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★ SYNOPSIS: Tamsy never thought he'd find himself getting jealous over where you place your attention. But here he is, considering how it might be best to kill August and his body.
★ W.C. = 2,923
★ PAIRINGS: Tamsy Caines x Reader
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (you're here), Part 4
Bitter Feelings
MAJOR Spoilers for Chapter 92 of the Manga
Tamsy realizes he never understood just how loose your definition of pretty could be. He watches as you go back and forth with August, a spark of pure innocent delight, something you've in yet to show him, in your eyes,
You're completely enamored with the designer. Your entire body faces him, both your shoulders and feet pointing towards August when as he moves about. You maintain eye contact, never once shying or flinching when the man inevitably gets too loud or too close, and you stay actively involved in conversation with him despite not understanding all the things he prattle on about.
August has hypnotized you has you to the point that you've blown Tamsy off three times already for interrupting your conversation.
Three times.
The first time, you slowly weeded Tamsy out of your conversation. The second, you brushed him off. The third time, you just full on ignored him!
Now, Tamsy stands to the side like some dog left out in the rain, shoulders much stiff than they would be for some reason he refuses to acknowledge.
He's so caught up in ignoring the obvious emotion boiling inside him that he barely registers when Enjin enters the room.
It only takes a second for Enjin to get a feel of the situation. The taller man slides in beside Tamsy, resting on arm on Tamsy's shoulder with a teasing grin stretched across his face.
"Trouble in paradise?"
"I haven't a clue to what you could mean, Enjin." His voice is perfect, the tone regular, soft, without any roughness to portray his true feelings. Still, Tamsy can't help the small irritated twitch in the corner of his mouth.
He's irritated. Annoyed would be the better word. Your change in behavior bothers him, but he doesn't want to dwell on why it does or why he refuses to leave the room, leave you and August alone.
Enjin doesn't care for this though. He knows exactly why Tamsy of bothered and he isn't afraid to say it.
"Hey! You don't have to lie to me buddy. I get it." Enjin throws his hands up in a show of comradery. "You and August are pretty similar. "
"Again, I don't know what you're talking about."
Oh, but he does.
You've got a type. Tamsy learned about it from Semiu when the two of your announced your so called relationship to her.
She didn't seem all that surprised, puffing air through her nose as she looked you straight in the eye. "You sure do like 'em pretty." is what she said. "He checks all the marks."
"What marks?" He had asked, a singular brow raised and Semiu was all too happy to answer despite your plea for her to do the opposite.
Tamsy mentally goes over the list as he stares August down.
Long hair?
Check. But his is longer, definitely better cared for, and you love the two tone color of it.
During the times he actually spends his days off with you, you ask to play with the velvety strands, eyes delighted to see how the two colors mix in the braids he let's you do some times.
Lean build?
Check. Though, Tamsy is much leaner. He's got less muscle and shorter in height, but that didn't stop him from pinning you against the wall of an alleyway, now did it?
A nice face?
Meh, Tamsy guesses August has an alright face.
The younger man never really takes off his goggles, and even if he did, he'd be of no competition. To you, Tamsy doesn't just have a nice face, you think he has the perfect face. Your words, not his.
Lovingly long lashes, just the right amount of bottom lip, a labret that he toys with to drive you crazy, scars that break the symmetry of his face, contrasting the soft round-ness of his overall features in both its jagged shape and differing color; Yeah... there's no way August is winning that battle.
But Tamsy of all people knows your judgement of a person, how pretty they are, doesn't stop with just their appearance. You consider personality too.
And August is his total opposite.
The twenty year old wears his heart on his sleeves and refuses to hide anything whilst Tamsy is completely opposite in his two- faced persona.
Maybe that will pull you over to August.
"Sure you don't." Enjin barely holds back a laugh, letting out a few sputters in Tamsy's face.
Yeah, he doesn't believe him. Not one bit.
Enjin pats his shoulder.
"Just remember who's dating who, big guy."
"Who's dating who... " The thought lingers in his head as Tamsy takes a glance out the nearby window.
It's gotten late. Too late for you to go back home on your own and he sure as hell isn't losing any beauty sleep over taking you back himself.
Tamsy smiles.
What a perfect excuse.
"Ah, it looks like time has slipped by us." He leaves his perch by the wall to walk over to you and August, hands held behind his back, hidden beneath his sleeves so no one can see the tension in them, how eager he is to pry you away from the designer.
August peeks over at the window and drops his jaw.
"Damn! It's dark as hell outside!" He full on yells.
You don't seem as bothered by the sight though, only frowning slightly as you watch at the last bits of the fading sun disappear over the horizon.
"Ah, that's no good." You pout. "Arkha will get mad at me if I left now."
"Just the Boss?" Enjin quirks a brow. The second half left unsaid.
"Semiu too, but he's the worrywart! The last time I left late, he pinched my ear until it was warm... "
"Last time?"
"It was awhile ago." You hum, head tilting side to side as you think back on the memory, feet guiding you to the window. "Arkha was showing me a book and we lost track of time. I ended up having to borrow one of his shirts to sleep in."
"Did you now?" There's something dangerous in his voice Tamsy doesn't care to hide. But you pretend you don't hear it. You have to, because there's no way you off all people don't pick up on the threat on his tongue as the person who can see through his facade of niceties.
"It was really comfy! I should ask him if I can borrow one again tonight- "
"You can borrow one of my shirts." Tamsy doesn't let you finish. He puts his hands on your shoulders and pulls you from the window, pushing you towards the door out into the hallway. "Since you'll be staying in my room anyway."
He didn't ask. It's been decided and it's clear he won't argue about it. And, you make no move to do so.
The only thing you do is give Enjin and... Auggie, as you've been so quick to call him, a wave and a short goodbye before you're shoved into the hallway.
The journey to his room is silent. The only sound is your shared footsteps against the floor and eventually the click of the lock on his door as he closes it behind you.
Trapped.
He's got you trapped.
Tamsy waits a bit before speaking, watching as you explore his room for the first time with the same newfound glee you had on your face when you started talking to August.
You take your time in his space, poking around with curiosity at all his things.
Despite being "together" you've never been in his room. There's no reason for you to have been in here before now. It's not like the two of you are in an actual relationship, nothing in the physical or romantic sense.
A partnership. He uses you as an excuse to go out and you enjoy his two faced nature.
You're a pawn to be used in his plans, and you're more than happy to be that. It's strange to him, weird that you don't mind being used.
It's not as if you don't know what he does. You're the one who confronted him with the fact that he went up to the sphere and murdered Rudo's father.
You're trapped in a room with a known murderer, and all you're doing is pick around his room like a child having a sleep over for the first time. Unguarded. Unafraid even when he crowds you against his dresser; for some reason, it's driving him up a wall.
"What was that?" His voice is gruff, almost mean.
And once again, you pretend you can't hear the negative tone in it.
"What was what?"
"Don't play dumb with me." In less than a few seconds, Tamsy makes his way across the room to you. He's got you pinned against the dresser, hands bracketing your hips on either side.
It's a little awkward for you. The dresser is slightly taller than your hips, so you have to arch your back to accommodate for Tamsy's body as he leans over you, the hard edge of the wood digging uncomfortably into your back, but Tamsy doesn't care and he has a sneaking suspicion you don't either.
After all, you enjoyed when he had you up against that brick wall in the alleyway. Compared to that, this must be like a fluffed mattress.
"You're awfully close, Mr.Caines." You bring a hand up to coyly cover the delighted smile gracing your lips. "I'm getting nervous."
He scoffs.
"Excited more like it."
"Can you blame me? My favorite Cleaner swept me away to have me all to himself." Tamsy doesn't move when you play with the hair that's fallen over his shoulder. He just looks you in the eye, his own still narrowed in anger.
Your favorite Cleaner? Hah! Like he'd believe that after your little performance. Brushing him off and flat out ignoring him in favor of that loud mouth and annoying designer.
Tamsy isn't stupid. He knows you're doing this on purpose. Playing him against August as if he were your pawn and not the other way around. It's infuriating, but he can't stop himself from playing right into your hand.
"Prove it."
"More than I already have?" You muse, giggling in his face. "Isn't it enough that I keep your secrets?"
It is. Actually, it's more than enough. You've had plenty of opportunity to sell him out to the boss and Semiu. Choosing him over the people who you've called family, what is that if not clear favoritism?
But, wait...
"Secrets." Tamsy snatches your jaw in a bruising grip and he watches as your smile turns into a full on grin. "You said secrets."
You should only know one secret; the fact that he killed Rudo's adoptive father. Sure, you could also be referring to the fact that Tamsy knows how to get up to the sphere, but the grin on your face tells him otherwise.
"Did I?" You tease, knowing you did exactly that. "Maybe you heard wrong?"
"What else do you know?"
"Ah, you're too much to look at when you're angry... " You curl in on yourself, hand leaving his hair to trace the curve of his jaw as you lean in towards his face.
He can see it in your eyes, how they dart over his face with a religious fervor, over his every feature like each one was something to be worshipped, what you really think about how he looks right now.
You start with your favorite, the scar that stretches down his right side, thumb ghosting the edge of the old burned flesh, careful to not actually touch the healed wound.
Then, you slowly move back up his face. The labret that sits just below his bottom lip, the curve of his frown, the roundness of the tip of his nose, the length of his lashes, and then finally his eyes.
Too much? Yeah right. You look half drunk, a slight flush to your face, eyes creased from the elated grin that's still pulling at your mouth, teeth peeking out to bite your bottom lip.
You're giddy, happy at the sight in front of you, barely able to hold yourself back from squealing like a pig.
"Answer my question instead of acting like a school girl with a crush."
"Aw... " Your lip juts out in a pout. "You're not gonna let me enjoy this? It's rare to see you wear your actual face, ya'know?"
"..." Tamsy just stares at you, unmoving, not blinking. You only lasts ten seconds under that look, sighing as you pull yourself away from him.
