kaylor @lunakayloy - Tumblr Blog

of course, angels are real. she exists

𓏵‧₊˚ ┊one piece men x fem!reader | masterlist

wc ; 200-500 each approx. | 2k total

tags ; fluff / angel!reader

characters ; sanji / trafalgar law / monkey d. luffy / roronoa zoro / captain koby / dracule mihawk / killer

requested ; hello dolly !!! so happy to hear that ur reqs are open again :) could i please request one piece boys (you choose) x reader who has angel wings and a halo? like, would they find it cool? how would they help her clean her wings since they’re kinda big? are they touchy with her wings? etc! u can write any scenario you want of course!! i’m just adding options to help you if u don’t know what to write. tysm for reading <3

a/n: i kept thinking about sua cus i was listening to heart by c!nah while writing these. you can tell i kinda went overboard with mihawk...

zoolilz

Law who helps you with your insomnia by fucking u to sleep hmmm

You had been ridiculously bad at sleeping lately. Which is weird, because usually that’s all you’re doing. You love a good nap! You love sleeping in! But your body doesn’t want you to lately for some reason.

You were also one of the strongest members of the crew after all— so you needed your sleep!

This insomnia had gotten so bad that you ended up taking a huge injury in a recent fight— a celestial had ordered their slave to try and kill you, and in trying to not harm the poor slave, you ended up gaining a huge gash in your abdomen.

Law spent a couple hours making sure that your gash was properly closed— it was irritated from you stumbling back onto the ship, the weapon you got hit with was also rusty… just a generally bad equation.

“You wouldn’t have let this happen a couple weeks ago.” He muttered as he finished stitching up the gash. “Meet me in my room later. You should be good to walk by then.”

That scared you a bit. Sure, you were half conscious from the anesthesia, and seconds away from falling asleep, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit flustered at his words. He never let anyone come into his room like that, he was always making some stupid plan, or researching something he needed focus for— what was so special that your broody, tattoo’d, really hot captain would need you to come into his room?

You walked into his room after you woke up. it was late, everyone else was asleep, and the quiet was starting to scare you.

It didn’t get better once you got closer to his room, because… he was also very quiet. All the time.

Once you walked in, you noticed a couple things instantly— the candles lit up on his desk, how many comics he owned, and the fact that he was in sweatpants and a tank top. This was weird. You hadn’t even seen him without his hat on in ages, so sweatpants was… almost scary for you to see

“Captain?” You said softly, making him glance over his shoulder as he finished marking something up on his journal.

“Hey.” He muttered, gesturing for you to come closer to his desk. “Got somethin’ for you to check out.”

Once you did, you noticed his most recent journal pages— a study on your sleep cycles, what could possibly be causing your insomnia, and possible remedies.

It was a bit hard to focus when he was so close, but you scanned through the remedies, noticing melatonin, (which you’d tried— you stole some off the last island. He didn’t know that though) reading, (boring) and… sex?!

You were a virgin.

You were pretty sure he knew that. Asshole.

“Law.”

“Yes?” He muttered, a slight smirk on his face as he stared down at his journal.

“You think… sex would help?” You asked bluntly, although your voice grew a bit softer as you asked the question, your face flushing.

“The general intimacy of sex triggers neurotransmitters in your brain that can reduce stress and promote relaxation.” He said, picking up one of his medical books and meticulously turning to a certain page, showing you the evidence he found. What a nerd.

“Did you go and look for sex as a remedy hoping I’d allow you to have sex with me?” You teased, smiling up at him.

“…that would be unprofessional” He said, putting his book down, crossing his arms.

“Suggesting sex to your shipmate is unprofessional.”

“It would help you sleep. It’s a biological function.”

“You swear it would help me sleep?”

“I swear.”

Maybe it was the way that he looked over at you, like he really was sure that it would help you— or maybe it was the way he looked in general, or maybe the way he smelled, that fuckass cologne.

It was really just the sleep deprivation.

But you agreed.

Which is how you ended up on his bed, him gently kissing your neck as he laid facing you, one of his hands moving under your shirt.

“Your injury is healing well.” He muttered against your skin, his hand moving up to your chest, squeezing the skin.

“R-read the room.” You fussed, your back arching as he squeezed your chest. He just smiled against your neck.

“The room that I invited you into?” He said, his other hand moving to peel off your shirt, kissing down your skin.

