#Or even a well-meaning civilian who knows
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WHISPERS OF GOLD
pairing: demon!satoru x human!reader
summary: when you're tossed as a sacrifice to the tyrannical king you're made to do the impossible, spin straw into gold. you know it's hopeless and that death awaits you yet when a demon appears how can you refuse his help?
content: 15.3k, smut, fluff, fantasy au, fem!reader, violence (not from gojo), masturbation (fem.), cunnilingus (fem. + male. receiving), unprotected, creampie, overstimulation, degradation, praise, dirty talk, fingering, squirting, pssy eating
note: i really like writing fantasy aus with gojo as you guys can tell. i sincerely apologise for the obscene word count that this fic has, please forgive me i got carried away with the world building TT. i've been cooking this one up ngl hope you enjoy!!!
Each girl, over the age of 18, enters every two months and not one returns. Some say that they are kept locked away, others say they are killed brutally. People speculate that the King is a murderous tyrant who had killed to earn the crown. That explains why no maiden has ever passed the test he sets. No one knows what the young women go through, if it's a physical test or a mental one. They have no hints nor is there any information given prior. The chosen ones can never say anything because they never return. The people who try to sneak inside the palace for revenge or simply out of curiosity are killed or horribly slain.
In the Kingdom, there are only three types of people. At the pinnacle were magical beings - creatures or beings that possess Mana more potent than anything, they have the power to overrule any empire and their blood is more pure than any stream.
Mana born children - the ones born with magical powers running through their veins, unlike the magical beings their blood isn’t pure, resulting in them losing to the magical beings. They are usually pampered with luxuries and money. The nobles are blessed with this title.
At the bottom of the hierarchy were the ordinary civilians—those devoid of Mana or magical abilities. They formed the majority of the population and were treated with disdain by the upper echelons of society.
The Kingdom’s hierarchy is unfair, yet no one challenges it for that would mean certain death.
“Morning Mr Kou!” You call out happily. The village is bustling and the market is crowded as usual.
“Morning Y/n. You look well.” The old man you approach is smiling kindly as he hands you two loaves of bread. “How is your father doing?”
You try to hide the obvious fall of your mood. “He’s still in the bar, you know how he is.”
Mr. Kou lets out a sympathetic sigh, shaking his head. Passing you a jar of homemade strawberry jam, he catches your puzzled expression. "Take it, I've made plenty. And how's your little business going?"
“Thank you, Mr Kou.” You beam, dropping a few coins in his hand. “Perfumery? I wouldn’t call it a business, it’s just a little hobby I enjoy doing. It’s going well though, a lot of the village likes them.”
“You’ll be making more than us soon.” He chuckles.
"I could never!" You gasp, a hand coming to your chest and you break out in light laughter. Mr Kou smiles and you say goodbye, setting off.
As you walk through the market, people greet you good morning and give you sweet smiles. The sun bathes the scene in a golden glow, and the joyful laughter of children fills the air as they dart between stalls. One bumps into you and he apologises profusely, running away before you can say anything. The little village you grew up in holds many memories, you practically knew everyone here, but there's a looming shadow of uneasiness that settles across the village.
The two month period was nearly up meaning that another girl would be chosen to enter the palace soon, never to return. No one wanted it to be them. No one. And even though there's a small chance that anyone from your village would be chosen from the entire Kingdom, there was still a chance it could be you.
"If it isn't my best friend in the whole Kingdom." Rei sidles up beside you, her dark hair in a loose braid to the side. "I got you some flowers." She holds a bouquet of multi-coloured tulips, nicely wrapped in purple tissue.
“You sure those aren’t for Ayato?” The corner of your lips lift into a cheeky grin when you see her eyes widen. “The two of you have been getting awfully close lately.” You wiggle your eyebrows.
“Shut up.” She smacks your arms playfully, letting out a giggle. The both of you had known each other for years, starting when you had nearly broken the flower vase in her mother’s shop, blossoming a friendship. From that day onwards you would constantly visit Rei’s ‘flower land’ as she called it when she was six. You also got free flowers whenever you wanted, so that’s always a plus.
Ayato Inoue was the son of the local boutique owner. His mother made quite a lot of money, many nobles visiting her shop gave the family a lot of riches. He, however, took an interest in carpentry. Loving the way wood could be easily moulded with his fingers, how it could be shaped and designed with intricate patterns.
He had met you and Rei when the both of you were teenagers, roaming the woods trying to find medicinal herbs to help your sick father at the time. It was a shock when he had tumbled down from a tree landing unceremoniously on Rei with a loud thunk.
The two were smitten with each other and you resorted to helping both sides.
“They’re for you Y/n.” Rei places the bouquet in your arms. “An early birthday present.”
“My birthday isn’t until next week.” You giggle, sniffing the flowers. The delightful, sweet scent fills your senses. The honeyed tones take you back to the fresh spring and the blooming flowers around the lake. “Thank you though, they smell lovely, I can make great perfume!”
“I know your birthday isn’t until next week, like I said it’s an early birthday present. I won’t be able to make it for your birthday this year, remember?”
You vaguely recall the one afternoon when Rei was excitedly explaining that she would be attending a flower festival in the neighbouring town. She had the same light in her eyes whenever she would arrange bouquets and you knew how much this meant to her. Even if it was on your birthday she had spent multiple with you, one without her would be okay.
Out of the corner of your eye you see Ayato waving at the two of you. There’s a bright smile on his face when he shouts both of your names loudly causing passersby to look at him, irritated. A stall in front of you, selling freshly churned butter, latches onto your attention.
“Rei, why don’t you go accompany Ayato.” You push her towards her crush. “I’ve got to finish up my shopping and I’ll meet you guys at the normal place, okay?”
“Please don’t leave us alone together again.”
“No promises.” You say simply before skipping to the stall.
The overpowering scent hits you like a truck and you inhale the light hints of sweetness in the air, swirled with the familiar hints of dairy. The young girl running the stall can't be much younger than you, maybe two or three years. Fair hair tied in a neat bun and by the tanned colour of her skin she stays in the sun milking cows for hours in the day. She shows you what she's offering and the rows of fresh butter is something that must have taken her hours, even days, to make.
"Must have a lot of cows."
She looks up and a laugh slips out of her lips. "Yeah, but I love them like crazy." She waves her arm in front of the simple display on the stall. "Anything you're interested in?"
"Just plain old butter." You hum, watching as she nods, packaging your order in a small paper bag. She tells you the price and you drop a few coins in her hand, giving her an extra gold coin to which she protests. "Nope, you keep it! Thank you." You press the coins into her hand before skipping off.
The next stop is the flower shop, even with the bouquet in your hands you didn't want to turn that into a perfume, after all it is your birthday present. A shock of colour greets you when you open the door, red roses, purple irises, yellow sunflowers. You pick up each flower, bringing each to your nose as you smell the delicate scent, placing them into your basket if you deem them worthy.
There’s nothing too special about your day, there’s nothing special about your life to be fair. However, as you settle down for the evening and the fire crackles as you look up at the full moon you wonder if, just maybe, there could be something more. You drift off to sleep as usual, conscious dancing away as you let your eyes droop with sleep.
It’s eerily quiet, even for a Monday. Shops are empty and there are only a few people milling around. Not even the old lady by the fountain is there (she’s usually begging for spare coins). You had originally planned to buy some meat for dinner but the owner, Mrs Lee, isn’t by her stall like normal.
There’s a small crowd around the local pub that draws your attention. As you walk closer people give you pitiful looks and they express their condolences. You don’t understand what's happening but there’s an uneasiness that settles itself in the bottom of your stomach. Ayato bounds up to you, panting.
“Y/n!” He grabs your hand, pushing away the crowd to reveal a poster nailed to the wooden wall. The first thing you notice is that it’s got your name plastered in big letters across the top. The second thing you notice are the words ‘next maiden to enter the palace’.
Now the crowd is silent as they watch you read over the information. There are people looking at you sadly and those who knew you since you were a baby have tears in their eyes because they know this is it.
You don’t cry. You don’t scream. You don’t react.
The only thing you do is grip Ayato’s hand and say. “The guards are picking me up on my birthday.” A round of unsettled murmuring erupts from behind you. Nevertheless you put on a brave smile. “I better make the most of my time left then.”
No one dares to speak when the guards come to pick you up in the morning. There’s nothing fancy about the simple white dress you're wearing. Ayato’s mum had insisted she make you an extravagant gown but what use is that when you’re going to die anyway? Even though the carriage that is meant to be escorting you looks regal, it doesn’t mask the fact you’re being treated like a prisoner.
The guards don’t let you walk by yourself, preferring to drag you along by your arms, there are multiple times where their grip would tighten, making you wince in pain. When you take one last look at the crowd you realise a pair of familiar eyes staring back at you.
Rei blinks, tears threatening to escape from her eyes. She can’t do anything and even if she did the guards would probably slit her throat on sight. Ayato must have told her about you getting chosen. You feel partly to blame that she has to miss the flower pageant she’s been so excited to go to. But there's another part of you that's glad she's here. At least you get to see your best friend one more time before you're whisked away.
“Foot. In.” A guard growls, prompting you to properly get into the carriage. He, like the others, isn't looking at you. Their armour clad bodies are faced away from you as they close the door. You cast one last look at the village you grew up in. It hurts that your father isn’t here to see you off but you weren’t expecting anything from him anyway.
The journey to the palace isn’t a comfortable one. You encounter many bumps on the road and your back hurts even with the high quality padding on the seats. You’re not used to this treatment, whenever you would travel you would go by horse. The motions of the carriage had your stomach doing all kinds of tricks.
You watch the scenery outside for a while. Looking at the green trees go by, followed by some pretty flowers. A few birds would often swoop down, allowing you a glimpse of their bright feathers. Since there’s no one to keep you company you find your eyes drooping quicker than expected. Sleep is the only way you could truly escape the cruel reality.
“Get out.”
Your eyes snap open when you feel someone grab your arm, pulling you out of the carriage. It annoys you that you had barely got a wink of sleep before you were shaken awake. There were already red marks on your arms from where they had gripped you last time.
“I can do it myself.” You hiss, tugging your arm away from him, stepping out on your own. He doesn’t bother to reply, only letting out a soft scoff.
The palace is much grander than you expected. It was meant to look magical and beautiful but it only had a dark grim aura around it. The curtains are drawn shut and four turrets rise high in the sky, looming over. There's nothing magical about this.
When you enter the grand doors, there’s a chandelier that greets you. Tiny crystals dangle down, reflecting from the sunlight shining in. The place is dusted in gold. There’s a soft patterned rug beneath your feet and you inspect the swirls of dark purple thread.
A family portrait, hanging from a wall, catches your eye. There’s a man with light blonde hair and a slowly receding hairline yet he has the most captivating jewel-like eyes. That’s the previous King Avery and next to him his wife, Queen Letitia. She was blessed with ruby red hair and a beautiful smile. Her eyes were the loveliest shade of blue. People used to say that once you saw her you wouldn't be able to look away and now you understood what they meant.
You remembered the time when the both of them ruled. You had only been little but even then you could still hear the crowds noise at the yearly festivals. The smell of sweet hot chestnuts and savoury meals. The burning of gunpowder from the fireworks mixed with the stench of bittersweet alcohol. Everyone was always so happy. The Kingdom was at peace but that's in the past.
When the two had passed away the crown passed to their eldest son, Mikhail. He had inherited his fathers jewel eyes and his mothers fiery hair. He had a warmth that exuded from the family portrait that hung above. Both parents had doted on him. Sadly, the crown had only lasted on his head for so long.
The story isn’t clear but one morning, when the maids went to wake him up, he was found dead in his bed. There weren’t any signs of who the killer was or even if it was an assassination. So, at the age of 15, young Prince Kael was crowned King.
Unlike his brother he had dull grey eyes and a bad temper. The red hair he possessed reflected on his power to burn a whole village down if he was angered. His eyes on the portrait were lifeless and unlike the rest he was not smiling. People thought that he had killed Mikhail for the throne and even if the rumours were true, no one had validated them.
Someone from behind you pushes you forward causing you to stumble and you brace yourself already knowing you were going to fall. A pair of arms catch you and you open your eyes to see dark grey orbs staring at you. The man has a scowl on his face.
“Sorry Your Highness, the woman seems to be clumsy.” A guard snatches you away from the King’s arms.
“Even if she is a prisoner here, you shouldn’t push her around. Understand?” Something flickers in his eyes and you get a glimpse of the tyrannical King everyones so afraid of. The guard in question simply nods, not daring to say anything else. The King turns to you. “So you’re the lowly commoner that has Mana running through her veins and a face like a goddess.”
You don’t speak. Normally, you would have glared at whoever called you a ‘lowly commoner’ but this time it’s different. You had your father to blame for getting you into this situation. He just had to get drunk and brag to a guard about his daughter.
“Would you look at that? We've gotten a strong one.” He chuckles, reaching out to brush your cheek but you dodge his hand. “You do realise that if you don't pass the test I have for you, your life is gone.”
“What exactly is this test?” The words come out before your mind can comprehend anything. Kael only grins wickedly.
“Glad you asked.” He motions the guards to help drag you across the floor and up the winding staircase. The higher you went, the colder it seemed to be. Finally, you reached a wooden door with a huge lock. He swings the door open and a pile of straw and a loom is inside. You stand, confused. Did he want you to make him a straw blanket or something?
“Spin straw into gold. That’s all I ask.” He doesn’t give a reaction that he’s joking. You feel the panic well up in your chest. “You have three days, starting tomorrow.” Then he leaves.
It hurts when the guards throw you onto the ground. They don’t speak a word when they lock the door, leaving you in the cold barren room. You shiver unconsciously, they haven’t even bothered to give you a blanket to cover yourself with. The room wasn’t big, there was a bed in the corner and only one tiny window where light could barely shine through. There aren’t any glass panes and no one could look in much less spot you. The room is pungent and if boring had a scent this would be it.
The pile of straw takes up most of the room with the exception of the small loom placed in the corner. You begin to feel hopeless, remembering what the King had said a few minutes ago. No one could spin straw into gold in three days, therefore your life would end. There was no solution to your problem but you were still determined. Maybe it was magic straw or maybe it was enchanted to change into gold if it met the right person.
You approach the pile. It was no bigger than a baby elephant and for someone with magical abilities turning this into gold would be no problem at all. You, however, weren’t gifted with such abilities. Even if you did manage to find a way you would have to stay up all night and you could already notice the sun beginning to set.
It’s impossible.
This was a trap set up for death. No one could survive it. Suddenly, you feel sorry for all the girls that were once put in the exact place you were in. Now you know how all the previous girls felt in your place, they must have given up as well. Given up to be killed instead.
It’s a well known fact in your village that your father was boastful and arrogant, if he had kept his mouth shut maybe you wouldn’t be in this position. There was no reason why he even needed to tell everyone you, a lowly commoner, possessed Mana in your body. He also didn’t need to brag about your beauty, it’s as if he didn’t realise the King would catch whiff of his lies sooner or later.
You don’t know when you fall asleep. Your eyelids close by themselves and your body’s shivering, no blanket to keep you warm from the cold cell. The whistling of the wind sings you a lullaby to sleep and you let your worries slip.
“Seriously? Another one?” A voice mutters and you hear a low growl. “At least this one’s prettier than the rest.”
You’re still half asleep when you open our eyes, tired. It doesn’t hit you that there’s someone looming over you until the man smirks. His sapphire eyes draw you in and you forget how to use your voice momentarily and you only snap out of it when his eyes flicker to a bright ruby red then back to the coal black it once was.
“You’re what? Number 63?” He groans, ruffling his white hair. It’s tousled perfectly and there are strands that stick out. However, his hair still looks impeccable even after he runs his fingers through it repeatedly. “Seriously, you’re probably scared of me aren’t you, human?” He kneels down so you can look at him without breaking your neck.
Up close, you can examine the beauty of his facial features. Eyes that are big and round that you’re sure once held the innocence of a child. Sharp jaw and skin so smooth and pale. His lips are tinted red. Plump and plushy. It strikes you that his flawless face didn’t look human at all. Actually, there is nothing that will give him away, that is if you didn't look closely.
“What are you?”
“W-What am I?!” He splutters, completely dumbfounded. You nod, hoping that you didn’t anger this non-human. “I’m a human of course.” He puffs out his chest confidently, like he didn’t just give himself away a few seconds ago.
“You called me a ‘human’ just a while ago. So it’s either you have a really weird god complex or you’re not human. And judging by the way your eyes can change colour, which only magical beings can possess, you’re not human at all.” You scoot away from him, maintaining a good distance between the two of you. “Now tell me, what are you?”
He scowls. “Smart one, aren’t you?” He sits down, lighting a fire in his hand, making you gasp. He grins wickedly, creeping towards you. “You want to know what I am, little human?” You gulp when he leans in close so you could feel his hot breath against your neck, whispering.
“I’m a demon.”
You leap backwards, crossing your arms over your chest. Though you had no Mana, you were taught how to pack a good punch by Ayato.
Demons are rare in the Kingdom but you can still find them lurking, mingling with humans. Their kind was eradicated years ago yet some still survived. They grew in secret, disguising themselves like humans to blend in, to keep safe. Mana flowed through their veins instead of blood, the possessed magical abilities much more powerful than any other magical being.
Parents taught their children to stay away from anyone with jewel like eyes and a face that seemed too good to be true. You were taught the same. Demons are known to inflict terror and fear on their victims. They hate the existence of humans, the exact kind that destroyed them.
And here you are, in a room with one.
“So now you’re scared. Are you going to run away?” The demon grins, teeth blindingly white. “Wait you can’t, you’re locked in and the only way to escape is to spin straw into gold. Pity, truly a pity. Such a beautiful girl like you being sacrificed because of one tyrannical king.”
“I don’t need someone mocking me when I’m going to die soon.” You snap. “And a demon at that.”
His grin widens and you can see how his teeth are sharper, almost like knives. “What if you don’t die?”
You frown. Don’t die. That’s impossible, you have to spin straw into gold. Even if you escape, which you can’t, you will be shot by the dozens of archers around the palace. Yet you’re still curious what this demon meant.
“How would I do that?” You ask.
He holds his hand out, smirking, eyes suddenly reverting to the shocking red. “Make a deal and find out.”
That night you toss and turn, head filled with thoughts. Thoughts that shouldn't have been there in the first place. There’s no way you could make a deal with a demon. Making one would mean binding your soul to him, so you’re to obey his every command. It’s a contract between an owner and the dog, to which you are on the losing side. Not to mention the ridiculous predicament he had offered in exchange for your life.
You wouldn't...sleep with him. It was clearly not right and you've never been taken to bed. It would be completely inappropriate.
Yet the lewd thoughts of him moaning above you as you whimper and twitch helplessly beneath him has your panties soaking. The mere sounds of his delightful groans has your heart racing. The image of him plunging into your wet pussy, erotic sounds echoing off the stone walls. It didn't help that he had such an attractive face. Demons were always known to be amazingly good looking but you didn't think that they would look so beautiful.
You close your eyes, imagining the way he would whisper into your ear, biting your earlobe as he trails wet kisses down your neck. How his hot breath would burn your skin as he mutters your name over and over again in a way leaving you wanting more. The only thing that was missing was his name but you knew that Demons would never reveal their name to someone because that would mean that they would have to obey that every person's command, no matter how dangerous or lethal.
The feeling of your hot wet core has you squirming. It’s stupid how something like him was able to provoke such an intimate reaction from you. The painties you're wearing cling to your folds and you haven't brought a change of clothes. However, the heat is too much to bear and you bury your fingers inside your pussy with no hesitation. There's something that unravels within you when you curl your fingers. You suppress the urge to moan, only letting small whines escape your lips.
Unbeknownst to you, there are a pair of dark eyes, watching as you throw your head back in pleasure. Watching as you let little, cute moans escape from your lips. He grins smugly.
"Looks as if the little human will be accepting the deal after all."
The first day flies by with you pondering the deal. It stays in your mind for most part of the day, spare some time with you staring at the pile of straw. There are moments between the day when the guards will slip you crumbs of food and each time they would glance at the straw and give you a look of sympathy. The food they give is just enough, a slice of bread and a cup of water. Your stomach groans with hunger even after your meal.
It's at nightfall when you hear the low crackle of a fire. You turn around, ready to throw a punch only to see the demon. He's dressed as if he's about to go to a funeral, black suit with a crisp black shirt underneath. He asks if you've accepted the deal and you vehemently shake your head. All he reacts with is a twitch of his lips that threaten to draw up into a gleeful grin. You don't plan to give in. So that night you sleep in peace.
There are still two days left.
When the sun rises you get up. Now you're more determined than ever to get this straw into gold. You stalk over to the loom, trying to thread the straw but it's too difficult. Your fingers are sore and they're starting the bleed. The straw starts fraying causing you to panic. There's the smell of burning wood and you try to look out of the tiny slot they have provided the room for air. You can't see anything but your best guess was that they are burning some trees or some rotten, old wooden swords.
The afternoon sun still beams down brightly though you can't see it. The stone room is cold despite the warm weather. You wrap your arms around yourself, hoping to get warmer. The crust of bread you had eaten had begun to digest and your stomach craved for more food.
That night the demon comes back again, this time wearing a simple white shirt, the first few buttons undone. You try not to stare at the creamy expanse of his chest instead focusing on the fact you had less than 48 hours until your life would be ended. He once again asks if you accepted the deal but you decline, this time more hesitant. You don't want to give in, don't want to be binded to him, yet you don't want to die either.
You stay awake for most of the night. There's a sickening feeling that you hate. It eats you up, swallowing you whole. You know there's no other way.
The morning of the third day awakens, the urge to hurl your stomach across the floor is more prominent. But you don't, mostly because you know that no one will care. You've given up on trying to spin straw into gold. If the cuts on your fingers said anything it would be to stop. Somewhere in your mind you're doubting yourself and you're doubting the choice you've made. However, you don't want to die and although you don’t want to admit it the demon sure is good looking. At least this way you'll be able to live.
It's exactly when the sun sets that the demon appears. This time it's as if he's just woken up. Loose shirt that hangs off his frame, hair that looks as if he's just stepped out of a bath. You can see his defined abdomen through the white shirt and you can't help yourself when you stare. He doesn't have to say anything as he tilts his head, a growing smirk on his face.
You take a deep breath. “I’ll accept.”
The demon’s eyes sparkle with victory and you hate it. “We’ll get started then.”
“Wait, what?!” Your eyes widen to the size of fists. “Why are you making this sound as if it’s a job?”
“Would you rather I treat you like my wife?” He raises his eyebrows at you expectedly and you suddenly feel embarrassed.
“Well you could at least try to make yourself sound more seductive.” You scoff, gaining a little bit of confidence. “It’s like you’re not even trying.”
You watch as his eyes flicker back and forth from red to black. He walks closer, pinning you against the wall. There’s a faint smell of ash lingering on him and it somehow makes your thighs quiver. His nose nudges just below your ear and you close your eyes, feeling his hot breath graze your skin.
He doesn’t say anything when he presses light, feathery kisses against your skin. You take a shaky breath, gasping when he starts moving his lips closer to your jaw. There’s a cocky look in his eyes when you meet them and you resist the urge to let out a sound of pleasure. When he pulls away, leaving you breathless, you try to rearrange your thoughts.
“Is that how you like it?” He pushes his tongue against his cheek. No words leave your lips so you nod dumbly. “It’s your first time isn’t it?” Again you nod causing him to let out a primitive growl. “I’ll try to take it easy, no promises angel.”
It happens too quickly and you don’t have time to catch your breath before his lips are crashing onto yours. They’re plump and soft and you could taste a hint of sweetness. You find yourself wondering what to do for a while but your worries are extinguished when he grabs your hands, throwing them over his shoulders. He pulls you closer and you melt against him.
All previous anxious thoughts about what you were going into were erased. His tongue flicks over your bottom lip and it tangles with yours. You feel yourself growing wet, panties sticking. It only shocks you more when his large hands come up to caress your cold skin, the difference in temperatures makes you shiver. You whimper when he pulls away. Your mind is foggy and filled with desire.
He presses his forehead against yours, slipping your dress off. The cold air hits your skin with his touches lighting parts of your body on fire. His fingers travel down to your waist like little butterflies. They seem to dance across your soft skin. Slowly, he slides a finger through your folds, gathering your arousal between his fingers. You hold back your sounds of pleasure, afraid the guards would hear.
“Don’t do that.” He whispers, breath fanning across your face. Even though it’s quiet you can’t help but find him so seductive, so entrancing. It’s like he knows the effect he has on you as he rubs your sensitive bud. "They can't hear you, magic remember."
You let out a small moan when his finger enters inside you. The stretch isn't much but it still has you squirming whenever he would prod a place that you could never reach. He bends down, attaching his lips to your clit, placing gentle kisses. He inserts another finger with ease, your velvet walls clamping around him and he starts pumping his digits inside you.
"Feel good?" He murmurs against your hot skin, the ministrations vibrating through your body. It takes you by surprise when he curls his fingers, pressing down. "So pretty. Such a pretty pussy." He places a gentle kiss in your glistening folds and you whimper. You lace your fingers through his hair, gasping for air when he licks.
Your chest heaves up and down, loving the way his tongue laps at your core, fingers moving, and a feeling filling you up in what could only be described as pure euphoria. The rhythm he’s moving at is slow and steady, with his wet muscle accompanying him it’s more than enough. You grip onto his hair as you let out a breathless whine, being unable to call him by his name only has you pleading in a different way.
He looks up at you, fluttering lashes making him look almost angelic except he is sucking at your clit, tongue and fingers pleasuring you. “You’re holding onto me awfully tight, darling.”
“Sorry.” You let your hands fly off his hair causing him to chuckle. He continues his movements and you’re reduced to a pile of pants. You smooth his hair from above, making sure not to tug too hard. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“Don’t worry.” His eyes turn red. “I’m a demon, remember?”
It makes you hold his shoulders tightly when he prods his wet tongue as you keen at his touch, spreading your legs wider. You can feel his smirk against your core and you inhale sharply when he adds another digit, stretching your tight pussy out more.
Every single sensation, every single movement has you moaning in his grasp, there isn’t a time where you didn’t feel good. The way he’s able to make your pleasure climb is unbelievable and at the same time you want more.
There’s a new feeling that starts to build up when he thrusts his fingers harder, tongue continuing to play with your delicate clit. It has your mind blanking and you try to hold yourself still. He watches as your back arches and as your body writhes and twists at the uncontrollable desire that coursed through your body. There’s something about you that has him thrusting his fingers faster, eager to let you have your release.
Your legs tremble and you feel yourself giving away. The newfound feeling washing over you like a tidal wave and it has you letting out a loud gasp as you throw your head back. All he does is watch, your tight pussy pulsing around his fingers, cum dripping out. You’re gasping, heaving for air as you feel your lungs burn. He laps it up, loving the way you taste and suddenly you’re all too aware of the mess you had created.
You don’t have words, all you can do is let out multiple sounds, all of which are filled with lust. He keeps working his fingers, thumb finding your folds, this makes you pant at the sensitivity, the mere feeling of being overstimulated puts your mind in a haze. He loves your reactions, the way your body twitches at his light touches to the way your voice sounds when you’re moaning. Albeit, his name never leaves your perfect lips but the way you’re submitting to him is more than enough.
He yearns for another orgasm, pushing you and your tight little pussy, trying to achieve something that he knows you can. It doesn’t take long for another gush of cum to come flowing out of you, your lips parted as you let out a silent scream. He lets you rest for a minute, focusing on licking up every drop of cum. Hush tongue pokes and prods, gently massaging itself on your pussy. Your fingers tangle in his hair once more, letting yourself succumb.
You lie, lungs desperate for air. It’s something you've never experienced before and now that you have, you crave for it. You cast a glance at the demon, his hair, now a mess, in between your legs.
“C-Can I…” You trail off, not sure how to phrase what you want. “Can I…”
He seems to know what you’re trying to say because he has a smug grin that’s overtaking his face as he crawls closer to your worn out body.