"Fine fine." You roll your eyes, obviously a little miffed but Tamsy pays your attitude no mind. "I know about a little book you've got stashed away."
The watchman book, his ability to travel between the ground and the sphere, the blood of Regto staining his hands. Each secret more damning than the last.
He's sure you know more than you're letting on. You play the part of the fool well, acting ditsy and somewhat absent-minded, completely harmless to even a fly. Semiu regularly has Eishia check you for bruising or miasma poisoning, and Corvus will examine you himself.
Pulling up your sleeves, turning your head, eyes keen on any skin uncovered by cloth each time you visit. The man acts like a worried older brother, but Tamsy has always gotten the feeling that the two know you can handle yourself.
It's his own fault for getting fooled. He should've paid you closer attention, should've thought about just how you were getting those fruits you brought to the Cleaners. He should've put the dots together when Semiu didn't ask how you got hurt, when she didn't scold you for going off into No Man's Land, but she instead told you off for coming back all bruised and scrapped.
You're more than capable. Tamsy's just realizing that now, as stupid as that sounds. He doesn't know the first thing about you, but you know all his dirty little secrets.
Digging his fingers into the skin of your jaw, Tamsy pulls your face back to his, keeping you only a breath's width apart, noses just inches away from touching.
"How long have you known?"
"The right question is to ask how I know." You coo and Tamsy almost grumbles, frustrated that you're once again right.
He should be asking you about your methods. How is it you know he's living a gentle lie. How is it you know he's able to travel between the ground and the sphere. How you know he's the one who killed Rudo's adoptive father.
But he won't. He should. But he won't.
"Would you tell me, if I asked?"
"Hmm, no." He had a feeling that would be your answer. But, he didn't really want it anyway.
Just as much as he uses you, keeps you around as an excuse to leave HQ, Tamsy is also a pawn in your own game.
He should hate that.
He should be disgusted with the fact you're using him for your own perverted enjoyment, toying around with his emotions and making him feel things he shouldn't.
He should hate how he doesn't know everything you do. He should hate how he doesn't have you under his control. He should hate the feeling of your arms wrapping around his neck right now. He should hate how your nails scratch just right at the nape of his neck.
He should kill you. Find a way to dispose of the liability that openly flaunts itself in his face that is you.
But instead, you're making him want things he shouldn't.
You're making him want to pull you in closer. You're making him want to see if your lip gloss is actually cherry flavored. You're making him want to hear how out of breath he can get you, how you'll look with a mixture of your shared spit trailing down your chin.
The way you're looking at him right now, a proud mischief glinting in your eyes, Tamsy knows he's prey caught in your trap.
He should hate it. He should kill you where you stand.
But he won't. And not for the simple reason that he'd get caught or that it'd be a pain in his ass to act heartbroken over your death.
"You're too cute when you're frustrated~ " He feels how your fingers reach up and tug at the hair tie keeping his hair in check, toying with it, giving the man enough time to pull your hand way, but he doesn't.
Tamsy lets you take his hair down and you practically cheer when the length of it flows over the two of you.
"How could you ever think you weren't my favorite? Playing with Auggie might be fun, and he might kinda look like you and all, but you're so much better than him."
Right, that's where this all started. You ignoring him in favor of that shrieking designer.
God, Tamsy wants to rip off his skin remembering how he acted just minutes ago.
"You're making me sound like some jealous teenager." He hisses, placing the blame on you, but you just let out a short whistle.
"I never said the anything about you being jealous."
"-!" Tamsy practically snatches himself off of you, shoving you out of the way of the dresser so he can grab a random shirt out of it and throw it at your face.
"Just shut up and take a shower. You're getting on my nerves... "
★ SYNOPSIS: Now that you've decided to stay in Gotham, you have to find a more permanent situation that the hotel you've been staying in.
★ W.C. = 3,512
★ PAIRINGS: (Platonic) Damian Wayne & Twin! Reader
Previous Section, Part 1 (you're here), Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
Setting Up House
"Nice place... " The look the Real Estate Agent throws you is one of disbelief. It's obvious you have money from the way you dress. Not that you're wearing designer. Designer is cheap luxury. What you're wearing is quiet quality: seemingly unbranded, clean and well cared for like it's been dry cleaned and tailored to fit you perfectly.
You're loaded. Filthy fucking rich in both how you dress and walk. It practically oozes from your pores. So why are you of all people looking for an apartment in the shittiest part of Gotham City?
"Landlord said I could do month to month, right?" You look around the place one last time, checking off the list in your head.
On-site laundry, working A/C, two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a spacious enough closet. You'll only be staying for a few months until you've got a house picked out, so you don't need a whole lot of amenities.
And as for why you've chosen an apartment near Crime Alley, well, with enough crime in an area, people learn to mind their business.
Can't have the neighbors tracking when you go in and out at night, now can you?
"Yeah... " The agent nods nervously. "It's 2.3k, utilities not included."
"So about 3k a month." Not a bad deal. It shouldn't take you longer than five months to find a house and close on it. That's only 15k. Any side jobs you decide to pick up should cover all of that comfortably and give you some pocket change on top too.
You turn to the Agent, a happy smile pulling at your lips.
"How soon can I get the keys and move in?"
"A week from now."
"Then I'm sold." You'll have to extend your stay in the fancy hotel you've been shacking up in, but you've got money to burn after your most recent jobs. Enough to live off of the dividends from the bank if you kept it on U.S. soil for the rest of your life.
Reaching into your pocket, you dig out your phone and begin dialing up the only contact you have saved in it.
"You can do all of the paperwork right?"
"I'll need access to your accounts- "
"I'm paying cash."
" ...got it."
After hearing that, the agent tucks tail and leaves the apartment.
She must think you're part of a crime family or something. With how much money you've flaunted with a blasé attitude, anyone would.
That means your neighbors will probably think the same. You can't decide whether or not that's a good or bad thing yet. On one hand, people will steer clear of you and be more accommodating, on the other, you picked this area of Gotham because there's a higher population density.
The whole point is to blend in with the city's worst, and you can't do that if the majority of them won't touch you even with a 10ft pole.
You don't have any more time to dwell on it since your call was picked up.
You put your phone against your ear.
"Hello?"
"Nice of you to pick up, Mr. Wayne!" Humming, you start to pace around the apartment, already planning where you'll put your furniture. "I'd like to talk to your butler, Mr. Pennyworth. Would you be so kind to arrange a meeting between the two of us?"
"I don't mind." The man starts after a second of silence, likely surprised to hear your voice. It's been a few days since the whole debacle with Talia. He probably wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon.
He plays it off well though, the soft sound of a keyboard accompanying his voice as he speaks again in an even tone.
"If it isn't anything you'd like to keep private, do you mind telling me what you want to speak to Alfred about?"
"Nothing much." You shrug, entering the master bedroom. It'll be a tight fit, but you can at least fit a king in here without it looking stupid.
Ah, but what do you know? You've never had to really decorate a place before, hence why you're trying to call the butler.
"I wanted to talk to him about furnishing a space."
"You're buying furniture?"
"Yeah, thought I'd get an expert's opinion on how to do things." For the longest time, it was the butler who was the righthand man of both Bruce Wayne and presumably Batman.
Alfred is probably like the Library of Alexandria when it comes to knowledge given that and his advanced aged. Who better than the oldest person in the manor to ask for advice?
"You've already bought a house?" He's asking for details that you'd rather not give up at the moment. But, since you're asking Bruce for a favor, you might as well answer his questions.
"An apartment for now. I'm taking my time picking out a house."
"I see." And then there's a pregnant pause, like he's thinking over a few options in his head.
"Why don't you come and have dinner at the manor tonight?"
"Dinner? Are you sure about that?" You open the closet. It's alright, but you'll definitely have to buy shoe racks and other organizers to fit things in nicely. "It didn't go over well the last time."
" ...I was hasty to try and introduce you to everyone all at once. It's rare the whole family gets together outside of the holidays."
"Oh I'm sure. Especially with the kind of jobs you all have." Vigilantism never has had set hours. It's not like evil doers will adhere to a schedule after all. "I'd think it was hard for any of you to find the time to sleep."
"It's not too bad when everyone works together."
"Spoken like a true hero." You hear Bruce puff over your quick quip, amused. "I'll be there, Mr. Wayne. Just text me the time and I'll show up."
"Will do."
...
You're once again back at Wayne Manor. It's 20:15. Bruce told you dinner wasn't until 20:30, but a good assassin always early and a better assassin knows that being on time is late. Hence, why your pressing the call button on the buzzer.
Instead of getting one of the butlers, though, you're met with another familiar face.
"Oh, it's just you Sage." Jason says, his face barely coming up on the screen of the buzzer. "Thought it was a package I ordered."
"Aw, sorry to disappoint." You laugh. Jason's becoming a quick favorite of yours. A sense of humor, openly candid, and unafraid of your every move.
It's understandable why the other children Batman has amassed are wary of you though. Three assassins is one too many and you're too fresh off the market, not on the path of righteousness either.
"Nah, you never do that." The screen turns of and there's a notable pause. Then, the gate opens and Jason is there to greet you.
He's quick for someone his size. A product of his own training or the Lazarus Pit? You might do some snooping to find out. Or not. You haven't seen if any of your connections back in the League are any good anymore.
Something you'll have to check sooner rather than later.
"Hey, B said you were coming for dinner?" Jason gestures for you to follow him inside with a nod of his head and you do, keeping a respectable distance.
"More for your butler."
"Alfred?" He asks as he opens the front door.
"Yeah." You nod, stepping past the threshold and finally entering the manor proper. "I had a question for him. But we'll see if he actually gives me an answer. The old English Biscuit doesn't like me much."
"Alfred's just wary."
"Try hostile." You make sure to rub the soles of your shoes on the welcome mat. It wouldn't be good to give the butler another reason not to like you, not that you've given him much of one besides existing.
You've got some sense of the man's feelings.