“Mhm. You shouldn’t talk about my injury like that, it still hurts.” You muttered, looking down at him as he started to kiss your chest.

“Still?” He muttered as he unfastened your bra, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. You weren’t able to say much, the way he sucked on your tit was already flustering enough.

“That’s what I thought. Can’t focus much on it now, right?” he muttered against your skin, spending just a bit too much time at your chest before he moved down to your stomach, adjusting you so that he was able to kiss down your body while you were on your back.

“Your physique has always impressed me.” He said into your stomach, kissing the skin. “Your diet is quite… bad, yet you’re still pretty strong.” he followed with taking off your shorts.

“My diet is not bad.” You said, your hands in his hair, earning a low hum from him.

“It is.” He replied, pinning your thighs down so that he could tease the skin, kissing your pussy through your panties.

“It’s— nngh—“ you mewled out, attempting to clamp your thighs shut, clearly undermining how determined law was to eat you out.

“Relax.” He said bluntly, casually ripping your panties off, cutting your whining short by saying quickly after, “I’ll buy you better ones. Cotton.” And then moving his hands back to the back of your thighs.

“Can’t believe you were a virgin with a pussy like this.” He muttered, spreading your folds open before licking into your pussy, his tongue instantly starting to fuck into you, his nose brushing against your clit. “So sweet.”

“You made me eat all that p-pineapple, so—“

“That’s because I was planning on doing this for a while.” He said bluntly, continuing to eat you out.

“What?”

“Later.” He said as he sucked on your clit, pulling a moan out of you. “You sound so pretty.” He mused, pinning your thighs even further back. “Could stay here forever, fuck.” He said, his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed as he ate you.

“Law, ‘m gonna—“

“I know.” He cut you off, continuing his feast. “God, I really don’t wanna stop.”

“How does that even work?” You huffed out, biting back a moan as you looked down at him. “Y-you said we’d—“

“I know what I said. This is sex.” He muttered, sticking two fingers inside of you, curling them, making your back arch.

“I thought you were a v-virgin too, liar.” You mewled out, squirming under him as he curled his fingers just right. “How do you know about— about all this?!”

“I am.” He said as he continued to finger you, kissing your clit. “I‘ve just done my research.”

You came not long after he said that, already boneless on his bed before he even took his pants and shirt off, making you swallow.

“I’m not that big, but—“ liar. “It still might be a bit much for your first time, so I’ll go slow.” he said as he teased your entrance with his fingers, gathering some of your wetness, coating himself.

He was about, what— 7 inches? He was curved, fairly thick, looking at his length made your heart beat a bit faster. How was that supposed to fit in you?

“Don’t be nervous.” He said, his voice growing softer as he met your eyes. “You can take it.” He said as he lined himself up.

You were able to take it. “It” being about two inches before you felt the stretch, your bottom lip quivering.

“I know, I know.” He cooed, slowing down, kissing your neck. “It’s almost all the way in.” He said as he put another two inches in, holding onto your waist.

“Law, it’s too—“

“Shh, shh.” He muttered, stuffing you the rest of the way, making you gasp. “It’s done, okay sweet girl?” He said, looking down at your waist to see you bulging right below your belly button.

You were so full— you could barely think with how deep he was, and it didn’t help that he was still holding onto your hips and stopping you from squirming around.

You pouted, still attempting to move a bit. “It’s uncomfy.” You babbled out.

“It won’t be for much longer.” he muttered, burying his head in the crook of your neck, trying to ignore your clenches around him, one of his hands moving to rub your clit.

You moaned, your back arching. “Good, good. Just breathe.” He muttered against your jaw, kissing the skin.

After a while, you became restless, sopping wet around him as he still held back from moving. “Please move.” You whispered, your hands in his hair.

“Thank god.” He replied, starting to roll his hips into yours, feeling you clench around him with every thrust.

“Fuck, this pussy is so good—“ he moaned out, holding your hips, pulling you to meet his thrusts. “Please let me do this again after this.” He muttered, a slight whimper to his voice.

“D-did you—?”

“Shut up.”

“You whimpered.” You smiled, acting like you had any room to tease him, given that you were seconds away from coming again.

He just huffed, biting down onto your neck as he gave you a particularly hard thrust, making you choke out a moan.

“Not so funny now, hm?” he teased, smiling against your neck as he continued to thrust into you, a small whimper leaving his lips as he felt your hands dig into his back, his shirt lost somewhere on the floor.

