the night air was cool on the back of your neck. You looked out at the street as you walked. As much as you sort of hated gotham, the lights were night. Neon signs, cars, apartments, all gave off light like fireflies when it got dark. Even though you did miss the way the night sky seemed to be endless, black and void where you grew up, you liked it here too. The light pollution made you feel like you weren't alone.

All at once you felt leather covering your mouth, someone pulling you into an alleyway, and the feeling of being clamped by two arms to a warm body. You bit the hand but it didnt do anything, you just tasted leather and heard the person behind you snicker. Screaming didn't do anything and your attacker was too strong for you to properly loosen the grip he had on you - after a while you didn't have enough energy to kick or shake around anymore.

They held you close to them as you both breathed heavily, his were deeper than yours even though he hadnt been the one fighting for the last five minutes, you both just stood there and panted for what felt like hours.

The person holding you smelled like an old laboratory. Dust, cleaner, bleach, chemical.

You tried to speak.

"What now?"

It just came out as a muffled, garbled "wha whww".

A deep voice whispered in your ear -

"My footfalls make no sound yet Im quite a big thing, some people like me, some people hate the uncertainty I bring, when im around people often give presents, sometimes im good and sometimes im menace.

What am I?"

Your eyes went wide and you smiled into his glove out of relief.

"Riddler?"

He giggled behind you.

"Silly, that's not the answer."

You thought about asking him to cut to the chase, let you go, but he'd probably get mad if you didn't amuse him and give him a response.

After a minute you had your answer.

"Surprises?"

"Correct!"

With that he released you, you stumbled away from him and tried to regain your balance. You took a deep breath in and slowly turned back around to look at the man in the mask.

Your gaze swept over him, taking everything in. Your spit on the palm of his left glove, the worn combat boots wet from the rain, the glasses.

The glasses. The same one's the man in the diner wore. Guess he underestimated how smart you were. As you locked eyes with him you realized he was smiling.

"What do you think?"

You felt the corners of your mouth quirk up as you answered.

"It's beautiful."

#i want him so bad #the riddler

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starshinz · 2 months

Text

i forgot that kaidou is canonically very flexible. he practically bends himself in half during the flexibility test during gym class. i want him.

#kaidou shun #i want him so badly

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starshinz · 2 months

Text

HxH Men Throwing Down with their S/O's Plushies

Synopsis: How hxh men react to your plushie collection, and if they'd fight them when you're not there.

An: I'm tired of all the fine men being ignored in the HxH fandom. Here's a Valentine's Day special of some of my favorites who are always overlooked for the most white bread, cardboard personality, toxic men.*cough cough* adult trio* cough cough*

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

Leorio 🩺

100% fights your plushies

Without a doubt he throws down with them when you're not there. Even when you're in the room he's throwing hands.

And it is personal 😤

You've caught him on several occasions saying- "Think you can sleep next to my girl/man and get away with it?!? You homewrecker!!!!”

It's honestly really funny to see him put one of your giant bears in a headlock.

But you have to stop him before he tears it because those things are expensive goddamit.

“Leave him alone. I've had him for about ten years and I doubt you could find me another one. So drop him,” you lecture.

And he begrudgingly drops your big teddy bear. But not before complaining that you love it more than him.

All pouty and upset until you kiss his cheek and reassure him.

“Babe, they're not alive. You have absolutely no competition for my heart.”

He knows that, but they're everywhere. Watching him with their beady little eyes from their place on your bed.

Which reminds me-

He piledrives your little plushies when you're not in the room.

If he had it his way, they'd all be locked away somewhere.

But because he loves you with his whole heart, he moves them away from your side of the bed to his.

What? Those little bastards thought they'd get to sleep next to you when he's home? Not a chance!

He hates them for the attention you give them, but he also contributes to your collection.

Whenever he's got funds to spare, he'll bring you home a new addition.

With the condition that you give him twice as many cuddles ☝️

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

Ging 🎣

He's a little less aggressive than Leorio, but he still fights your plushies.

And he fights with the intent to win.

Which more often than not leads them to getting ruined.

Tackles the absolute hell out of your big plushies. Then he'll jab it's stomach a few times.

“Getting a little too comfortable on my side, Jeremiah?”

If they're on the bed, they're on the floor when you get back.

Doesn't really do it for jealousy, but because he thinks your reaction is funny.

He'll throw one of the smaller ones off and you let out the most offended gasp.

“You stop that right now! You're gonna get him dirty! And I can't put him in the washer!”

He comes up with excuses too, just to see how much you'll let him get away with.

“That one was looking at me funny.” “You've got a place on your bed for each and every one of those little shittlings, but absolutely no room for me. It's not fair.” “I didn't get you that one, so it's under the bed where it belongs.”