In the absence of Bruce's blood parents, Alfred became the eventual billionaire's surrogate father, even going as far as to abandon his own flesh and blood for the orphaned rich boy.
Bruce is his son. His precious boy that keeps getting maimed by the world over and over again, never mind the fact that it's Bruce who chose to throw himself into the vigilante life.
Your existence is just another open wound that the old Englishman cannot mend.
Another child Bruce couldn't protect. A terrible secret his youngest kept. A sore that refuses to stop oozing.
The man aches for a relationship with you, but you're far from interested in playing house. You made that fact clear. All you want to do is toy with Damian's feelings for awhile and you'll use Bruce to do it. And ever the sap, Bruce will let you hurt him to have you closer, at least, as close as he can get.
Alfred's being protective. Not hostile.
"Nothing I'm not used to." You take off your jacket and hang it on a nearby coat rack, being particular in how it sits on the hook. "I like the open hostility more than how the rest of the brood tiptoes around me."
Jason stays quiet for a moment, watching you move in a way that doesn't exactly feel invasive or prying, something closer to like bird-watching maybe? You can't quite describe what he's doing, but your instincts are telling you to be wary.
He shifts his weight from one foot onto the other, putting his hands into the pockets of his jacket, shoulders lowering ever so slightly.
"You're an active assassin and we're all vigilantes. Knowing that, you still walked straight into a den of lions." Jason tilts his head and raises a singular brow. "What were you expecting?"
Ah.
"That's a great question."
You never really thought about it, everyone's exact reactions, that is.
"More fanfare?" You test the thought. "For people who go around dressing up in costumes at night, you all aren't that dramatic."
No tears or anything like that, but you were fully prepared to have a little scuffle, a tiny bit of a fight where you'd barely defend yourself and let them apprehend you, question you for a slice of time, before you made your escape.
And if things got too heated-
Well, you weren't called a dog for nothing.
No one would've died. You know better than to cross vigilantes like that. Ra's once gave you a good a scolding with boiling metal after you went and killed some small time hero.
It was an accident, a mistake that wasn't your fault. The fucker went and jumped in front of your target, sacrificing her life in place of the person who was actually worth something.
But that didn't matter.
Come hell, high water, heaven, armageddon, and even the rapture, assassins don't make mistakes.
"No one screamed. No one cried. Not a single punch was thrown... " You sigh, frowning. "It was boring."
Underwhelming.
That's the word.
It was underwhelming.
"Sorry for the lack of a reaction, kid." Jason reaches over and ruffles your hair. You could've easily dodged, but you let the man do what he wants, only mildly annoyed by the prospect of fixing your hair. "We already covered all the bases. You're not the first kid of B's to die and come back to life."
As if he's proud of himself, Jason smirks and points to himself by jabbing his thumb into his chest.
"That honor belongs to yours truly~ "
"Stealing my thunder before I could make an appearance? How mean of you, Mr. Jason."
"Please please!" Jason holds his hands up, trying and failing to hide his smile. "Mr. Jason was my father. Call me Jay."
"Fine, Jay." You roll your eyes. Yeah, he's definitely got the best sense of humor. "We should start heading to the dining room."
You show the man the time on your phone.
20:11
"I'm trying to not get on the Butler's bad side more than I already have."
"I wouldn't sweat it." Jason shrugs, leading the way towards the dining room. "Alfred will come around eventually."
"Maybe when I stay in a coffin, sure."
Jason says nothing about your retort, guiding you further into the manor and into the dining room. Bruce is already there, sitting stiffly at the head of the table, obviously early in anticipation of your arrival.
He tries to play it off, giving you a soft smile as he gets up to stand.
"Ah, you're early."
"You know how it is, Mr. Wayne." You shrug. "Being late is the difference between life and death in our line of work."
Jason snorts at your joke, clever and slightly paradoxical. Bruce presses his lips together slightly, unsure if he should find the joke funny or if he should scold you for joking about the lives he couldn't save.
The man settles on doing nothing, moving past the comment onto the next subject.
"About Alfred... " He clears his throat, eyes darting to a door you assume leads to the kitchen. "He's a bit under the weather so he's not up to come down from his room tonight."
Well, that's nothing you didn't expect. For how old the butler is, you'd think he'd come up with a better excuse to avoid seeing you.
But maybe he's being so blatant about it to be disrespectful?
Either way, you take your seat with a huff, Bruce following suit.
"It's fine. Let the geriatric patient get his deserved rest." Reaching over the table, you grab the pitcher and pour some water into the already prepared glass. It's a bit warmer than you'd like, but you make do.
When you sip the glass, you almost make a face at the taste. Not bad, but completely pleasant. There's something extra on top. Metallic? Some type of mineral? And then a touch too much lemon.
What it tastes like is deliberate. Someone did this on purpose and you doubt it was the younger butler.
"I'll just hire a consultant or something."
"Hire a consultant?" Jason raises a brow, sliding into the chair next to you. "What do you need to hire one of those for?"
"Interior design." You sip more of the tangy water. "For the house I'll eventually buy."
"They had come to ask Alfred for his expertise."
"Huh." The younger man huffs, thinking for a second before continuing. "You never decorated something?"
"Nope." You make a point to pop the p. "Never."
"Not even on your long term missions?"
"What's the point in that? It's not like I'd bring people back to my apartment."
Long term missions never lasted more than six months, and most ended at the three month mark.
Everything was temporary during those times.
Your name, past, personality, and space.
They'd all be gone, abandoned, soon enough. What was the point in settling into a random studio apartment you rented when you'd be uprooted and on to the next within a matter of months?
"Then, what about your room back with the League?" Bruce presses, leaning over the table with a hint of desperation in his eyes. The reason behind that, you're unsure of. "Damian was horrifying tidy when he first came here to Gotham, but he decorated a little."
"That doesn't count B. The Demonspawn's room still looks like it came out of a furniture catalog."
Like a catalog, huh? Weird. You'll have to find a reason to take a peek for yourself, but you put the thought away for later, circling the rim of your drinking glass as you talk.
"How my kennel looked was up to my owner's discretion." And despite your playful tone, you mean that quite literally.
It was minimalistic. Beautiful, but simple in reality.
A bed, side tables, a dresser, a wardrobe, and a trunk for your personal collection of sharp and bladed toys.
The bare necessities in a room that Ra's had specifically chose to keep you close so you'd come faster when he called for you.
You never had a choice in any matter. The old man never let you think that was something that existed, the thought of being able to pick something for yourself, or the concept of preference.
And why would you? You were called his lapdog for a reason. A possession, a tool, an animal he owned and walked around on a leash a few times.
That was your punishment more mouthing off to him in front of others.
He'd make you grovel on your knees if you had upset him enough. Crawling around on busted and bruised flesh, bleeding through your clothes and staining the floor below.
Ra's was a man who'd rather show than tell. Philosophical in ways that'd make your head ache sometimes.
But you did understand the meaning behind that punishment. He reinforced it constantly. Practically engraved it into your soul.
You'd never be rid of your one and true master even when you wish you could be.
You were to forever be his obedient dog.
Meant to, anyway.
"It wasn't something for me to think about."
Now you're faced with a life you never could've imagined. A type of freedom that never once crossed your mind.
That's nice and all, but it also means you're unprepared.
And if there's anything an assassin hates, it's being unprepared.
"The only time I made a stink was when I asked to remove the rug that was in my room. It was getting annoying to wash out all the bloodstains in it after- well, you get the gist."
"Trust me, I get it." Jason nods his head in a show of comradery, crossing his arms over his chest. "After fighting to get blood out of the bathmat for the fifth time, I switched to plastic. Way more convenient. One good rinse with the shower head and everything washes right off."
"Isn't plastic porous though? It'd retain the smell."
"Just replace it every couple of months and you'll be good."
"I see... " You take one final sip of your water.
Now that you've talked to him, you're starting to think that Jason will be better help than Alfred.
He's actually candid with you, for one. Miles above the terse and cordial way Alfred deals with you. Second, he (you're guessing here, but it's not a stretch) lives on his own.
You don't plan on having a cleaner or maid. They're just liabilities that would have easy access to what you want to keep private. So, you planned on doing all the cleaning yourself.
Now, you're not incapable of the task. You're as proficient as the average person with the bonus of knowing how to not leave behind any forensic evidence.
That said, you're nowhere near the level Alfred is at nor are you going to do the upmost to keep your space stringently tidy. It's better if you get your advice from someone who has a similar level of care (laziness) as you do.
"Jay, do you mind helping look at houses?" Might as well ask. "I don't know what to look for and I don't have the pockets of Mr. Wayne over here."
Not exactly a lie. You're loaded. Like, fuck you level of money loaded. The last job you completed a nice 2.5 million USD, and you've got plenty of savings outside of that.
You just don't want to go wasting your hard earned blood money!
"If it's money you need, then I could pay you for more information." Bruce pipes up, obviously wanting to contribute in some meaningful way.
"As lovely as that sounds," and oh does it, but you don't want to become a leak in the network. That's a fact track to never getting another job again. "I'd prefer your taste rather than your money."
"My taste?" Bruce furrows his brows, confused.
"You're a well loved socialite for a reason. You'll probably have an alright opinion."
An opinion on the more posh side. But, combine that with Jay, you get two sides of the specturm. You should be able to pick a fine enough middle ground from there.
"B's opinion is nice and all, but you should really talk to Steph. She's all about decorating, you know." Jason pours himself a half glass of water, but he doesn't drink from it yet. "Pretty sure she just browsed random houses in her spare time."
"Give me her number."
"I'll do you one better and make a groupchat with the three of us, minus B since you already have his number."
You grin and hand him your phone with your profile open.
"Fine with me."
As he adds both his and Steph's info into your contact list, he takes a sip of his water, making a face as soon as it hits his tongue.
He doesn't get the chance to say anything though.
Julia comes into the room, wheeling in a cart that had a few trays of food on top of it.