“It’s a little bit f-funny.” You said, your back arching off the bed as you got closer.

“It’s gonna be funny when I stuff you full of my cum.” He huffed against your neck.

“Like it’ll do anything anyways, I’m sure your nut is too weak—“

“Wanna test it?” He muttered, moving so that his lips were right above yours as he huffed out a laugh. “I could come inside you right now.”

“You’d lose your strongest fighter if you got me pregnant.” You muttered against his lips.

He shook his head, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I’d take care of you. Wouldn’t— wouldn’t let you go. ‘Specially if you had my kid.”

“You’re so soft, law.” You said, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, to which he reciprocated, opening his lips enough for you to devour each other, one of his hands moving up to cup your jaw, still rolling his hips into yours.

“Where do you want it?” He muttered against your lips.

“Stomach, stomach this time.” You muttered before you kissed him again, coming right before he did, watching as he spurted ropes of come onto your stomach before he fixed your jaw so that you’d continue kissing him.

And you gotta say, you did sleep well after he cleaned you up.

—

A/n ok aw short cute

loverrin

| AS PER USUAL | RED-HAIRED SHANKS

summary: your captain, emperor of the sea shanks, has gotten awfully used to sleeping in your room. despite your feeling of comfort with him around, you can't help but find it a little weird. when interrogating your fellow crewmates, all they do is laugh in your face. pairing: crewmate! reader / shanks wc: 3k tags: fluff, a little bit of crack because the red force is a generally jubilant crowd of dudes when they're not doing... uh... yeah! f! reader, set POST PARAMOUNT WAR, shanks in ur bed, sassy reader, slight miscommunication, reader and beckman are best friends, beckman loves to piss you off, suggestive undertones, reader is oblivious, shanks is teasing, shanks is a yearner (i'm talking DECADE LONG yearner) a/n: it took me 3 months to catch up to one piece start to finish and now i'm waiting on weekly eps. i feel like a fat chud

You blinked at Beckman from across the table, outstretched hand hovering over your tea. "You're serious?"

"Yup." The first mate of the crew replied, sipping his coffee and reading his paper.

"You see nothing wrong with the fact that our captain seems to end up in my bed in the middle of the night, and stay there until morning?"

"Nope."

"He acts like it's normal, Beckman." You hissed, snatching his paper from out of his hands.

He blinked confusedly, finally meeting your eyes as he searched for his paper and evaluated how to get it back. After a pause, he sighed, folding his arms over his chest. "Well, it is, isn't it? How long's this been goin' on?"

"Like. A month."

"Yeah." He huffed, gesturing for his paper back. "So it's normal by now."

"Fuck you." You snapped, flinging the paper overboard. He gaped indignantly, watching his source of news soak in seawater, now unreadable. "You know this isn't normal."

The first mate picked up his cigarette, inhaling deeply before blowing out - straight your way, knowing that it would make your eyes water. You coughed indignantly, hand violently waving in front of you. "It wasn't normal to start with. It definitely is now. Go around and ask anybody if they're surprised when we see him stumble out of your room in the morning."

Beckman paused, watching you gnaw on your lip. You could practically see the gears grinding in his head, his mind contemplating whether he should really push your buttons when you're already this agitated.

Well. Benn Beckman sure was good at appearing as the patient, relaxed first mate of the Red-Haired Pirates. Unfortunately for you, he also really loved to see you irritated.

"What isn't normal is the fact that according to you, nothing's happened." He shrugged, sipping his coffee.

Your eyes snapped upwards, eyebrows furrowed at the implication. Beckman swore he felt the heat rising.

He kept pushing anyways. "One whole month of lying in a little ship's quarters, hip to hip? I know you, drinking buddy. You don't sleep with pants on."

You seethed, a vein practically popping out of your forehead. You should've known it was a mistake to get into the habit of drinking late at night with Beckman. A whole decade of friendship. That's how he got you - play the calm, quiet friend in the corner and let you whisper all your secrets to him. Then of course, he'll play in your face later down the line.

"And you run warm." He continued, puffing on his cigarette. "Sometimes, you don't even wear a shirt-"

You lunged across the coffee table, Beckman immediately putting his hands out in front of him to protect himself, to no avail. You wrapped your hands around both his wrists, before flinging yourself over his head, tight grip still around his combat-ridden hands as you landed on the ground behind him, sending him straight into the air after you and slamming onto the hard wooden deck of the Red Force.