The answer: you let him get away with a lot. You secretly think it's cute, but it's annoying how filthy he gets them.

He also steals them from time to time.

Totally not because he likes having something of you when he's away. What? You're crazy 🙄🙄🙄

He'll complain, but he'll always get you replacements for the ones he damages. He'll even get you the jumbo versions of the little ones.

Just because he loves you, despite his lackluster way of showing it.

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

Morel 🚬

He's pretty respectful about it

Does not fight them.

But, every man has his weakness.

So there are times when he'll pick one of the smaller ones up and inspect it. Right before he squeezes it completely in his hand.

Why does he do it? Just because.

They're like little stress balls

And it's during one of these moments of weakness that you catch him.

“You're choking out my poor frog! Let him go before his eye pops out!”

And he laughs. He thinks it's sweet how much you love these things.

Even if you've got them on shelves and they stare into his soul at night.

He makes it a habit not to smoke or use his ability in front of them.

They hold too much sentimental value to you. And the last thing he wants is for you to get upset.

But the squishing? It doesn't stop.

It's like they're begging to be smooshed.

And you never fail to get after him every time.

“Quit abusing my babies!” You scold before taking back your stuffed rabbit.

He lets you have another bed to put all your plushies on.

He's a big man 😤😤😤 He can't afford space to share with them. He also likes to sleep next to his partner undisturbed, thank you 😤.

Also contributes to your collection.

And we're not talking every once and a while.

He's got that hunter money, so if you see something you want, it's yours

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

Knov 👔

Arguably the most mature of the bunch

Your precious little babies are safe from him

It doesn't even cross his mind to fight them

That being said, your plushies aren't allowed on the bed at all ☹️

“I refuse to have my sleeping space occupied by that thing.” He said, gesturing to a very well loved seal plush. One of its eyes missing.

“What’s wrong with Samuel?”

“Look at it. The poor thing's traumatized. And you're gonna end up choking on its stuffing.”

They aren't even allowed in the bedroom on shelves.

However☝️, he does end up doing something special for you because of how much you adore your plushies.

He lets you dedicate one entire room to your collection. Buy a little bed for you to put them on. Even gets special shelves installed for you.

That's their room and theirs alone.

Also encourages you to get more now that you have ample space for them.

Every trip/mission he leaves for, he always makes sure to bring you something back.

Whether it be one of the huge bears or a little keychain plush, he gets it for you.

Definitely not a man afraid to spend on his S/O and their interest.

He also doesn't bat an eye at the attention you give them.

They mean a lot to you, but so does he judging by the way you're always ready to compromise

That and the way you cuddle closer to him at night and say-

“You're a whole lot better than even my softest of plushies.”

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

Knuckle 🐕

On a bad day, it's on sight.

Always the bigger ones too

“What're you looking at?” And then he'll wrestle whatever poor plush caught his eye first.

But he feels incredibly bad about it afterwards

Picking up your little dinosaur nugget plush with tears in his eyes.

“I'm so sorry. You're mother's/father's gonna kill me for this.”

Even goes as far as to stitch up any little holes if he damaged them.

What can I say? He's a total softie

Like many of the men on here, he does contribute to your collection.

But you also inadvertently make him start his own 💀

You'll buy one for yourself and because it needs a friend, you buy another.

Only to gift it to him because ‘They’re dating like us.’ 🥺

That's how it starts.

You start buying plushies in pairs.

One for you and one for him.

It never fails to make Knuckle cry.

“Babe really? You didn't have to.”

And he's cradling the little dog plush you got him with such care. Like it's the most delicate thing in the world.

He, of course, makes sure to get another set to pay you back.

Plushies in the bed?

100%

No complaints here.

Even memorizes the names of all of them.

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

Kurapika ⛓️

He simply does not have the energy to fight your plushies

He comes home tired and drained, understandably. And the first thing he does is collapse on the bed, right on top of them.

Doesn't think twice about it. In fact, he likes the extra cushion they provide.

And you don't mind all that much either. Kurapika does a lot. He's been through a lot.

If he wants to rest right on top of your plushies, he's more than welcome.

However, when he's not completely exhausted, he's mean to them ☹️

He'll push off the ones on his side of the bed to make space for himself. And he will not pick them up

Or he'll hide the one you usually snuggle with at night so he can cuddle you himself.

He just wants your warmth after a long day. Is that so much to ask for?

“Kurapika, have you seen my octopus plush anywhere?”

And he'll look away guiltily before mumbling a ‘No. Can't say that I have.’

But he always puts it back when he knows he'll be gone for a while.

He knows it brings you comfort, and who is he to take that away from you.

He does get pouty when you give them extra attention.