“You can say it. Be a good girl and use those words.” His voice is deep and there’s an underlying hint of raspiness that has you feeling all sorts of emotions. Your cheeks light on fire when he licks a long stripe up your drenched core.
"C-Can I have your cock…?" You mumble under your breath.
He grins, finding your answer satisfying. There isn’t a second that’s wasted as he lines his hard throbbing dick with your pussy. You nibble at your bottom lip, casting an anxious glance at him. He smiles gently, whispering that he isn’t going to do you any harm. You let out a strangled cry when he pushes in. The feeling is much different to his fingers, the girth so much thicker and you can feel the way it’s so slowly filling you up as you gasp for air. He stops for a moment, letting you adjust.
“You okay?” He asks, warm hands massaging your hips as you squirm above him. “I’m not going too fast?”
For a soul sucking creature he sure is awfully nice. You shake your head, eyes pleading for him to move. “I’m okay.”
His movements start off slow at first, pushing in and out at a steady pace. It still makes your body fill with desire and you gasp whenever he thrusts in. It’s when he picks the pace up, sliding faster, hips snapping to yours. He’s growing rougher and you love it, voice begging for more and more. Every moan and whimper that leaves your lips is accompanied by a praise from the demon as he fucks you to heaven.
The way his cock stretches you out and the way your walls clamp around him. Every single thing is something you could never dream of. His cock pulsed inside your gummy walls and your hands clawed at his back, desperate to grip onto him for support. Various sounds are elicited out of you and the demon grunts from above. You can see the bead of sweat dripping from his forehead, eyes dark as the night but they hold so much passion.
“Feel good angel? Got such a loud pussy on you, you hear that?” The wet lewd sounds fill your ears and you try to focus but all you can hear is the continuous pounding as his cock plunges into your pussy. “She’s just so loud isn’t she? Nasty pussy.”
His words have you reeling and you gasp at every thrust. You babble and scream at the sheer fullness of his cock as it fucks you deeper and deeper.
“A-Ahh! Shut u-up, ‘s embarrassing.”
The demon only grins at your words, cooing softly as you flush from heat. His thrusts quicken as he pounds into you harshly. It’s your first time but he feels as if he’s wrecked you multiple. He feels as if the world’s in his hands as your walls pulsate around his cock. You writhe around below him, moans escaping your beautiful lips, each one growing more and more erotic. He’s already decided he loves seeing you desperate and powerless beneath him, grinding your hips against his.
“You’re such a dirty girl aren’t you?” His voice is deep, laced with menace. He loves the expressions you make, the way you react to the most littlest of things, the way your body is so sensitive. A mere touch can light sparks inside of you. He leans down to whisper in your ear. “But you’re my dirty girl.”
Every word that comes out of his mouth never fails to make your stomach light aflame. You gasp and squirm, hands automatically finding the way to his broad shoulders. You hold onto them as he fucks into you. The demon’s mouth crashes onto yours, swallowing every one of your sinful sounds. His fingers massage the supple flesh of your breasts, cupping them in one hand as they bounce. His thumb brushes over your sensitive nipple, causing your body to jolt in surprise.
“Taking me so well.” He watches, amazed, at how your pretty pussy sucks his cock in. You whimper at his praise, sparks igniting within you, something you’ve never felt before. “Tell me how well you take me.” He smirks as he notices how you divert your eyes.
You don’t respond and when you look back you see his eyes narrow at your reluctance to speak. Before you know it he’s lifting your legs higher, his cock reaching deeper. A moan leaves your lips as you struggle to comprehend what is happening. Your mind is hazy and your mouth is open, saliva trickling down your chin.
“I asked you a question slut.”
“So well. So so so well, I take you s-so well, nghhh, oh my god!” You pant under your breath, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. His thumb and forefinger come up to grip your chin, pulling you closer to him.
“Repeat that for me, darling.”
You search his eyes but you find nothing but lust and desire. He grins wickedly, cock thrusting into you harshly. You can feel every inch of him, every pulsating vein that carves into your walls. You gulp, wide eyes never blinking as you stare at him. “My pussy t-takes you so well, mmphh, so so well. Need it deeper, please please please, feels s-so good.””
The words make the demon feral and you feel yourself seeing the stars at the sheer force. He fucks you even harder, grinning as you thrash against his grip. The fire in your body continues to spread, heat swallowing you whole, refusing to let go of you. You throw your head back, little soft moans escaping your delicate lips as you buck your hips up to his, desperate to cum. The tainted sight of your body in his arms makes him groan. Your once bare neck is now littered with bruises that he created. The mark of his. The demon loves knowing that your innocent being is now stained with his essence, one that will stay there forever.
“I’m c-close…” You manage to get out between pants, beads of sweat rolling down your forehead. You squeeze around his cock, making him growl. “I’m s-so close!”
“Yeah.” He grunts, quickening the pace of his hips, cock sliding in and out faster than ever. You screw your eyes shut, digging your nails into his back and he hisses. “C’mon angel, cum for me, be a good girl.” He purrs.
Who are you to decline his order?
“Ah ah ah! I-I’m gonna cum, gonna cum so much! F-Feels so so good, hnngh, gonna cum gonna cum.”
The fire inside of you finally bursts, dying embers rain down upon you, your orgasm wracking through your body, every tingle ricocheting off your bones. Your body spasms around his cock, and your cum flows out of your pussy, creaming on his cock. The many mutters of pleasure that leave your mouth are far louder than you expect and you find yourself letting out a strangled scream.
The demon’s cock is still pounding into you and soon warm cum floods your walls, mixing with your own. The warmth spills into your hot core and suddenly you feel so full, not like anything you’ve ever felt like before. His cock is still inside and the movements gradually slow down to a stop. He presses his sweaty forehead against yours and you feel your heart beat faster. You see how his hair, now damp, sticks to his head, eyes twinkling like stars.
You hiss, wincing when he pulls out. The strange feeling of emptiness is one that you’re not used to. The demon hushes your cries with his lips, smoothing our hair down with his hand. He snaps his fingers and suddenly there’s a warm knitted blanket wrapped around your body. The sticky feeling is no more and you feel more comfortable with the wool around your shoulders. He watches as you nod off, eyes drooping and you faintly hear soft words being sung and though you can't make out the exact lyrics of the song you know it’s something you want to hear over and over again.
When you wake up the next morning, the demon's gone and he leaves a pile of sparkling gold coins. Each of them look brighter than the next. They could buy a house for a family. But it's not the gold coins that keep your attention, it's the memory of last night that sticks to your mind. You remember the way he had sung you to sleep and the way his voice sounded so beautiful, so euphoric.
You remember the way he had cleaned you up afterwards, tending to you with utmost care that you had nearly forgotten what he was. And even though there are parts of last night that send tingles up your spine, it was what happened after that made your cheeks heat up and your heart go fuzzy. The wool, knitted blanket has fallen to your lap and you clench it in your hand. It’s so soft and you wrap it around you, inhaling the comforting scent.
It saddens you a bit when you realise he's not there when you wake up, but you have no time to dwell because you can hear the door open. You hurry to shuffle back up, quickly stuffing the blanket to one corner in order to not arouse any suspicion. You don’t say a word when the guards step in. They look unbothered at first but once they catch sight of the gleaming gold where the straw once was, their eyes widen. When their gaze lands on you, you look down, afraid that they would see through you and your lies.
There are hush whispers that are exchanged between them and you briefly hear the words ‘his highness’. You force the lump in your throat to go down, hoping that he will release you. A few minutes go by before Kael comes bursting through the doors, eyes filled with rage. You’re scared. You did what he asked, why is he angry?
A flitting thought passes by that he knows that you had made a contract with a demon crosses your mind however you shake it out. Demons keep their contracts extremely confidential and they make it their pride and honour to withstand that.
“You!” He seethes, lunging for your neck. “How did you do it?!” His grip on your neck isn’t too tight but it’s tight enough that it hurts and you aren’t able to speak. It’s like he reads your mind as he immediately releases his grasp, throwing you onto the floor.
You let out a few coughs, rubbing your sore neck.
“Tell me how you did it?”
“I did as you asked, straw into gold, now set me free.” You don’t bother to look him in the eye.
There's a momentary silence that fills the room and the guards exit without being told. Kael stares down at you, his grey eyes looking like a raging storm. “Free?” He lets out a laugh. “You don’t get to be free until I say so, love.”
You open your mouth in protest but close it when you see his hand rest on the sword by his side. Your blood boils and you keep yourself from lashing out, not wanting to be slain on the spot. Fine, if he wants you to spin straw into gold once more, you will. He has to let you free.
“It seems as if three nights is much too generous and this mere pile of straw.” He picks up the gold, inspecting it as if it was dirt instead of money. “But I'm not cruel, I'll give you the same amount of time to spin double the amount. The guards will deliver the straw later in the afternoon, I expect you know what happens if you don’t succeed.”
He leaves, not sparing a glance as he struts away. Not cruel? Not cruel?! He's delusional if he thinks he isn't cruel. You sit still, thoughts processing in your mind. The guards don’t say anything as they relock the door.
The afternoon comes by sooner than you expect and you watch as another batch of straw is wheeled in. This batch is twice the size of the first one, it covers most of the space in the room. You feel your hopes start to dwindle, wondering if the demon will show up tonight, like he did before.
What if it was a one time thing?
As the hours go by, with no sign of a demon appearing, you start to accept your fate. The sun has already set and the moon is high in the sky. You are sure the hour is late and your eyes are starting to get heavy with sleep. Everything’s so tiring and with all the newly added stress it’s nice to finally get a rest. Pulling out the blanket you wrap it over your shoulders, shuffling to adjust into a comfortable position.
There’s a loud crackle when you let your eyes close and they flicker back to life. The demon is standing in front of you, clothes tinged with smoke and there’s a little fire that he tries to pat it down. He’s cursing at the dying embers and you let a little giggle slip past your lips.
You let a tired smile take over your face, whispering softly. “Hi.”
He looks up at you and an expression of worry crosses his face. “Have you been waiting for me all night?” You nod, slowly finding yourself drifting away. He approaches you, sitting down beside your body. He leans your head on his shoulder, letting you rest. “Go to sleep, you deserve it.”
With his words you finally let yourself snuggle up to him, eyes fluttering shut. Your mind is already asleep as you shuffle around, trying to get into the best position. He looks at you, peacefully sleeping next to a monster who could suck your soul any second now yet he doesn’t, and he won’t.
Soon, he feels his eyes start to droop and his head bobs up and down from sleep. The darkness envelops his sight as he feels your heart beat steadily against his chest. And slowly he drifts off as well, the two of you lying, snuggling for warmth as the moon rises higher. A pair of dark eyes watch the pair and the demon is too absorbed in sleep to notice the way the dark orbs flicker with fire and how they narrow. Then they're gone, disappearing in the dark sky, only traces that they leave behind is the scent of burnt cedar and bitter blueberries.
You awake the next morning to feel a heavy sensation on top of you and you lazily open your eyes, bleary from sleep. The rays of sunshine come through from the tiny window of air you're given. You see things sideways and you're wondering why until you catch sight of the arm around your waist and the scent of musky pine and vanilla. You scramble to sit up straight and feel your cheeks flush when you realise you've been lying on the demon's shoulder for the whole night.
He looks beautiful.
Moving as slowly and quietly as possible, you lift his arm, trying to wriggle free from his grasp. It doesn’t work though because the demon’s awoken and he stares at you with bleary, sleepy eyes. You clear your throat, shuffling away from him.
“Good morning to you too.” He yawns, running his long fingers through his hair.
“Did you stay here for the whole night?”
He blinks. “Well, human, if I’m here right now I suppose that proves your statement correct, doesn’t it?”
You feel your cheeks heat up at the bluntness. “I’m sorry I think I should have phrased that better, why did you stay here the whole night?”
This time he flushes, a subtle light pink dusting the apples of his cheeks. He shuffles awkwardly, avoiding your eye contact before whispering something that you can’t quite catch.
“Can you repeat that?”
“I said.” He huffs. “I stayed because I was tired and...and because I wanted to.”
A small smile reaches your lips and you stifle your giggles at his flustered state. The demon meets your eyes and the two of you don’t break each other's gazes. Everything seems to break away in that moment and you forget the predicament you’re in, preferring to find solace in the creature in front of you.
He’s the first one that looks away, prompting you to do as well. Your heart’s beating at an abnormal pace and your breath hitches when he pulls you closer towards him. His eyes fix on your neck and you’re unsure why until you remember the events of what happened yesterday. You shrink back as much as you can, Kael can't have gripped you that hard, can he?
"Did that bastard do that?" He grits his teeth and you see his eyes flash red.
"It's honestly nothing, I'm fine, nothing wrong." You try to reassure him, pushing his hands off your neck. He frowns, tracing his fingers over your throat and you gulp at the soft touch. "W-What are you doing?" You stutter, suddenly nervous at his actions.
He doesn't say a word, finger gliding across your skin. He presses over the place Kael had gripped on your neck. A cool sensation rushes through your body and up to your neck and you suddenly feel much more revived. It feels like ice has just been applied and you see a hint of blue light flash before your eyes, a glowing circle and it bursts raining soft feathers around you. A refreshing scent of mint and the ocean breeze greets your senses and it's so relaxing. The demon smiles. You don't even realise that your eyes are closed until you open them and you see blue sparks, that indicate healing powers, flickering in his palm before it extinguishes.
"What? Demons can have healing abilities, we're not entirely evil."
Now that your eyes are open you realise how close he is to you and your heart picks up again. Your eyes betray you and flicker down to his cherry red lips, ones that you're so desperate to kiss. The demon notices the way you look at him and he too tries not to let his urges take over.
"That's...cool." You're searching for something to say and when each word comes out of your mouth he can't help but look. "Can I ask for your name?"
This causes him to pull back immediately, he flinches as if he's been burnt with hot iron. Your eyes widen when you register what you had just asked. You're spluttering for an apology, trying to grab your words because you somehow think you've offended him but the demon just stares at you blank-faced.
"You know I can't tell you."
You pause before you hang your head in shame. "Yeah, I know."
"I can allow you anything but that."
And yet that's the only thing you want to know.
"Well then…" You let your eyes drift to the pile of straw in the room. "I'm sure you've seen that."
"Yeah." He chuckles. "Need my help?"
You swallow the large lump in your throat, nodding your head. He grins as he approaches you and you back up against the wall. "Can there be a change though?"
"Name it."
"Can I make you feel good?"
That's what makes the demon stop in his tracks, eyes widening. He coughs, spluttering for words. Everything he wants to say, or plans, has flown away and he can only stare at you, blinking like an owl. He can't help the thoughts that invade his head and he watches as you shrink back even further and he wants nothing more but to ruin you. Eventually, after you wave your hand in front of his face, he regains himself, clearing his throat.
"Are you going to make me repeat it…?" He hesitates for his answer and you don’t know if it’s because he’s nervous or he simply has nothing to say. “Actually you know what, it’s fine-”
You stop, words stuck in your throat as he comes impossibly close to you. His eyes are so big as they stare at yours and you don't feel nervous, or the jitters. You feel calm. More than calm. When his lips press onto yours you can’t help but melt under him and it's soothing, maybe because you've already kissed him but every action feels familiar.
His hands wander and you let him cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer towards him. The warmth spreads through your body and you tangle your fingers through his dark locks. You shift on the floor and his hands slip the straps of your dress below your shoulders. Goosebumps follow the trail his lips leave and you let out a quiet moan.
“You’re driving me insane.” He murmurs against your skin, hot breath fanning across your flesh. He locks eyes with you and You whimper softly feeling the weight of his gaze. Your eyes widen when he stands up to his full height and you suddenly feel intimidated by how he’s towering over you. "Fucking love it."
You watch as he unbuckles his belt, eyes fixated on the growing bulge. Your head spins in circles. Every kiss makes the darkness beneath your eyelids burst with colour. Your dress is long forgotten on the floor and all you can focus on is the pretty thing right in front of your face. His cock is red and it's throbbing as he strokes his hand over his length. You can’t help but stare in wonder.
"Open your mouth, angel."
You obey, pretty lips taking his cock into your mouth and he groans. His fingers trace circles at the back of your neck and you peer up at him, long lashes fluttering against your smooth cheeks. He coos, stroking a large hand before cupping your face.
Curses leave his pretty lips, falling off his tongue and you watch his expression contort into one of pure ecstasy as you continue your movements. You pump his cock with your hands, tongue swirling around the head. You're not entirely sure what you're doing and you're doing what you feel is right. Sure enough the demon is squirming and moaning above you, urging you to go faster. You comply, pulling away to ask if you're doing okay and he wordlessly nods, pushing you back down.
"Pretty girl, my pretty whore." He grins wickedly and you feel your pussy clench at the degrading term. "You like that? You like me calling you a dirty whore? That's what you are. My. Fucking. Whore."
He punctuates each word with a thrust and you're rendered speechless, eyes rolling backwards into your skull. You're whimpering around him, tears collecting at your eyes and you plead at him desperately. Salvia drools from your lips, painting his cock with wetness. You know it’s messy but you don’t care.
"Look at you." He coos, fingers wrapping around your jaw as he tugs you to look at him. "A mess around my cock. You asked for this angel."
A warm feeling pools at the bottom of your stomach and it intensifies. You flutter your eyelids shut, enjoying the way you're being ruined. Each thrust of his hips into your mouth makes your body crumble, the arousal coats your pussy and you clench your thighs together. Your throat feels tight and your lips are permanently wrapped around his cock. You continue to bob your head up and down and each time the demon jolts his hips you’re hit in the back of your throat making you moan around his length.
“So so so pretty, fffuckk, your mouth feels so good. You’re such a fucking whore, I’m gonna ruin this little mouth, fill it up with my cum.”
You whimper at the thought. The feeling in your stomach only grows and you start to feel wet. Spit falls from your mouth and your whole body feels as though it’s on fire. There’s the same need and urge that you felt the other day and you’re desperate to release yourself to the desire that pools within you.
The demon above only groans at every lick and suck you give him. You watch as his face contorts, watching every expression with scrutiny. You watch as he squeezes his eyes shut, throws his head back and you watch the plushy lips part open as a guttural moan is released.
Cum trickles into your mouth and your eyes widen at the hotness that spreads across your tongue. You swallow every last drop and the taste seeps into your mouth. It’s not entirely bitter yet it’s not sugary sweet either. A taste you can’t exactly pinpoint but you know that you would never get enough of. The demon watches starry-eyed at your obedience and he groans, tugging at your hair. He bucks his hips, murmuring praises under his breath. You smile when he places a light kiss to your lips and you feel yourself light aflame. It's a strange feeling and the kisses he litters in your body are gentle and sweet. Your name slips from his lips, soft and comforting and his eyes seem to twinkle and you feel yourself falling and falling.
It's as if time stands still. The hours drag on and you thoroughly enjoy the time spent with the demon. He proves to be better company than you could have hoped for. Conversation mixed with humour lightens the mood and despite there being certain topics that aren't one to discuss, the two of you make do. You're still wary, keeping your guard up in case of anything and you suspect he knows as he doesn't prod your boundaries as such.
A day, free from worry, is one you bask in. The demon doesn't know what it is but something about you draws him in. Something about your curious eyes and joyful smile lights something within him. He has a vague idea of what it might be but it's impossible but he can't help but find himself feeling it anyway.
But he knows the consequences will come. Sooner or later. And he hopes later.
The land of Karnopia is vast and grand. Stretching far and wide, its borders seem to fade into infinity, concealing untold horrors within its depths. Here, amidst the desolate silence, the greatest concentration of demons known to existence find their domain. It’s silent and there’s only the soft crackling of dying embers that could be heard. It’s dark and gloomy, no light could be seen. Not many voices are ever heard and even if they are they would be screams of anguish and agony.
"I see you're back, Satoru." A man with ghostly pale skin and shocking black hair remarks, his attention momentarily torn from his magazine as the demon enters the house. "You're returning later and later. This wouldn't have anything to do with that human girl you've contracted with, would it?"
“What’s it to you?” Satoru's lip curls in a snarl, his teeth bared defensively. He realises too late that his reaction betrays his vulnerability, a fact not lost on the man before him.
The man's grin widens at Satoru's response. "Ah, it seems I've struck a nerve. Could it be that poor Satoru has fallen in love?"
Satoru’s cheeks heat up, tinting with a soft pink flush. The memory of your bright smile and the sound of your melodic voice linger in his mind, stubbornly refusing to fade. With you, there's no clear boundary between contractor and demon; it's as if all his defences have crumbled in your presence, a vulnerability he knows is dangerous.
"Shut up."
The demon's eyes flicker ominously, shifting from their usual dark blue hue to a fiery red. With a dismissive gesture, he discards the magazine and advances toward Satoru, his strides purposeful and unsettling.
"You do realise," He begins, his voice dripping with malice. "that if you've truly fallen for her, you're paying a higher price than she is." His words hang heavy in the air, laden with a warning that sends a shiver down Satoru's spine. "You're putting yourself in danger, as well as her. Her life can be snuffed out with ease. His Majesty won't take kindly to this."
“My father doesn’t like anything I do, so there isn’t a point.” Satoru snaps back, shrugging his jacket off, making his way up to his room. “And I know what I’m risking.” He doesn’t say more as he trudges upstairs.
There is no more to be said and the black-haired demon can do nothing but sigh, hoping his friend truly had everything under control. If Satoru's feelings for you are genuine, it could spark a conflict that would tear their world apart. A war that will divide everyone.
Satoru slams his door shut, leaning against it as he exhales a shaky breath. His room, in stark contrast to the rest of the house, is a sanctuary. Dim light filters through heavy curtains, casting soft shadows that dance across the walls. It’s here, in the privacy of his own space, that he allows himself to think of you freely. His mind drifts back to the last time he saw you, the way you looked at him with such trust and affection. It’s a rare and precious thing for a demon to experience, and it’s something he treasures more than his own life.
Somewhere far away you lie, peacefully sleeping, not knowing that your demon was still awake, replaying the words he had heard. If his feelings are true he knows nothing good will come of this and all he hopes is that you will be safe.
It’s weird to say the least.
Lately, the demon’s been visiting you more often than expected. Usually it’s on the days you need help but now, he arrives at the crack of dawn and stays till the sun sets. You don’t know how long it’s been that you’ve been trapped. You don’t complain because, as much as you hate to admit it, you've grown accustomed to him. Dare say you like his company. It makes the cold cell more warm when he’s around. He doesn’t do much but talk and most of the time the two of you sit in comfortable silence.
You still don’t know what to do. Or what Kael will do. He hasn't come to visit and you’ve been locked up for a couple of days since he came. You hope he’s forgotten about you but you doubt that was the case.
It scares you when you think about it so you try not to give it much thought. You indulge yourself in thinking what Rei and Ayato would be doing right this moment. Home is something you think about often and it’s impossible not to feel sad about it. The demon’s here though, he makes things better even if it’s by a little bit.
“So you’re a perfumer?” He frowns. “Don’t you normally earn lots of money with that? How are you not...well, you know?”
“Rich?” You scoff light-heartedly. “To get rich you need a business, silly, and to get a business you need some sort of advertisement that boosts the popularity of your product. However, no noble will buy my perfume considering my status in the kingdom.” You sigh, shrugging. “It’s just how life is. I’m perfectly content with just selling it to the people around in the village.”
“Yet you don’t want the world to know of your talent?” The demon snorts. “If I had such skills I would be raking in coins every day and feeding myself till I’m full.” He pauses, creasing his brow. “And I think it’s stupid how the nobility look down when they do nothing but sit on their ass all day.”
You let out a laugh at his statement, nodding your head in agreement.
The loud thundering sounds of footsteps stop your slight happiness and once again you’re thrown into a pot of fright. You turn to tell the demon to go but he’s already gone so you busy yourself to pretend you are sleeping. The door slams open and you can feel the heat of the candle above your face. You tell yourself not to move. Not to make a sound, steadying your breathing.
“Wake up.” A low voice grunts and you keep your eyes shut, hoping that they’ll go away if you feign sleep. “Wake up bitch.” A swift kick is delivered to your stomach and you cough at the impact, wincing as you grip your wounded body.
“No need to kick the dog Derek.” A voice drawls from the side and you look up to see two guards, grinning like sharks. “We don’t want the pretty lady to have scars now.”
A hand reaches to grab your face and you push away, determined to resist the vile touch. The man’s silver hair is pushed back and he leans his face to yours. Your eyes are wide and you urgently try to get free.
“It’s a shame.” Derek sneers. “The King always brings such beautiful women but never lets us have a taste.” His tongue flicks over his lips and you hold in a shriek.
Suddenly, a force whips both men off their feet and they’re on the ground before you can blink. You scramble away, free from the guards grasp and you feel an invisible hand caress your shoulder soothingly and you know who it is.
“What the fuck?!” The guard by the door says, holding his head as he gets back up. “The hell?!”
And then there’s a freezing temperature that sets in the room and the two guards' eyes go misty. Their bodies stand still, dropping their weapons as they slump like their ragdolls. You shuffle back until you hit the warm back of your demon.
“Shhh.” He whispers. You whip around to see him behind you, sparkling scarlet eyes. He beckons you over and you follow. His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Warmth fills you and you try to maintain your rapidly beating heart. “Calm down darling.” His nose brushes the shell of your ear as his hot breath flicks over your face.
You watch the guards turn away and march like robots as they lock the door once again. They don’t acknowledge you or the magical being behind you. The room then returns to its normal state and you turn to see that the demon’s eyes have gone back to the black it once was.
You’re shaken to say the least. The demon takes his hand off you but you reach for it, gripping onto it for dear life as you snuggle back into him. He chuckles but lets you stay as he props his chin onto your head.
“Thank you.” You mumble.
The demon picks you up and lays you down so you’re facing the ceiling. He lifts your dress and you splutter, confused. He only puts a finger to your lips as he examines your bare stomach. The pain of the kick is still there and he lets his hand press down on the spot and you hiss. He whispers sorry before rubbing your wound.
You let your eyes flutter shut and they snap open when he gives you a kiss on the lips. You melt into him, moving your lips against his. Your heart is racing and you wrap your thighs around his waist, trying to pick yourself up but his hand pushes you down.
“You’re injured.” He merely says and his kisses start to trail down, across your breasts down to your stomach where he makes sure to take extra care. You squirm as if his lips are burning iron and your skin is ice. His eyes stay locked with yours as he continues to travel down.
You pant as he kisses your core, licking through the fabric of your panties. You were already so wet and his tongue only made your body jolt with pleasure. You squeal as he pushes the flush fabric to the side to devour you. His fingers rest at your hips and you reach down to take his hand into yours. It’s as if sparks are flying everywhere and you whimper helplessly.
“You’re so pretty Y/n.” He repeats, deepening the movements of his tongue. Each flick has you moaning with pleasure. You squeeze his hand, pussy clenching at the overwhelming heat as it overtakes your body.
"I could say the same for you."
A low chuckle emits from his throat and he continues the blissful torture while you fall apart. You squirm as he prods your bud, eliciting moans out of your mouth. He’s so skill full with his tongue, every movement has you begging for more. Your hands tangle through his hair, tugging the strands as you whine.
“So so sooo good! Oh my god, feels so g-good.” Your words are incoherent, mixed in with moans and mewls as you babble on and on. “A-Ahh!”
“Satoru.” The name falls from his lips effortlessly and you barely register what he’s said until he repeats it again and then your foggy mind is cleared, realising what he’s done. “My name, say my name, f-fuckk.”
“B-But…”
“Say it angel, wanna hear it from your pretty mouth, beg me for me to let you cum.”
You gasp when he thrusts his tongue inside you, making you fall apart as he laps greedily at your cunt.
“S-Satoruuu!” You let out a strangled gasp when his fingers press against your clit. He draws tiny circles, eliciting the most delectable sounds from your body. “Satoru ‘s so good, feels amazing, Satoru Satoru Satoru.”