Taking advantage of his dizzy, disoriented state, you rummaged in his pockets, fishing out his pack of cigarettes and tossing it into the ocean.

"You're joking." He stated dryly, peering at you from below as he nursed a bump on his head. "Was that necessary?"

"Says you." You squinted at him. "Good luck. We're not docking for another four days."

Beckman groaned, not even bothering to get up from the floor as he mourned the pack that was supposed to hold him over for the rest of the day.

"Don't bother with the ones you've got stashed away, either." You grinned, dangling something from your finger.

He opened his eyes.

His room key.

"They're mine now."

"You're unbelievable." He sighed.

"You started it."

"Yeah, he sleeps in your room. What about it?" Lucky Roux asked, bustling around the kitchen as you munched on some cookies. "I hear you scuffled with Beckman earlier."

"Don't bring his name up to me." You grumbled, tossing Beckman's room key to the cook. "He pissed me off. Give that back to him."

The cook whistled, tucking the key into his pockets. "Dunno what you expected from him. You asked him if he thought it was normal, and he was honest with you."

"Not you too." You groaned, stealing another cookie. "Captain's quarters are way bigger than mine. My feet hang over the end of my bed! And I'm right by the boiler room, so it's always warm and stuffy. My window is small, so I've got no breeze. There's nothing appealing about my room - if Shanks doesn't like his room, he should just sleep with Beckman."

Lucky Roux choked midway through taste-testing the dinner stew. "Well. I don't think you should ever suggest that to him."

"Why in the world would I want to sleep with Beckman?!" A familiar, indignant voice hollered from the pantry. You glared a searing hole into Lucky Roux, who felt a shiver run down his spine.

The cook turned around ever so slightly, the constant grin on his face looking a bit thin as he whispered, "Listen. I did not know he was there."

Shanks burst out of the pantry, holding a bag of jerky which was already half empty. His eyes darted between the two of you, like he'd witnessed a personal attack on his character. "I don't want to sleep with Beckman!"

"His room's way better than mine!" You exclaimed, wiping your mouth of cookie crumbs. "I've got nothing to offer you, Captain! Even Lucky Roux's room is better - I've probably got the worst room on the whole ship, which is honestly sort of offensive considering how long I've been around."

"You're always welcome in my room, Cap'n!" The cook grinned, sending Shanks a thumbs up, which was merely met with a dry look. "Okay."

Shanks pointed at you as he began to speak, before realizing that his fingers were covered in sauce from the jerky. He cleared his throat, walking around Lucky Roux to wash his hands in the sink, before coming back to stand in front of you, and pointing once more.

"Listen. I don't wanna sleep in anyone else's room. I wanna sleep in your room."

"Why?" You asked.

Lucky Roux snorted from the counter. Shanks inhaled deeply, running his hands down his face in downcast desperation. "It's comfortable."

"I just went through like, four reasons as to why it's not."

"Move to my room, then. The place isn't the reason I'm there - it's because I want to sleep with you." He clarified, leaning down to stare at you. He plucked the half-eaten cookie from your hand, and shoved it into his mouth.

Your jaw hung slightly open from the proclamation, and likely also because you were just robbed in broad daylight. Though maybe you deserved it, considering you'd robbed the second in command just a few hours prior.

"I can tell this is about to get gross." Lucky Roux hummed. "Can you guys take this elsewhere?"

Shanks began to agree, only to be cut off by you abruptly standing up and dashing out of the kitchen door without a word.

"Runaway bride!" Lucky Roux shouted jokingly, before clearing his throat awkwardly when his captain looked at him, obviously disappointed. "Sorry."

"Whatever." Shanks sighed, grabbing the bag of jerky and a napkin. "I'll see her later tonight anyways."

Despite how unbothered he appeared, Shanks did look for you during the rest of the day. The waters were clear, with only one Sea King appearing, which was swiftly slain by Beckman and dragged onboard for meat by the senior officers.

You didn't reappear. Night fell over the calm sea, and Shanks only saw you for about fifteen seconds as you appeared in the kitchen to serve yourself three helpings of dinner before disappearing back to wherever you came from.

He sighed, glancing at the clock. It was just about midnight.

"Best to sleep, Captain." Hongo smiled from across the table, stealing Shanks' half-finished beer in the blink of an eye. Before Shanks could complain, Hongo spoke. "I think not. Best to go to sleep with a clear mind tonight. Got a gut feeling about it."