Right, you almost forgot. You agreed to come for dinner.
★ SYNOPSIS: Cassandra had never been one for too many words. Even with you, she isn't much of a talker. That was never a problem...
Until you had your first child.
★ W.C. = 904
★ PAIRINGS: Alpha! Cassandra Cain x Unspecified! Reader
★ TAGS: Omegaverse, Drabble, One Shot, Pregnancy, Established Relationship
It wasn't something she thought about until the two of you announced the pregnancy. It was at one of the routine family dinners that everyone barely manages to get to. All of her siblings, their spouses and partners, filling up the sides of the tables. Bruce, older, grey enough to notice, at the head of everything.
Things were as lively as ever, especially with the young blood of all of Cass's the nieces and nephews running about, their parents badly able to keep them in their seats long enough for Cass to say those few words important words.
"A pup." She took hold of your hand, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back as she looked at you fondly. "We're having a pup."
To say the least, the table erupted in cheers and countless congratulations. So many well wishes and promises for babysitting shared in an instant.
She was all smiles.
Was.
Dick had said something. He was taking about his experience with his gaggle of children with Kori. Light-hearted anecdotes.
"I'd to read to the pup every night. That way, they'd get used to my voice." He puffed. "I even played voicemails I'd get from B so they wouldn't get spooked by him. But, well, we all know how that goes... "
Badly. The answer was badly. Cass's thoughts dwelled on that for much longer than they should've.
In his older age, Bruce's voice has dropped. It's still has its signature velvety sound, only that the sound is deeper, something that resonates in your bones so to say.
It's no wonder all his grandchildren spook at hearing it for the first time.
Cass couldn't help but wonder how your pup would fare considering her own quiet nature.
You're the one who's pregnant, belly swelling as the months go by. It's you who the pup will know everything about. Your steady and rythmic heartbeat, your scent sweet with milk, the warmth of both your blood and flesh, but most of all, the sound of your voice.
Unlike your mate, you're not quiet in your every action. Sighing when your able to get off your aching feet, humming in delight when you finally satisfy your craving, groaning when the active little thing kicks into your ribs.
And, you talk.
More than her, at least.
They'll always be able to hear you no matter how quiet you might try to be. Where as even you struggle at times to pull words from your wife's mouth.
It must've been in her eyes, or maybe it was in the way she cradled your bump, fingers tracing gentle patterns as to not wake the pup up when they'd finally settled down enough to show you to rest.
You leaned into her, purring even though you catch the sour note in her scent.
"Worried?" You card a hand through her hair. "You're quiet."
"I'm always quiet."
"Yeah, but there's different tones to it." Twirling a loc around your finger, you give her hair a sight tug. Your own silent warning for her to be forthcoming. "The top of your chest isn't fully rising and your eyes look like Tim's when he can't crack a case for the life of him."
Ah, so you read her body language. Cass stiffens. You didn't actually hear any difference.
"I'm worried the pup won't recognize my voice."
"Really?" You pull back, brows knitted in confusion mixed with some sort of surprise. "Is that even an issue?"
"It is."
To her, at least.
Yes, the pup will know her scent. Cass may be quiet, but she isn't absent. You've joked about teasing her out of her resource guarding once you give birth.
She's always around, just two steps away right when you need her.
"You're quiet sure, but that doesn't mean the pup won't recognize your voice."
"How do you know?"
"Because they always stir when you talk." You pause for a half a second. "I think they get a little surprised, but they settle better after."
"Better?"
"I mean not bruising my ribs from the inside. They behave." You purr, curling up into Cass just as you start to drift off to sleep. "You'll see..."
It wasn't until you gave birth did she understand what you meant. Your daughter was a wiggly thing as soon as she came out, fussy even after being fed and bathed.
The nurses were at their wits ends, trying to figure out what was wrong, worried the pup had some injury they hadn't noticed yet.
You weren't bothered. Not one bit. Sat up on a few pillows, you tilt the little bundle of joy in your arms up towards Cass who has yet to say a single word this whole time.
"Go on." You urge your mate, laying your head on her shoulder. "Say hi to her."
Cass sucked in a breath, nervous. Would her voice only make it worse? Would she spook the pup and upset the little thing more?
But she couldn't ignore your ask of her.
So she did just as you told her to do.
"Hi."
And like she expected, the pup jumped at the sound. But, then she settled, calm and finally content.
"Oh." Cass hums, fingers ghosting against the baby's cheek.
She sees now.
The pup was just desperate for her attention, the assurance of her voice, a sound they had barely heard but somehow knew they needed.
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Please may I have Blue exorcist headcanons of what it would be like for Rin and Yukio Okumura to have a older sister age 20 who had experienced the Blue night incident..she was 5 years old at the time when she lost her mother. A Tamer of the same familiar as Izumo in a way and a Senior Exorcist but she carried pain of her own and she inherited Satan's flames. She held the family together when they lost Shiro and she resented her biological father for the death of her mother. She went through too much in her life..she never really talked about it but she grew up in Section 13 for a while and she hated it..felt like more like a test subject than a child despite being very young at the time. She acted more like a mother figure to the Okumura twins than a sister..even worked part-time as a Waitress to earn money too. She is genuinely a nice woman but she grew up too quickly
Shiro Fujimoto's relationship with his adopted daughter
Rin Okumura's relationship with his sister since childhood
Yukio Okumura's relationship with his sister since childhood
Yuri Egin's relationship with her daughter before her passing
Shura Kirigakure's relationship with her..she knew the Okumura sister for a long time.
Whilst this request is interesting, Rin and Yukio having an older sister who's another Nephilim that witnessed the death of their mother and the Blue Night first hand is a thought provoking dynamic; it is also very specific.
Instead of a short request of a few headcanons, a full written fanfic from the person who came up with the idea would do it proper justice.
Not so much hard rules as they are general guides.
Fandoms
Any fandom is acceptable!
If the fandom is featured in this blog's Series Masterlist, One Shots & Imagines, or Fanfic Recommendations lists ( 1 , 2 ) , then it's more likely to be accepted.
The sole exception is RPF. Any request including real people will be rejected.
Subject Matter
Smut, Fluff, and Angst is all acceptable!
Any serious topics such as abuse or dubcon/noncon are okay as long as they aren't romanticized or sexualized. Regardless of this fact, requests with these topics may still be rejected.
No Links
Just an internet safety precaution. If a link is included, it just won't be opened.
could you do Cassandra Cain with a GN reader who likes to spoil her with gifts?
Cass didn't expect you to be so giving. You spoil her rotten, really, with all the things you gift her. Clothes, shoes, blankets, handcrafts; if it's something you could get your hands on, you'd gift it to her without a second thought.
She appreciates it. Loves how visual, how obvious and proven your love for her is. She brags to her brothers when they ask where she got her new weight belt when they're all training. She floats on cloud nine when Steph asks to steal the sweater you crocheted just for her. And when someone asks her at a gala where she got her jewelry from, all she can say is:
"A gift." A proud smile on her face. "A thoughtful one."
She feels like a peacock when she flaunts your gifts, always waiting for the opportunity to do so. But your more material gifts aren't her favorites.
It's the ones that only last for a moment in reality, but fill her heart with an indescribable warmth for much much longer.
"How does it taste?" You ask nervously, fingers fiddling around with your own spool of spaghetti. "I asked my ma for her recipe, but I haven't gotten anyone to taste test it for me yet."
"Delicious." She said, licking her lips to gather the rest of the sauce into her mouth.
Cass has had your ma's cooking. She knows how the woman likes to spice her food, and this spaghetti tastes different. It fits Cass's preferences to a T: not too bland, not too powerful.
It's just right.
You changed up the recipe.
All for her.
"More than delicious." She presses a marinara flavored kiss to your lips. "Divine."
It's that thoughtfulness that's her favorite gift of yours.
The high carb and protein meals you prepare for her to eat just before patrol. The gentle and subtle floral detergent you use for the laundry. How you pull her out of a conversation she was tired of being in.
"It's getting cold." You say as you slide on a new pair of gloves onto her hands, the delicate stitching and embroidery something well known to Cass from how many clothes you've made her.
Next, your hands find their way to the collar of her coat. Old, vintage, fur lined. Yet, the style fits perfectly into her wardrobe. Something you thrifted just for her.
"I don't want you getting sick."
"I won't." She hums, enjoying the way your fingers thread through her hair to pull it out and over the scarf (another gift you personally made her), leaning towards you to place a kiss to your temple. "Not with you keeping me warm."
"Me?" You raise a brow, confused.
"You." She doesn't clarify, giving you one last kiss before picking up your bag, a gift she gave you for your last anniversary. "Come on. We'll be late."
★ SYNOPSIS: It's that time of year. Flowers are blooming, pollen is in the air, and Rin is itching to pounce on you. Regardless of something silly like the logistics of whether or not he can actually get you pregnant, it's the time to be fruitful.
Just take what he gives you and he'll be the happiest guy alive, okay?
★ W.C. = 2,385
★ PAIRINGS: Rin Okumura & His Demon Half x Rabbit! Reader
★ TAGS: Bottom Rin Okumura, C*ck*lding, Wet Dream...
A dream. Rin realizes it the second he sees you. You're a thing of beauty like always, a sight for sore eyes, breathtaking even when doing nothing. But there's something else too.
Thin fabric blankets your body, floral patterns and baby soft colors decorating the flowing surface as it sways with the breeze, leaving most of your body, the shape of it, vague and up to his imagination. The back, though, is open.
Rin's eyes trace along the tempting curve of your spine all the way down to the dip just above your ass. The space isn't empty, however...
A puff ball, a tail, twitches atop your lower back. And when he looks up at your head, there's a pair of fuzzy ears that droop when you tilt your head.
"Something wrong?" Your voice draws him out of whatever stupor he was in, melodic in the way that he's damn near desperate to get you to talk more.
Rin (barely) keeps his wits about him, shaking his head as he responds.