You chant his name like it’s the only thing you know how to do. All this time you had always secretly wanted to know who this demon was and now you did you couldn’t help but cling onto him desperately. His name was so pretty and you knew he would have you screaming it even louder soon enough.
Satoru groans at your words, the vibrations ricochet through your body and you squeak at the sensation. He slides his fingers through your soaking folds, engraved at the way his saliva coated you. There’s a mixture of spit and your arousal and Satoru can’t seem to get enough. He savours your sweet honeyed taste, watching as you spasm and thrash above him. He loves looking at you, seeing what reactions he could get out of you.
“You’re so pretty, so so beautiful, god I could die happily with your pussy on my face.” The dirty words only make you wetter as you whimper at the vibrations that surge through your body. “You taste so sweet angel, f-ffuck, want more of you.”
There’s an undeniable mess between your legs that has been created and when you glance down to see the white-haired demon drinking you up as if you were the only thing able to quench his thirst, you can’t help but moan at the lewd sight. The noises fill your ears, the messy slurping and blissed out whines as you grip his hair. Your hips lift up, jutting yourself against his face as you rock your hips back and forth, feeling yourself getting closer and closer.
“Gonna cum gonna cum! F-Fuck ‘toruuuu!”
The nickname has Satoru going feral as he groans at your words, diving down to suck faster. His tongue thrusts in and out of you, fingers rubbing your clit harsher. He inserts two fingers into your sopping cunt, plunging them in and out as the delicious sounds amplify. You’re so wet and your arousal runs down his fingers, and Satoru can only watch in wonder as he laps greedily. You’re convulsing around him, screaming his anime over and over again while he ravages your body. Never in your life have you felt such intense pleasure and Satoru doesn’t stop. His movements are constant, low groans and moans that send electricity shooting up your body.
“C’mon angel, cum f’me, let me see this nasty pussy spray all over my face, wanna drink you up so baddd.” His voice is close to a whine and he’s just as fucked out as you as he begs you to release all over him.
Your mind is foggy, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you thrash violently as your orgasm bursts. You let out a strangled gasp as you felt liquid gush everywhere and suddenly the feeling of Satoru’s fingers and mouth are all too overwhelming. The sensation is raised to a hundred times more and you find yourself writhing with the utmost pleasure. His fingers swipe at your core and you see his face covered with your juices and you heat up, embarrassed at what you had just done.
There’s a moment of silence before Satoru lets out a deep growl. His eyes darken and you feel your heart pick up while he stares at your spent pussy. You’re clenching around thin air and all the demon can do is watch as you heave breaths, forcing oxygen to fill your lungs as you try to calm down from your high.
“Give me another one.” He demands as he dives back down to make out with your pussy once more. His actions cause you to jolt, whining loudly at the sudden overstimulation. His breath is hot against your folds and you just melt at the way he consumes your cunt. “Want another one angel, g-god, want to taste you again and have you cover me in your cum, you’re s-so pretty wanna devour you so bad.”
Your noises die at your throat as you’re fucked stupid by his tongue. Your mouth is agape, tongue lolling out as you pant breathily. Satoru is relentless. He sucks and prods, urging you to release again. Tears leave your eyes and you feel yourself edge closer and closer. Your back naturally arches, pushing your hips forward as you feel your body get overtaken once again. Satoru whines against your cunt, lapping faster and faster until you’re gushing once more. He groans as you coat his face in a wet sheen. He’s slurping your juices messily, making sure none of it goes to waste.
“Y-You’re so cruel…” You manage to breathe out as he finally lifts his head from in between your legs. There’s a smug smirk on his face and you see the playful glint in his sapphire eyes as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh.
“What do you mean?” Satoru’s voice is faked to be innocent and you scowl at the tone. He merely giggles at your accusation, climbing up to give you a kiss and you moan into his mouth as you taste yourself through him. You feel yourself grow hot all over again as his hands wander to your tits, squeezing them gently.
“You k-know what I mean.”
“Hmm, don’t think I do.” He murmurs, his lips grazing your skin as he places soft kisses along your collarbone. Each touch sends shivers down your spine, and his gentle sucking leaves red blooming marks in his wake. His hands wander over your body, fingers tracing delicate patterns that ignite a warmth within you. He moves slowly, savouring each moment as if he’s memorising every inch of you. The intimacy of the moment makes your heart race, your breath hitching in your throat.
“Satoru.” You whisper, your voice barely audible. His name feels like a prayer on your lips, a plea for something more.
He pauses, his dark eyes meeting yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. “Yes?”
You swallow hard, trying to find the words. “I... I need you.”
A slow, teasing smile spreads across his face. “Oh, I know.” His voice is dripping with a mix of confidence and tenderness. “And I’m right here.”
With that, he captures your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. It’s a kiss that speaks of longing and desire. You melt into him, your bodies fitting together perfectly as if they were made for each other. His hands slide lower, fingers dancing along the curve of your waist and hips. You respond eagerly, your own hands roaming over his body, feeling the hard planes of muscle.
“Tell me what you need.” Satoru whispers against your lips, his breath warm and tantalising.
“You.” You breathe, your voice trembling with desire. “Just you.”
He shifts, guiding you gently to lie back, his body pressing down against yours in a way that makes you feel both protected and desired. His kisses trail lower, down your neck and across your shoulders, each one igniting a new wave of heat within you.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He mutters against your skin, his voice a husky whisper. “You’re so beautiful, fuck, all for me.”
Your thoughts only become more feral once he pushes into your plushy pussy. His cock stretches you out and you already feel fucked out from the sheer size. Satoru groans as he buries his head into the crook of your neck. His hot breath tickles your skin and you squirm, desperate for him to start moving. There’s nothing more addicting than him and you found yourself begging for more, constantly calling his name as he ploughs into your pussy.
“Such a wet cunt hngh - so tight and warm, fuck wanna have you all to myself angel. You’re mine, got it? All mine, gonna take you away from here and - and have you all to myself, nghh fuck Y/n-”
His cock bullies into your pussy, moulding your walls to fit him perfectly. He hits your cervix so beautifully that it has you writhing and arching. Each movement makes you tremble and shake and you cry out his name repeatedly. You watch as he fucks into you, turning you into a mushy lewd mess under him. His white hair falls into his eyes and you can’t help but think he’s so sexy as he moans. Your hands loop around his neck, pulling him closer towards you.
Satoru feels so good. He thrusts into you faster, cock splitting you open over and over again. Each stroke reaches a new deep part of your body that you didn’t even know existed. His balls smack against your ass, the sound tainting your ears. His fingers dig into your hips, gripping them hard as he pounds into your tight cunt.
“A-Angelll stop squeezing me s-so tight hah fuck!”
Satoru whines and you’re close to seeing stars as you unintentionally clench around his cock. He’s so alluring as he towers over you and strangely enough you feel heat blossom in your chest.
“Satoru-” You gasp when you feel him kiss your neck. His teeth scratches your flesh and you squirm in his grip. “Satoru Satoru s-stopp ‘m gonna cum, please please please, ‘toru too much hnghh ‘s too much!”
“C’mon angel, doing so good f’me, such a good girl angel, cum around my cock wanna feel you s-so bad.”
When you look at the demon looming over you you don’t recognise the blushing fucked out face that’s begging you to release all over him. He’s chanting your name as his cock pounds into you. You feel the sensation in your stomach tighten and you moan. The tip of Satoru’s cock hits your cervix and every time it does it has you whining and thrashing.
Your breathing picks up and you grind your hips against his. You feel him throbbing inside you, and somehow his cock grows even bigger causing you to moan louder and louder. You’re so wet and Satoru stares at the way you suck him in deliciously. He loves to see the way you take him in and he’s enamoured at the sheer feeling you provide.
“Satoru I’m gonna cu- oh!” You don’t get to finish your sentence before you’re convulsing around his cock, squeezing him from all that he’s worth. Your pussy releases all over him, your juices coating his body and it’s like falling into a warm endless abyss. His name’s a broken cry on your lips as you cum around his cock.
“Fuck fuck fuck angel g-god love your pussy s’much, I love you s-so much!”
And then Satoru’s tumbling over his release. He’s a moaning mess as spurts of cum flood your gummy walls. You feel so so full and you feel his seed drip down your thighs. His cock still sits snugly in your cunt as you pant breathily. Thick hot cum flows out your pussy as he slowly pulls out and you wince at the feeling.
Satoru cages you between his arms and you see the way his chest rises and falls rapidly and how his lips are tinted just the slightest hue of pink. He’s so pretty and it’s almost impossible not to fall for him. The both of you lie in silence for a while, basking in the aftermath.
“Do you mean it?”
You look over to Satoru and the demon’s already looking back at you. His eyes were such a piercing blue but the eyes that once scared you now provided comfort and you feel your heart race as you watch him.
“Mean what?”
“You know what Satoru.” The name is new on your tongue despite you chanting it just seconds ago. His name, the thing that no demon was allowed to give, is now yours. You like the way it rolls off your tongue with ease and when you observe him closer you see the way his ears have gone red and how his eyes dart everywhere.
“And what if I do, what would that mean?”
Satoru looks away and you watch as he tugs his shirt over his body. His hands reach up to his hair as he brushes it out of his eyes and you sigh. There’s fragile silence that envelops you both.
“It would mean everything.” You whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “It would mean that this...whatever we have...is real.” Satoru's hands still, his fingers tangled in his hair. He turns to face you, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt or insincerity.
“I don’t know when this happened.” You continued. “But somehow, for some reason, I’ve grown to be more attached to you. I can’t go a day without seeing your face and I certainly can’t go forever without meeting you again.”
Satoru’s eyes soften, and for the first time, you see a flicker of vulnerability in them. “Do you really mean that?”
“Of course I do.”
“So you also…you know…love me…” His voice is barely above a whisper and you giggle at his awkwardness.
“Maybe a tiny bit.”
The demon scoffs rolling his eyes as he shuffles further away from you. “Fine then, just go stomp all over my feelings, cruel human.” There’s a mixture of annoyance and teasing in his eyes and you can’t help but smile.
“I’m only teasing Satoru-” And he’s right in front of you as soon as you say his name. You gulp at the close proximity and you feel your heart beat rapidly. “Why’re so close?”
“Say it again, please.” And you do, you say his name and he asks for it to be said again and again. You watch as each time you do his smile widens and you gasp when he pulls you close to his chest. “It sounds so pretty coming out from your lips.”
You feel a lump forming in your throat as you recall the moment he whispered his name to you. “Why did you do it? Why did you give me your name?”
“Because it felt right.” His reply is instant and you lift your head to look at him. “You make me feel things I’ve never felt before, something weird and…human I guess. But the feeling feels right and I know that giving you my name is the right thing to do. Plus, it sounds so perfect coming from you.”
Your heart flutters at his words and there’s mischief in his grin as he places a kiss on your forehead. Your hand reaches for his and you feel the sparks of electricity that pass between the two of you as you intertwine your fingers. A small smile makes its way onto your face and Satoru knows he’ll do anything for you for the rest of eternity.
“So when are you going to teleport me out of here?”
“Wow Y/n.” Satoru huffs out a breath immediately releasing his hands from yours. “Just using me for my powers now, I see.” You let out a laugh as you see the small pout forming on his lips and you can’t help but think he’s cute. Your laughter’s cut short as his hands grab your face, pulling you into a kiss. You melt into his embrace, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt, pulling him even closer.
When he finally pulls away, you’re both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. His eyes are half-lidded, dark with desire, and a playful smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. “That’s payment, everytime I use my powers for you I require a kiss.”
You beam up at him, arms tugging him closer. “That’s a deal.”
Your lips meet his and the two of you become lost in each other. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you even closer, and you can feel the warmth of his body seeping into yours. His taste is intoxicating, a mix of something sweet and something entirely Satoru. His hands cup your face, thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks, and you feel like you’re floating. As you pull back you can’t help but smile as the kiss lingers on your lips.
“Where do you want to go?” Satoru asks.
“Anywhere, anywhere with you.”
Satoru grins as he kisses you again, short and sweet, before he tangles his hands with yours, hugging you close to his body. You close your eyes as you feel a rush of air brush past you. You grip onto Satoru tightly and you smile to yourself knowing that wherever he takes you, you’ll gladly follow because you’re his and he’s yours.
#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru x reader#satoru smut#satoru gojo#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru#jjk fic#smut#satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen#gojo headcanons#jjk headcanons
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Ramblings About Batfam Comics I Read This Week
So. I spent this week reading unhealthy amounts of batfam comics, and I have thoughts!
I have now read the entirety of the Red Robin solo comic, all of Batgirl Volume 3 (Stephanie Brown's batgirl run), Batman: the Road Home because I kinda had to for context, about half of the currently running Batgirls comic (Cass and Steph share the Batgirl role with Barbara as their mentor and also sometimes Batgirl), and The Dark Knight Returns by Frank Miller.
Why these? Simple, I wanted to read Batgirls, I wanted Red Robin Tim, and I wanted Carrie Kelley's existence. So, without further ado, here are my major thoughts!
You know me, my ramblings turn into long essays, so it all goes under a cut and subsections! As per usual, TL;DR at the bottom!
Multiple Comics:
1. Comics are funnier than we give them credit for. Even the edgiest ones I was reading left me cracking up every once in a while.
2. I have maintained this since I first started learning about the BatFam, and I will maintain it till I die---Batman has partners, not sidekicks. They don't follow his orders. He doesn't LET them do anything. He runs around doing damage control while a bunch of absolutely feral children fight crime. Batman doesn't make heroes. He finds heroes and makes sure they have access to a decent first aid kit, training, and some morals.
3. Stephanie Brown is a BAMF who does NOT get the love she deserves. Not only is she smart, determined, and awesome in a fight, she's got something that many batfam characters lack: kindness. Stephanie is sweet and adorkable and nice to everyone while still managing to be a chaotic, hypercompetent, sarcastic menace to society. I'll go into more details under the Batgirl v. 3 section, but I am now a massive Stephanie Brown stan, and I will not tolerate slander! Put some respect on the name of Stephanie f*cking Brown!
4. I am now both a shipper of TimSteph and CassSteph. With occasional HarperSteph. This is unsurprising. I have multiple characters I like together in most mediums, and I don't give a crap about canon, so I can ship whichever one I'm in the mood for! :)
5. In a similar vein, reading the comics very much stoked my already strong DickBabs fire. I love me so Birdflash, RobStar, and Babs/Kara, but I'm beginning to think DickBabs is my favorite combo.
6. Stephanie's OG spoiler costume is her best one, but she's at her best characterization as v. 3 Batgirl.
7. F*CK YOU NEW 52! Nobody likes you, and you ruin everything! You robbed me of my favorite incarnations of these characters! DEATH TO THE NEW 52! BURN, YOU DISGUSTING INSULT TO NARRATIVE CONSISTENCY!
8. Damian and Dick as Batman and Robin are honestly precious together. I only got bits and pieces viewed through Batgirl and Red Robin's eyes, but I really like them and their dynamic with both each other and everyone else. I think my favorite thing is definitely that they have named combo moves where they complete each other's quips. It's adorable.
9. Bruce is a well-meaning a**hole. He really does care about his family, but he needs to trust them more and get MUCH better at communicating.
10. Did you know everybody has a cool base outside of the Batcave? Damian and Dick are based in Wayne Tower, Tim has his Nest, Babs has the Clocktower, and Steph's Team Batgirl has the Firewall which is below Oracle's apartment.
Red Robin Solo Run
1. Tim is one cool BAMF. Man fought the whole Court of Spiders at once---who were killing League of Assasins members for fun BTW---and won and got the civilian bystander out safely. He blew up ALL of Ra's Al Ghul's bases, then fought off Ra's double threat of a hostile takeover on Wayne Enterprises and attempts to assasinate all of Batman's loved ones. He took down the evil, corruptive, hive-mind dark-net that supervillains use to communicate (yes this is a thing that exists). He successfully got evidence that Batman was alive when NOBODY else believed him and then was one of the first to actually know he was back and easily pass Bruce's tests (yes, Bruce tested people instead of telling them he was alive, because he is a well-meaning a**hole).
3. Tim is an edgy teenager. He does at least as much brooding as Batman, but with this sarcasm and dry wit behind everything that Batman doesn't really have. Tim has a consistent "Well f*ck my life, I guess," mentality that is FASCINATING to read, and is the source of a lot of his humor. He has a habit of reacting to really dramatic and serious situations with a deadpan "Welp. That ain't good. Guess I'll either figure it out or die trying."
2. Tim is apparently a chick-magnet. Just in Red Robin, he's got a thing going with Tam Fox and Lynx, Prudence Wood thinks he's sexy, he almost gets raped by Ra's Al Ghul's half-sister, and he and Steph still have feelings about each other that primarily consist of "why does my ex have to be so hot?" I am now incorporating this fact into ALL of my headcanons. It also makes for some fun drama, because all of these ladies (except maybe Steph) are way more into Red Robin than they are Tim Drake, even if they're aware of his identity. I find this objectively hilarious.
3. Tim's cowl is stupid. Apparently, the artist got the memo about halfway through the comic since tim has a pretty cool, uniquely shaped domino mask when he's in the Ünternet. This should be his mask in all appearances. Clearly unique to Red Robin, but not the stupid earless cowl.
4. Tim has SOME sort of neurodivergence going on because my man hyperfixates like nobody's business. He literally has a page where he rambles about how something'll catch his attention and he'll get sucked into it and give it his whole focus and be unable to stop thinking about it, to the detriment of his other commitments.
5. Tim somehow manages to have a thriving social life and no social life at all, and the comic agrees with me. He regularly teams up with the Teen Titans and other Gotham Weirdos TM. He's got a civilian ally/life companion in the form of Tam Fox. He has his guy in the chair, Money Spider a.k.a. Anarky a.k.a Lonnie Machin. He's got Prudence Wood and a couple of other folks with questionable morals on his payroll. And of course, he's got Bruce. He even tells Ra's at some point, "I'm not Batman. I have friends." But he also seems to do a really good job at not telling people things and thus being isolated anyway. He doesn't really doesn't share much of his personal stuff with anyone, especially not initially, so they can't really help him with stuff or provide him with the right companionship. This is perhaps most evident in his relationship with Tam Fox, which he effectively destroys by not telling her that her father Lucius isn't actually dead, and Tim just faked it for one of his plans. He didn't even forget, he just deemed not telling her the best course of action. Both he and Batman are concerned about this.
6. Tim has MASSIVE supervillain vibes. Like, Tim would make the BEST supervillain if he hadn't decided to be so heroic. Lemme. Lemme just give you a list.
Tim has a hit list. And those aren't my words. He calls it a hit list. It's mostly supervillains, and he specifically designs his schemes so that one arrest leads directly into the next. But it also has Robin as a contingency plan and a couple of other people who are decidely not bad guys.
He's a schemer. Bruce's whole test for him involves testing how he does at improvising because Tim has a penchant for creating carefully crafted plans like some sort of maniacal supervillain. And they work pretty much every time.
Tim's subconscious mind manifests as The Riddler. Lemme explain. While Tim is in the virtual reality, Ready-Player-One-esque dark net that the supervillains have set up, his attempt to puzzle out what's going on manifests as The Riddler giving him cryptic clues. The Riddler. THE RIDDLER! This is decidedly his own doing, not the Ünternet's.
Tim keeps his morals because he promised Batman, not because he actually has those morals himself. This sounds worse than it is. It's not like he actively wishes to break his moral code, he just comments multiple times in sticky situations that he would do X thing if it wouldn't be so disappointing to Batman and other people. On multiple occassions (see, blowing up the LoA bases), he actually does X thing because he thinks it's more important than approval.
Tim has ambitions to make Gotham the leader of the world. He specifically starts a number of international outreach programs for Wayne Enterprises with making Gotham the World Hub in mind. He has other altruistic reasons, but this is the one he's most focused on. This scheme also inspires Bruce to start Batman Inc., a.k.a. the thing Bruce has been doing since his return from his vacation in the time stream. Tim acknowledges that he's the inspiration and also that Bruce does not consciously know he was inspired by Tim.
He's manipulative and will work with all kinds of people if it serves his goals. This includes unpredictable people like Anarky, dangerous people like Man Bat, and morally questionable people like Lynx and Prudence Wood. His manipulation tactics mostly come in the form of cutting off other people's options until helping him is their best choice and withholding information until sharing it suits him. Batman in the making.
You see what I mean? Kid would make a GREAT criminal mastermind. Definitely got them villain vibes.
7. F*CK YOU NEW 52. The comic ended really abruptly on an ominous note with an unfinished plot because suddenly we had to do a whole reboot of the universe. Because the New 52 SUCKS!
Batgirl Volume 3
1. *ahem* STEPHANIE BROWN IS THE BEST CHARACTER! STEPH STANS UNITE! WE RIDE AT DAWN!
2. No, but seriously. I mentioned in the general section that Stephanie is a total BAMF who also has SO much heart! I think something really unique about her is her ability to be kind to and befriend literally anyone.
She becomes tentative friends with this absolute jerk girl Jordanna who's really mean to Steph because she's possesive of her friends, who all think Steph is cool. Steph doesn't judge, presses on, and manages to get Jordanna to at least accept her, if not be actively kind to her.
It's due to Steph's efforts that Wendy Harris a.k.a. Proxy a.k.a. Oracle in Training really feels accepted in her new hero role.
Steph looked at Damian in the height of his brat era and said, "You know what this kid needs? A bouncy house! Yeah, I'mma teach him how to have fun and be a kid by forcibly taking him to a bouncy castle!"
Batgirl is noted as. . .not as legal as Batman, but she still manages to make her own police force connection.
She's helpful and chill to Klarion the Witch Boy even though, as usual, all their problems in that issue are his fault.
She beats up a dude who's trying to blow up a train, and her ability and tenacity impress him so much that he becomes the Grey Ghost and tries to help her out. She thinks it's annoying and is worried about him (rightfully so, since he gets shot), but she does listen to him.
Steph will look at almost anyone with kindness and without judgement and has an astounding capability to befriend people because of this.
3. Steph is FREAKING HILARIOUS! Steph is probably the chattiest hero, especially when she's fighting bad guys, and it is both so effective and SO funny! She'll just start totally random conversations about WHATEVER while she's busy beating people up, and it makes me cackle every time. She also literally teaches people banter and gives them turns! It's amazing! Like, I'm not sure I'd call her quippy since she's not actually usually insulting people. She's just making casual, friendly conversation at really inappropriate times for it.
4. That's not the only way she's funny, either. Steph also has "inner monologue problems" where she'll say her thoughts out loud. This becomes a running gag to the point that Babs'll continually have to tell her she's using her "outside voice." It's funny and awkward every time! And then there's her habit of paraphrasing stuff that culminates when she tells Wendy the entire batfamily history in chibi doodles with absolutely zero respect. Never fear, Stephanie is here to make you laugh!
5. Steph is a GRADE A BAD-A**! My girl will challenge anyone, get in over her head, make decisions on the fly, and still win! Technically, this is a Batman Road Home Moment, but when Batman pulls his "I'm testing people instead of telling them I'm back" BS on Steph, she b*tch slaps him and then runs away while saying "I'm glad you're not dead." Bruce's only response is Bruce-speak for "I deerved that." When literally all of Gotham turns into mind controlled zombies that are after her, she outruns them by hijacking an equally mind-controlled ManBat, wrangling him until they crash into the airport, and then hitching a ride with Proxy in the T-Jet that they barely know how to fly. This works. Even when she's getting knocked around, Steph is kicking butt, taking names, and refusing to let her frankly awful lot in life get her down.
6. Steph is an improviser. My girl almost never has a plan. She thrives on the chaos. She's far more likely to disobey orders and go in guns blazing and figure it out on the fly than waste time trying to meticulously plan out something that'll probably go wrong anyway. Like, she knows the value of planning and does it every once in a while, but I feel like Steph would win almost any fight where both parties have 0 prep time simply because she's so much better at thinking on the fly and getting herself out of scrapes than anyone else.
7. Steph doesn't follow ANYONE'S orders because she is an independent adult, dammit! At the beginning of the issue, Cassandra Cain runs off to Hong Kong and hands off the Batgirl mantle to Steph. Literally everyone she comes across gives her crap for not being Cass, tells her to stop, and thinks that she shouldn't be doing that job. Everyone from random street level goons to Barbara and Dick. Steph doesn't listen and keeps going until she finally shows off enough determination that Babs gets her head out of her ass. Even after that, Steph'll happily disregard orders from Oracle, Batman, Red Robin, her mom, the cops and anyone else who tries to boss her around if she thinks it'll help. And the best part is, she's right almost every time. Steph has good judgement. She knows when she's right, and she won't let anyone tell her different.
8. I absolutely loved the dynamics between all the members of Team Batgirl. Babs taking Steph under her wing and helping her come into her own as Batgirl is amazing. One of the sweetest moments in the whole thing is when Babs gifts Steph the original Batgirl costume (she'd been using Cass's up until that point). In turn, Steph helps Babs open up and find joy and purpose in her life again, when she'd mostly been running on spite at that point. They also are so in sync with each other that it's hilarious. My favorite example is, in a situation that is getting progressively worse, Babs and Steph have the exact same inner monologue: "Crap. DOUBLE crap." It only gets better when Wendy's around, with Steph and Babs connecting to her issues each in their own way. It's beautiful and really helps Wendy grow as a person and heal her heart.
9. Steph needs to do more team ups with people. Yes, she's fantastic and compelling by herself, but she becomes downright marvelous when she's got someone to bounce off of, and her natural friendliness makes her a good pick for team ups. One of my favorite issues was definitely the one where she hung out with Kara and they beat up vampires together. It was adorable.
10. F*CK YOU NEW 52! WHY DID YOU TAKE THIS FROM ME?! WTF!
Batman: The Road Home
1. I only really read this one for context on what was going on in Batgirl and Red Robin, but I do have a couple thoughts.
2. Alfred and Co. have basically kidnapped Hush a.k.a. Thomas Elliot and are holding him hostage in a penthouse. They force him to do appearances as Bruce Wayne while Bruce is still missing, and he is soooooooo salty about this. This is objectively funny.
3. Vicki Vale is actually a really cool character who deserves better. A bit lacking in the common sense and self-preservation departments, but cool nonetheless. She's pushy and invasive and catty, but she is good at her job and I would be just as irritated as her if I had fallen as far from grace as her.
3. Bruce, you're an a**hole. You wanna tell people you're home instead of putting them through insane tests of skill and character while disguised as some random and possibly malevolent vigilante? They GRIEVED you! Some of them are probably STILL grieving! Give Dick a hug dammit!
4. Ra's, you're a creepy weirdo. Go back to brooding in your vampire box now please!
The Dark Knight Returns by Frank Miller
1. These books are REALLY FREAKING GOOD. I know, who woulda thought, seeing as how it's one of the most popular and talked about Batman comics ever. But seriously. You should read these. I was reluctant to do so, since a lot of people were like "Oh it's Frank Miller, he's edgy, and his Batman has all the tired edgy Batman tropes." I'm sorry, you don't see him using guns, you don't see him killing anyone, you don't see him being a terrible person. This Batman NEEDS a therapist. Desperately. But he's also still a good person. This is ACTUALLY cool edgy Batman, where his issues are used to create a more compelling narrative, not the "cool" edgy Batman that operates under the "grimdark is cool" principle.
2. I almost cried a couple times! This comic has an overwhelming melancholy feel that I just really enjoyed. Everything and everyone feels tired and sad. Everyone. The best part is that this comic is told primarily from Bruce's perspective and Bruce is SO empathetic and caring, that he feels not only his own melancholy, but everybody else's too, and it's so effective! I think the best example is when Two-Face, recently released from Arkham, goes full relapse and Batman is forced to tie him up and leave him for the cops. He looks at Harvey and just goes "That's a kindred spirit, and I feel for him."