Shanks narrowed his eyes at his doctor, but ultimately shrugged and laughed, defeated. "Fine, then. Have it your way. Night, Hongo."

He waved goodbye to the doctor, passing right by your door on the way to his room.

His room. It felt strange to call it that, considering it wasn't where he'd rested for quite a while now. His hand reached out to knock on your door, but he paused at the last second.

The look of shock on your face. Eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. The way you'd left in a hurry. Never really signs of an effortlessly charmed woman.

I want to sleep with you. He sighed, scolding himself internally for the awful wording he'd used. His arm dropped to his side, leaving your door untouched as he continued to walk down the hallway. Passing by Beckman's door, he could hear quiet cursing - probably still lamenting the loss of his cigarettes.

He reached his door. Just like you said, his room was the nicest, inside and out, but he felt no affection for it as he rested his hand on the doorknob, pushing it open and clicking it shut behind him.

He shrugged his cape off, hanging it on the door and taking his shoes off on the mat, before turning around to flick the light on and pausing.

"Hey." You greeted him, sitting on his bed. The side you liked sleeping on, he realized. The side opposite his.

"...Hey." He replied, a small smile gracing his face. "Wait. How'd you get in here?"

"Beckman." You hummed, tossing him the key to his own room. "Didn't think it was weird that your door was unlocked?"

"Guess I wasn't paying attention." He laughed, catching the key and putting it in his capes pocket. "So, what's up?"

You crossed your legs on the bed. Notably, you had pajama pants on. Shanks definitely didn't notice that and have to hold himself back from addressing it. "You said you wanted to sleep with me."

"Oh, that." He swallowed heavily, scratching his head. "Listen, I know that came off wrong. What I meant was-"

"Shanks." You interrupted him, sighing. "I know what you meant. I shouldn't have ran, alright? I just wasn't expecting you to say that. Come on."

"I should shower-"

"Shanks." You groaned, flopping onto the pillow. "You can't be serious. You've slept by me for a month now, don't pull this showering bullshit with me. You only shower on Friday nights. It's honestly disgusting."

Fuck. He cursed at himself. He'd been so busy appreciating the fact that you even let him in your room that he'd forgotten to appear appealing.

"It doesn't matter, Shanks." You butted into his thinking, arm tiredly patting the space beside you. "It's your bed, Cap. Or would you like me to leave?"

"No!" He exclaimed, hands thrown up in a big 'X' in front of him. "No, don't leave. I'll change clothes and hop in."

You shrugged, turning away from him as he dug in his closet for his nightshirt. "So... Do you want to talk about it, or?"

"...Yeah." He murmured, red hair falling over his scarred eye as he slid his pants off. "Well, I don't really know where to start. Do you remember where we met?"

You snorted in amusement. "Jaya. The cherry pie from that bar wasn't any good, but there was no other dessert. You insisted on buying me more dessert because I wasn't drinking at the time, and I felt forced to eat it because a nice man was buying me food."

"Wow." Shanks drawled, sitting on the bed next to you in fresh clothes. "Couldn't even call me handsome, huh?"

You turned back around, face buried into your arm as an eye peeked at him. "Your ego doesn't need any of that."

"I guess not." He chuckled, pushing the hair out of your face. His hand lingered for just a second too long. "Something drew me to you that day. Maybe it was the fact that you were sulking at the bar counter while everyone else was partying - or maybe the fact that you ate like a pig."

"Thanks." You said dryly, swatting his hand away. "You really know how to charm a girl, Red-Haired."

He grabbed your hand, and suddenly you found yourself sweating, hands clammy and cold. "Sorry. I'm serious, though. It might've also just been the fact that you were probably the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen."

"..." Your face turned warm, and you turned ever so slightly away, mushing it into the pillow and hoping he didn't notice. "Shut up."

"I thought you wanted to talk about it?" He teased, gently turning your head.

You narrowed his eyes at his banter. "I did. I didn't think you were going to be this straightforward about it."

"Would you rather us just go to sleep next to each other again for the next month and call it normal?"

"...No." You let him continue, hand still draped in his as he rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand soothingly.

"I knew I had to get you on my crew. If you weren't a good fighter, you were damn good with words - and that's a valuable asset for the future King of the Pirates to have too, if I ever ended up in that role far down the line. I must've hit the jackpot, for you to blessed at both."

He paused, looking at you again. You were staring at him intently now, hooked on his words - though you averted your eyes as soon as they met his.