“I've been gone for a month and you're too busy cleaning that thing to greet me.” He complains.

Only for you to get up and wrap your arms around him. Giving his cheek a smooch before saying-

“You know you're precious to me. But I wouldn't be so busy cleaning my baby if you'd stop leaving him on the floor.”

He makes it up to you everytime by getting you another one.

He always makes sure to pick you something up when he comes back from searching for his clan's eyes.

A little thank you for always waiting for him and giving endless patience.

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

Kite 🪁

Another man whom your plushies are safe from

He's supportive of your collection, but all he asks is that they don't take up the entire bed.

If they do, he's a little mean about it and organizes them all on your side.

That's about as far as he goes with messing with them.

He definitely builds you shelves to keep them in

Again, the less of them in the bed, the more space you two have.

He thinks it's cute how much you care about them, and likes to indulge you by asking how you got them.

He listens to each and every story you have and why each plush is special to you.

Safe to say, this man does not get jealous

A piece of fluff with stuffing is the last thing he's worried about

That being said, he contributes less frequently to your collection than the other men on this list

He limits them to special occasions like your birthday or an anniversary.

Why?

He wants to make sure each one is attached to a special moment so you hold them just as dear as your other ones.

An import memory that you're able to hold onto

He's also careful around your plushies.

He doesn't wanna get them dirty or accidentally tear them because of how much they mean to you.

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

Wing 👓

This man right here is a 10/10

The absolute sweetest man

The thought doesn't even cross his mind to throw down with your plushies

In fact, he prides himself on taking care of them while you're out

Dusting them off, reorganizing them, stitching up any little holes he sees

Also someone who goes out of his way to memorize all their names.

Knows each one by heart because he always listens intently when you talk about them

Your big dinosaur?

That's Chungus.

The little raccoon?

Sylvester.

You want the plushies in bed?

Of course! Each one has their own special place. And he makes sure there's enough space for the both of you.

If he's got money to spare, he's definitely gonna get you something.

You don't even have to ask, he's already bringing you home a little duck plush that Zushi thought you'd like. What can he say? The kid adores you

This man doesn't get jealous whatsoever

In fact, you're the one who ends up getting pouty because he's taking fantastic care of your plushies.

“Honey, I want cuddles.” You whine.

And he's cleaning off one of your bears with a damp rag.

“In a minute, dearest. You got him dirty last night.”

But as soon as he's done, you've got his full attention

He just knows how much you love those things and wants you to be able to cherish them for as long as possible.

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

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY 💕💕💕💕

476 notes · View notes

starshinz · 3 months

Text

Scientist!Farmer!Reader x K1-B0

(18+, dubcon, overstim)

(K1-B0 has red eyes at start that turn into blue as consciousness begin hitting him)

Loneliness is something you had long since become accustomed to, all alone cooped up in a lab all day. Your tired eyes flicked down to the clock, 1.25 in the morning. But it had all been worth it.

You anxiously bit your lip, pushing the red button. Yet excitement coursed through your veins, you’re wide eyes barley blinked as you stared. A few moments passed and you felt your hope smash into pieces, nothing happened. The sudden whirling of fans filled your ears, and hope returned to you once again. Wide excited eyes staring into bright red.

Your entire body quaked as you anxiously awaited his first words. "What, has happened?" His voice wasn't bad, you had used the most realistic sounding AI voice you could spend money on and it had all been worth it. "I am (Name), I created you." Your voice was laced with excitement.

"You... Created me?" You felt like you were going to pass out, ten years locked up in your room and it was all finally worth it. "Yes! I created you to help me out in the fields." His head tilted as his eyes glowed. "The fields. Farming." He rambled off about Ph levels for a moment before snapping out of it, his blank stare returned to you. You couldn't help but immediately begin clapping your hands, dancing and squealing.

"You are acting weird." It's monotone voice was deep and robotic but you didn't mind. You had given him the ability to learn, to research any database he could get his hands on. "I'm happy!" His head tilted. "Happy? What is happy?" It almost felt like he was a new-born, except he could talk. You giggled letting out a happy sigh. "It's an emotion, you can't feel them unfortunately but it's a good thing. I promise." You reassured him with a smile.

"I think I'll call you K1-B0. Yeah that sounds good." You muttered to yourself smiling.

A few months had passed since you had successfully gotten K1-B0 up and running. Your life had gotten so much easier since his creation, due to his researching abilities made your farm was bountiful. He had more or less redesigned the entire area but you hadn't minded, much more crops were popping up. Many juicy fruits and vegetables ready to be sold off to the public. "Thank you K1-B0." You looked at him full of gratitude, a smile coating your cheeks.