3. The story is told interspersed with TV stations and news radio fighting and bickering and reporting. Nobody is quite sure what to make of the Batman situation, and almost all of them feel negatively about it. The only reporter who actually seems in support of Batman is Lana Lang, and she's also one of the few people who feels RATIONAL during the comic. Like, everybody is reacting very poorly and with panic and contempt towards Batman's return, and it really really isn't helpful. You get this feeling of "it's us against the world," and it really contributes to the vibes.
4. Bruce is an old man. He's technically only 55, but a lifetime of fighting crime, trying (and failing to quit), and becoming dependent on alcohol to keep away the nightmares and the call to dress up as The Rodent of Vengeance will seriously mess up your body. Every time he gets in a fight, he is extremely conscious of how slow he is, how much more he can feel each hit, how much of an advantage all of the youngsters he's fighting have on him. It's to the point that he literally has to plan around his old age and failing body.
5. Alfred is PEAK SASSY in here, and it's beautiful! I actually think this might have the best characterization of Alfred, like, ever. He loves Bruce. That's his kid. Not his master. His kid. He's not gonna leave him alone. But, he also has too much dedication to his role as "butler" to actually stop him from doing anything STUPID, so he resorts to just sassing the man RUTHLESSLY instead. And for all the sass he gives Bruce about being Batman, he's also just as deep into this weird lifestyle. The highlight is definitely Alfred telling Bruce after the first night out that if it's suicide he's after, Alfred has an old family recipe that will be just as slow and excruciating, but less illegal.
6. Commissioner Gordon does not, never has, and never will get paid enough for dealing with this. Commissioner Yindel has no idea what steaming pile of sh*t she's just stepped into, and Gordon tried to warn her. Gordon, even though he continues to not particularly approve, remains one of Batman's staunchest allies through the whole thing. It's actually really heartwarming to see their "brothers in arms" thing they've got going.
7. OHMIGOSH CARRIE KELLEY! That is one AMAZING Robin right there!
Do you know how she becomes Robin? She sees Gordon turn on the batsignal, and she's ✨inspired✨ She saves up two weeks of lunch money, buys a Robin costume, grabs a slingshot and some fireworks, and starts fighting criminals and discreetly following Batman around. Like, that's just some sheer tenacity right there! My girl has moxie! She has grit! She has heart! She's the perfect Robin!
Anytime I do stuff with Carrie Kelley, I will be including the fireworks. Her first act as Robin is to stick a firecracker in a mugger's back pocket. Seriously.
Her first thing she does with Batman is to follow him to a really dangerous fight, find him at the end, drag his unconscious, broken body back to the batmobile, splints his arm with her girl scout training, and get him back to Alfred so he doesn't DIE! Batman, already feeling extremely sad because he misses Dick, decides to train her and take her on.
Poor Carrie! Her parents are awful! Like, they don't remember they have a kid level awful! Being with Bruce might be child endangerment, and he might be a quiet stoic bastard who keeps threatening to fire her, but at least he acknowledges her existence!
Carrie, my darling, my dear, my sweet baby girl, I don't understand HALF the stuff that comes out of your mouth! You and your 80s slang. Sweet mercy.
8. I think this universe had a. . .um. . . Marvel Civil War thing. Like, the whole thing is that Superman works for the government, invisibly, instead of publicly. He has to follow their orders, and he doesn't like it, but it does mean he still gets to save people. Oliver/Green Arrow apparently didn't listen and is rotting in jail (Bruce has to bust him out in the last issue). It's implied to be, along with the death of Jason, the thing that made Batman quit. Now that he's back, the whole government is NOT HAPPY about it. They mostly just try to ignore him with "not my circus, not my monkeys," but, the president does sic Clark on him to try to talk him down. Clark predicts that this'll go badly, but tries anyway. His prediction is correct.
9. Poor Selina! You didn't deserve that. TBH, nobody except Joker deserves what happens to them in this book. It's all just really tragic and sad.
10. Bruce is a deeply unwell man in this comic. Like, he definitely seems at his most emotionally healthy and lucid while he's being Batman, but that kind of obsessive drive clearly isn't good for him, mentally or physically. He's kind of just, purposeless and slipping away before he takes up the cowl, and afterwards, he is so so sad and feels like he's succumbed to his worst impulses. It's a lose lose lose situation for him. Poor dude.
11. F*ck you Joker. 'Nuff said. Stay dead this time please.
12. Batman, you've emotionally adopted Carrie. I know you're actively doing child endangerment and stuff, but you care about this little girl. You can stop referring to her as "good soldier."
13. The shot of Batman on the horse makes me want to write a Wild West AU of Batman, because that was a vibe and a half!
14. Just go read this one, seriously, it's good.
TL;DR
I know I didn't put in a segment on Batgirls, but I wanna finish that one first! It'll probably get it's own post!
Basically, this post boils down to:
Batfam comics are really great. I like reading the comics. At least the outdated ones that I was reading.
Steph is the best, put some respect on her name.
Comic books are funny.
Comics are heartwarming.
Tim has supervillain vibes and sad wet cat vibes at the same time.
The Dark Knight Returns is really sad and really good.
F*CK THE NEW 52!
That's all I've got for you! I still gonna be stewing on these for DAYS, but this at least helped get it out of my system. Now go read some comic books!
#this got long#as per usual#One more time#fully uncensored for emphasis#FUCK THE NEW 52#batman#batman comics#comic books#comic book ramblings#comic book appreciation#batman comics appreciation post#ramblings#comic book essay#of sorts#giraffe's ice-cold take of the day: the New 52 Was a Bad Idea Actually#batgirl#red robin#stephanie brown#stephanie brown is the best#stephanie brown appreciation#tim drake#bruce wayne#carrie kelley#prudence wood#tam fox#damian wayne#dick grayson#barbara gordon#wendy harris#oracle
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Prompt 309
Danny huddled beneath the mass of warm scales, trying to avoid the rain that sputtered and hissed into steam whenever it touched the resting form of the older halfa. He choked on broken chirps, burying his head against his tail. Everything hurt, one of his paws and wings gone- what had the wanted them for-
He sniffled, not wanting to cry. At least- at least Jordan had managed to get them out, it could have been worse. Ancients, it could have been so much worse. Mom and Dad were… Ancients he didn’t want to even think about it-
A huff of smoke wafted over him, and he looked up into Dan’s crimson eye- the other gone to do who knows what with. It was time to go- they couldn’t stay in one place, they had to keep moving lest the GIW catch up. They didn’t have a choice, not now, not if they didn’t want to die- if they ever could now. It didn’t matter.
He stayed limp as he was picked up by the scruff, the rain soaking into his fur and scales (and still-healing injuries) as the larger dragon launched into the sky. They just had to keep moving, avoid any people, heroes included, and keep moving. Just keep moving.
#DCxDP#DPxDC#Prompts#Ghosts are Dragons#Dad Dan#He has both Ellie’s & Jazz’s cores#Dead Fenton Parents#Dead Vlad#Halfa Jazz#Halfas have to rebuild their physical form from scratch from inside their core so it’s more like an egg#Even their human forms have draconic aspects like pointed ears- fangs- claws- scales- horns- etc#Why yes Dan has a heavy coat/hoodie in human form he hides said aspects with whenever he’s swiping supplies#Also yes they do have medical torture marks/scars in both forms- the GIW had them for several months#I wonder who ends up finding them first: Heroes Villains or GIW…#Or even a well-meaning civilian who knows
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Love the idea here that the other rebels' problem with Saw is just that he blows shit up and not the whole "torturing prisoners and endangering civilians" thing
#the death stars were both military targets the only people killed in those explosions were military personnel#whereas saw and the partisans have demonstrated multiple times that they have zero regard for civilian life#they got a bunch of civilians at a festival killed on inusagi just to kill one imperial governor and put civilians in danger on jedha#he interrogates people with a telepathic squid monster that mind rapes you and leaves you insane#either that or he electrocutes you and threatens to shoot the queen egg that can save your nearly extinct species#and for every time he gets results there's also an instance of him accomplishing absolutely nothing#he bombs tarkin's base on eriadu and doesn't even succeed in killing him or any of the other officers#he just killed a bunch of easily-replaceable stormtroopers#and if tech really is dead then the only actually noteworthy person he got killed that day was someone that was technically on his side#even if he did kill tarkin or krennic or hemlock they can also be replaced cause everyone in the empire is expendable except palpatine#the empire has no shortage of other officers like them that could continue their work#saw just wants to hurt the empire right here right now and doesn't care about the consequences#he says sacrifice is required for the greater good which isn't wrong but doesn't care who makes those sacrifices for his cause#and no i'm not saying he's some evil monster with no redeeming qualities#we know his backstory we know why he is the way he is and i do think he's sympathetic#but i also think the whole mentality that he was Always Right Actually and the other rebels are hypocrites for no approving of his methods#is really fucking stupid#of course this all stems from tumblr logic that you can't have any characters who fit the ''well-intentioned extremist'' trope#cause if you have a character who has good intentions but goes about the wrong way#then according to tumblr that automatically means you're Demonizing Violent Resistance#even though the characters who disapprove of those extreme methods are in fact ALSO violently resisting#they're just not committing war crimes while they do it#i didn't think these tags were gonna be as long as they were but yeah#bad batch spoilers#in the tags#shut up tristan
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You know what’s interesting?
Dick didn’t set out to murder Zucco with the intent of being a killer. He viewed it as an unfortunate byproduct of his actions.
His real goal was to “purge the world of criminals” because “darkness needs light.”
Do you realize how unhinged that sounds? It means Robin wasn’t created from anger. It was created from the messed up psyche of a child who realized at 8 years old that the entire world needs something better than what it was given and so he went out and became it.
I cant properly explain how insane that is. It’s like putting the logic of the Joker inside the mind of child but turning it for good. Everything is falling into place now. That is why the Joker hates Dick-he is the one Robin the man couldn’t break. Literally COULDN’T because when he’s facing Dick, he’s facing the version of himself that would have existed if he had put himself to good. That was would break HIM.
Imagine spending the better part of your life doing your utmost worst to show Batman that people and the system are inherently evil only to have him fall head over cowl for a version of yourself to completely invalidate your reason for existing. How psychotic would you turn when you realize you have nothing to prove?
This also explains why Dick is so well adjusted and sociable in a way that Bruce and the others aren’t.
Bruce loses it when he loses his children, he thinks it’s a failure of his abilities and doubts his life’s work.
Jason loses it when he thinks he’s been replaced because his reason for being is having someone care for him.
Tim loses it when he comes to a dead-end. He feels helpless and lost when he doesn’t know the next move because his reason for being is being able to solve what’s wrong.
Damian loses it when he feels abandoned. He feels hurt and broken because he’s a child who wants to be loved.
The reason Dick was the perfect choice for Dark Crisis and to become the dawn of DCU is because his sole reason for being is to be the light.
That is why Bruce refused to destroy a planet when Superman asked him too. That is why Dick was the only person in the universe who could control the Darkness infecting him when even Deathstroke lost his mind to it. That is why the evil Justice League chose Dick of every one to kill-to make a point.
This is why he’s looked up to by major heroes such as Superman, Wonderwoman, the Titans, the children, the villains, and the civilians.
This is why Harvey Dent called Robin Dick “Batman’s secret weapon.”
Although anger was the baseline emotion, Dick doesn’t have anger issues because:
Robin wasn’t created for revenge. It was created with the intention of building a world so unrealistically good, that the level of the vision Richard Grayson was aiming for and set the standards for- is so terrifyingly inconceivable.
And that-is why he is a happy, feral, monster.
#robin was so much more than the result of an angry child#he set the standards so high he scared bruce for what he aiming#bruce didn’t enable him-he leashed him#dick grayson#nightwing#bruce wayne#batman#joker#tim drake#red robin#damian wayne#robin#jason todd#red hood#robin dick grayson#batfamily#dc universe
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Webs of Fate - Miguel O'Hara (Part II)
Sequel to Web of Secrets
Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader
words: 5.2K
warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut, time jumps, not really comic accurate (canon events), semi public piv, 18+
Part I Part II Part III Part IV
You are all back at the Spider-Verse Headquarters and the atmosphere is tense. Everyone is still high on adrenaline from the mission. You’re nursing a deep gash on your arm but your spirit is far from broken.
Miguel, however, seems to be on the verge of an explosion.
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT OUT THERE SPIDER SUN?” he bursts out, his voice echoing through the HQ.
You're taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“That reckless behavior! You could have been killed!” he roars. “Why didn’t you retreat when you were injured?!”
“Because there were lives at stake! I can handle myself, Miguel!” you shout back.
“You think this is a game?! You think being part of this team is just for kicks?” Miguel’s face is red, his voice strained.
“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare question my dedication!” you yell, your own anger now matching his.
The team is watching, shifting uncomfortably. Gwen looks at Jess, who shakes her head. The room is thick with tension.
Alright, if you are being honest with yourself, your recent actions in the field could definitely be classified as reckless. Perhaps even bordering on idiotic - not that you’d ever confess that in front of Miguel. You didn’t know where your mind went. Wait, no, scratch that. You knew precisely where your thoughts were, every mission since you discovered your pregnancy has been like this; your spider senses dulled, focus scattered to the wind, and reflexes that would’ve made a sloth proud.
And then there was this mission – your first one in quite a while alongside Miguel. He was bound to notice.
So you were fighting an Electro variant from an alternate universe, alongside Jess, Gwen, Ben and Miguel. The electric villain was throwing bolts of energy left and right and everyone was giving their all. You noticed a civilian trapped under some debris. You made a beeline for them, not thinking about anything else.
As you lifted the debris, an energy bolt flew straight for you. Usually, your Spider-Senses would have alerted you but not today. It hit you square in the back and sent you flying.
You hit a wall but ignored the pain as you scrambled back to your feet. A sharp ache spread across your arm but you gritted your teeth and kept fighting.
Miguel yelled, “What the hell are you doing?! Fall back!”
But you didn’t, you kept pushing forward.
He landed next to you, his eyes filled with anger and something else, maybe a hint of worry. He grabbed your waist to pull you back. But as another energy bolt was coming your way, you shoved him out of the path, taking the hit for the second time. So yeah, you could say that this mission wasn't exactly the shining star in your superhero career.
“ESTÚPIDA! So damn stupid. I won’t fucking watch someone throw their life away recklessly!” Miguel was now yelling loudly in oyur face for everyone in the HQ to hear.
“Oh, please. What’s it to you? Since when do you care, Miguel?!” you shout back, finally having enough of his insufferable attitude. “All this time, you’ve treated me like I’m dispensable. Like I don't matter! Well, guess what? I can fight, I can make decisions, and I don’t need you to approve them!”
“Don’t!” Miguel's voice cracks, and for a brief second, there’s a look of hurt on his face that surprises you. But his rage quickly replaces it. “I cannot do this anymore with you, ¿me entiendes?” he yells.
The room falls silent. Everyone’s gazes dart between you and Miguel. You can feel Gwen’s worried eyes on you, and Ben Riley. looks like he wants to intervene, but this moment is too charged.
You take a deep breath, tears welling up. “I can't do this anymore either,” you whisper.
“What?” Miguel's voice is barely audible.
“I can't keep fighting for a team where I’m not respected or trusted. Where you treat me constantly like a liability, like I am worth nothing to you,” you say, your voice steadier now.
“You don’t know what you are saying,” Miguel says, his tone slightly softening.
You turn around, your eyes welling up once again and open a portal to your universe. “I do, I quit” you say, your voice breaking.
You reach into your pocket and pull out your transdimensional gizmo, the small device that every Spider-person uses to travel across the multiverse. It's an intricate piece of technology, a blend of science and magic that fits in the palm of your hand.
You toss the device on the table in front of Miguel. It skids across the surface before coming to a stop right in front of him. He looks from the gizmo to you, his expression unreadable.
"Take it. We don’t need it anymore." You say defiantly, meeting his gaze.
Everyone knows the implication of you returning the gizmo. Without it, you're effectively stranded in your universe, unable to return to the society. This isn't a decision made lightly, it's a point of no return.
As you step through the portal, you glance back one last time. You see Miguel’s face, contorted in pain, but he doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak and he doesn't stop you.
Your heart is breaking, but you can’t stay here. Not when it’s this painful.
You turn away and head toward the portal room, with one hand lightly grazing your tummy. Gwen calls your name, but you don’t stop.
In the dim light of the room, the world seems to fade away as you lie there with Miguel on top of you. You are under him, breathless, your fingers running through his hair. His body pins you down in a tender, electrifying way, and you can feel the rhythm of his heart beating against yours.
His fangs graze the curve of your neck lightly, eliciting a shiver that runs through you. In response, he nuzzles into you, his breath warm against your skin.
"Ever think about what we're doing?" he asks in a whisper that vibrates against your neck.
"Constantly," you respond, your fingers tracing the curve of his broad shoulders, "but I don’t regret it, not a moment.”
He lifts his head, his red orbs searching yours. “Neither do I,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. His hand reaches up to trace the contour of your face.
"You know," you whisper, your hands continuing caressing his back, "I always wondered what it was like in your universe, in your time."
He shifts a little, propping himself up on one elbow as he looks down at you. His eyes, usually as unreadable, now seem to crack open; emotions swirl within them like stars.
"It was great, you know," his voice is gentle, each word enveloping you. "No, more than that – it was perfect," he corrects himself. His eyes never leave yours as he continues, "I had my Gabriella. Ah, you would have adored her." His voice softens to a mere whisper as if speaking her name too loudly might shatter the memory. "She was this incredible burst of life just like you. My own little sunshine. I didn’t know my heart could hold so much until she came into my life."
"The way she would throw her head back and laugh, it was like music. Her tiny hands – so soft and gentle. I remember how one of them always found mine, and the world felt... right." He continued, "I was never alone, never empty." He swallows hard, as if trying to keep the flood of emotions from washing over him.
You cup his cheek gently, smiling up at him. "You don't have to be alone, you know?"
He lets out a dry chuckle. “Sometimes it feels like there's no other option. It’s my fate."
“What scares you the most, Miguel?” you suddenly ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
He hesitates. “To lose myself… to forget what it means to care for someone,” he finally confesses.
“You won’t,” you assure him, your thumb stroking his cheek. “Not if you don’t let yourself.”
“¿y tú?” His voice is husky. “What’s your biggest fear?”
“To be forgotten,” you whisper.
He lowers himself and presses his forehead against yours. “Imposible,” he breathes. “You’re the sun. No one forgets the sun.” He pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer until the world outside disappears.
Suddenly, his wrist console beeps, yanking him back to the present. "O’Hara, are you okay?" Lyla's voice echoes in the room, breaking the silence. He blinks, his gaze focusing on the holographic screen displaying the mission details in front of him. "Yeah, Lyla," he responds, his voice a bit hoarse. "Just remembered something," he murmurs, and refocuses on the screen before him.
Amidst the sea of codes and numbers, Miguel finds himself struggling to focus. His thoughts still are consumed by you, and a heavy realization crashes down upon him like a tidal wave - he’s lost you forever.
He always knew that this was how it was meant to be. This was the only logical conclusion, the inevitable outcome that he had tried so hard to deny. He was aware of the potential repercussions, the cosmic imbalance that could be brought about by your intertwining fates.
Lyla had warned him multiple times, cautioned him against letting you close. But how could he have possibly resisted you? You, who shone brighter than the sun, who captured the hearts of everyone around with your aura and your kind soul. Your beauty was unparalleled, and your laughter had the power to fill a room, casting away shadows. He was a moth drawn to your flame, hopelessly captivated from the very first day he met you.
But you were never meant to be his story, not the path his life was meant to tread. You belonged to another world, another universe.
"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Lyla breaks the silence with her smooth, computerized voice. “No,” he interrupts her sharply, his voice a little too forceful.
But Lyla isn't easily deterred. "You know it was dangerous from the beginning, Miguel," Lyla continues. "Engaging with her like that...it could have caused irreparable damage to the multiverse."
"I know," he replies curtly.
Unyielding, Lyla continues, "This was never supposed to be a canon event. Her universe is not meant to mix with yours. It's fortunate that she left when she did. The damage could've been—"
“I KNOW!” Miguel suddenly erupts, his voice thundering through the room. He screams, his frustration boiling over, "¡Ya lo sé, Lyla! ¡Basta ya!" ("I already know, Lyla! Enough already!") With a loud grunt, he sweeps his arm across his desk, sending his keyboard, mug, and various other items crashing to the ground.
There is a deafening silence as Miguel breathes heavily, his chest heaving. His eyes are wide, his face is flushed and his fangs are bared. He never loses control, not like this.
Lyla, for once, remains silent.
3 months later…
Back in Nea Yorkey, Earth 586 , you are perched on the rooftop, absentmindedly rubbing your stomach. Time has passed since you left Nueva York and Miguel, but your feelings for him are still a tangled mess. Damn these pesky pregnancy hormones.
For once, it’s pretty calm out there. No honking horns in traffic jams or the usual buzz of people everywhere. It’s like the city hit the pause button and honestly, it’s kind of nice. The streetlights are like tiny fairy lights all over, and the tall buildings around you feel like they’re keeping you company.
The cool breeze brushes against your face, and you can't help but be lost in your thoughts. Thoughts of him. The relentless flood of emotions is almost too much to handle.
The flashback hits you hard, placing you right back in Miguel's office late one evening. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your backside planted firmly on his desk amidst strewn cables and metallic pieces and half-empty coffee mugs.
"Miguel, someone will catch us," you had warned, your breath hitching as he nipped at your skin, his hands deftly moving to undo your skintight suit. His hair was a little longer then, the ends tickling your forehead as he kissed you.
He had just chuckled, the sound deep and throaty, making your heart flutter. "They know better than to disturb me," he'd responded confidently, his lips trailing fiery kisses along your jawline.
Usually, Miguel was cautious about showing any sign of affection when others might be around, even if 'around' meant anywhere in the sprawling headquarters of the Spider Society. Yet, that night, he seemed to throw caution to the wind.
In his enclosed office, late into the evening, he let his guard down - a rarity. His lips were insistent against your skin, his touch setting you alight. You remember how the soft glow of the desk lamp had caught in his eyes, making them appear even more mesmerizing.
As he was holding your ass up steady and pounding into you, in a pace and fervor you never experienced before, you hear his communicator ring vibrating. You instinctively attempt to pull away, assuming he would answer the call, but he holds you tighter, his lips never leaving your skin.
His free hand pulls up a holographic screen,which flickered to life above the desk, revealing a slightly pixelated image of Jess. You panic for a moment, worried that she might see you in this intimate moment with Miguel, but he just shook his head slightly, reassuring you that she can't. He must have filtered the video feed on his end.
“Yes, Jess?” Miguel’s voice was steady, but his breath ghosted your neck in short spurts. He continued with his action, his thrusts a little slower but deep, nevertheless. You clamp your teeth down onto Miguel's shoulder in a desperate attempt to stifle the moans escaping your throat, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. You can barely contain yourself. Miguel's soft, amused chuckle vibrate through you as he wraps his arms around you protectively. Asshole.
“We’ve got an anomaly on Earth-4067, seems like a temporal rift,” Jess's voice came through the hologram.
“Have you tried the Q-particle stabilizer?” Miguel asks, his voice so casual it's almost disarming. His eyes meet yours, a playful glint in them.
“Yeah, but it didn’t work. The rift is actually growing,” Jess responds, the worry in her voice increasing. “What do you think we should do?”
“Alright, I want you to reconfigure the dimensional frequency to match the rift. Then patch the satellite feed through the Alchemax algorithm, reverse the temporal frequency by 4.7 hertz and use the resonance pulse to stabilize the rift,” Miguel articulates with authority as he continues to pick up his pace. You’re close to the edge, with the euphoria threatening to make you cry out. The sheer pleasure is now tinged with a faint edge of pain, and a wave of panic crashes over you. The thought of Jess possibly hearing you is nerve-wracking, and you’re now fighting to suppress your screams.
Your breathing becomes erratic as you whisper in a hoarse, needy voice, “Miguel, ‘m close."
"I know, mami. Come for me," he whispers back, his voice filled with a playful mischief that seems to defy the gravity of the situation. His hot breath against your ear sends shivers down your spine and the wave of pleasure crushes down on you.
“Miguel, are you sure about this? I mean, if something goes wrong…” Jess hesitates.
“I’m sure, Jess.” Thrust. “Do.” Another hard thrust. “it.” Miguel’s voice turns forceful.
“Okay, I trust you. But... are you alright? You sound kinda breathless,” Jess's suspicion returns.
“Oh, just...uh...running some diagnostics. It’s a bit stuffy in here,” Miguel replies with a smirk on his face, his fingers now gently brushing against your bare heated skin.
The rooftop is silent again, and you're still rubbing your belly, where the life you and Miguel created is growing. A bittersweet tear rolls down your cheek as you wish, not for the first time, that things could have been different.
You don’t know how long you are sitting there, taking in the city scene. But it was getting dark, when a familiar figure swings onto the rooftop. It's Gwen, carrying a small package in her hand. “Gwen? What brings you to Nea Yorkey?”
She walks up to you with a soft smile, "Do I need a reason to visit my favourite Spider-Ma? I've got something for you."
You raise an eyebrow as she hands you the package. As you unwrap it, you find a tiny Spider-Man hat, similar to the one Mayday usually wears. And to your surprise, there’s a tiny anarchy pin, attached to it.
"From the group," she says softly. She adds, pointing at the pin, "This bit here, that’s from Hobie." Of course it is.
You’re moved to tears as you hug the hat close. It's a simple gift, yet it means so much. You feel a lump in your throat, and Gwen steps forward, wrapping you in a warm, comforting hug.
"I...I miss all of you so much," you manage to whisper, your voice choked with emotion.
"We miss you too," Gwen replies, her voice equally soft.
You pull back, wiping your eyes. Gwen tries to lighten the mood, "So, any guesses on the gender? I bet it’s a boy."
You shrug, a small smile tugging at your lips, "I don't care what it's going to be. I just want them to be healthy."
Gwen grins, "Just remember, if it is a boy and he turns out to be a handful, you owe me a soda."
You both sit on the edge of the rooftop in a comfortable silence, legs swinging over the city, the conversation turns more serious.
"So," you venture, "how are things back at the Spider Society?"
Gwen’s expression turns contemplative. "It's been... strange since you left," she admits.
"Strange how?" you prod.
"Well, you know how Miguel was always a little on the, uh, grumpy side?" she says, making a grimace.
"You mean being a brooding fortress of doom and gloom?" you quip, and Gwen chuckles.
"Yeah, that. Well, he's gotten worse since you left. Like, way worse," Gwen's face turns somber as she continues. "He’s even more closed off than before. His temper’s shorter, he barely communicates, and he's been pushing everyone away. Miguel’s basically got everyone on lockdown. No unauthorized visits between universes. There’s this... I don’t know... this cloud hanging over him, you know?”
Your heart tightens as you take in her words. You had no idea that your departure had such an impact on him, or anyone for that matter.
“He doesn’t talk about it, but I think he misses you,” Gwen adds, looking directly into your eyes.
You are torn. Part of you wants to be angry at Miguel for how things went down, but another part aches for him.
Gwen nudges you. "Maybe he needs his sunshine back," she says with a gentle smile.
You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of Gwen’s words sinking in. “Don’t be silly. I was never his sunshine.”
4 months later…
Beneath the pale glow of hospital lights, pain and joy mingle in the delivery room. The grip you have on the sheets gets tighter as you push to usher your baby into the world. Your hair is sticking to your forehead, your breath comes in heaving gasps, exhaustion painting dark circles under your eyes.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, a portal flickers to life outside your window, and Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie emerge.
“Make way! The party has arrived!” Peter B. exclaims loudly.
“I don’t believe in parties.” Hobie says as he struts in, clad in his Spider suit with a leather jacket over it, pins and patches proudly displayed.
Gwen knocks at your door. The midwife, busy with you in the labor, answers.
“Uh, who are you?” the midwife asks, slightly agitated.
“We’re friends of hers,” Peter gestures towards you, “is it a good time?”
You hear their voices, but you cant muster up a response all you can do is scream and push.