"Don't even get me started on when you met Luffy." He laughed lightly, smiling fondly at the thought of you dragging the young boy around the town as his cheek stretched, wailing in complaint. "You guys acted like you were oil and water, but he'd always come cryin' to you first whenever someone made fun of him. You'd always defend him, too - like some sort of tiger mom."

"That's ridiculous." You huffed, trying to wiggle your hand out of Shanks' grip to no avail. "The boy could take care of himself."

"Why're you telling me that?" Shanks snorted, amused. "You're the one that babied him."

"Whatever."

"That was probably the first moment I knew you'd become a problem later down the line." Shanks scooted downwards on the bed, face now right across from yours as he slung his arm over your side loosely. "So, I tried to keep myself as busy as possible, always on a journey somewhere with the whole group."

You watched him silently, his eyes reminiscing at the thought of the kid he viewed like his own son. "It didn't work. Even one of the Emperors of the Sea has downtime here and there - and whenever nothing was going on, days that were particularly calm and peaceful, I found myself thinking of you."

He rolled on his back, as if he couldn't bear to keep looking at you as he gathered his thoughts. "That dragged on for another five years, and I wished the feelings would go away."

He glanced at you. "They didn't."

The silence marinated between the two of you as he thought of what to say next. "The past five years, I tried to drop hints here and there - but finally, when I got the courage to act on my feelings, we've become busy. Things are ramping up now in the competition for the One Piece, with Whitebeard dying, the Paramount War - Ace. It felt like the world was out to get me. I guess I could blame the Supernovas for that."

He laughed goodheartedly, though his eyes were bitter. It was clear he held some resentment for himself for having not acted earlier. "Sorry. I should've spoken up before, but we finally got some downtime this past month. After a decade being on the ship together, I didn't know how you felt about me or if I had a chance."

"So you sleeping in my bed was you feeling me out?" You snorted.

"Well, when you put it like that - Yeah." He grinned back. "So?"

"You're ridiculous, Shanks." You hit him lightly in the shoulder. He pouted playfully, clutching at the amputated arm even though you hadn't even hit him there.

"I'm a cripple, you know. Be careful!"

"For the record, I did think you were handsome the moment you came up to me in Jaya." You huffed. "I just didn't think it was worth mentioning."

"Oh, yeah?" He smirked, sitting up ever so slightly to lean over you. "I've aged now, though. Still a good looking guy to you?"

"Unfortunately." You drawled, cupping his face lightly and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "Yes, Shanks. I've been insufferably in love with you for years at this point. We both really should've said something sooner."

"We should've, shouldn't we?" He sighed, leaning back in to kiss you more. "Wonder if our crewmates are sick and tired of us."

"Definitely." You murmured, pecking the corner of his lips and gently shoving him off. "They'll be even more exhausted when they find out in the morning."

"1-10?" He asked.

"Beckman? Probably an 8."

"He sees you like a sister, you know." Shanks smiled. "Think he's gonna beat me up and threaten me?"

"He'll probably beg you to dock for cigarettes as your newfound brother." You sighed, tucking yourself into Shanks' side. "I'm so tired."

"Sleep, then." He replied. "It's not like this is anything new, sleeping with me."

As you dozed off at his side, drooling onto his nightshirt, Shanks couldn't help but hold you closer. Ten years ago, he laid eyes on you, and it took him another ten years to finally get somewhere. Whether it was your obliviousness or his lack of effort, he could only really realize one thing.

He definitely should've listened to Luffy all those years ago when the kid suggested you two get married.

boybunniesblog

Mated for Life

CW: rut, breeding, mating season, breeding, overstimulation, belly bulge

The sun had climbed high, but time meant nothing. I was faced down in the forest dirt, ass up, trembling and exposed. The wolf’s knot was still locked deep inside me—fat, swollen, pulsing so hard I swore I could feel it bulging through my tummy.

Every little grind of his hips made me cry out, not even words anymore… Just squeaks, sobs, broken whimpers spilling into the grovel. The slick between us was endless, soaking my thighs, dripping down to the ground. Every move made a sticky, obscene squelch, as though our bodies weren’t separate anymore, but fusing together at the knot.

The beast leaned over me, heavy, scenting the top of my head like I was already marked. “That’s it,” he murmured, voice low and satisfied, his breath hot against my ear. “You’re gone, aren’t you? My pretty bunny’s brain all melted from knot.”