"N-no! Nothing."
"You're lying." He watches as your eyes narrow in distaste, body stiffening as you saunter over to him, grass crunching beneath your bare feet. "I can't have a liar as a boyfriend."
"Boyfriend?!" Now hold on now, give a guy a chance to process things! He knows this is a dream and all, but that doesn't mean you get to just say the words he's always wanted to hear from you!
It's a pipe dream of his, he knows. You're like way way way too out of his league for anything serious! As serious as you are about your exorcist work, Rin has come to learn that you love playing around, that you don't mind keeping your current, uh, situationship as it is.
That's how he knows this is a dream. A figment of his imagination, a fantasy that his sleeping mind conjured up just for him.
"Boyfriend." You wrap your arms around his neck and press your front into his, the warmth of your body just barely bleeding through your clothes. "Don't tell me you already forgot?"
"No, I remember!" Rin's quick to placate you, his hands shooting to hold your hips. Might as well enjoy this fantasy while he can. "How could I forget about being your boyfriend? I'm not that dumb!"
"It's okay if you are. I like the fact that you're kinda dumb."
Even in his dreams, you don't hold back.
Rin pouts but that only seems to please you. A smile pulls itself across your lips. It's devious. Hot as hell, but Rin knows he's looking a true demon in its face.
You run one of your hands up his neck, fingers and nails ghosting against his nape in a way that makes his spine crawl. He must be showing it on his face, or maybe you felt him tense, either way, you pause.
And then, when Rin doesn't move away, you lean into him more, continuing your way up into his hair. He feels you twirl, well, he feels you try to twirl some of his hair around your nail. It's too short to loop around more than once. But you keep at it, holding tighter and tugging just a bit harder each time the strands slip off.
"It's cute."
Rin's pout turns into a frown.
There it is. That word you always call him. Cute.
Cute is what people call puppies. Cute is what people call little kids when they have a crush on an adult. Cute is what people call guys they don't see as boyfriend material!
"You shouldn't call your boyfriend cute." He whines, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you close.
"And what should I call you?" Humming, you tilt your head, ears flopping onto his shoulder. "Hot? Handsome? The devil who stole my heart?"
"Wait... I like that last one." It makes him sound cool, like he's the one who wooed you and not the other way around (more like he was hopelessly attracted to you long before you gave him a fun of attention, but details!)
"Pathetic." A voice, Rin's, but more gruff and less kind, spoke from behind you.
When Rin looks up, he sees himself. His demon self. Blight white hair, burning blue horns and eyes, sharp teeth quirked up in a snarl, and a long tail that whips the air.
"This is why they aren't are mate yet." Demon Rin huffs in annoyance, arms crossed over his chest. "Instead of proving yourself, you beg for praise like some sort of lap dog."
"I've proved myself!"
Rin may not match you in smarts, but the best pairs are opposites, right? Sun and Moon. Light and Dark. Brain and Brawn.
That's what the two of you are. You come up with the strategies, do the research, and Rin is the muscle who carries out your plans. He's the one who takes the heavy hits and deals even worse damage onto the demons that the two of you are exorcising!
He can protect you, take up any physical burden you may have. And outside of that, he's a good cook! A provider of meals that even chef's fight over to get a taste of! And, you like his looks. Especially when he-
"That's because of me." Demon Rin rolls his eyes, talking as he starts to walk over to where the two of you currently stand. "I've always had to give you a push."
"No- "
"Tell me I'm lying."
"..."
In the church, it was his demonic half that you needed. You even pushed for it, popping the seal on the Kurikara, edged and teased his instincts until Rin tried to make you his, fuck you quiet, pliant, on the altar.
When he was teaching you how to cook, Rin could hear the demon pushing him to do more. It was what gave him the confidence to taste your skin wet with your own drool. It was what had him swallowing your whines, the air in your lungs. It had him wanting to fuck you right there, his food still in your mouth and his dick filling you somewhere else so he could finally claim you as his.
But on Halloween when it was just him, the human half of Rin, you played him like a fiddle. Sucking and biting at where he was most vulnerable, telling him to keep his hands to himself, and he did, like a good boy, he followed your orders. And by the end, he had to give himself relief because you didn't want to get messy before the party. Smiling at how miserable he looked as you left the room.
"Okay, so what?" Regardless, you kept around him. If you really didn't like his softer nature, his cuteness, so to say, you wouldn't keep coming back to him for more. "I'm just taking things slow."
"You're a demon." His other half scoffs, finally reaching the two of you. He grabs your neck with his clawed hand and snatches you out of Rin's arms, nails threatening to tear into your skin, a measure to keep you in place.
Still, you squirm at the touch. It causes one of the demon's claws to prick your skin, a small trail of blood flowing down the side of your neck.
And the white haired demon looks pleased at the sight.
He looks Rin directly in the eyes as he lolls his pointed tongue out of his mouth and licks up his mess, humming at the imagined taste of your blood.
"You don't take things slow. You just take."
In a blink, everything changes around the three of you.
Rin's flat on his ass, your kneeled over, hands on his shoulders to barely hold yourself up, and his demon half is- woah.
Woah.
Woah.
Woah.
Rin lights up something fierce when he sees his demon half thrusting inside you, the sound pornographic in every sweaty slap of skin.
"What the hell- "
"I told you to take, didn't I?" The demon goads, hands bracketing your hips and pulling you back into each thrust. "Too bad. You should've been faster."
How in the world-
Right. This is a dream. And even though his demon half kinda has a mind of its own, it's still half of him. Of course it would have dominion over his dreams.
"Y-you're asshole, ya'know!" Rin spits out, throwing a glare over you shoulder, but the demon just smirks.
"Instead of complaining, you should watch and learn. I'll teach you how to fuck properly so that our mate is satisfied when you finally fumble your way into their pants."
The demon leans over you, one hand sliding up the floral fabric covering your top to splay across your chest. Its claws toy with the neck hole, testing the strength of it before ripping it in half in one swipe., leaving a red welt from your sternum down to your navel.
"Never let them hide." It coos in you ear, nipping at and tugging at the cartilage when you try to pull away. "Makes it harder to see where you want to bite."
It pulls back and snatches up your fuzzy ears, forcing you to arch your back as it sits up fully. You scramble to keep your grip on Rin at this new angle, nails digging into his skin through his shirt, moaning unabashedly at the harder thrusts.
"And Overwhelm them." It grins when it sees how entranced Rin is, the human half giving his full attention to the way your face contorts when it hits a certain spot inside you. "Simple as that."
Rin doesn't respond.
He's stuck between a rock and a hard place.
To think he cucks himself in his own dreams. He couldn't be more pathetic. He should be ashamed of himself, furious that he isn't the one isn't the one making you moan (but it is, in some roundabout way) but he isn't.
Your moans and cries are only making him harder. The slight pinching pain of your nails digging into his shoulders is making him breathless. And the look in your eye when you call out his name.
"Rin!"
Oh, that does something to him.
He loves how pleased you sound, how fast all your smarts leave your mouth when you're fucked just right.
He sticks a thumb in your mouth to keep you from biting down and quieting yourself. More. He needs more. He wants you louder. He wants you incoherent.
He wants you stupid because of him.
But, he wants you to be like this not just when he's using all his strength to get you to obey his whims. He wants you to make yourself stupid when he's being your cute boy, your wife, following your every order to a T.
His demon half slows a bit, just enough for you to barely catch your breath to call out his name again as you finally cum.
"Rin... " It's your voice again, less pitched and definitely not breathless. The sound of it is quiet, not soft, but intentionally quiet.
One of your hands is still on his shoulder, but you're using it to shake him?
He peels his eyes open, vision bleary as he looks up at you.
" ...huh?"
"You're finally waking up. Good. Thought you'd never get up." You sigh. "Yukio wasn't lying when he said you sleep like rock."
Mentioning four eyes? That must mean-
"A mission?"
"Yeah, it's not uber urgent, but I thought we should get the jump on things by getting there early. Didn't realize you'd be so hard to wake up."
"I was... dreaming."
"Oh, I know." You puff, gesturing with a glance to his hard on that's poking through the cover which is barely giving him an ounce of decency. "You're as hard as a rock."
Rin eyes grow wide and he feels his face get hot. He sits up so fast he surprised he didn't get whiplash and he snatches up the pillow he'd been sleeping on, damn near skewering it on his stubborn pole with how hard he slammed it down on top his lap.
"J-just give me 10 minutes!" He's barely able to sputter out. "I'll be ready to head out then!"
And like he expected you to, you laugh. It's humiliating. It's supposed to be humiliating. But, for some reason, the sound makes Rin groan, a pang of arousal going straight to his dick.
He likes it, your attention, how you make fun of and toy with him even though his demon half says he should act more dominant. And, if the glint in your eye means what he think it does, and it does, you know it too.
"I haven't even teased you yet and you're already getting worked up. Let me guess... " You pause like you actually had to think about it. "Your wet dream was about me?"
"..." His silence is loud, deafening. He can't say anything to deny the obvious.
You smile. It looks innocent enough. It's fake though. Rin's got enough experience with you, being with and around you, to tell the difference.
A smile that reaches your eyes, some of your teeth peeking between your lips; that isn't your actual smile. Yours is much more restrained, softer, mind more focused on the moment that expressing it on your face.
This smile, the one you're wearing right now, is the same one he's seen you use when you need to get around your higher-ups.
It's meant to be disarming. And it is, for the most part. Just not now, not when Rin knows it means trouble.
"Don't worry." You lean in and press a quick peck to his flaming cheek. "I like the idea, you rutting against your sheets, dreaming about fucking me."
" ...you do?"
"Yeah." Your eyes leave his in favor of the tent he's still pitching in his sheets, failing to bite back the smirk, a genuine and real one, that pulls across your lips.
Then, nice and slow, Rin watches as you slip your hand beneath the pillow and grab his aching hard on through his sheets, pressing the fabric over the head down with your thumb and rolling it around enough to make the half demon let out a pitiful whine.