“Blimey, I didn’t think it’d be like somethin’ outta Alien! You alright there, love?” Hobie’s eyes go wide, as he enters the room.
You can't help but laugh through the pain, "Oh, just peachy, thanks for asking."
Gwen steps forward, immediately grabbing your hand, her voice soothing, “Hey, you’re doing great. Is there anything we can do?”
“You could get Hobie out of here,” you jest, rolling your eyes, but your smile betrays your appreciation. Another loud scream follows.
“You got this, luv!” Hobie shouts. “Just imagine the bloody contractions as guitar riffs! You’re about to release the raddest album in history!”
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear the cries of your newborn baby.
“Congratulations, it's a boy!” the nurse announces, handing the baby to to you.
You can’t help but laugh. Gwen steps closer to the bed and takes a peek at the baby. Her eyes light up. “Told you, it’s a boy. He’s absolutely beautiful,” she whispers.
Hobie chimes in. “Alright, let’s get a proper look at the little bloke!” He leans in, and his face softens. "Oh, look at 'im!" Hobie exclaims in his thick British accent, peering at him. "Little blighter's a spitting image of 'is mum, ain't he?” No. You see it then, the dark eyes with a hint of red glow echo the intensity of his father's gaze, the dark chocolate hair and the sun kissed complexion. He looked undeniably just like Miguel. You cant help yourself but fall immediately in love with your and Miguel’s little boy.
As they prepare to leave, Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie each take turns holding Gabriel and whispering well-wishes to him.
“I can’t thank you guys enough for being here,” you say, wiping away a tear.
Peter’s mask is off and he’s beaming. "We couldn't miss this for the multiverse!"
Gwen follows suit, "Yeah! Plus, Hobie wouldn't let us hear the end of it if we didn’t."
“We’re family,” Peter says firmly. “Across universes and timelines. We’re always here for each other.”
With that, the trio put on their masks and with another whoosh, they're gone.
1 year later...
One year has passed like a whirlwind. You've established a balance in your life. By day, you are a doting mother, and your world revolves around a little ball of energy named Gabriel. His laugh is the music that fuels your day, and his tiny hands holding yours make everything seem alright.
At night, though, you become someone else. Clad in a white suit adorned with golden sun patterns, you swing through the skyscrapers of Nea Yorkey as the Sun Spider. Your heart swells with pride, knowing that you’re keeping the streets and your little boy safe.
Your neighbor, Melissa, sometimes babysits Gabriel. She is a cheerful, quirky 19-year-old neighbor who dreams of becoming an Instagram influencer. You trust her (her career choice not so much) and, most importantly, Gabriel adores her.
Up until today, you believed that he hadn't inherited any powers. However, today was the first time he climbed up a wall and spun a web, without the aid of a web-slinger. It was the first time you witnessed him display such powers, and naturally, you were impressed. However, you also realized that being a mom would now involve dealing with a whole new set of challenges and responsibilities, making everyday life more exhausting than before. But you are up for the challenge;
Meanwhile, in the Spider Society’s HQ in Nueva York, Lyla’s holographic screen blinks red as she detects an anomaly in Earth 586 - your universe. She reports it to Miguel, who is still his grumpy self, seemingly even more irritable with each day passing.
“There’s a presence in Earth 586 that does not belong,” Lyla reports in her emotionless tone.
Miguel, sitting at his desk, sighs deeply. “Assemble the team. Pavitr, Lego Spider-Man, and... let’s bring in the newbie, Miles.”
Minutes later, the trio is briefed about the anomaly – a two-year-old child. They are to extract the child and bring it back.
Back in your universe, you're facing off against a notorious villain – The Shocker, who is on a rampage downtown. His high-frequency shock waves shake the very foundations of the buildings around you.
“Not tonight, Shocker,” you quip as you dodge a blast. “I’ve got a bedtime story to read!”
You're agile and sharp, but you can’t wait to get back home to Gabriel.
In your apartment, Melissa is on the couch, engrossed in her phone. She doesn't notice Pavitr slyly slipping into Gabriel's room. He can’t help but feel conflicted, seeing the innocent child asleep.
“This is the target?” Pavitr speaks in a hushed tone into his communicator. His voice is laced with doubt.
“Yes, proceed,” responds Miguel firmly.
Pavitr gently picks up Gabriel, cradling him in his arms. “Sorry, little guy,” he whispers and slips out.
Outside, they gather near the portal. Miles, who is visibly excited to be on his first mission, can sense the tension among the group.
“That was… too easy,” Pavitr murmurs, still holding the sleeping child.
Through the swirling portal, they make their way back to Nueva York.
Meanwhile, you web up The Shocker and leave him hanging for the police.
Back in the Spider Society's HQ in Nueva York, the team stands in a specialized containment room with the toddler still peacefully sleeping nestled in a makeshift bed of spider-web, completely oblivious to the attention he's attracting. One by one, members of the Spider Society trickle into the room, drawn by curiosity and concern.
Miles, who is new to the Spider Society, looks at the child with confusion. "I don't get it, what's so dangerous about a kid?" he asks.
Pavitr looks conflicted, “We have to determine where he came from and why he is considered an anomaly.”
Lego Spider-Man remains silent, trying to analyze the situation. He finally speaks up. "We should be cautious. Just because it's a child doesn't mean it's not potentially hazardous to the multiverse."
Miguel enters the room, his face cold and emotionless. He glances at the sleeping child, then at his team. “It doesn’t matter what it is. Anomalies threaten the balance of the multiverse. Every anomaly has to be returned to its home universe. That’s the rule.” he says sternly.
"But he's not an anomaly, boss," Jess adds, gazing fondly at the child. "He's a little boy."
Miguel’s gaze is unwavering, ignoring Jess. “Lyla? Whats the status?”
Lyla's holographic form flickers into the room. "This entity possesses unknown powers," she declares, her voice ringing out with clinical detachment. "And according to my scans, it doesn't belong to any known universe. Therefore, it cannot be returned. It must be... eliminated."
Miles' eyes widen. “Wait, you mean…?” he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.
Pavitr steps forward, his fists clenched. “We can’t just... There must be another way.”
Back in your universe, you swing closer to your apartment, but your spider-sense starts are tingling with a ferocity you’ve never experienced before. Your heart races, and you quicken your pace. Bursting through the window, you find Melissa still sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone.
"Where is he? Where’s Gabriel?!" you shout, panic straining your voice.
Melissa's eyes go wide as she looks up from her phone. "What? He's in his room, sleeping," she says, but her voice falters when she sees the terror on your face.
You rush into Gabriel's room and find the crib empty. Your knees buckle, and a guttural scream escapes your lips. The room spins as you run back to the living room, grabbing Melissa by the shoulders.
"Did anyone come in? Did you see anything?!" you practically scream at her.
“I... I didn’t see anyone. I swear!” Melissa's voice shakes.
Your heart feels like it's tearing apart. You look around the room, desperate for any clue. You need to find your son, and something deep within you tells you that the Spider Society is where you need to go. You have to find a way to travel through the multiverse without a gizmo and the time is ticking. You have to find your son.
Back in the HQ in the midst of the tension-filled room, Gwen stands up, "Miguel, you can't be serious," she pleads, disbelief resonating in her voice. "We can't just... kill a baby.”
Miguel's eyes narrow. "Sometimes tough decisions have to be made for the greater good.”
Just then, little Gabriel wakes up. His big eyes wander curiously around the room, and he starts to make happy babbling sounds. Unfazed by his surroundings, he looks at each of the Spider-People with fascination.
As Peter B. is about to reach down to pick Gabriel up, the toddler crawls quickly over to Miguel. His little face lights up with the purest of smiles and he reaches his tiny arms towards Miguel as if trying to give him a hug.
The room seems to collectively hold its breath. Even Miguel seems taken aback.
Pavitr can't help it, “He seems to have taken a liking to you, boss.”
Gwen smiles, her eyes watering up. “See? Even this innocent soul can sense there’s still good in you.”
Tiny fingers grip at the fabric of Miguel's suit, baby Gabriel coos and giggles as he clambers up the towering figure. Planting tiny baby kisses on any part of Miguel he can reach, the toddler's joyous laughter rings in the silent room. "Vete, Vete." Miguel mutters. And despite Miguel's cold exterior, Gabriel is unphased, drawn to him as though an invisible bond exists between them.
Miguel looks frustrated and uncomfortable with the baby's affection. He awkwardly picks Gabriel up at arm’s length. But the little one is relentless, trying to cuddle into Miguel’s chest.
Annoyed, Miguel places Gabriel into a containment field made of energy beams, to keep him in place. The baby, though restrained, is still reaching out to Miguel with his tiny hands, cooing.
The room goes quiet again, and Gwen speaks, her voice soft.
“Look at him, Miguel. Please. You can’t tell me that this doesn’t affect you in any way.”
Miguel's face is tense, his jaw clenched. His eyes dart between Gwen and Gabriel. All eyes are directed towards Miguel. The room feels like it’s waiting for something to shatter.
“We do what needs to be done, no exceptions.”
Part III "Web of Shadow and Light"
a/n: Honestly, I can't begin to express how much your support and kind messages mean to me. I literally started crying when I saw how much love this story received. It means the world to me. Truly, thank you. I'd love to hear your thoughts, and if someone could give me a heads-up on whether the tag list functioned properly, that would be great. Also, apologies for any inconsistencies or logical errors regarding the multiverse or canon theory. I watched the movie but I'm not 100% sure of that's how it works.
Once again, I really do appreciate each and everyone of you. Please, don’t forget to take good care of yourselves and stay hydrated! ILYSM
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#miguel o hara#spider man x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel x you#miguel x reader#spiderman 2099#atsv miguel#across the spiderverse#atsv fic#atsv fanfiction#miguel o hara x reader#miguel ohara#miguel ohara imagine#oscar isaac fanfiction#oscar isaac#spider man#spiderman#comics#spiderman fanfiction#miguel ohara x you#spiderman 2099 x you#atsv
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DpxDC idea
The Fenton's work for the League of Assassins and that means Danny and Damien meet when they are younger. Damien accompanies his mom to the Fenton's to go over some of their work and he meets Danny and Jazz. They get along quite well despite the fact that it's a baby assassin and two kids who were raised in a small town.
Danny and Jazz think that they are a sub branch of the government that their parents are working for, not assassins. Danny and Damien are encouraged to keep in contact because of networking and connections reasons. It's not until Jazz goes to college in Gotham and Danny comes to visit her and starts hanging out with Damien that the entire family realizes Damien has had a friend the entire time that he is just never talked about. It gets even funnier when Damien mentions that technically Danny is a civilian and they start to wonder why the hell they were even allowed to stay in contact. I think it's funnier if Damien never mentions how they met so the family is just in constant confusion of how they even know each other. if Jasmine Mentions that younger Damian was such a sweetheart and they get Whiplash when he is very nice to Jazz. I think that younger Damien was still mean, Jazz just doesn't like that they're calling Damien a demon or something like that.
I also Imagine that when it's revealed to Danny and Jazz through means that their parents work for the League of Assassins they just think back and go it makes sense. Which just confuses the entire bat family. I think that it takes about a year or two years for Danny and Jazz to even mention the ghost Zone or the ghost research because the family was so focused on that they worked for the League of Assassins and then that they were civilians that they just don't think she'll look any deeper than the fact that they're not villains.
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Hi! Party Planner! Danny has struck again.
——
Danny clambered onto the top of the building, eyes fixed onto the dimming Gotham City sky line. Electric blue eyes froze in concentration as his targets grappled into view. he quickly scaled the last rungs of the fire escape ladder to stumble onto the roof. Danny waved his arms, and his targets, catching sight of him mere moments later, began swinging towards him. Danny adjusted his bag strap.
“Hello, concerned citizen, what do you need assistance with?”
Danny faltered. Who the fuck was wearing Batman’s cowl?
Robin (with a sword) scowled at Batman before turning his attention back to Danny.
“Uh. Right,” Danny muttered, giving ‘Batman’ the most obvious and glaring side eye he could. Regardless, if the little Robin did not protest this Batman’s presence… it was good enough for him. “I’m a party planner.”
Robin spoke before Batman could. “And what of it?”
“The… uh, League of Evil or something, wait,” Danny fumbled while opening the bag and pulling out some papers. “Ah, Legion of Doom. Them.”
Little Robin and fake-Batman perked up. Fake-Batman tensed visibly. Danny grumbled. “Anyways, they’re contacting me- by they, I mean Lex Luthor- to see if I could plan a party in… God, why are Gotham’s names for shit so depressing?”
“Get on with it.” Little Robin snapped. Danny was reminded of Dani instantly and let it slide.
“Ah, right, they want me to plan a party in “Slaughter Swamp” on the seventh of next month. So… keep an eye on that, okay?” Danny asked Robin.
“Are you supposed to be telling us this?” Fake-Batman asked.
Danny shrugged, running a hand through his hair, practiced fingers brushing aside that little white streak of hair he got from the portal.
Little Robin’s gaze snapped up to his hair.
“It’s fine. They haven’t had me sign an NDA yet.” And, well, the devil is in the details but Danny is the devil.
“I’ll handle it.” Fake-Batman promised. Danny threw him a skeptical look.
“Uh-huh. Right.” He turned back to sword Robin, who looked torn between the supposed slight towards Batman and pride at Danny’s apparent trust in his abilities. “Look, here’s the stuff I have on them- copied them- and good luck and all that.”
He handed the file and some data in a usb stick to Robin, dipping away as soon as he could. He had a party to plan, and matching Luthor’s purple-gold aesthetic to Cheeta’s yellow and black spotted material wasn’t going to get done by themselves.
——
“Even the civilians outside of Gotham could tell you’re not Batman.” Damian scoffed as he watched their party planner slip back into his apartment.
“Hey, I thought I did pretty well!”
“I do not claim to know what hallucinogens you’ve inhaled, but do not come near me. I don’t want your stupidity to catch everyone else unawares.”
“Hey!”
“Get it together, Kryptonian. We still have half the night to patrol.”
Damian swung off, mind whirling along side Kent’s little hamster wheels for a brain. He’ll have to inform father. And Timothy. Red Robin had a grudge to settle with Scarecrow and will aid in Damian’s plot to obtain sugar gliders in exchange for the information. Yes.
——
Clark, thinking his Batman acting was bad: :(
Danny, has never met Batman: this can’t be Batman, he’s being midwestern polite
——
Also, I just want to say that the Flash has Georgia State patrol energy.
#batman#danny phantom#Damian Wayne#clark Kent#tbh it could prolly be another kryptonian guy#but still#Bruce Wayne#dcxdp#dpxdc#Danny’s midwestern senses pinging
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III — GAMBARE, GAMBARE // In the world of crime and blood, Sukuna knows what's off limits. You certainly are one of those things and yet, he's unable to stop thinking of you.
contents: smut, little angst-ish in some places, mafia!au, unprotected sex, a hint of body worshipping, violence, mentions of death, subtle threats, reader discretion is advised — 3,2k words
a/n: third part, thank you so much for support guys! it means the world to me to see how INSANELY big is the tag list now. i literally love y'all~ ❤️ also, just as the first part got inspired by the absolutely menacing quote from our king, it only felt natural to include the famous gambare, gambare (do your best) into this one.
ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist
Sukuna prefers to think of himself as one of significant intelligence. Over the years, during which he ruled over the entire criminal milieu, he proved himself to stand atop of anyone who dared to even think of overturning his jurisdiction. All the exceptionally dumb bold ones that once wished to take the position of a boss from his hands had learned the hard way why troubles with Sukuna Ryomen are the least desirable fate of anyone who bears any volume of oil inside their brains.
It’s not only tactical or business intelligence that he’s priding himself with. It’s also the excessive knowledge about general rules of life that allowed him to comfortably push and pull the edges of what’s right and wrong, bending his own reality to his liking. Now it’s intuitive – he just knows where he can put more pressure and where it’s not worth his time. He knows what to bet his money on and what won’t realistically pay back. And most importantly, up until that point, Sukuna thought he can tell with his eyes closed which people he should consider crossing paths with, what men can be useful whilst he aims to reach his targets and which crowds he shouldn’t mess around with – for various reasons, most of which being just business and inconvenience. Same thing concerns women. Ryomen’s position works like a magnet and not a day passes by without girls, often way too young to even think of him, throwing themselves at him, led by fantasies of money and power veiled in the shades of love. If he wished, he could have a different toy every time the night falls and if he’d be just slightly less trained, he might have fallen for the temptation. But he didn’t.
Sukuna learned it from experience, not exactly his own, but of his pawns, that allowing random women in the proximity of their profession usually leads to catastrophes. Girls get persistent, they grow attached, they fall in love sooner than it’s even logical and then they threat, they blackmail; all of which eventually leads to their deaths because dealing with just barely adults that weaponize tears and screams is something he doesn’t allow in his circle. There were no exceptions, any man bearing similar power to Ryomen knows that there’s no place for romance in the world of death and bones, the one that’s stained in red and sorrow. If there happens to be love, it’s always of people from inside the criminal circle, sharing the same set of broken morals. Mafia should never tie itself romantically with civilians. Especially him, the leader, the menace that he is in the world of misdeed, murder and corruption, knew all too well why he should never, ever, even think of someone from outside of his tale as of anything more than one time plaything. That would be irresponsible, straight up naïve. It would be foolish. He knew all of that and not even once he felt any need to engage into any kind of relationship with someone that he deemed non-profitable to his general targets.
Then why the fuck he kept thinking of you? Why he kept seeing you after what was supposed to be a fun one-time fuck? Why did the taste of your lips and the sweet scent of your skin made him so completely addicted that he couldn’t focus on his own business without his mind wandering to the memory of you at least once an hour? He just liked your body, he told himself every time he thought of sending you a message. You were a good lay, it was purely physical. You did, after all, take his dick like you were born solely for this very purpose. He was meeting you only for sex and it was an accident that some of these meetings began with a dinner. All of the gifts he showered you with were just a form of payment for the service. Sukuna knew much better than to let his emotions take control of him.
“What’s on your mind?” Your quiet voice tore Ryomen out of the realm of his self-criticism. The tone that you spoked with was raspy, the testimony of the rough, throat-fucking he had used you for just few hours prior, and yet, it still somehow flowed with cottony softness, so characteristic to you.
“Nothing important,” he replied bluntly, lowering his gaze to where your face was buried into the broad muscle of his chest; your frame completely hidden in his own, much larger and stronger. It was another night you spent in his house, one of those that began with the reservation in one of Tokyo’s best restaurants that served traditional Japanese cuisine. You showed up in a dress made of dark olive silk, long enough to reach your high-heeled sandals and clinging to your shapes as if it was made to be worn over the divinity that was your body. The long, scandalous slit exposed one of your legs and the thin straps accentuated your shoulders and cleavage just perfectly. It was a dress that he himself bought and ordered to be delivered to you in an expensive box before that day. Now that very same gown was laying somewhere, discarded on the floor in the living room of his mansion.
“Sometimes I feel like you’re plotting my death,” you chuckled against his skin, the vibration of the act made him scoff because both him and you knew that the scenario you offered wasn’t exactly falling into the realm of fiction.
“If I were to kill you, I wouldn’t need to plot it. One bullet is all it would take,” he retorted with calm and despite any logic, instead of creating some distance, instead of running away you hummed at his statement and pressed your lips to the center of his chest.
You were way over fearing Sukuna and his world. The few months that you spend seeing him, you came to terms with the heavy weight of tragic fate that was now resting on your shoulders. It couldn’t end well, you shouldn’t tangle yourself with a man such as him, the path of your normal life should never come even close to the blood tainted one he was walking through. You should have never left the club with him and once you did, you should have run out his house the moment he gave you a chance. Instead of that, you stayed. That night, after the time of Ryomen’s pursue and the unfortunate event with Naoya and his gang, soon turned into two. Then just few more and then many more. The one-night stand evolved into continuous romance and though it was strewn with roses and intimacy, it came also with the realization that the more you see him, the less days you have left. There was no way for someone like you, an outsider, the mere civilian with no mafia bonds whatsoever, to be living a long life. Sukuna has enemies, there are people that want the power he holds and will eventually target you. That is, of course, if he doesn’t kill you himself over time – out of boredom or prevention. You knew a lot, he had told you more than he should.
But you loved him. You had seen him do some pretty dark things that would make most people’s eyes water, and in all honesty, it did the same thing to yours, but then, with you, Sukuna was always protective. You loved the way he always seemed to know just what you needed, the way he read you like an open book and knew just what to say or do to put you at ease. You loved the way he made you feel like the only woman in the world, how he made you feel beautiful, even on the days you felt like a total mess. He was a danger, a threat so deadly you shouldn’t play with it, he was a flame that you were bound to burn yourself on, but he was also the only person in the world you felt so safe around. Ever since you met, he had protected you. Even if his words were harsh and his own deeds rough, he never failed to envelop you in a bubble inside of which nothing and no one could hurt you.
“Oh, how much you’d miss me,” a certain sense of amusement hinted in the tone you used as the sheepish smile stretched your lips. Ryomen acted suddenly, grabbing the tiny thing that was your body and pressing your back to the mattress. His fingers wrapped around the frail of your neck; it wouldn’t take much of his strength to snap it and yet, you seemed rather comfortable with his grip secured around your airways. Over the time you managed to grow enough trust to know he won’t hurt you for no reason. Your lover was a man powerful enough, there was no need for seeding fear in you. You were also smart enough to differentiate the real danger from the playful acts. If Sukuna truly wanted you to be scared, you most definitely would be scared shitless.
“You think so?” His tone dropped an octave as he crawled above you; your bare figure now trapped underneath the weight of his presence. He got your legs between his initially, the heavy shaft of his dick rested over your lower belly as he shifted his hand from your throat down to cup your breasts. Your body seemed to never stop attract him, no matter how many times he touched and tasted it. You looked almost angelic in the dim light of that morning; the remnants of sleep still painted over your features and the only things that disturbed the innocence of your picture were the marks he had left on your plush, velvety skin. Red and angry spots that he sucked onto your flesh adorned the beauty of your frame, ultimately making you his own. “Aren’t you a little too confident?”
“I think I’m confident just enough,” you grinned playfully, smoothing over his hands, one staying on top of his palm on your breast and the other reaching up his arm to touch more of him. There was always a hunger lingering inside of you, you were never completely satiated and even if your body was utterly exhausted, you were always happy to take more. Sukuna made you feel ecstatic, like you were really his only one and though it was an illusion that you chose to believe in, it felt good to imagine yourself as his only care.
“And why would I miss you, huh? Aren’t you only a plaything for me?” The question he asked was meant to sound venomous but the sound of his voice betrayed the lighthearted intention. “Do you think I’ll blink twice when discarding you when I get bored of what you can give me?”
“I don’t think you’ll hesitate,” a chuckle once again shook your chest gently as you watched how Sukuna gently pulled your legs up from underneath him and brought one of your ankles to his face. The kisses he smeared along your shin were delicate, completely contrasting with the threatful impression that he was trying to make. He was worshipping you so openly, it made you blush every time. “But even though I know you wouldn’t think twice before killing me, I also think you’d miss me afterwards.”
Once the tender caresses finished, your calves landed on top of his shoulders as he leaned forward, squeezing a breathy moan out of you as he pushed his length into you to the very base of it, sliding on enough spit that it made the entrance easy. Ryomen learned your body through and through, he knew you can take it, he knew you’re always ready and eager to take him. Even if it’s early, even if it hurts. No matter when and where, if he told you to sit on his dick in the middle of a grocery store, you’d probably do just that and ask no questions. And yet, he knew where the boundaries are. Not once he pushed you when you were feeling bad. Not once he used you when you were not ready. The knowledge he now had about you came from observation.
“I think I would miss you,” he purred, his lips so close that they brushed against yours as he spoke. He’s got you in a mating press, filled to the brim with his bricked-up manhood and completely at his mercy. “You are addicting.”
“So keep me safe,” you whispered, cupping his face and chasing the kiss he was yet to give you. The request caught him slightly off guard. The pleading undertone made his heart clench; a feeling that he’s gone without for a decade at least and though he hated the odd sensation in his chest, he also couldn’t deny the warmth that spread throughout his body.
“You are safe with me,” the reassuring lie he followed with a heavy press onto your lips, sealing his words with his own tongue and silently promising you his protection. A vow that he wished to keep and yet, feared he won’t be able to. But now, it wasn’t important. Now you were here, in his bed, on his dick. Now there was just you and him.
Your dainty fingers found their place in his hair as he began thrusting into you. The new slick that combined with the remnants of the night made his movements easy as he dragged his hips back almost all the way out and then pushed back to the point of his pelvis clashing with the back of your thighs and your ass. The pace he set wasn’t fast. It wasn’t anything of what he’d most often pick, there was no violence intertwined into the melody of his hips. That morning it was sensual, it was deep and just rapid enough to stimulate every sweet spot inside of you. Stroke after stroke he was driving you crazy, he just barely started and already you felt yourself dripping. The filthy, wet sounds filled in the early aura and the muffled moans and whimpers accompanied them.
Sukuna allowed your legs to fall lower from where they were pressed against your chest and you hooked them around his hips. The newly earned access to his neck and shoulders you immediately used by allowing your hands to wander in the area, scratching his skin just to force a low purr from his throat. Every sound he made, you swallowed greedily as the kiss continued. Your tongues were dancing to the fiery rhythm of intimacy.
The coil in your stomach tightened all too quickly, you wished it to give you more time to enjoy what he was willing to give you but no matter how much you wanted your body to calm down, he made it absolutely impossible to achieve. Your veins were running with pure ecstasy and lust, the heated flurry that now was your brain was focused only on him, on the rhythm of his hips, on every sweet little lie that he whispered to you. Ryomen knew how to make you weak, he knew just how to angle his body to hit that one spot, the most sensitive one and you could feel him grinning against your lips. He knew you were close. The delicious squeezes that your cunt did on his girth were enough of a hint to notice and it gave him a sense of pride to be able to make you come undone so easily.
“Just few moments more,” he murmured and you nodded eagerly. Tears prickled in your eyes, gathering along your lash lines like crystals that he wished to kiss away, but was now too engulfed in the taste of your lips to part. His movements got quicker, just a little heavier as he began slamming into you with more force than at the beginning. Mornings tend to rid Sukuna from the ability to last – the ones that he spends with you in his arms, with your naked body pressed against his, unknowingly shifting against his dick for hours. That makes him unable to keep his composure for too long. Sometimes he feels like you strip him of all qualities that he once prided himself in, leaving him bare only to your eyes, with only the most primal needs exposed and he felt good with that kind of freedom.
“…don’t stop, oh god, ‘kuna~”, you were whimpering, arching your back underneath him and squeezing your little hands over his shoulders. “I can’t, I—”
“Oh, you can. Do your best,” Sukuna chuckled, teasing you with such impossible tasks. Your head fell back, your thighs were trembling against his sides and he could tell he’s losing you. You were far too deep in the realm of desire to hear his words; all of your world now came down to what you felt, to how you felt him and Sukuna loved your blissed out state. He loved the way he was the one to push you so far over the edge that you wouldn’t notice if the world was ending. But what he loved above that, was how you were gripping onto him; holding him tightly, pulling him closer as if you never wanted him to move away, as if he was everything you needed. And he was.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered against your throat, painting the skin over there with wet trails of kisses and new, red marks – the ones gentle enough to fade in a matter of hours. You moaned something incoherent. “Cum for me,” he allowed, not even sure if you’re registering his words. It had to be unconscious; the way your brain caught his voice between the blurry lines of everything else.
Your climax hit you like a rock; his name was slipping over your tongue continuously, so sweet and breathless that Sukuna was once again reassured that he never wants to hear anyone else calling him. Your walls were squeezing his throbbing length, he twitched and flexed inside you, groaning with satisfaction and before he allowed himself to come, he pushed himself up. As he sat on his heels, he pulled you with him; your body now on top of him and he used his hands to guide your hips up and down his dick. You wrapped yourself around him, finding a safe space for your face right where his neck connects with his muscular shoulder and all he needed to feel the bliss was the sensation of your teeth sinking into his skin.