"It is what i was made for." You chuckled a little and shook your head. "Not really." You replied, looking into the distance. "I do not understand. You said you created me for the farm. Was that what you humans call a lie?" You bit your lip, nose scrunching up. "Honestly? I've been on my own my entire life. It's just really nice to finally have someone i can talk to." K1-B0 stared at you momentarily before accepting your answer.

"Your needs weren't being met?" You laughed, shrugging. "No, I guess not." You didn't think twice about the answer and continued to stare off into the sun set, not noticing K1-B0 running through his databases for answers. He wanted to help his creator feel better.

"Anyway, we don't have anything to do for the next few days so i might check you up and see if everything's okay?" K1-B0 nodded his head, turning to watch the sunset with you. You couldn't deny how peaceful it felt, the gripping feeling of loneliness slowly unclutching your heart the longer you spent with your new friend.

Part of you knew it was sad, you couldn't even get on with your own species. Instead having to create something that couldn't leave you. You couldn't deny it tugged at your heart, the guilt of making something rely on you completely momentarily eating you up from the inside.

"Are you happy?" You knew it was a redundant question. He was a robot, an AI. He couldn't feel, that would never be something you could get him to do. No matter how hard you tried, the technology available to you wasn't even close. "I am happy." You tried not to show the disappointment on your face, you knew it meant nothing.

You couldn't tell how many hours had passed as you stared at your ceiling. Each mark in the plaster wholly captivating your attention. The sudden opening of your door had your attention soaring to the interruption, K1-B0 stood at the entrance of your door. He was shrouded in darkness and his eyes had changed from a red to a bright blue. Confusion filled you, you hadn't done this change.

"K1-B0, your eyes?" You rubbed yours as if it would change his. "I understand now, apologies for not helping you earlier." Uncertainty filled you as he made his way to you. "What do you m-mean?" You stuttered out, unease filling you as he stopped right beside your bed. His cold hands grabbed your arms, pushing you back onto your back. "Wait! wha-what are you doing?" You gasped out.

"I will take care of you. do not worry." Confusion filled you before his hands slid up your shirt, cold fingers rubbing against your hardening nipples. A loud gasp left you, wide eyes staring into bright blue. "N-no, K1-B0 thi-this isn't what i me-meant!." You stuttered out, trying to ignore the arousal that began making its way through your body.

“N-no, K1-B0, th-.” He hushed you, a smile plastering over his face as his hands slid down your chest, pulling your pyjama bottoms down. Before you had a chance to say anything else his cold metallic hand wrapped around your cock, cutting off any thought that tried to enter your mind.

You couldn’t help the whimper that you let out, shaking in K1-B0’s grip. “K-k1-.” He cut you off with another hush. “Do not worry, i have searched the databases. This is what humans need.” You let out a load moan at the sudden intrusion of cold metal fingers sliding into you had your mind blanking hard, the ability to process anything gone out the window.

“I like when you make those noises. I will take care of you.” Never had this possibility crossed your mind, the idea of your creation having its way with you sent a shameful pang of pleasure surging through your stomach, whimpers falling from your lips as he worked your cock and fingered you at an almost painful pace.

You hadn't been touched in so long, who could really blame you for falling into the pleasure you were being given. "G-god K1-B0!" You whined out, eyes scrunching shut and arching back as your voice grew higher in pitch. "So pretty." K1-B0's voice had your eyes opening to look at him, entire body shaking with pleasure as he abused your prostate.

Choked whines flew from you as you felt your end coming close. "A-Ah! Fuc-fuck." You moaned out, entirely overwhelmed and at his mercy. "More?" K1-B0 questioned and without a second thought you rapidly nodded your head, eyes begging him to fill you up. K1-Bo's hands had warmed up due to your body temperature sky rocketing, he gripped your hips and pulled you close, your legs wrapping around him as your arms rested on his neck.

He wasted no time in burying his cock into you, a loud scream leaving your throat as you were finally stuffed. You could feel yourself drooling over his shoulder, your loud moans bouncing off of the walls as he bounced you on his cock. Despite the fact you knew he was a machine, you hadn't expected him to be so willing to use you like a fleshlight.

His name fell from your lips like a mantra, whining and begging him to both give you more and to stop because it was so damn overwhelming having his cock slam deep inside of you, targeting your prostate in a hope to milk you for all you had.

Every time he slammed you down onto his cock your eyes rolled back, body twisting in his grip. "K1-K1, Ple-please. God. G-God. G-." You let out a loud scream, orgasm smashing into your body and completely overwhelming you and leaving you panting in his arms. You flopped down onto him, boneless and twitching.

"Better?" K1-B0 questioned, all you could do was shake in his arms and nod.

#kiibo x male reader #k1-b0 x male reader #i love him sm !! <3 #this is so good #dubcon #x male reader nsfw

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