"Bet you'll look so cute fucking my hand."
Divider credit goes to @/saradika-graphics ( 1 , 2 ) and @/strangergraphics ( 1 )
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Hello there!! I hope ur day is goin well. I really really love kyouka so much but i barely see any fics for her :( could u write a kyouka nijiku x fem!reader? Some how word got out that kyouka was in a relationship with a female and people in the Hell Guard are shocked!! Or smtn like that idk. Thank you >_<!!! U r amazing, and keep doing what u love !
Kyouka doesn't show up much in the Manga, so this might be out of character. This will probably be tightened up when she gets more screen time.
Kyouka is all about control of information. She has to be so stringentz considering her position in the Hell's Guard and in the Nijiku Family.
The phrase the less people know, the better has taken over her work, and she's kept that same attitude when it came to your relationship.
No hand holding, no kisses on the cheek, no hugs after hard missions; she was very strict about PDA.
"I have many enemies." Was what she told you one night after you pouted about not being able to kiss her often. "It's best for us to keep a low profile."
And as a loyal vassal to the Nijiku Family as well as one of Kyouka's personal retainers, who were you to disobey her order?
(Kyouka did let you kiss her after you said that though, guilty about making you feel unwanted and something to be ashamed of)
Regardless, you were able to play off your less overt romantic gestures as the futzing as a dedicated retainer and not a lover that wishes to be kissed breathless every waking moment.
Kyouka's clothes are slightly out of place? You're already there with fingers so nimble that you don't interupt whatever work your girlfriend is doing.
Some elders in the family are hounding Kyouka about something random?
"It is time for your training, my lady." Your voice would cut through the conversation, lip jutting out in its infamous pout. "Do be considerate of this servant! I toiled over oiling your guns so that they'd be ready on time... "
Of course, Kyouka would scold you in front of the elder for your rudeness, but she'd reward you later by letting you rest your head on her shoulder in private! Or, she might even let you try a new hairstyle on her and dress her in new clothes.
"Like this, people would get confused on who's the master and who's the servant." She'd puff as you finish tying the obi around her waist.
You'd only pay her half your mind, the other part focusing on making her clothes sit in their property places.
"With our personalities, it'd make more sense though?" A playful master only kept in line by the straight and narrow servant.
It's so cliche it's a trope.
Even the forbidden vassal and master romance is a trope too. It's too fairytale for anyone to believe it would come true, and that's why your relationship is hidden so well.
No one in their right mind would think that Kyouka Nijiku would fall for her retainer that decks herself out in so many accessories that she jingles even when she breathes, would they?
Over a full year into your relationship, the elders of the family summon everyone to a household meeting.
It was a hot day. Hot enough for a person to just sweat if they were too stands outside.
The summons was given on a day you weren't serving Kyouka, so you couldn't accompany her to the meeting room. But you could run into each other on the way there, having also received a summons as a member of a, albeit unimportant, vassal family.
"Commander Nijiku, irritation will only make you feel the heat more intensely." Humming, you lightly scold Kyouka for frowning, turning the fan you had brought towards her as you quickly bow your head for the appropriate greeting.
"Instead, think of something more pleasant. The sweet kiss of a lover, perhaps?"
"You're being presumptuous." And now she's scolding you, not for talking out of line (which you are doing as your station is very very much below hers in more ways than one) but for lightly teasing her with the thought of kissing you later when the night has finally grown cold and there aren't any prying eyes or loose mouths.
"Forgive me." You put on a fake frown. "This heat is terrible enough to not have me in my right senses."
Pulling at the collar of your kimono, you just barely show off the sweat rolling down your skin.
Meetings like this require formal attire, the kind that are always more stuffy and stiff than necessary. Kyouka isn't a fan of the meetings, but she won't say she isn't pleased at seeing you dress up more than you already do.
She eyes your clothes, more than happy with what she sees.
A kimono that isn't worn completely as it should be, looser, tailored and made to be more similar to a yukata. A floral pattern with a color that perfectly matched to compliment your tone skin, the typical undergarments foregone for something else, lighter for more breathability, and flower accessories from your hair to your wrists and ankles to pull your outfit together.
A sight for blind eyes. Just what she needed to bring up her mood.
Kyouka speaks again, this time, get voice sounding less irritated than the last time she spoke.
" ...understandable." She looks back into your eyes. "Regardless, I hope you're in a state of mind where you can answer a question for me."
"Sadly, this vassal will have to disappoint you, Commander."
"So you haven't been told about the reasoning behind this summoning either." She sighs.
"No one has. The elders are being very tight-lipped." You've already reached out to your higher ranked cousins to find out more information, threatened to blackmail them and everything, but no one said anything.
There wasn't even time for you to investigate with the fact that the summonings were sent out late last night!
"There's no use in speculation." She shakes her head to free herself of such thoughts. Later, she promises to herself. "We'll find out at the meeting."
The frustration of it all makes you less your lips together in tight line, the glittering gloss you've used on them looking so perfect Kyouka is tempted to mess it up.
"Then after you, Commander Nijiku."
Kyouka holds back a laugh but walks on front of you anyway. You follow behind her, two steps behind as etiquette dictates, to the meeting room.
The walk is silent and the two of you go your separate ways when you enter, Kyouka near the head of the clan and the elders and you much much farther away.
It all starts off as meetings always do. Everyone is made to bow to the elders and then to the head of the family, and then there's some useless prattle that you never pay any mind. You're too far away to hear what is being said clearly anyway.
That is, until Kyouka abruptly stands from her seat.
"I refuse to entertain this dicussion."
Now that got your attention. She's never done this before, even when she wanted to tear some elder's head off for something you can quite remember, she never stood up in the middle of a meeting.
No one is allowed to stand before the Family head and elders, so she must be really pissed to ignore the rules of etiquette.
"Kyouka! This behavior is unlike you!" One elder huffs, old jaw so tight with tension you can see it from your corner of the room.
"Trying to force me into an arranged marriage is reason enough for my abnormal behavior!"
Oh, so this was a marriage meeting. Now it makes more sense.
If everyone knew what the summons was about, they'd rush to put on the best show so that Kyouka would pick them.
"It is not as if you have some secret lover." One of the elders growls, frustration clear on his face. "Why do you have such a strong opposition?"
You bite your lip.
Little do they know that they're right on the money.
Kyouka somehow stands taller. Proud, almost.
She isn't about to do what you think she's-
"I do."
And she did.
You close your eyes and try to pretend you aren't in the room so you don't think about what punishment the elders are going to come up with for reaching above your station.
Sadly, your thoughts are drowned out by the sound of footsteps against the wooden floor.
They're loud, damn near haunting, and definitely foreboding as they get closer and stop dead in front of you.
You know who it is. For how much you love Kyouka, you'd be able to recognize the cadence of her footsteps even amongst a crowd of people.
Her shadow engulfs your form, warm where as her gaze burns holes into the top of your head.
She's about to sign your death warrant, isn't she?
"Come." Her resolute voice is enough to get you to open your eyes and peek up at her.
And what a vision it is.
She's a thing of beauty, your girlfriend. Like an angel bathed in red, she holds out a hand to you like she's offering you salvation when it's the exact opposite.
It only gets worse when she kneels to be on your level like you're equals, because you are on her eyes, and she's showing that off to everyone around the two of you without another care in the world.
You sigh and take her hand.
"You're a wicked woman, Kyouka."
If she's willing to come out and be brazen with your relationship, then you don't seem the point in being meek and trying to hide it anymore.
Kyouka puffs as she helps you to stand, smirking when you pout.
"And yet, you still love me."
"Crazy, I know."
Kyouka keeps hold of your hand as she guides you over to where she once was, where all the actually important people of the Nijiku family sit, her other hand coming to rest on the small of your back.
The look on her face... she's proud to finally be able to show you off as hers. Those elders gave her the perfect opportunity to ward off all the flies (her words, not yours) that keep trying to woo you.
Everything just had to work on her favor, doesn't it?
"I have to refuse your arrangements as I am already in a relationship."
"Your servant? And a woman at that?" An elder scoffs. "You can keep her on the side."
"The fuck did you just say- "
"She will be my wife, not my mistress." Good thing Kyouka spoke up when she did, or you might've gotten yourself excommunicated from the clan for cursing out and beating a clan elder.
But wait... what's this about you being her wife?!
Ignoring the obvious questioning look in your eyes, Kyouka continues to talk.
"As such, I cannot go forward with your arrangements."
There was no point in arguing after that, so the elders ended the meeting and everyone awkwardly shuffled out of the room, throwing not so subtle glances and whispering not all that quietly about Kyouka's announcement.
You can only massage your temple at the thought of having to show your face to your parents later.
That's going to be one hell of a conversation.
"You're going to give me a proper proposal, with a pretty ring and I'm going to look so hot that you jump my bones."
"Of course." Kyouka hums, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek as she begins to least you back to her, well now it's your, shared quarters. "Whatever my fiancee wants."
Short Drabble on how you join the Castlevania trio as their healer and they don't realize you're the same age as them.
The trio are on their crusade to Dracula's castle. They're pretty good offensively. Defensively? Not as much. They have no proper dedicated support. It's almost an oops all DPS team with Sypha taking up whatever else is needed. And she whilst she can handle first aid just fine, she is not well versed in healing magic.
The consequences of having no healer on standby rears its head when Sypha takes a nasty hit to the hands. An alchemical burn that has her screaming for her every waking moment until she eventually passes out. The only way to fully treat the wound is with magic, and neither Trevor nor Alucard know the right spells.
It goes on for days. Sypha's voice gets hoarse from all the screaming and she barely has any energy left to cry. Alucard tries some of the poultices he remembers his mother using on her burn patients. And Trevor, well, he's the lookout.
That is, until what Trevor describes as an old bag meanders towards their cart parked on the side of the road.