White seed painted your insides as he shot it as deeply as he could reach with you on top of him. Few more moves, few more groans and you could feel him relax. His strong arms snaked around your waist as he shifted slightly to lean against the headboard, straightening his legs in front of him. You stayed pressed against his chest, catching your breath and feeling the tension leaving your body as the morning went by. And as Sukuna held you so close to his heart, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that it felt so right and that made the question bloom inside his brain. Was it still strictly physical? Was it ever only about sex?
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yandere hero x gn reader x yandere villain
"I love you."
"More than this country?"
"...I'm sorry."
You had expected this. Really. I mean, it would only be right for one person to die if it meant the lives of everyone else! Thus it would only make sense for a hero to sacrifice that one person, even if it was his lover. He couldn't be selfish, no. He had to place priority on everyone else. After all, that was the way of the hero.
Besides, there was a saying that a hero would sacrifice you for the rest of the world. You should've known better.
Yet you couldn't help but wish he would forget about his title of a hero just for a second.
You know how much being a hero was to him, you really do! Why else would you patiently wait for him to come home everyday to patch up his wounds? Why would you encourage him whenever he felt like a shitty hero? Why would you do what you did if you didn't understand? You loved him wholeheartedly, even if he didn't reciprocate it much.
However, it felt like you had made a mistake by choosing him as your lover. You should've left him when you had the chance. Caring more about the lives of civilians, he had stood you up on multiple occasions just for the sake of justice. You get it, you do! He's a hero, he's meant to help others. You can't be selfish and get mad at him when he's doing his job and not wasting time on a date with you! You tried to be accomodating. Tried to be understanding.
But he was still your lover.
He should've at least tried to make an effort. Not everything was meant to be about saving others when your relationship was on the verge of breaking. Yet you had never once gotten mad at him for his lack of attention and love, for you loved him with all your heart.
You tried to be delusional, that he would at least treasure you enough to not give you away to anyone else. If he didn't spend much time with you, so what? At least he wouldn't give you away! I mean, he did say that he would never allow anyone else to have you. He would at least honour that promise, right?
Wrong. He gave you up only after a minute of pondering. Oh... Your poor heart. Your poor, poor heart... You couldn't fathom what he had did, not in the slightest. Maybe it was a mistake? A slip of his tongue? You looked at him for comfort only to realise that he had meant what he had said. His guilty and crestfallen look was more than enough to tell you he had truly meant it. That he meant to gave you away.
You were absolutely heartbroken, devastated at the revelation. Clawing at his chest, screaming at him to take back his words, yet to no avail as he avoided your gaze. You felt more than betrayed by him.
You tried to understand his thoughts, his point of view. It was a rational decision. The world known villain had just threatened to blow up the country if he didn't hand his lover over. It was the right decision. But you just wished he had done anything to fight against the villain's demand. He was a hero after all and you were a civilian! He was supposed to protect you!
So why did he give you up so easily?
That, you could not understand. So all you could do was beg for him to reconsider. To hear him tell you that it was just a joke and that he would beat up the villain. Just like what he used to do. But nothing came from him. Only the quiet silence of someone who had already made up their mind.
"Well I guess I'll be taking you now darling~"
The villain suddenly chimed in as he tried to pull you away from the hero. His cold fingers gently tracing your bare shoulders sent shivers up your spine. You shook your head, still clinging onto your beloved hero's shirt as you wept and screamed at him to do something.
But nothing came.
"Please-?! Don't give me away! Don't you love me?!"
"I do... I really do love you."
"Then why are you giving me away so easily?! Is... Is this country more important than me?!"
No response.
You wept harder as you hit his chest, screaming at him to try and protect you against the villain who was amused at the sight before him. He retracted his cold hands from your shoulders, instead putting them in his pants pockets as he hummed softly.
"I'm sorry."
Your breath hitched as your lover softly pried your hands off his shirt. His shaky hands gently holding yours as his lower lip trembled. You could only stare in shock and hurt as he slowly handed you over, looking up at the villain in shame.
You wanted to laugh, you really did. But all you could muster was soft weeping as the villain gently cradled you in his embrace. You wanted to push him away, to curse at him and run back to the arms of your lover. But was it all worth it? The hero had already showed no intention of resisting the villain's demand.
You stared up at the villain with teary eyes, flinching at his touch as he stroked your face tenderly. Yet you couldn't help but lean into his oddly comforting touch that soothed you.
"What a shitty lover he is. Hah! Don't worry baby, I'll never do something like that to you~"
He cooed, looking at you like you were the only thing in the world. This... You had never seen such a look from the hero. Even when he claimed to love you, that you were the only person in his heart.
Your heart skipped a beat, face turning slightly red as the villain them scooped you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style.
This was nice... It made you feel wanted, feel loved. Something that the hero you loved could never give you. Maybe you should just give in already. At least you knew he would never give you up.
For there was a saying that a villain would sacrifice the world for you.
part 2
#tw yandere#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere drabbles#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#suiana rambling#suiana brainrotting#yandere hero#yandere villain
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A foolish endeavor
Pairing; Yandere Miguel O’hara x reader
Synopsis; You manage to snag Miguel’s gizmo and escape to another universe. How long will it take before he, or the spider society, find you?
Word count; 2.8k
Reader description; Female/GN
TW; kidnapping, probably terrible spanish (i did use sources Spanish-speaking users suggested), non-con touching, yandere themes, dark writing.
Notes; {if i mistranslated any of the spanish please do contact me in my DMs. I wanted this fic to be better but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Did not proofread.}
Midnight coated New York in a dark blue hue. Most nights the city lights illuminate the darkness, providing the ability to see. However, the motel you find yourself ambling to is the more isolated part of the city.
Rain poured down heavily, producing cacophonous echoes of raindrops slamming against the concrete. Clad in a drenched hoodie and damp black yoga pants, you scurry to the other side of the street just in time to avoid being hit by the passing truck.
Cigarette smoke and frigid rain overwhelm your senses, mainly due to the cigarette buds scattered on the motel parking lot.
The motel is okay looking. By no means does it look nice, but it isn’t a hard no.
“Guess this is where I’ll sleep tonight,” you mumble to yourself. You take a brief glance at your surroundings. Night overcame the sky, giving the atmosphere a dark hue but the lights gave you a clear standpoint.
Numerous lights hummed irritatingly, not even a minute passed and you found yourself obtaining a headache. You navigate the main office, which is on the left side of the horseshoe-shaped building, and a blue neon sign points in the direction of the office. You started sauntering over, putting pep in your step when the cold rain declined heavier than it did the last five minutes.
Six months ago, you wouldn’t be having this problem. At least that’s what you believed. You could’ve been at your apartment, catching up on a show you’ve failed to complete thanks to your busy work schedule.
Unfortunately for you, doing a task as simple as watching your television, in your home, was truly impossible. Why? Because the earth you roam isn’t yours, to begin with. Your apartment isn’t yours. The job you work isn’t yours. You aren’t certain you even exist in this universe.
You can’t find the strength to complain. Honestly, you’re delighted to be away from the man who stole you away from society.
Miguel O’Hara.
Otherwise known as Spiderman 2099. You know, the superhero.
It must be confusing to hear that a superhero kidnaped a poor civilian. Superheros don’t normally commit unforgivable acts. Regardless, Miguel didn't care. Miguel is aware he is different from other heroes given his beliefs. Abducting you was just one of the many wrongs Miguel fulfilled.
You just wished you knew his motives at the beginning. If you did, you wouldn't have to search for sanctuary. You wouldn't have to lie low in a different universe.
Before Miguel, you lived a decent life that included a decent job. It was a Tuesday afternoon with sunny weather and clear skies. Your friends invited you to a picnic at the park and, for once having a clear schedule you agreed. You recall the sun beaming down on you, overheating your body to the point shade was a necessity. You moved from the picnic blanket to a nearby bent tree. One moment you're enjoying the shade, the next you're falling. Then something transpired. You jerked in the air, something white clinging to the front of your shirt. You felt your body floating in the air, legs thrashing in fear when your body conceded it was in mid-air.
You must have fainted because you have no recollection of what transpired next. What you do remember was watching through bleary eyes as four strangers hovered over you clearly disputing. Currently, you know them by Jessica Drew, Peter B. Parker, the iron spider, And Miguel O’Hara.
The accountability for your well-being somehow landed in the hands of Miguel. In the beginning, Miguel had such a short patience for you, not that he didn't possess an attitude with anyone else, he just happened to have a really short fuse with you.
His explosive temper with you was undeserving. You hardly gave him any reason to blow up. Your presence alone just pissed him off, at least it appeared so.
You avoided him as much as possible; Departing a room when he entered. Ensuring any errands were accomplished before he arrived home, so you didn't have to leave your room to aggravate him.
Then he began to seek you out; popping up wherever you were in his apartment. Alone watching television on the couch? Not anymore. Miguel joined you on the other side silently watching as well. Sitting silently in the dining room eating lunch? Miguel enters with a bowl of cereal, starting a conversation about the day’s news. Enjoy video games and decide to play by yourself? Miguel grabs a controller and questions the rules and certain controls.
For someone who was as snappy at you as a feral dog, he sure did like to invade your solitude.
By the second month of staying at Miguel’s, he found solace in your presence. He became relaxed. Nice even. And then by the fourth month, you became friends. You never visualized being anything other than friends, but unbeknownst to you, Miguel did.
When you first caught the news of Peter figuring out what universe you belonged to, you were ecstatic. After all, the mystery of your universe's number had been the sole reason for crashing with Miguel and not immediately returning home.
You turned to Miguel, asking when was the appropriate time to drop you off. To your astonishment, Miguel’s brows furrowed, and his lips morphed into a grimace, “you will not be returning.” he affirmed.
Miguel shocked not only you, but everyone witnessing the scene. A gauche silence conquered the atmosphere.
You and Miguel stared at each other for a beat, then you voiced your perplexity. “What do you mean “I will not be returning?” Miguel, I need to go home.” you took a step closer to Miguel.
Miguel gazed at you with an uninterested stare. “What I say goes, (Name). And I say you're staying here.” he spun around, returning to whatever he had been working on before. “We all have a busy schedule and dropping you off will only alter it.”
“It’s not worth it,” he said like he was ending the conversation.
“Okay, then Peter can take me home when he needs to drop off Mayday.” you insisted, looking over at Peter to see if he’d be alright with your plan.
No expression was needed for you to catch on to the attitude Miguel began to gain. “(Name), I won’t tell you twice. The answer is no. Now, Peter take her back to my apartment. We’ll speak about the matter later, at the moment there are more important issues happening.”
You found it laughable. To think the minute you stepped into the man's sight he wanted you gone, but now Miguel was fighting you to stay with him. Ironic, isn’t it?
That night you and Miguel, the very moment he came inside his apartment, quarreled for an hour in a half. Your argument being you did not belong to him and could do whatever you pleased. Miguel’s argument was the insignificance of the matter to him.
You detected Miguel’s temper was starting to get out of hand. The way his fists began to clench, the way his brows creased, and the frown deepened after every sentence he uttered. You’ve seen his strength. His fierceness. And you’d rather leave than have any of his tantrums directed at you. Doing what any rational person would do, you attempted to leave the room. You advised him to de-stress before speaking to you again.
Miguel was having none of it. Not even a second passed before you were yanked back by the forearm.
You’re face-to-face with Miguel. Miguel towered over you, looking down at you with his signature red piercing stare. He bends down, momentarily staring at you until he finally speaks. “I can't allow you to leave.” The way he talks is low and if the room weren't already quiet, you wouldn’t have heard him. “I love you,” he confessed, voice cracking, closing his eyes as if it pained him to say it. He opened his eyes again. “And I won't allow myself to lose any other person I care for.”
Pulling twenty dollars out of the torn-up wallet you found on the side of the road, you slide it forward on the mahogany brown table. The fatigued receptionist glances at the money, then gazes at you with an irked expression.
“This isn’t enough.” She states matter-of-factly. She slides the twenty back to you.
You purse your lips, staring down at the cash. Twenty dollars is all you had. What were you to do now? The next nearest motel could be miles away; it was a miracle you made it to this.
Your eyes flicker back to her. You take two fingers pushing it back to her, giving her your best puppy eyes. “Please! I don't have anywhere else to go tonight. If I can’t stay here I’ll have to sleep on the streets.”
You were lying. You would’ve taken off by dawn, needing to be on the move after getting rested.
Her hardened expression softens. She takes a deep breath, eyes studying the money. Shaking her head, she takes the cash. “One night only, alright?”
You propose to her a smile, nodding with gratitude. She allotted you a key. A small golden-greenish key, with the number five engraved on the head. Tonight you’d sleep on the grounded floor of the motel.
The inside was decently prepared, having a dingy tone that gave off a haunted vibe. You hum in displeasure. Two queen-sized mattresses are positioned on the right side of the wall. They appeared stiff, and the blankets laying upon them looked thinner than a sheet of paper.
Sighing, you softly booted the door shut. Flopping down on the nearest bed, you groan at the sensation of the rough mattress.
When tomorrow comes you’d have to find a fresh location. Miguel could continually find your locale, thanks to not only Lyla but the whole Spider society. Perhaps you postponed his search this time. His watch or gizmo- whatever the hell it was- rests on your wrist.
Shifting your head to the side, pulling your hand out of your pocket, you glance at the gizmo.
Tightly clutched in Miguel’s hold, you stare quietly at the ceiling. You debate acting on your next actions. There were times Miguel slept lightly, aroused by creaks in the floorboard. Other times when the sound of glass shattering did not bother him even a little.
Glancing down at the arm wrapped securely around your midriff, you endeavor to gradually lift his arm up. He unconsciously retaliates, arms consolidating, resulting in a small gasp slipping from your lips. You’re quick to rub his arm, to offer him comfort, and to calm him.
It works. Miguel grumbles, his grasp faulting. You carefully move his arm aside, then unhurriedly get up from the bed.
Before leaving the room you observe Miguel. Miguel sleeps soundly, an angry expression inscribed on his face. But he is asleep, so you take your chance while you are able.
Tiptoeing into the kitchen, you immediately spot the gizmo on the marble counter. Compared to the technology you have at home, it was top-notched, a huge improvement. Of course, he lived in the year 2099. Obviously, there would be a difference in technology.
You grabbed the gizmo, examining the complexity. From monitoring the spider people using them, you know it’ll take you wherever universe you request. Great. However, you weren’t a spider person. If you teleported in the middle of the air, you couldn't grapple on the closest object with a web. Or claw your way down a building
Fuck it.
If dying meant escaping him, then so be it.
You didn’t really mean that. Every time you went to teleport to a different universe, you cringed retreating your hand.
“Jesus! Alright, I'm doing this!” you softly berated yourself. Bracing for the impact of the possible fall you might face, you shut your eyes tight and twisted the gizmo. “Please be on the ground, Please be on the ground, Please be on the ground!” you cried.
How long would it take them to find you? How far could you get?
God, being on the run was stressful.
Your eyes flutter closed, plush pillows luling your tired mind. ‘I should get some sleep’ you thought. Warmth spread throughout your numbing body, as you finally permitted yourself to sleep.
When you awake gasping for air, almost as if you’d been suffocating. Instantly you arise, a hand rushing to your chest confirming it still thumped with a beating heart. Your skin is sticky with cold sweat, making your clothes uncomfortably cling to your body. “What the fuck?” you barely uttered, mouth arid.
Suddenly you had a gut feeling to check the window. You stand, groggily walking toward the large window adjacent to the front door. Pinching the hem of the curtain, you haul it aside.
The night is still pristine, the stars glowing in the dark sky. Nothing seems out of place. And yet you continue to have that gut feeling. Look outside, there’s something outside. Your eyes move to the parking lot.
You see it.
Blue and red. Something blue and red is making its way toward the motel. Squinting, you can make out what it is. Miguel. It's Miguel!
“Oh, shit!” you expressed, dropping the curtain. Wasting no time you locked the bottom and top locks. You veered around, frantically searching for a place to hide. You are no fool. Locking the door was simply a distraction; Miguel would tear the door off its hinges in a second.
Hiding underneath the bed is a childish strategy. That and hiding underneath the covers. Still, you drop to your knees, squeezing underneath the bed, using the blankets to cover any spaces revealing you. Pressing the palm of your hand against both your mouth and nose, you listen closely to everything around you.
At first, all you hear is the air conditioning blowing cool air, and the people next door’s baby weeping. Then you hear it. The doorknob oscillation. Your eyes widen, fear causing your breath to hitch. When the door refuses to open, the person behind the door commences kicking in the door. One kick achieves them access to the room. The door slams against the wall, shaking the ground, sending a vibration under you.
“¿Qué carajo?” you know that voice anywhere. It’s Miguel speaking in his native language. A habit Miguel has when he’s angered or stressed. “¿Dónde está ella?” Miguel snaps, striding into the room with anger-powered steps.
You can see through the tiny slit in the blankets, Miguel turning to the table where you placed the gizmo. Miguel picks up the gizmo, putting it back on his wrist.
He shifts his concentration to finding you. He calls out your name, malice dripping from the way he shouts it. He disappears from sight, presumingly moving on to the bathroom. Many things are heard being tossed around. Miguel probably was looking for evidence of you staying here, apart from the gizmo.
You gather the courage to, oh, so carefully stretch your leg out, then proceed to quietly shuffle from under the bed. You waste no time, rushing out the door, feet bare without socks or shoes. The gravel burns the soles of your feet, scraping and imprinting on the skin.
You practically succeeded in leaving the lot until you caught a glimpse of what stalked behind you. On all fours, Miguel sprinted at you, claws scuffing the concrete, like a predator running after its prey.
“Holy shit! What the actual fuck!” you panic aloud, taking your eye off what was in front of you, your mind solely focusing on the man hunting you. Big mistake on your part. A concrete parking block is in your way, but you don’t see it. You jolt forward, tripping over the block, your other foot catching you before you hit the road.
Just when you thought you still had the chance of running away, you’re sorely mistaken. Miguel pounces on you, and the clash of your bodies colliding results in Miguel tumbling down the road, you secure in his arms.
The tumble ends; you’re struggling not to vomit, head resting on Miguel’s firm chest. The world spins. It’s easy to forget your position when the urge to throw up is fresh.
Miguel holds your head, pressing a myriad of kisses on every part of the skin visible, muttering with his eyes closed. “Gracias a Dios que estás bien.” He sounds so frantic, reciting those same words, his tongue stumbling over the utterances.
His eyelids raise, uncovering his red orbs. He presses his forehead against yours, staring deeply into your eyes. It’s a domestic stunt that makes your stomach churn. “Debería estar furioso contigo, pero no lo estoy.” he huffs, then continues, “I’m happy you’re alright. I don’t know what I'd do if I lost you, mi alma.”
Taking your hand, he places a soft kiss on the back. “Had an anomaly harmed you, I would have ripped their fucking throat out!”
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Translations
- “¿Qué carajo?”/ what the fuck?
- “¿Dónde está ella?”/ where is she?
- “Debería estar furioso contigo, pero no lo estoy.”/ I should be furious with you, but I'm not.
- “Gracias a Dios que estás bien.”/ thank god you’re okay.
- mi alma/ my soul
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara#miguel o’hara#yandere spiderman#yandere miguel o’hara#yandere spiderverse#spiderman into the spiderverse#spiderman x reader#spiderman atsv#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse x reader#miguel o’hara x you#oscar issac characters#yandere oscar issac#spiderman#spiderman 2099#oscar issac x reader#oscar issac hernandez estrada#yandere fanfiction#dark writing
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‘Damian.’ You called over your shoulder, eyes firmly locked on the thing that currently held your undivided attention.
‘Yeah?’ You heard him call back from another room.
‘Why the fuck is there a cow in your kitchen?’ Damian’s brow was immediately raised upon hearing this. Cow? There’s no way Bat-Cow could’ve- Damian then closed his eyes and took a couple deep breaths before joining you in the kitchen, where he could clearly see that the white and brown Bovine cow was indeed in the kitchen, just like you had said.
Now the question of how the cow had gotten into the manor -undetected no less- was a mystery entirely because surly someone would’ve noticed a 610kg, white and brown cow mindlessly clopping down the corridor from rooms away. But none of that mattered anymore as it was irrelevant to the current situation you and Damian both found yourselves in.
‘This day was bound to happen sooner or later, y/n this is Bat-Cow, the family…well cow.’ Damian said as though it were nothing new but for you, everything was made even more confusing. ‘And why do you have a pet cow? is Wayne Enterprises expanding into the farming business is it?’ You asked and Damian felt a headache about to come on.
‘Tt. No, me and father saved Bat-Cow from going to a slaughterhouse and have kept them ever since.’ He explained as he then moved past you to gently pet the cow on the muzzle, smiling softly when Bat-Cow made a noise of content. ‘Besides, this is nothing in comparison to Goliath.’
You made a face at this. ‘I’m sorry but Goliath who?’ You asked and Damian only continued to amuse himself as he petted Bat-Cow. ‘Exactly.’ He couldn’t wait to see your reaction firsthand.
Bruce tends to overwork himself to death most of the time, much to yours and Alfred’s disappointment.
You understood why he does what he does but did he necessarily have to neglect his own health and well-being to do so?
Gotham was a piece of work that is always under continuous construction, never in the hopes of being made better, but instead to be pushed to the side and left to slowly corrode and rot. Gotham was an ever developing plot hole that was bound to become even more than an issue then first assumed.
Gotham wasn’t a place worth saving for it always found a way to relapse back into old harmful habits, much so to the point where it’s own civilians didn’t care whether the city would survive another day, with all the chaos and destruction that seemed to be happening on the daily.
In Gotham it was easy as piss for one to lose all sense of empathy, humility and humanity.
Expect for one man. Bruce Wayne aka Batman. A shining beacon of hope for the future of Gotham in your eyes, a person who looked at the piss, shit and grime that flooded the streets and thought; I could help make this a better place, not by much, but just enough so that the civilians could rest easy knowing they’re looked out for. No matter if I get beaten down again and again, I’ll always get back up because if I don’t, then who will if not me? And you loved him for that and loved even more when he first brought Dick home, followed shortly by Jason, Tim and Damian with the inclusions of Stephenie, Cassandra and Duke respectively.
So nowadays whenever you wanted Bruce to rest, you’d call upon the help of the kids -now grown ass adults with lives of their own- and Alfred to help you drag Bruce away from the screens of the bat-computer.
‘You could’ve just asked nicely.’ Bruce said as he walked with the likes of you, Tim, Dick, Jason and Barbra out of the bat cave after successfully getting Bruce to join you and the remainder of the family- whom were waiting for you all in the dinner room- for dinner that Alfred made.
‘We did, multiple times.’ Jason replied.
‘Well if you consider pulling back his chair from under him asking then yes, yes we did.’ Tim then said as Dick butted himself in the conversation. ‘I mean, it did work in our favour in getting the old man out of the bat cave.’ Murmurs of agreement followed as you leaned against Bruce, staring at your gaggle of kids with nostalgia, chuckling.
‘What’re you laughing to yourself about?’ Bruce asks and you shrug.
‘Nothing, it’s just nice to see that your soft spot for them hasn’t changed after all this time.’ You replied, holding onto his arm as he pressed a small kiss to your head and hums in agreement.
‘They happen to take after you, and you’re hard to say no to in any capacity.’ Bruce answers and you couldn’t help but squint your eyes at him. ‘Liar.’ You tell him with a grin. ‘You just don’t want to admit that I’m right.’
Bruce chuckles and kisses your cheek. ‘Okay, maybe you’re right about one thing.’ He concedes and allows you to drag him down the hallway, happy to be able to see his family all in one place.
Jason who might as well make his apartment a makeshift animal shelter because of how many strays he brings in from off of the street and dangerous living situations.
The pattern in this being that the strays he brings in were dogs that were heavily stereotyped as dangerous and aggressive, hurt, or missing a limb in some capacity. So there would be days where you’d come home to find Jason bathing an XL bully and a Pit bull, whom had some scarring left from when they were used as an illegal fighting dog, and you wouldn’t even bat an eye as you discarded your coat and went to help Jason in drying them off.
‘Where’d you find this one then Jason?’ You asked as you ran a hand through the Pit bulls short fur as it fell asleep on his lap while the XL bully fell asleep in yours.
‘In an alleyway where I was just about finishing up my patrol, tucked away in a darkened corner in a rotting cardboard box where I could heard them whimpering as clear as day.’ He responded. You could hear the anger in his voice towards the mistreatment of the poor dogs and reached over to hold his hand, stroking the back of it with your thumb.
‘You saved them Jason. You’ve given them much more than what their previous owner did tenfold.’ You reassured him, letting him know that the good he’s done will stick with the dogs for a long, long time. ‘Are you planning to give them to Damian to look after before finding them a good home?’ You then asked, having dawn to terms a long time ago that you nor Jason would have the time to properly take care of them yourselves, no matter how much you wanted to but you knew in this instance you couldn’t be selfish.
‘I would but Damian already has his hands full with the Doberman and Staffy we found last time,’ Jason sifted in his seat to look at you, ‘apparently Titus, Alfred and Ace have grown attached to them and refuse to the idea of them leaving. So Bruce is in the process of legally having the dogs be put under his care.’
You visibly perk up as you cuddled the XL bully to your chest. ‘Does that mean?’ Jason couldn’t help but laugh at your inherent cuteness as he pecked your lips. ‘Yes, we get to shelter them a little while longer chipmunk.’ He murmurs against your lips and you couldn’t help but steal a kiss from his lips out of happiness.
‘Have I told you how much I love you lately?’ You asked.
Jason hums. ‘You have but once more couldn’t hurt now would it?’ He teases.
Not even a week later and you and Jason decided to keep Riley the XL bully and Roy the Pit bull and you both love them dearly.
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc fanfic#dc x y/n#dc comics x reader#dc fic#dc fanfiction#damian wayne x y/n#damian wayne x you#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne imagines#damian wayne fluff#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne imagine#bruce wayne x y/n#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagines#jason todd fic#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fanfiction
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Dark sbi where Tommy accidentally kidnaps Philza, not knowing he’s a crime lord. And he swears it was an accident! He just, you know, panicked. Tommy and Tubbo were just minding their own business slapping graffiti on a building (practicing their art skills, you see) when a cop started screeching at them, apparently not an appreciator of the fine arts. And since Mrs. Innit would KILL him if he got arrested, Tommy panics and takes a hostage, shouting at the cop not to take a step further or he’ll kill the random civilian he’s ducked behind so he can’t get shot.
Meanwhile Philza isn’t entirely paying attention, and realizes there’s suddenly a small child sheltering behind him from a cop. He gives the cop the nastiest look imaginable, which causes them to back off enough that Tommy thinks his plan is working. Once the negotiations start Philza is baffled by who would have the gall to kidnap him, and so poorly at that. Frankly it’s an umbrage to face the work of an amateur.
Well, till the abductor asks his name. “…do you not know who I am.?”
Tommy squints at the guy. His suit looks kinda fancy? Is it better or worse for him if he managed to randomly capture some Wall Street schmuck? “Hell no,” he hisses. “And I don’t care. I’m a dangerous guy alright? You don’t know what I’ll do to you.”
Philza’s laugh causes the cop to advance, wagering the situation isn’t intense. But because Tubbo’s ‘Yes And’ game is a force to be reckoned with, he casually pulls out a nerf gun (painted to look real for a prank on Ranboo) and trains it on the cop. Philza is positively delighted as he realizes just how amateur his abductors are. Oh this will be a riot to watch.
With more bluffing than Tommy knew he had in him, promising the hostage 20 bucks if he pretended to go along with it, the pure manic chaos bleeding from Tubbo’s eyes and ample gun waving, and creative use of spray paint in the eyes of the chasing cops, Tommy and Tubbo somehow manage to book it. For some reason the hostage keeps up with them instead of escaping. Huh. Can you develop Stockholm syndrome that fast? Tommy would ask, but he’s panting from sprinting. And as they live in an unjust world, hostage guy isn’t even breaking a sweat despite the three piece suit.
“You’re not going to get far on foot,” Philza murmurs. As corrupt and useless as the cops are for most things in this city, he doesn’t imagine there’d actually be that much fuss over a random man being kidnapped, but he wonders what they’ll do if spooked a little more. It’s been amusing thus far. The boys bicker, then elect to force him to drive as neither have licenses. They don’t ask him to drive to their homes, instead some secondary location. Smart, albeit Philza will definitely know both addresses within the hour.
While Tommy is busy ‘threatening’ Philza about the consequences of not getting them there, Tubbo just leans over from a bag of chips he’s munching on and offers them to Phil. Tommy rounds on him, less for showing exploitable kindness to the hostage and more for eating the Doritos that were meant to be his. Philza almost chides them for revealing each other’s names, but decides it might just be easier to hand them notes at the end of this. So far they aren’t getting a passing grade in abduction. But he has to admit it’s far more entertaining than the ‘business’ meeting he was planning to attend.
(Techno, meanwhile, hasn’t heard from Philza and is going BALLISTIC trying to figure out who kidnapped him. From the police report Phil just kinda went along with it, and looked terrified after a private exchange with the abductor, which has to mean the threat is ungodly to convince the Angel of Death to submit. Techno’s about to have a panic attack imagining the unthinkable horrors happening to his best friend, and is only holding it off by doing atrocities about it. This is the THIRD secret criminal organization he’s ripped apart in the last two hours and PHILZA ISNT HERE EITHER!?)
Philza has decided he likes his kidnappers. They’re not experienced in the slightest, but they make up for it with bravado, determination, and a certain lack of rationality that is necessary in the line of business Philza is in. Yes. They’ll do nicely if given a little guidance.
It’s half an hour before either of them notice Philza is driving aimlessly and they don’t recognize the city around them at all. “Hm? Next time I don’t recommend you give the hostage control of the vehicle. I could have immediately driven to the police station.”
Tommy frowns, almost more nervous at the implication the obvious blackmail would go unused. “…why didn’t you?”
“There’s no love lost between the cops and I. And even more importantly, you amuse me. I like your…potential.” He grins at the soft click of Tommy covertly trying the handle and finding the car doors locked. “Getting out at this speed is almost always fatal, Tommy.”
Tubbo lifts the muzzle of the fake gun towards him. “Let us go right. now.”
Philza leans over, ruffling Tubbo’s hair. The teen gulps at the glimpse of the holster Philza’s jacket was hiding, sharing a wide eyed look with Tommy. “I’m not exactly scared of foam bullets, mate.” He chuckles lowly at the tension freezing both of them. “Relax. You’ll be home by dinner. After you went through all the effort of kidnapping me to avoid trouble with your parents, I don’t intend to ruin it. I like you two; you have spunk I don’t see often. After all, it takes a lot of guts to kidnap the leader of the Syndicate.”
#Sbi#dark sbi#dark sbi fanfic#sbi fanfic#angel duo#clingy duo#emerald duo#philza#tommyinnit#technoblade#sbi au#tubbo#tw kidnapping#philza fanfic#tommyinnit fanfic#tubbo fanfic#for the record auto suggest tried to make the first sentence:#Dark sbi where Tommy accidentally kidnaps Philza not knowing he’s a vampire#Which is insanely different direction but also would be fun#But reverse mafia kidnapping story was the goal so#something to nom on
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I already regret making this post, but I think this needs to be a real discussion.
** Please note: I 100% do NOT want goyische opinions on this post. I am not interested, they are not helpful, and I will block you without hesitation even if we've been mutuals forever **
I think we have reached the level of Holocaust inversion on the left that we actually need to recalibrate the entire way we engage with an alarming amount of leftist goyim, because they have decided that their twisted understanding of Zionism as a form of 'apartheid genocidal ethnonationalist fascism' is on the same level as the Nazis.
Now regardless of how that makes you, as a Jew feel, that is how a lot of them are viewing this, period.
That means that you should assume that every single "we punch Nazis, not debate them" anti-fascist principle out there can be applied in full force to Zionists [with the understanding that their definition of Zionist usually means every Jew they don't like or agree with or who doesn't perform their brand of politics to the level they are asking]
Remember that video of an actual, real elderly Nazi that just croaks in the middle of his hateful yelling that went viral? Remember how happy people were when Richard Spencer got punched? Remember the whole "the only good Nazi is a dead Nazi" slogan? That whole idea that you cannot debate white supremacists and fascists because that inherently means debating your humanity and makes their position seem valid enough to debate?
Yeah. For these people, all of that applies to Zionists [and whoever they decide to label as such]
So yeah, an older guy protesting got killed? Same reaction as yelling Nazi dude above. Shrug.
A brutal massacre of Israelis and their neighbors that wiped out 1400 men, women and children? Imagine that some group managed to do that to 1400 Nazi families. We might find the sadistic nature of the deaths distasteful, but really: how many tears are you shedding?
Civilian population centers of primarily Jews are under constant missile shelling and bomb threats? Imagine that we were talking about Nazi Germany instead. Sucks for them I guess, right? 🤷♀️
Their reactions to recent events ranging from silent apathy to outright glee all make sense once you play a Mad Libs game of filling in "Zionist" or "Israeli" in place of "Nazi" or "fascist" in every "punch Nazis!!!1!" slogan.
The fact that Jews are and have been frequently the targets of these fascist groups throughout history and were the primary targets of the Nazis is irrelevant. The fact that we are human people who just want to practice our ancient religion and culture in peace is irrelevant. The bottom line is that the far goyische left has now figured out a way to fully de-person Jews in a social justice approved way, without even the ability to point out how utterly unhinged and counterfactual that take is because "we don't debate Nazis."
I don't know how to fix this.
Genuinely, I don't.
It's like the spirits of their pogrom-loving ancestors have gripped them and instead of whispering "the Jews killed Jesus, poison wells, and thirst for the blood of children," they just substitute out Jesus for Palestine.
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Cave boy Danny starts talking about one of the debates Tucker and Sam without mentioning their names when asked who the two are,Danny panics again and says that Sam is Selina since that's not that big of a jump when he starts saying her name
"One of my best friends would agree with you." Brucie suddenly speaks up one night at Dinner when Damian rants about his school not offering enough Vegetarian options. "She is an ultra-recyclo-vegetarian."
Bruce blinks having never heard the term before. A quick glance around the table tells him that neither have the others. Must be slang from his universe then. "What does that mean?"
"She doesn't eat anything with a face," Brucie explains. The curve of his lips has the tiniest amount of bestowed fondness that could only come from infatuation. Oh, Brucie is sweet on the girl. Bruce feels mildly alarmed as all his kids and Alfred sits up in interest when spotting it.
Unaware of what he just unwillingly gave away Brucie continues "Not to be confused with being a vegan because she will eat bread and cheese, but not often. She gets real mad when people mislabel her."
Dick grins, leaning over his forgotten dinner to pin Brucie under an eager stare. "I bet. Mislabeling is the worst."
"It is!" Brucie agrees, seemingly satisfied that someone else feels the same. "Especially when getting her to like you is like trying to get a cat's approval. But it's totes worth it when you do. No one has your back better than her."
A....cat's loyalty? Oh no. Surely it couldn't be-?
"What's your best friend's name?" Steph speaks up asking what's on everyone's mind. They all lean in a little closer as Brucie mindlessly gathers some rice on his fork.
"Her name is Sa-" Brucie takes a bite of his rice before swallowing. It takes everything in him not to quote Alfred and scold him for speaking with his mouth full. How Brucie grew up with such manners, Bruce would never know. "Selina! Her name is Selina."
Oh.
It seemed even in another world Bruce's heart would fall into Selina Kyle's hands.
His kids all but burst into cheers. Even Jason, and that was very hard to accomplish in the last few years.
"I knew it! I knew it!"
"Of course, it's Selina! Who else could it have been?"
"I suppose Kyle is not too horrid a partner for Father."
Duke and Cass high-five while Alfred seems to be glowing in parental pride as the other kids chat about his on-and-off girlfriend again. If a civilian version of himself still fell for her, Bruce could convince his Selina to quit the crime life and be his permanently.
Brucie stares a comprehensive eye around the table, so Bruce takes pity on him.
"I have a Selina as well. My kids....enjoy her company." He says, watching blue eyes swing at him as tiny black bangs fall slightly over them. It's adorable, and he finally understands why he had so many admirers. He bets civilian Brucie breaks just as many, if not more, hearts than he did at that age. "How long have you known Selina for?"
"Um...since she moved to my school when we were ten, so about four years, give or take?" Brucie shrugs, a slight blush overtaking his face. "She's great."
Oh, Bruce bet she is.
"Wait." Tim suddenly speaks up, eyes narrow in mistrust. Bruce had noticed before that the second youngest was suspicious of their dimensional visitor. He had been meaning to pull him aside to talk about it. "You said one of your best friends. Who is the other?"
"...Ethan. My other best friend is Ethan," Brucie says after a moment. He must mean Ethan Bennett. Bruce thinks wistfully of the old days when he would play basketball with his dear friend before he was lost in Clayface.
But why did Brucie pause on Ethan's name like that? It almost seemed like he was very carefully selecting that name or was trying to control his facial reaction to it.
A familiar blush bloomed over Brucie's checks and- oh. The boy had spoken about wishing he was from a world where bisexuality was more common, didn't he?
It would make sense. It's not like Ethan hadn't crossed his mind once or twice when Bruce was a teenager, either.
Tim's eyes narrow further. "I don't believe you."
"And I believe you can't stand the sight of your reflection because you're convinced no one will ever want it either." Brucie cheerfully chirps back before closing his eyes and sighing as if tired. He slumps in his chair, leaning his head against the headrest. "Sorry, that was mean. I'm trying to be less mean."
Bruce frowns at him, aware of Tim's eyes going glossy to his right but his son doesn't seem to want to step away. All conversation stops as they glare daggers at Brucie. Dick especially seems the most upset. "That was uncool Brucie"
"Yeah, sorry force of habit. My older sister and I-"
"Your what?" Bruce cuts him off, wondering if he heard right.
"My older sister?"
"You have a sister?"
"Yeah, don't you?"
"No," Bruce whispers. "No, I don't. I'm an only child."
"Oh. I'm the second youngest. I have an older sister, an older brother, and a younger sister." Brucie turns over to Tim to offer a sincere apology that the other gracious takes, but Bruce can't hear him over the sound of blood rushing between his ears.
"Mother and Father had more children?"
"Kind of." Brucie's face twists slightly in consideration. "Tommy and Harley are adopted. They are technically cousins since they were made by my uncle Vlad. Kate.....my older sister Kate, is my aunt Alicia's bio-kid but she was raised by my parents since she was one since Aunt Alicia wasn't...in the best mental state to care for her. No hard feelings are between them."
"Tommy, as in Tommy Elliot?!" Dick gasps, springing to his feet. "He is your adoptive older brother!?"
Brucie appears startled by his reaction, but he nods all the same. Bruce feels dread sink into his stomach.
"He's evil!" Dick shouts.
"I know." Brucie shrugs, uncaring. "Tommy has some issues, and he had them since he was...fourteen, but he's not dangerous.."
"Did you all miss that he said Harley is his younger sister? Harley as in Harleen Quinzel?" Jason cuts in, twisting to pin Brucie with a hard stare. "That's her real name, isn't it?"
"Well, her real name is Harleen Wayne, but she prefers Harley," Bruice says carefully. "Why? Do you know her?"
"She's evil too!" Dick gasps. "Brucie, you're in terrible danger with those two around!"
"Nah, Kate will stop them." Brucie waves his hand. "Sides Tommy and Harley are always traveling. Neither are home much these days."
Bruce feels a headache growing behind his eyes as Dick desperately tries to explain what happens to Brucie's adoptive siblings in their world. At the same time, his counterpart argues on his sibling's behalf.
(No one knows about the electric candles disappearing from the dinner table as the house descends into madness, trying to make the dimension travel realize his danger. Even fewer are aware of Danny's silent apology to Sam, Tucker, Jazz, Dan, or Dani for butchering their names and somehow still connecting them to someone in this world.)
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#dcxdpdabbles#dc x dp crossover#cave boy#Part 5#everlasting trio#Danny has a crush on his best friends#Bruce is having a heart attack#Yes Danny did feel bad about his knee reaction#Tim forgot already once he found out about Danny's adoptive sibs#Deeper and Deeper the hole has become#misunderstanding#Danny once again picked random names and they somehow all fit
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This Is How It Starts
Relationship: Hatake Kakashi x fem!Reader
Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI
Warnings: smut, dubcon? (sex pollen), porn with plot, confessions of feelings, voyeurism, masturbation, nipple play, 69, oral sex, cunnilingus, blow jobs, cum swallowing, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, POV Kakashi
Word Count: 9.3k (i have no excuse)
Summary: Kakashi is surprised to learn he'll be bringing you—a civilian—on his next mission. He takes every precaution he can think of, but what will he do when a strange new jutsu has an effect that he couldn't predict?
AO3 Link
Kakashi tucked his hands deep in his pockets as he waited for Tsunade’s office door to open. The report from his latest solo mission was stored in one of the front pouches of his flak vest, and he hoped he would manage to get in and out without a new mission scroll replacing it.
It had been nearly four months since Tsunade had been welcomed as Hokage to a village short on shinobi, and Kakashi hadn’t had an hour of free time since. At first, he had worried that his defeat at Itachi’s hands—or eyes, rather—would mean he’d lost some of the new Hokage’s confidence. But by this point, he wished that had been the case.
He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eye, figuring he may as well catch a few minutes of sleep while he had the chance. So when the door opened only a moment later, Kakashi chose to keep his head reclined and his eye closed, savoring a few more seconds of peace.
“She finally ready for me?” he asked, expecting to hear Shizune sigh before inviting him in.
“I think so…”
The voice that responded did not belong to Shizune. Kakashi finally opened his eye and there you were: the last person he expected to see coming out of the Hokage’s office.
You also happened to be the last person he would mind seeing, but that was another matter entirely.
“Y/N.” Kakashi felt his cheeks heat up as he fixed his posture and rubbed his sore neck. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“First time for everything I guess,” you smiled. “You getting back from a mission?”
Kakashi held up the scroll containing his mission report. “Turn in one, get assigned another.”
A genuine look of empathy colored your face. “I’m sorry.”
“Maah, it isn’t your fault,” he shrugged. “It’s just the way it is right now.”
“Kakashi!” Tsunade shouted from inside her office. “You just gonna stand out there all day?!”
“Duty calls,” he sighed.
“Good luck on your next assignment,” you offered.
“Thank you.”
Kakashi lingered beside the door, watching for just a moment as you made your way toward the exit down the hall. His curiosity got the better of him, which he quickly made known as he walked into the Hokage’s office.
“What was Y/N doing here?”
Tsunade wore an unamused expression, keeping quiet as Kakashi approached her desk. The two spent a few seconds in a charged silence before she rolled her eyes. “Normally, I would say it’s none of your business, but it happens to be relevant to your next mission.”
Kakashi didn’t even have a chance to make a smart comment about being assigned yet another mission without rest. The fact that you were somehow involved nullified his exhaustion. “What’s going on?”
“We’ve gotten reports that suggest evidence of a forbidden jutsu being developed in the Land of Rivers. All we really know so far is that it’s explosive-based. I need you to go and learn everything you can about it; who’s behind it? What does it do? Is it something that requires a specific chakra nature, or does it have the potential to be more of a widespread problem? I want all the information you can get.”
“Okay… but what does that have to do with Y/N?”
“She’s going with you.”
His brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”
“We don’t have any sensory-type shinobi available.”
He would need to have a medic-nin check his hearing. Or maybe he had recently suffered an untreated blow to the head and just forgotten about it, because Tsunade’s statements just weren’t adding up. “I still don’t see what that has to do with Y/N. She isn’t any type of shinobi.”
“But she could have been.” Tsunade shuffled the papers that were stacked slightly haphazardly on the corner of her desk. “I’ve been looking over her files from her time at the Academy. She outclassed all her peers in terms of sensory skills; but she never took to combat, so the old regime considered her to be too much of a liability.”
That made sense with everything he knew about you. His own time at the Academy was so short, it didn’t overlap yours at all. He remembered hearing about a potential sensory-type dropping out, but at the time, he really hadn’t given it a second thought. Some people just weren’t made for the shinobi lifestyle, and while he could now recognize that fact without bitter judgment, the same couldn’t be said of his opinions back then.
Over the last year or two, he’d gotten to know you as someone kind and considerate, who was easily startled and prone to daydreaming. It made perfect sense that you were content living a civilian’s life; working at a tailor shop, which Kakashi just so happened to frequent with his arms full of battle-torn clothes. Every visit had caused his fledgling attraction to grow into the undeniable crush that he hadn’t yet figured out how to act on.
Admittedly, he’d been looking for an excuse to spend more time with you, but taking you on a mission wasn’t what he had in mind.
“I discussed it with her, and she’s willing to give it another try,” Tsunade continued. “In the future I see her as more of a specialized ninja anyways, probably doing more work with the Intelligence Department than actually going into the field. And that makes this mission basically perfect for her.”
“Right, if you ignore the part where you are sending her out in the field.”
“You’re only meant to gather information, not get into a fight,” she countered. “And even if something happens, who better to handle it than you?”
Kakashi leveled his most unimpressed stare at her, letting her know he wouldn’t be won over by cheap flattery.
“Hey, we have to work with what we’ve got. Assigning you to escort her was actually better than I could have hoped for. Flattery aside, you know you’re a strong shinobi. I have complete faith in you.”
“I still don’t feel right about this. She may have the makings of a great sensory-type, but she’s still a civilian.”
“Well, when you’re Hokage, it’ll be your call.”
“Don’t even joke,” he deadpanned.
“Just, look out for her, okay? I appreciate that she’s even willing to go out there. If she hates it and she never wants to consider being a ninja again, I’ll respect that and back off. But I want to give her the chance to make that decision for herself this time.”
On that—at least—Kakashi agreed.
Not to mention, if he didn’t take the mission, that wouldn’t stop Tsunade from sending you out there with the next clown who was available. He didn’t want any other shinobi to be assigned if it was your well-being on the line.
“I’ll protect her.”
“Great. I told her to meet you at the gate tomorrow morning at 7:00. We want to make a good impression, so don’t be late.”
Kakashi arrived at the gate a half-hour early, his weapons pouches full of sharp, polished kunai and shuriken, as well as explosive tags, smoke bombs, food pills, and anything else that could possibly be useful. Taking a civilian on a mission was even riskier than taking a team of brand-new genin; at least they had the basic skills taught at the Academy. You were coming to him with an affinity for sensing chakra, but that was about it. Instead of sleeping, he’d spent the night checking, double-checking, and triple-checking everything; he would not be caught unprepared for anything that might threaten you.
You arrived with Tsunade about twenty minutes later. Tsunade must have given you a spare uniform; the dark blue outfit looking out of place on your figure. You didn’t wear a flak vest, and Kakashi wondered if Tsunade seriously withheld that just because you weren’t properly ranked.
“Good morning,” you greeted him with a self-conscious smile. Kakashi could practically feel the nervousness rolling off of you in waves; from the way you toyed with your hair to the way you shifted your weight where you stood.
He didn’t want you to feel nervous. He wanted you to feel safe.
Safe with him, specifically.
“Alright, good luck on your first mission, Y/N!” Tsunade smiled, standing beside Kakashi and clapping her hand down on his shoulder with arguably too much force. “We’ve got you with the best of the best here, so just focus on identifying the chakra, and let this guy deal with everything else.”
Kakashi brushed Tsunade’s hand away, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “I didn’t realize you held me in such high regard.”
“Of course I do! Besides, you guys aren’t even going through any enemy territory. It’ll be a breeze.”
You remained skeptical, looking back and forth between them. “If you say so.”
She may have been overdoing it, but Tsunade was trying to calm your nerves, and he should be doing the same. “She’s right,” he addressed you. “I can understand that you’re nervous, but I swear: I won’t leave you to handle anything on your own.”
Your eyes met his, and Kakashi actually felt his heart skip a beat. There was no way he would let anything get to you.
Kakashi counted himself lucky that the mission was technically all within the Land of Fire’s borders, but he still kept a vigilant watch. Your nervousness abated with every mile that passed without incident, and by the time you arrived at the town near the Land of Rivers’ border, you were almost too carefree.
“Wow,” you gaped at the unfamiliar surroundings. “This place is way different from Konoha. Ah, look! So cool!”
While you took note of the various shops and food stalls lining the busy street, Kakashi only focused on the way certain men in the crowd were noticing you. He stepped up to your side, putting his hand on your lower back and guiding you away from your gawking admirers. “Stay close.”
“Hm? I thought this wasn’t enemy territory.”
“It isn’t,” he conceded, “but it isn’t guaranteed to be friendly either.”
“Oh, of course. That makes sense.”
Kakashi tried not to feel proud of the way you nudged yourself just a little closer to him. “I didn’t say that to scare you,” he added. “It’s just best to stay cautious.”
“Understood.”
“Let’s find a place to rest. Tsunade’s given us a stipend for food and lodging.”
“Oh, that’s not a bad deal.”
“I have to be honest; this isn’t typical. It depends on the rank of the mission, among other things. Normally, a mission like this would mean sleeping outdoors and living on shinobi rations.”
Your mouth flattened in a tight line. “I see.”
Tsunade would punch my lights out if she could hear me talking like this. “They aren’t that bad,” he hurried to add. “It’s only on the really long missions that I get tired of them. And of course we have bedrolls so it isn’t completely uncomfortable…”
“It’s alright,” you smiled. “You don’t have to sell me on the whole shinobi thing, even though I wouldn’t be surprised if Lady Tsunade asked you to.”
Kakashi nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “Not in so many words…”
“I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but I wish she hadn’t laid it on so thick. I mean, what good is this mission as a trial run if she sets me up with all this extra stuff that I wouldn’t normally get?”
“You make a good point,” Kakashi agreed. “If you want, we could skip the inn, and spend this mission the way I assume it would really go.”
“Nah, let’s use it. I’m sure you don’t get the chance to take advantage of stuff like this too often. You might as well benefit from her scheming while you can.”
“If you insist,” he smirked.
He kept his hand on your back the rest of the way to the nearest inn, where he rented the cheapest room, knowing he would feel guilty if he used the opportunity to splurge. He realized his mistake as soon as he opened the door, internally screaming when he found that the room only contained one narrow bed.
Jiraiya would have a field day with this.
Kakashi immediately offered you the bed, laying out his bedroll before you felt pressured to start a charitable back and forth. He was the senior on this mission; it was his responsibility to make sure you were comfortable. And that did not include having him share the bed, much as he might wish differently.
As you both settled in, Kakashi tried just to focus on the mission ahead. According to Tsunade’s intel, all those who’d witnessed the jutsu had passed through the woods located southwest of the town. You two would search that area tomorrow in case the jutsu caster left any trace. With any luck, the search would turn up evidence quickly.
“This way.”
Kakashi gestured for you to follow him, but he was impressed with how little he seemed to actually need to direct you. It didn’t feel like he was leading a civilian. True, an experienced shinobi would be able to read his movements and anticipate the orders before he gave them, but you were keeping up much better than he expected. Maybe it had to do with your sensory skills. Either way, Tsunade’s plans for you might just pan out after all.
He would have to examine his mixed feelings on that, later.
“I think I feel something,” you said. “A concentrated mass of chakra, but it feels strange. Not like when I can feel a person’s chakra.”
“It might be some kind of trap. Be careful where you step.”
You nodded and continued on your way through the forest, keeping your gaze low to the ground. Kakashi had told you what to look for, explaining how to spot wires and other hidden obstacles, and while you would need to get quicker at it, he was pleased to see you’d taken his lesson to heart. Your sensory skills would only help you if the tools were chakra-infused, so familiarity with basic traps would be vital.
“I think it’s coming from this plant.”
Kakashi headed toward you, watching as you started reaching toward a large bell-shaped flower. Just as he was about to reach you, the flower petals unfurled, revealing a small sphere covered in tags.
A paper bomb!?
Kakashi grabbed you by the waist and jumped away only a fraction of a second before the bomb exploded. You landed on your back, Kakashi hovering over you to shield you from the blast. But the explosion wasn’t the type he had been predicting. Where he thought it would be all heat and shrapnel, there was instead a thick cloud of translucent mist, shimmering like dew on a fragile spiderweb. A dud?
Maybe I shouldn’t have tackled her, then.
He couldn’t even feel the density of the mist; if it weren’t for the way it refracted light, he might not have known the bomb had done anything at all.
Kakashi looked down at you. Your eyes were locked on him, your chest rising and falling as you caught your breath. “Are you alright?” he asked.
“I think so,” you muttered. “Thanks.”
He scrambled to his feet, then held out his hand to help you up. “This is the chakra I felt,” you said, looking around. “Is it dangerous?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen this before.” Kakashi lifted his hitai-ate and opened his Sharingan to inspect the mist. It was difficult to make sense of what he was seeing. The substance hung in the air, a strange chakra aura hovering like fog. It had expanded in a thirty-meter radius from the source of the explosion—much wider than he had anticipated when he jumped backward. Something about seeing that cloud of chakra made his skin crawl. Even his mask felt too tight against his face.
Looking at you, he noticed some of the chakra had settled on your clothes and your face like pollen. He could even see it pass through your lips as you inhaled. Normally, it was instinctual for Kakashi to limit his breathing in the wake of an explosion. But he’d been so worried about protecting you, his instincts had failed him. He hadn’t even thought to warn you to hold your breath, either.
Whatever it was, it was in both of your systems now.
“We need to get out of it.” Kakashi scooped you into his arms, carrying you out of the cloud of chakra as quickly as he could. He was much faster than you were—it only made sense for him to carry you. At least, that’s what he told himself as he ran, trying to ignore the placement of his hands on your body. When he was clear of the mist and you could both breathe freely, he put you back on your feet. “How much did you inhale?”
“I don’t know… too much, probably. Oh Gods… I feel really warm. Is that bad?”
“I don’t know exactly; but don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.” He smiled at you, hoping to calm your nerves. “Let’s just get back to the inn, and regroup from there, okay?”
You nodded, putting on a brave face and following him on the way back into town. He could tell you felt guilty, but he didn’t know what else he could say. This jutsu was completely new to him.
Kakashi wished he had more medical training beyond bandaging his own wounds. Maybe there was some way he could be proactive. But with every step closer to the inn, he started to feel his own temperature rising. His flak vest felt gradually heavier on his shoulders and chest, causing his breathing to become more of a chore. He wiped his brow with his forearm and turned to look at you.
Your face was noticeably flushed, and you were panting despite the relaxed pace. You just looked so uncomfortable, tugging at your clothes as you tried to keep up.
“Is it getting worse?” he asked.
“Yeah,” you admitted. “I’m really hot now, and lightheaded… dizzy… You don’t feel any of that?”
“I’m a bit warm too,” he agreed, “but I probably didn’t inhale as much as you.”
“I guess that’s an advantage of your mask,” you offered, lightly smiling before your face twisted into a grimace and you doubled over, clutching your stomach.
“What is it??”
“Cramp—” You took a few sharp breaths as you let the pain pass. He waited as patiently as he could until you turned and looked up at him with your eyes open wide, pupils so dilated he could barely see any color. Your face was red and your lips were parted, like you still couldn’t catch your breath.
“We’re almost back,” he encouraged you. “I’ve got you.”
He said it with the best of intentions, but by the time he got you back to town, you were pulling at the front of your shirt and fanning yourself with the fabric. Your skin had gone from flushed to feverish, and the dizziness had progressed to a point where you were unsteady as you walked. Kakashi tried to steady you by putting his hands on your waist, but you had tensed up so much in response that he shoved his clammy hands in his pockets for the rest of the trip.