They're hunched over, one wrist resting on the small of their back and their other hand holding a large cane seemingly made out of bone. White hair spills from around the skull they wear as a mask, face shadowed by bone and paint, clothes no more large scraps of fabric stitched into rough shapes.
A witch.
Trevor clutched his whip.
"We don't want any business."
"I ain't selling nothin' " Humming, you keep your slow pace towards the cart. "Just curious."
"Curious?" Trevor furrows his brows.
"When you've been around as much as I have, you can sniff out alchemy like a trained hound. It's got this twinge to it that burns the hairs in your nose."
"Hold on." The Belmont steps in front of you just as you reach the cart. "Do you know how how to heal alchemical burns?"
"I do."
And that's how you ingratiated yourself into the group. You healed Sypha's hands and they asked you to stay on as their dedicated healer. It wasn't like you had anything else important to do.
The journey to Dracula's castle, more so, the journey of actually finding the damn thing gave them time to ask you questions. The first thing you were asked, courtesy of Trevor's blunt nature, is what an old bitty like you was doing on the road.
Sypha did scold him, telling him that he should respect his elders, but you laughed.
"I'm older than Dhampir, sure, but I'm nowhere near being called an elder."
That was their first hint as to your looks being deceiving. The second was when a vampire snuck through the front line hitters and made its way to you. At that time, none of the three had seen you do any physical combat. The most you'd done was a few offensive spells.
But you didn't have the time to execute a spell this time. So what did you do? Did you dodge? Did you tank the hit? Did you try to cast a spell anyway?
No.
None of that.
You fucking sucker punched the vampire.
"How in the seven hells- "
"What? Just because I can't straighten my back doesn't mean I can't throw a good punch."
"No... " Alucard looked on in astonishment. "I think there might be a correlation."
Their next hint was how youthful you were. You drank like Trevor whenever the group came across a tavern. Excluding your back, you kept up with Alucard in terms of speed in battle. And then whenever Sypha started talking about literature and stories passed through the Speakers, you listened in and kicked your feet like a little kid.
All of their suspicions came to a head after you took a nasty hit to the side during a particularly chaotic fight. It had you laid out on the ground like a corpse. The other quickly finished up the battle and rushed to your side, but you shot up like a geyser, back straight, a wide smile stretched across your cheeks.
"By the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit!" You cried out, tears of joy streaming down your face. "My back! My back!"
"What about your back?!" Sypha, frantic, pulled up your clothes to check it for injury. And whilst she does see a large bruise on your side, what really catches her attention is your skin.
It's not torn or anything like that. It's smooth. Unblemished. Not wrinkled or thin from age.
It's youthful.
"It's fixed!" Standing up, you start stretching and moving like they've never seen you move before. Front flips, back flips, back bends, cartwheels: It is a sight.
When you finish, you stand taller than they've ever seen you stand.
"Ooh, who knew all it took to fix my back was getting sideswiped by a floating skull?"
"Wait... " Trevor looks you up and down. "How old are you, exactly?"
"Uh, like 25?"
"25?!" They all yell out.
"Could be a little younger. I, honest to God, don't remember the year I was born."
"So you're not in your 80s?" Alucard looks you up and down.
You scoff. "Fuck no. I'm crossing my fingers that I even make it to 30."
"Then, sorry for saying this- " Sypha clears her throat. "Why do you sound so old? And what's up with the white hair?"
"Oh that... " You take off your mask, shaking your head and tousling your hair once its free from its confines.
You've never taken the skull off the whole time you've been around the trio. It's got a couple of enchantments carved on the inside for protection and whatnot, so you keep it on for safety reasons.
Now that you think about it, that means none of the trio have seen what your full face looks like. No wonder they thought you were some decrepit old thing!
"A side effect of one of the enchantments on this thing is changing the air in it. That made my voice sound different. The white hair is from a spell I fucked up when I was like, five."
"And your back?"
"From a different spell I fucked up." You pause. "Got my back blown out in the fun way and tried to fix it with a healing spell. Those types of spells are complicated. Real easy to mess up, y'know?"
can't forget though,,, Jabber's sibling becoming obsessed with Zanka. (he's cute and has a hot voice, that could be the reason or any other, doesn't matter), now he has two of these rabid freaks obsessing over him, wants him carnally one way or another.
Maybe Jabber's mad about it, but maybe it's just a competition. Either way Mr. Bad Attitude is clutching his lovely assistaff while those two drool (literally) over him in a fight.
Also he does NOT want to think about or comes to terms with Enjin's question of if he's into any of that.
Zanka who likes to go out sometimes on his days off. He'll catch a ride off of August, hopping onto the back of the older man's bike and hoping his eardrums stay intact until the two get to town.
Zanka who know makes sure to greet Miss Alice every time because he was raised with manners unlike a certain spherite.
Zanka who enters Alice's clinic to find the old woman patching a pretty thing up.
"You're always coming in here half torn up!" Alice yelled, wrapping up your mangled arm in gaze. "I'm getting paid and all, but even I'm startin' to get concerned!"
"I'm fine Miss Stilza! You'll make me good as new, right?"
Zanka who physically flinches as the gauze tightened around your irritated wound. It weeps something clear, but you make no indication of being hurt.
Zanka who's introduced to you by Alice. Her Best Patient, she calls you. August clarifies that it just means you keep coming back and always pay your bill.
Zanka who decides to ask you how you got your injury, thigh torn open by something that looks to have been sharp.
"My brother." You shrugged, jumping off the cot and not even wincing when your feet meet the ground, twirling once you caught sight of your bandaging in the nearby mirror.
Zanka who freezes up.
"Sorry. That was insensitive of me- "
"Oh it's nothing bad!" You laughed. "He's just a little rough is all!"
Zanka who doesn't believe you, so he insists on buying you a meal as an apology. What else could he do for a stranger he thinks he offended?
Zanka who finds you weird. You have the manners of someone high class, eating very cleanly and having good manners, but the way you talk is very different.
"You've got such a nice face!" You said, cutting up some meat with a knife with a precision that even his eldest sister would admire. "My brother says that the better the face, the better it'll looked messed up."
"Messed up?"
"Bloody." You sipped your drink, never once making a sound as you drank it. "Cut up, bruised, swollen. He's a real freak, but he's a good brother!"
Zanka who again, doesn't believe you. He knows you can tell, but you do nothing to really correct his views.
How could a guy who leaves you shredded up like cheese be a good brother? Even with his own familial troubles, he couldn't see it.
Zanka who regularly runs into you every time he goes into town. He makes sure to stop and talk to you, interested in how wacky you are, but always more worried about whatever new injuries you have.
"You have ta slow down dammit!" He huffed, having finished chasing you through tight twisting alleys and what seemed like neverending stairwells. "Ms. Alice told ya to take it easy so you don't irritate your wounds!"
"If you're scared of pain, you'll never get stronger!" Ah, he couldn't deny that, not could he deny the warmth that fled his chest when he saw you against the night sky, the should of your giggling like much needed music to his ears.
The boy sighed, shaking his head as he came to stand beside you as you say on the guard railing that lined the edge of the roof.
Despite all the bandages, all the injuries and torn skin that barely hid beneath white gauze, Zanka would say you were a sight for sore eyes. Beautiful, handsome, he could never quite find the word to describe you.
"The way you're going, your gonna end up in an early grave." He paused, looking down at your wrapped feet.
He'd seen some of the damage when Alice was patching you up.
What little he saw was nasty work. Maybe not grotesque, but mangled could be good. Bursted flesh and torn nails. He wonders how you managed to run on those things without ever one hinting that you were in pain.
Part of him thinks you can't feel it. But the rest knows that isn't true. You're just used to it, used to injuries that would have a grown man begging for death, all because of that brother of yours.
"You should take me up on that offer."
"And leave my brother? No thanks." You lifted your feet into the air, twirling them at the ankle and watching how the bandage bed to accommodate the movement. "He's precious to me. Why would I leave him when he just loves me a little too much?"
"Treating you like a piece of meat at the butcher's isn't loving you too much." Zanka hisses. "He wouldn't hurt you if he actually loved you."
"To make meat better, you have to beat it tender, right?" You hum. "No pain, no gain. If you're too busy being a scary cat, you won't get nothing! Watch."
Then, you threw yourself backwards and Zanka had to rush to grab you up by the ankle so you wouldn't plummet three stories down to the hard concrete.
His breathing way heavy. His heart was in his ears. His eyes were wide.
"Are you crazy?!"
"I would've survived." You shrugged, mischief glinting in your eyes, something Zanka both loved and hated to see.
"Yeah, " He huffed, pulling you back up to safety. "With the majority of your bones broken!"
"But I would've lived." You stand firm on that fact. "The crazier a person is, the stronger they usually are."
Zanka who sighs but doesn't stop you too much. Your willful and reckless abandon is part of your personality. Trying to change that would be like trying to change a fundamental part of you.
Zanka who rants about the Raider who keeps getting on his nerves to you. You're his only friend outside of the other Cleaners, and sometimes he wants to talk to someone outside of his coworkers.
"He's a real freak!" Zanka practically growled at the thought of Jabber. "Obsessed with fighting and gettin' hurt!"
"That's spooky! He must be pretty strong if he's giving you trouble." You say, legs kicking in your chair as you sip your drink, a subtle smirk on your lips.
"He is." As much as he hates to admit it, Zanka does think Jabber is unreasonably strong. "He's so strong that it pisses me off."
"I'm sure you'll get stronger than him in no time!"
Zanka who talks to you more casually, even swapping blood so that the two of you can contact each other whenever you want. Most times, he'll call you up after a mission, never giving too many details, but more than happy to talk with someone outside of his job about anything else.
When he hasn't seen you in awhile, he'll ask if you have any new injuries. Most times you don't, but when you do, you explain in detail how your brother has abused you again.
"We were playing tag and my brother got a little heavy handed... " You sighed and Zanka could hear the pout clear in your voice. "Now I can't lay down on my back for a week!"