As soon as you got in the room, you curled yourself onto the bed in the fetal position. You were rubbing your thighs together and running your hands up and down your sides. Kakashi felt hot under the collar as well, and seeing you writhe on the bed like that certainly wasn’t helping.
“D-do you need water?” he asked, trying to think of any way to help.
“No,” you groaned as you pressed your face into the mattress.
“What can I do—”
“Nothing.”
“Y/N, you have to talk to me. Tell me what you’re feeling.”
You whined. “It’s embarrassing.”
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed abo—”
“I’m horny, okay!??” you hissed. “It’s so bad I can’t even think straight. I feel like I’m going to boil out of my skin. I feel like I’m going to explode if I don’t…”
You trailed off with a groan, seemingly still in enough control of yourself to stop before finishing that sentence. But it was more than clear what you were about to say, and hearing you voice even that much of the truth forced Kakashi to acknowledge: that was exactly how he felt, too. The heat, the unsteadiness, the tightness in his groin. Loathe as he was to believe it, he understood what you both were up against.
Aphrodisiac.
Kakashi had heard of this type of technique before, but he never knew of anyone using it or being hit by it before. Honestly, he never even thought it was real. But his discomfort was already shifting into insistent pain, and he probably had less of the pollen in his system than you did. If this is how he felt, you had to be going insane.
Bigger problem: he had no idea what would happen if you didn’t do something about it. Is there any treatment other than…
Kakashi cleared his throat. “If you need to… take care of it, you can.”
Your cheeks burned even redder from embarrassment, but Kakashi noticed the way your fingers twitched like you’d been waiting for his permission. “Yeah?”
“I’ll just… watch. I mean—! Keep watch! From—” he frantically pointed to the door, “out there. I will go and guard the door.”
He waited for your answer, only recognizing your thighs rubbing together and the impatient look on your face five seconds too late.
“Right, sorry.” Kakashi slipped out of the room and quickly closed the door, sighing out a nervous exhale and letting his back hit the dense wood.
Idiot.
He brought his hands to his face, still warm from guilt and irritation at himself for saying such a stupid thing. But no wonder—there was so much blood swelling his dick that there was none left for his brain. The feeling between his legs was completely overbearing; heavy, tight, sensitive. Just the way his clothes were brushing against his dick had him biting his lip.
He tried to clear his mind, putting his arms rigidly at his sides and taking another heavy breath. Unfortunately for Kakashi, that turned out to be a huge mistake. His sharp nose caught a hint of you inside the room, the scent of your arousal making his mouth water and his cock throb.
With that, his self-control went out the window.
His hand slipped under his waistband without command, his fingers wrapping around his shaft and beginning to slowly pump. His eyebrows pinched together, failing to process how his actions brought him twice as much desire as it relieved.
Knowing in the back of his mind how wrong it was, Kakashi pictured you as he touched himself; thinking of how fucking sexy you probably looked.
Would you lie on your back? Legs spread and fingers pumping in and out of your needy hole? Or maybe you’d straddle a pillow and take it for a ride, rubbing that swollen clit against the fabric. Fuck, what if you were in such a rush that you grabbed his pillow? Stuffed it between your legs and rode it into the mattress until you were out of breath and exhausted, leaving your scent saturated in the fabric so he could bury his nose in it later. Like a wild fucking animal.
Shame made his cheeks hot. It was so wrong, but he still couldn’t stop imagining all the ways you might be pleasuring yourself right now; right on the other side of the door. And what dirty thoughts might be running through your head? Was your need so strong that you didn’t have to have anything on your mind? Or could he dare to hope that your time in close proximity meant that he was on your mind? Kakashi pumped a little faster and imagined your pretty flushed face, eyes screwed shut and head full of thoughts of him.
Knowing how twisted and perverted it was, he put his ear to the door and listened. He could hear the low creaking of the bed; the headboard lightly tapping against the wall in a precise rhythm. You were clearly trying to stay quiet, but your desperation had you huffing out muffled gasps and unsatisfied whines that made his cock ache in his grasp.
He could make you feel so much better. He could have you moaning and crying out his name. Kakashi… Kakashi—
“Kakashi…?”
His eye snapped open and he pulled his hand away from himself in a guilty rush. “A-are you finished?” he asked, sounding breathless and spent even though his dick was still painfully hard and twitching for attention.
“It’s not working,” you groaned, frustration and anxiety in your voice.
He slowly pushed the door open, giving you time to shout or throw something if he was about to stumble into a scene he shouldn’t see. But you were just sitting cross-legged on the bed, your pants on the floor and your lap covered by a pillow that he couldn’t help but be jealous of. He forced himself to ignore the now overpowering scent of your sex permeating the air; as if he needed more proof of your efforts.
“It isn’t enough.” You looked up at him with red, desperate eyes. “What’s happening?”
Kakashi moved without thinking, kneeling down in front of you at the foot of the bed and cupping your jaw in his palm. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“How?” You nuzzled into his palm, visibly calmed by his touch. Your cheek was so soft, so smooth… He stroked your skin with his thumb, forgetting for a second that he had no right to touch you—especially not with the hand he’d just had shoved down his pants.
Kakashi moved to pull his hand away from you, but you reached up and held him in place. “Don’t…” you breathed. “It feels good.”
“Y/N…” he warned.
“I’m sorry,” you whined, although you hardly seemed sorry with the way you reached your other hand forward and grabbed the front of his vest, pulling him closer. “It just… fuck, Kakashi, it hurts. I don’t know what to do.”
You looked him in the eye. “I think… I think I need you.”
The pained tone of your voice cut him deeper than any blade ever had. But he didn’t know what to do, either. He was responsible for you. It was his own fault this was happening to you in the first place. He should have protected you and prevented it, but he had failed. Miserably. Completely blown it.
So… the least I can do at this point is try to help, right?
No. It would be wrong. It would be so incredibly despicably wrong. Despite the lewd way he’d already thought about you, and the painful throbbing between his own legs.
“I can’t.” He leaned slightly back. “I can’t take advantage of you like that.”
“You breathed it in too,” you said. “It’s not taking advantage.”
“It is,” he insisted. “Even if I tell myself it’s just to help you… it won’t be that for me.”
“Kakash—”
“I have feelings for you, Y/N.” He blurted the truth before he could stop himself. “And I hate to see you in pain but I can’t pretend like I’d be sleeping with you just to get whatever the hell this is out of our systems. I want you. For a while now; not just because of some stupid airborne—”
“Kakashi.” You put both hands on either side of his face. “I want you too.”
Could that be true? Or was it just the poison talking? Why would you want someone like him, who would only complicate your life?
“Y/N, you don’t—”
“Please,” you begged. “Just listen. I won’t have the courage to admit this later.”
You renewed your hold on his jaw, making sure he gave you his full attention. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time. I didn’t even think I was any good at hiding it; I thought that might have been one of the reasons Lady Tsunade assigned you to the mission with me; because she knew I had a crush on you and she probably figured I would be more likely to do this if it meant being around you. Which, honestly, if that was her plan then she was right. I was too scared to come out here until she said I’d be going with you.”
“R-really?”
“Really, Kakashi. I don’t want to be a shinobi. I didn’t even really want to when I was a kid. I was relieved when I left the program. And I was terrified when Lady Tsunade asked me to do this. I only agreed because I wanted to be with you. And I thought maybe—best case scenario—I could help you in some way and impress you because, I mean, I’m nobody and you’re you. You could have anybody you want, and if you’re saying that it’s me… Kakashi, you have me. You’ve had me the whole time. So at the risk of sounding like an Icha Icha character, just take me already.”
He laughed; caught off guard that someone so funny and bright and beautiful would ever feel that way about him. But the way you apparently felt about yourself was even harder to believe. “You aren’t nobody, Y/N,” Kakashi promised. “And I would tell you everything that’s incredible about you if I weren’t so distracted by how badly I want to kiss you.”
You blushed, your eyes shifting down to his covered mouth. “Can I take off your mask?”
Kakashi nodded. You adjusted your hold on him, gently hooking your fingertips under his mask and slowly tugging it down. He noticed your body start to tremble impatiently, and it made his heart melt; how you still moved slowly, prioritizing his comfort over yours. Your eyes roamed over every centimeter of skin you exposed, taking it in bit by bit until his mask was fully down.
You let the material fall from your fingers, your eyes lingering on his lips. “You’re sure?” you whispered.
“I want you, Y/N. Nobody else.”
He let you look for two more seconds, until he couldn’t hold back any longer. Urgently, he used his grip on your jaw to pull you forward, bringing your mouth to his and kissing you with hunger. You moaned against him, dipping your fingers into his hair and tugging to get him closer, shifting your legs to wrap them around his torso. In turn, he dropped his hands to your waist and hugged you close, kissing you over and over and over again. He couldn’t get enough. The feel and taste of your lips had him going out of his mind; even just the sound of each kiss drew him back in.
“Mmm, Kakashi…” You hummed between kisses, sighing his name into his mouth and running your fingers through his hair.
He put his hand on your shoulder and steadied you as he pulled back—only an inch. “I need to know this is real,” he panted. “I don’t want you to regret anything.”
“The only thing I regret is not telling you how I feel sooner,” you smiled. “Sounds like we could have been doing this for a while now.”
Like a force that only nature itself could produce, you and Kakashi came back together, his tongue snaking its way into your mouth as you tugged at his shirt. He crawled forward, causing you to lie flat on the bed. He grabbed the pillow you’d held between your legs and tossed it across the room. He may have been fantasizing about that pillow before, but now it was only an object in his way.
Nothing was going to keep him from you anymore.
He prowled over you, letting his heavy bulge press against your clothed core. Your body was warm to the touch, and he felt the heat between your legs as you rubbed against him. You each moaned into the other’s mouth at the contact. Despite the layers of fabric between you, rubbing himself between your legs still brought him a thousand times more relief than his hand had. He could only imagine how good your bare cunt would feel.
Soon, he would do so much more than imagine. And it seemed you had the same idea.
“Take off your clothes,” you grinned as you unzipped his vest.
Kakashi hummed as he shrugged off the garment without breaking the kiss. “The mask wasn’t enough?” he teased.
“Not even close.”
Kakashi gripped the front of his shirt and tore it over his head, admiring the way you blushed even harder at the sight of more of his skin, your eyes enjoying everything from his collarbones to his silver happy trail. He raised an eyebrow, silently asking for permission to undress you as well. You nodded, letting him lift your shirt off over your head and giving him access to your gorgeous tits that he’d thought about on more than one occasion; when he couldn’t fall asleep without getting himself off.
He leaned down to suck harsh kisses into the soft flesh of your exposed cleavage. It felt so right to have you on his lips. He couldn’t resist the urge to bite down, leaving teeth marks all across your chest while you giggled and squirmed in his hold.
With every ounce of skill he had, Kakashi reached around your back to unhook your bra, flinging it away from your chest and groping your breasts like the shallow pervert he didn’t want you to think he was, in spite of his actions. But he didn’t stand a chance. Back home, you’d nearly caught him (more than once) ogling your chest in the midst of casual small-talk. Denying himself now—with you so beautiful and willing underneath him—would have been out of the question. And they were just so soft, reacting eagerly to the feeling of his rough palms and fingertips. If not for the influence of the pollen, he would have been happy to play with your tits all day.
Your nipples pebbled under his touch, creating the perfect peak for him to suck into his mouth. His name continued to tumble off your lips like a prayer. He never wanted you to stop saying it. It sounded so good in your breathless voice. Kakashi tested your limits by trapping your nipple between his teeth, biting down with more and more pressure until you were pulling on his hair and trembling below him.
“Shhhhh.” He licked your nipple to soothe it, apologizing for the rough treatment. “Just needed to see how much you could take.”
You laughed. “What exactly are you planning to do to me?”
His answer came in an emphatic groan. “Everything you’ll let me do.”
You pulled his mouth back to yours, kissing him harder and rolling your hips into him. “Pants—” you gasped. “Off.”
Kakashi chuckled against your lips, reluctantly pulling away and sitting up on his knees. He flicked open the button of his pants and grabbed the waistband of both his pants and his briefs, pulling them down slowly. It had less to do with teasing you and more do with making sure he didn’t cum in his pants, but the tortured and hungry look on your face was certainly a bonus.
Your eyes darkened as he exposed himself inch by inch; his skin taut and sensitive, veins standing out prominently all the way down his shaft. Finally, he took pity on you, bringing the elastic down past his engorged head. His cock sprang up and smacked into his stomach, a wet glob of precum sticking to his abs.
“Gods… Kakashi…” Your lips parted, your tongue darting out to wet them. “You’re so big.”
You started crawling forward, eyes hungrily glued to his dick. It twitched for your attention with the same persistent need he felt throughout his whole body. His fingers twitched with the ache to touch you; his lips tingling—needing contact with your skin.
Desperately, he reached out and pulled you to your knees to kiss you. You giggled and slid your hand down his chest, cupping his hot, weeping cock with a gentle grip that turned him into putty.
You maneuvered your hand around him, touching and stroking to familiarize yourself with his size and weight. Kakashi’s head tilted back as he let out a deep groan from deep in his chest.
“Feel good?” you whispered, kissing your way from his jaw down his neck.
Kakashi was so turned on, he was afraid to speak—afraid that he wouldn’t be able to make a sound beyond a pathetic mewl. Instead, he settled for vigorously nodding his head. Shivers erupted along his skin. The only thing on his mind was the need for more relief. His hand flew up to envelope yours, urging you to pump faster. “Keep touching me,” he exhaled. “Fuck.”
Teasingly, you started moving your mouth down the planes of his chest. “I want to taste it.”
Kakashi threaded his free hand into your hair, pulling your mouth back to his a bit more roughly than he would have if he’d been in his right mind. “Wanna taste you too,” he moaned. “Need to.”
He tossed you back onto the bed, crouching down and positioning his face between your legs. The center of your panties was drenched, and his eyes dilated like a predator locked on its prey.
Kakashi pressed his face against your panties, inhaling your scent and exhaling in a shaky groan. You smelled like something to be devoured, and he would be damned if he let it go to waste. His mouth watered, nearly as wet as your cunt. “You smell so fucking good.”
He couldn’t wait anymore. Kakashi flattened his tongue and licked along the drenched fabric, too impatient to think to take them off. You squirmed and tugged on his hair, breathless moans and pleas falling from your lips. He rutted into the mattress, kicking his pants and boxers off as he yanked your panties to the side and lapped at the mess between your legs.
It was incredible, but those panties were gonna be the death of him. Kakashi reached into his pile of discarded clothes, hooking the end of a kunai on one finger. He spun it around the digit to adjust his grip before cutting your panties down to shreds so he could finally have full access to your heat.
Now that there was no pesky underwear in his way, he hooked his arms under your thighs and rubbed your pussy over his face until he was covered in your juices. You squirmed, but there was no way he was letting your cunt get away from his mouth. Kakashi feasted on you like a man who’d lived on nothing but bread and water his whole life.
Dumb lustful indecision fogged his brain and made his muscles clench with impatience. If he had his way, he would go slowly. Enjoy himself. He would savor you; kiss and lick and suck until your cute little cunt was prepped to handle him. But the influence of the chakra pollen was too strong. His cock was no longer begging for attention—it was demanding. And humping the mattress wasn’t gonna cut it.
Not that he would settle for that, anyway. His aching hardness would only be soothed by the softness of your body.
Kakashi huffed in frustration, summoning the strength to tear his face from between your legs in order to climb fully on top of you. He pushed his thumb into your mouth, gripping your jaw and urging it open before rubbing his thumb over your tongue. “Need this.”
You looked so fucking cute, nodding with your wide eyes and your pink cheeks, and Kakashi wished he was in the right mind to take his time with you. He was as careful as he could manage, rolling onto his back and manhandling you into position above him—on all fours, your cunt poised just over his face and your mouth inches from his dick.
“There we go,” he proudly grinned, grabbing two handfuls of your ass and pulling you down to smother himself.
You moaned as you rolled your hips into him, desperate to ride his face. You bit down on his hip before licking one long trail from his navel down to his lap and up the length of his throbbing cock.
His hips automatically lifted off the mattress to follow you. Kakashi shuddered as his head slipped past your lips and found its home in the warmth of your mouth. The long-awaited pleasure was indescribable; he only knew that nothing had ever felt this good, and he would be lucky to last five minutes.
Kakashi buried his face in your dripping cunt, wasting no time before running his tongue and nose through your slippery folds. You whimpered, grinding down on his face and forcing your own mouth further down his shaft while you pumped the base with your hand to make up for what you couldn’t fit.
He snarled against your folds when he felt you take his tip into your throat, gagging and sputtering while saliva drooled from your mouth. He lapped at your clit with frenzied licks, desperate to make you cum before he blew his load down your throat. Your clit throbbed, still so unsatisfied despite your earlier struggle.
You said you needed him. He had to prove how good he could make you feel.
Kakashi focused all his efforts on your clit, expertly reading your reactions and memorizing what was too much and what made you search for more. When he felt your thighs tremble, he locked down his pace and pressure, single-mindedly working you to an orgasm that left his face a sopping mess.
He kissed your hole like it was your mouth, lazily licking up your juices from your still-quivering cunt. Even at the height of your orgasm, you were still spoiling his cock—sucking and licking and pumping—and now that he’d finally gotten you off, he was more than ready to do the same.
Kakashi threaded his fingers up your scalp and through your hair, gripping you and bracing you before he started thrusting into your mouth. He felt more of your saliva drooling down his shaft and dripping onto his balls, easing his frenzied movements. With only his own pleasure on his mind, he felt his nerves race to the edge almost immediately.
“Shit… I’m gonna cum…” he panted. “Will you swallow it for me?”
You responded by humming around his dick, massaging his balls to encourage him.
“Fuck—” he grunted, “Get ready, ahh—”
The first pulse was almost blindingly satisfying. Kakashi quickly let go of your head so he wouldn’t drown you, too relieved to be embarrassed by how much cum was spurting from his tip. It felt like it would never stop, making his eyes roll back in euphoric bliss.
He wrapped his arms around your hips and hugged to bring your cunt back to his face, pressing a flurry of kisses over your folds while you drank down everything he gave you. Rather than feeling overstimulated as his cock twitched one last dry time, he instead felt his body giving itself back over to the pleasure of your mouth. It still just felt good, and he could tell from the way you were riding his face that your satisfaction was short-lived, too.
It took more willpower than he was willing to admit to pull himself away from you. “Y/N. Hold on—come here.”
You crawled your way up his body, leaving wet kisses trailing from his pelvis up to his jaw. Kakashi positioned you to lay on top of him, pulling your mouth to his and indulging in another set of deep, passionate kisses.
He smirked against your lips when he felt you start to roll your hips into him. “You want more, sweetheart?”
“Please,” you whined. “I’m sorry; it felt better at first, but…”
Kakashi settled you with another kiss. “It’s okay. I know what you mean.”
“You too?”
He reached between your bodies, gripping his cock and sighing at the pleasure. “It shouldn’t be possible for me to still be this hard.”
You looked away bashfully. “I’m sorry I got us into this.”
“I’m not.” Kakashi rolled over to put you on your back. “True, I didn’t imagine it would happen quite like this,” he blushed, “but I did imagine this more often than I should admit.” He kissed you again, hoping he could explain himself without his greedy dick undermining his words. “I’ve imagined a whole life with you. And if this is how it starts… I’m not sorry at all.”
“Kakashi…” you whispered, blinking up at him before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and clutching him close. You pulled him into another kiss, your fingers burrowing into the roots of his hair. “In that case, neither am I.”
Kakashi cupped your head in his hand and cradled you as he deepened the kiss. He could feel your body humming with anticipation below him. He ran his other hand down the outline of your body, taking his time as much as he could stand.
“You’re so beautiful,” he exhaled. “So fucking beautiful.”
“Please…” You whined against his mouth, titling your hips for friction. “Kashi, I need you.”
He smirked, kissing you one more time before sitting back on his calves. His eyes roamed your body hungrily as he gripped his cock. “Normally, it would hurt my pride that you still needed more…” He stroked himself once, twice before slapping his cock down on your tummy. “…But hearing you beg for my cock definitely makes up for it.”
You blindly reached forward and dug your nails into his thighs. “Gods, please put it in…”
His dick throbbed, a pearly string of precum dripping onto your stomach. You were absolutely gorgeous, and he had you pinned to the mattress, begging him to destroy you.
He rubbed his cock along your slippery folds, his sticky precum mixing with your arousal. The relief from that alone was nearly indescribable. But still, Kakashi felt like if he didn’t get to sink his cock inside your perfect little hole, he wouldn’t survive.
You shamelessly squirmed beneath him, and he knew you felt the same as he did.
“You need this cock, baby?”
“I do Kakashi I need it so bad…”
“Don’t worry,” he cooed. “I’ll give you anything you ask for.”
Kakashi lined himself up with your entrance; something in his brain snapping at the sight of being so close. His hips thrust forward, burying nearly his entire length in one shot. You shrieked, clawing at his back while wrapping your legs around his hips. Your plush walls sucked him in, the pleasure so immediate that he collapsed down onto your chest, his hips instinctively rearing back and plunging forward to feel more and more.
Kakashi forced himself to slow down, peppering soothing kisses over your shoulder. “Sorry,” he huffed, unable to suppress the grin spreading over his face. “It’s just so hard to hold back. I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”
“Me too,” you panted, thrusting up to meet him. “Keep going. Please.”
Your mouth had felt incredible. But your cunt—it was where his dick belonged. It was designed for him. Even with all the teasing and foreplay, you were still so tight. And soft. And warm. And wet. Walls gripping him, suction pulling him in, drawing him deeper; he couldn’t fight it. He was only human. But in that moment, he could swear you were something more.
“Fuck… you feel so good, better than I even—hgnh, Y/N baby…”
Your breath passed by his ear in overwhelmed whimpers that were lost in the loud smacks of his skin against yours. He was reaching so deep, he swore he felt the tip of his cock prodding at your cervix.
“T-tell me if I’m hurting you,” he panted, letting his hips continue to slam into yours. “If it’s too much, I’ll…”
You’ll what? …Stop?
Even the thought of stopping made him grind his teeth in protest. His hips thrust even harder, proving that he had no say in the matter.
Stopping was not an option. He was gonna fuck your needy, precious little cunt until it was ruined. And maybe then some.
Your nails dug deeper into his back, his name rolling off your lips in desperate gasps mixed with tiny sounds of frustration. “Kakashi, don’t stop, fuck, I…”
“Yeah?” he grinned, digging his hands into your hips and angling you perfectly to take his every thrust. He pressed his chest into yours and latched his lips to your exposed throat. Covetously, he sucked a hickey into your throat while he kept pounding away, claiming every last bit of you for himself. It was all for him. He would make sure of it, leaving his mark on you with his mouth and hands so that no one could question who you belonged to.
You babbled praises, tongue lolling out of your mouth as your eyes rolled back in your head. “Like that,” you gasped. “Just like that—”
Primal intuition guided his movements. He folded your left leg backward, grunting into your clavicle at the bone-deep gratification that raced along his nerves. You hiked your right leg a little higher on his hips. Desperately, he brought his mouth to yours, kissing you and panting, pulling away just for a glimpse of the cock-drunk look in your eyes before he quickly kissed you again.
He needed to feel you with every part of himself. It wasn’t enough to continuously stuff himself balls-deep inside you. He wanted to taste your lips and feel your body, leaving nothing untouched. He put his right hand over your breast, immediately rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger as he pushed your leg back further and rubbed himself over the sensitive area behind your clit.
You tossed your head back with an indulgent cry, pleading for more. “There… don’t stop!”
“Right there?” Kakashi felt your walls flutter around him, and he buried his face in your neck. It was too good; he wasn’t gonna last, and once he came this time, it would be the last of his stamina. But you asked him not to stop, and he wouldn’t. Not until he gave you what you needed. “What else? I’ll do anything you want.”
“W-want you to cum with me.”
Kakashi gasped out a curse, pounding away at your sweet spot. “Tell me where you want it,” he groaned. “I’m close.”
“I-inside. Cum inside. Please.”
Kakashi moaned, feeling the muscles in his pelvis tighten with enthusiasm. “Haa, oh yeah?” He pressed his pelvis down harder, increasing the friction on your clit. “Want me to—ngh—fill you up?”
Instead of answering, you yanked his head back within reach of your mouth and kissed him, moaning into his mouth and clinging to him. Kakashi couldn’t keep his answering smile at bay; he was too lost in his own delirious happiness. If he could have held out forever—stayed just like this—he would have.
But he didn’t have to. These feelings were real. After this, he still had hours, days, years to spend exchanging kisses and breaths and affection with you.
Kakashi grabbed your ass with bruising strength as his orgasm hit. His stomach twisted and his balls contracted, signaling a rush of endorphins that made his toes curl and his thighs shake. You squeaked against his mouth, pulled directly over the edge with the first pulse deep at the base of his dick.
You broke away from his mouth, but your limbs clutched to him as your own orgasm sent tremors through your body. “K-ka-kashi-i!” The broken sound of his name slipped past your lips over and over in a desperate whisper.
“I’ve gotcha.” Kakashi held you close, riding out his intense high while giving you something to stabilize yourself. “I’m right here. I’ve gotcha.”
The muscles in your cunt repeatedly tightened around his cock to wring out every last drop of cum he still had to offer. The tug beneath his navel tugged beyond the point of pain, but his cock still pulsed; keeping pace with the demands of your cunt until you finally came down. It left him panting, his forehead resting on yours as he stared into your eyes.
No trace of the jutsu remained; leaving just the two of you in a bubble of heady, genuine affection that quieted the last of his fears. When his lungs relaxed, he titled his head to catch your lips in a sweet, devoted kiss. You hugged him to your chest and answered his kiss with the same promise.
He stayed like that, blissed-out and content, until your spent pussy started quivering from overuse. He leaned away to give you space, but he was surprised when you reached out and grabbed his thighs.
“Wait,” you whispered, your bent legs trembling on either side of him. “Slowly.”
Kakashi nodded at you, his eyes sleepy under heavy eyelids. But he was careful as he pulled out, blushing at the sight of the milky fluid dripping from between your legs. You shivered at the empty feeling and finally let your legs fall to the mattress.
Yes, the jutsu had worn off. But you looked so beautifully wrecked, he almost believed he was ready to go again.
He gently cleaned you off with the sheet, resolving to destroy the evidence a little later and leave the rest of the mission budget behind for replacement linens. It would have to be good enough; he was too exhausted to worry about a more discreet alternative.
The only thing he cared about was you; making sure you felt comfortable and safe, showing you that he meant every word.
Because he was already sure that he loved you—and when he inevitably told you sooner rather than later, he didn’t want there to be any room for you to doubt him.
Kakashi gently brushed your hair back from your warm face. You smiled up at him, nuzzling against his palm. He didn’t waste a second before leaning back down to sweep soft kisses over your cheek and neck. You giggled, then turned your head to catch his lips with your own, your fingers trailing along his sides and guiding his weight to press down into you.
Carefully, he rolled onto his side, cupping your jaw to make sure he didn’t break the kiss. You let him kiss you to his heart’s content until you eventually broke away, blushing and nuzzling into his neck.
Kakashi wrapped his arms around you. “You okay?”
“Mhmm, just worn out,” you sighed. “How about you? You alright?”
“Me?” He hugged you closer and kissed the top of your head. “I’ve never been better.”
You hummed warmly, returning his embrace and lightly kissing his collarbone. “I’m gonna be so sore tomorrow,” you guessed.
“I’ll carry you home if I have to.”
“What about the mission?”
“We learned more than enough about the jutsu for Tsunade to send a new team out here with some equipment to protect them from its effects. They’ll gather samples, and based on the way it worked, she should be able to develop an antidote.”
You snuggled closer into him, giving over to the intense wave of exhaustion left behind. “Oh, that’s good.”
“Get some sleep,” he whispered. “We’ll head back to Konoha when we wake up. And once we get back, I think I owe you a date.”
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