"Wait, why can't you lay down."
"Oh, he sliced open my back a few times so I have to lay on my stomach until I heal up."
"I'm going to murder your brother one of these days."
"Hah!" You laughed. "That'll be a sight to see."
Zanka who tells you when he'll be going off on a mission since he doesn't want you calling when he's in the middle of fighting an enemy. Can't give them any details on his loved ones encase they're the vengeful type.
Zanka who gets surprised when you tell him that you'll be going on a trip that happens to overlap with his next mission.
"I'm sure we'll see each other again soon." You said, but he didn't actually understand what you meant by that.
Zanka who finds you being chased around by Jabber, begging for the dreadhead to leave you alone.
"Ms. Alice told me that she'd upcharge me more if I came in within a month of my last visit!"
"Ah come on! You really gonna listen to some old bag instead playing with your favorite big brother?"
"You're my only brother!" You cried, wiggling in Jabber's grip when he finally catches you, not even flinching when his Mankira scratches up your sides.
You quickly escape though, and run behind Zanka for protection.
The boy just stands there clutching the Lovely Assistaff, shocked.
"Mr. Dread Head Raider is your brother?!"
It kinda makes sense, the masochist being your brother. Jabber always leaves Zanka half-dead after his fights, but he didn't think the Raider would be so rabid with his younger sibling too, even outside of fights.
You didn't seem all that scared of Mankira, like seeing that beast of a weapon was something that was normal for you, like it was just an extension of your brother. And knowing how much Jabber flaunts it in their fights, Zanka can see why you'd be like.
Now he believes you when you say your brother loves you just a little too much.
Any attention, any love, from Jabber is probably steeped in pain.
Wait... does that mean the dread head loves him too?
"Sorry I didn't tell you." You frown, hiding your face in the crook of his spine, the feeling of you through his clothes enough to make Zanka stiffen. "Jabber said it'd be a funnier if you found out this way."
"You lyin' on me now?" Jabber sucks his teeth and shakes his head. "We both know damn well it was you who wanted to wait it out. Somethin' about seeing the look on his face- "
"All I said was that Zanka looks cute when he's shocked!"
"Nah, you also said somethin' about wanting to see him struggle in a fight. But maybe I shouldn't say that in front of your crush."
"This is why you have no friends, Jabber!" You yell from over Zanka's shoulder. "You're an asshole!"
Zanka, who's still stuck in a stun lock, mind barely processing anything that's happening.
It's just his luck to get stuck between the freaky Dread Head and his less crazy, but still got a few screws loose, younger sibling.
"I really can't do this right now." Zanka runs a hand over his face, gritting his teeth as a single thought floats around in his head.
Why is he kinda into both of you even after finding out about all of this?
Fandoms Included: Batman, Call of Duty, Genshin Impact, Jujutsu Kaisen, Original Works, Supernatural, The Pitt…
Last Updated - 04/04/2026
Dragon’s Treasure - Dragon Prince x Reader
By monstermeat666
"A student of alchemy and ancient occulticate practices, you are the only human attending a prestigious university dominated by monsters, with Dragon shifters sitting at the top of hierarchy. Already being an object of curiosity, it’s no surprise you somehow manage to attract the Dragon Prince’s attention and lust- much to your irritation."
Jaguar Hybrid Bf x Reader
By monstersholygrail
HAVE THE EMPEROR'S BABY?! - Alpha! Emperor & Omega! Concubine x Omega Knight! Reader
By awawage
Yandere 1920s Imagines: Parlor Maid - Yandere Socialite x Fem Maid Reader x Yandere Nobleman
By yandere-writer-momo
Yandere Short Stories: Den of Wolves - Yandere Mobsters x Waitress! Fem Reader
By yandere-writer-momo
imagine damian wayne who plays the normal child card every time he’s outside of the wayne manor (yet his vocabulary and manners far exceed the one of a child) — compared to you, an actual normal and silly child if it weren’t for your mind reading abilities.
By kumasakka
Secretary - CEO! Damian Wayne x Secretary! Reader
By clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm
A Kiss, For Luck - Batboys x Lipstick Using! Reader
By kay-imma-head-out
Strawberry Secrets & Sweethearts
Part 1 , Part 2
By ilunaako
"damian wayne hates strawberries, so why does he suddenly love them?"
"meeting damian wayne's family after a few months of dating."
「 OBSESSIVE FIXATION 」 - Damian Wayne x Reader
By damselneedssaving
"You just got your nails done, and Damian is obsessed with the feeling of them scratching against his skin."
vow to be yours. - Damian Wayne x Fem! Reader
By fawnindawn
"you're convinced your betrothed, damian wayne, despises or at most—tolerates you for the sake of his duty. it takes only one moron to try and steal your hand to prove that damian takes the promise of being your future husband as a role he will never let anyone else fulfill."
The Day Before: Batfamily Proposal Accident - Batboys x Reader
By jellyfishsthings
how gojo makes love vs how he fucks
By megumour
satoru respects your celibacy, differently - BSF! Saturo Gojo x Virgin! Reader
By sakuami
higuruma with a sweet, oblivious wife who always writes small encouraging messages on sticky notes before signing them off with a prominent red kiss mark on the paper and sticking it onto the inside his briefcase.
By getoville
Earl Grey & Cucumber - Dark Alpha! SatoSuguShoko x Beta! Reader
By envy-of-the-apple
"Your favorite junior asks if you could find a mate for her pack."
Business Proposal - Yandere! Gojo, Nanami, Sukuna, & Toji (Separate) x Reader
By sapph22
"Your family sets you up with potential husbands….. rich, influential JJK men… for a business marriage. You try to scare them off by acting weird but it backfires… and now you have 4 men obsessed with you."
𝓐 𝓥ERY 𝓡OYAL 𝓡EVERSE 𝓗AREM 𝓢TORY - Alpha! JJK Men x Omega! Fem! Reader
By epicderpface
"a pack of alphas stumble upon the princess running away from her betrothed. instead of sending her right back to the crown, they begin to take a liking to her."
King! Ghost x Queen! Reader
By dante-mightdie
Meal Sharing - König x Reader x Simon
Part 1 , Part 2
By iridreams
"taking turns being eaten out by König and Ghost"
Alpha! TF141 x Neglected Omega! Reader
Part 1 . Part 2 , Part 3
By beloveds-embrace
Line-Up - Alpha! TF141 x Omega! Reader
Part 1 , Part 2
By ladykelsi
you cannot stop staring at lieutenant riley's tits.
By beebymoonlight
Omega!Soap finds Omega!Reader for his pack
Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4...
By mousy-muses13
Imagine being soaps partner, and deciding to start going to the gym, build some muscle, right?
Alpha! John Price x Omega! Reader who's scared of mating bite
By rawme-price
FUCKED BY THE FATUI! — STAMINA RATELIST
By kzrosa-writes
"fatui male harbingers smut headcanons w f!reader , ranked from highest to lowest stamina (headcanon) | includes all male harbingers except pulcinella."
PAVLOV'S WHITAKER - Coworker! Dennis Whitaker x Fem! Reader
By missmanlykink
"out of curiosity, you see if you can classically condition your cute co-worker using snaps and swedish fish–spoiler: you definitely can. "
Please picture how Dennis Whitaker crumbles the moment you start using pet names for him
By scarletttries
bf!dennis whitaker who gets marked up by reader for the first time and it’s a lot.
By missmanlykink
“Oh! My ring… It’s kind of a funny story. I uhm.. I’m not actually married.” - TF141 x Bartender! Reader
By devil-in-hiding
all the nights (and the days too) - Dean Winchester x Reader
By lunexiax
"You got the wrong end of the stick with Dean. He clearly wants sex from you and nothing more. (Except that's not actually true, is it?)"
⋆✶ ˚｡⋆ Demolition Lovers. - Dean Winchester x BSF! Reader
By sacr1ficialang3l
"Dean always thought the end of the world would come with exploding suns and the walking dead—not in the shape of his best friend suddenly flirting with him."
Beard - Dean Winchester x Reader
By midnightfragment
"You spend weeks shamelessly begging Dean to grow a beard — armed with increasingly horny “scientific” reasons — until he finally caves. Two months later you’re straddling him, stupidly happy, shamelessly admitting the beard made him 100% hotter… and he’s never shaving again."
Dean discovering you used to be a Playboy bunny!!
Dean having an obsession with thongs - Dean Winchester x Reader
By midnightfragment
thinking about dean winchester with an awkward, "weird" partner.
sick!dean headcanons . . .
Intimacy with Dean
By andmeiamherdagger
˖ ꫂ᭪ ֗ full focus ✿ - Munch! Dean Winchester x Reader
By flwrlea
how supernatural character's react to your first orgasm in their lap
how supernatural character's react to you sitting on their lap
Damian and Talia have been keeping a secret from Bruce. A white lie to save him a pain they've both seen him shattered from.
Damian wasn't an only child. He's a twin.
Was a twin.
Navigate the complex relationship of being the child, the past and hurt, your mother and brother were all to happy to burry.
Includes Platonic Damian x Twin! Reader
Like A Library
The Bats are all smart in their own way. It's only right they get someone on their level, right?
Follow as each one of the Waynes fall in love with Sphinx! Reader
(Includes Bruce, Dick, Jason, Cass, Tim, and Damian)
A Demon's Quest for his Mate
Rin Okumura isn't the brightest. So, confessing his feelings and making you his partner (or mate, as his demon half argues) takes an embarrassing amount of time and sexual encounters to do.
See how the eldest spawn of Satan and a human woman, Rin Okumura, fumbles his way into your heart.
Pretty Little Thing
Tamsy gets curious about you, the ditsy little thing who brings the Cleaners fruits every now and then.
If only he knew how much he'd end up liking you.
Watch as Tamsy becomes fascinated in the fact that there's someone out there just like him, manipulating others with a false facade in order to help them grow to their greatest heights.
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