I twitched, back arching as another orgasm ripped through me without warning, my body clenching and fluttering around him, milking him harder. My cotton tail quivered against his stomach, twitching helplessly as more slick gushed out, making the sounds between us wetter, filthier.

“You keep leaking, keep milking me,” he growled, claws pressing into my hips until I squealed. “Pathetic little thing can’t stop, can’t help yourself. You’ll take every rut I’ve got until you can’t even breathe without my knot keeping you open.”

I whimpered, tears streaking down my cheeks, my body shuddering violently in overstimulation. I couldn’t move, couldn’t fight, couldn’t beg—just twitch and squeak while he kept grinding inside me.

“Good prey,” he whispered, his tone almost tender in its cruelty. “Stay knotted. Stay ruined. You’re mine until I decide you’re empty.”

And as the squelching rhythm dragged on—wet, sticky, endless—I realized he meant it... I wasn’t going anywhere. Not until the scary werewolf was finished breaking me apart.

slutdier

𝑪𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑹𝑼𝑻 A touch-starved alpha Bucky Barnes finally snaps when his freshly-moved-in omega neighbor’s heat spikes through the thin Brooklyn apartment walls. He hasn’t fucked a pussy since the 1940s, and her desperate, dripping scent drives him feral.

alpha!neighbour!bucky barnes x fem!omega!reader

word count : 5,2k

warnings 18+ : explicit sexual content, no use of y/n, penetrative sex, knotting, fingering, a/b/o dynamics, heats, ruts, scenting, breeding kink, claiming/bonding bites, sex while pregnant, dubious consent (omega begs repeatedly while alpha hesitates out of fear of harm), size difference, possessiveness and mild dominance, brief mentions of historical trauma (hydra, forced celibacy, painful solo ruts)

author’s note : this is my first time ever writing anything a/b/o so pls be kind to her world 💀 hope you enjoy!!

The air in the old Brooklyn apartment building had been humming with quiet tension for three weeks now. Thin walls, creaky floors and James Buchanan Barnes across the hall, the gentlest alpha you’d ever met, who somehow made your body ache with a need so fierce it embarrassed you.

From the very first day, he’d offered to help with your boxes, voice soft as he asked, “Mind if I carry the heavy ones doll?” His metal arm gleamed under the hallway light as he lifted them effortlessly but he was careful, always careful, setting each one down like it was fragile, smiling that small, shy smile when you thanked him.

malereadermaniac

(;¬_¬) Alpha Tendencies - Clark Kent x Omega male reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Plot: Childhood best friends turn into something more when red kryponite forces out Clark's perverted thoughts

Featuring: Alpha (Smallville) Clark Kent x Omega male reader

Note: Presenting as A/B/O happens around 18 in this AU, not around regular puberty at 14!!!!!! ALSO! Never watched this series(?) and I know nothing abt DC other than what I've read from fanfiction so pls excuse any continuity issues and such!

Warnings: amab m!reader / FDNI ~ Minors DNI!

Alpha!Clark who's been protective over you since childhood. The two of you had been best friends and 'neighbours' since you two learnt to walk 'n talk! You were the closest house to Clark's farm; still pretty much in the middle of nowhere, but close enough that the brunette would knock on your door every day to get you outside to play together. And even though you two hadn't even presented yet, it was like you both naturally knew to settle into that Alpha-Omega rhythm. Clark would always watch out for you, his blood pressure spiking and his little fangs baring whenever you hurt yourself whilst playing or a stranger approached.

lunasmelody

⋆.𐙚 ̊⋆.ೃ࿔ 𝒀𝒂𝒘𝒏𝒆

part 2 of yawne ♡

pairing: dark!neteyam x innocent human reader

synopsis: neteyam decides to take a sweet girl he found wandering around pandoras forest for himself <3

tw: reader can breathe pandoras air, a/b/o dynamics, toxic neteyam, power imbalance, cnc, somnophelia barely, fingering, bitting, talks of mating, manipulation, DEAD DOVE, you are responsible for the media you consume

wc: 1.9k

a/n: hiyaaa i’m back!! i saw avatar 3 the other day and couldn’t stop thinking of how much i missed teyam so i had to write something myself!! let’s bring back avatar fics please they were the best TvT requests are open so you’re free to request!! this will probably also have multiple parts if you guys want.. i’d love to write a sequel ^_^

electricgg

ADIAML: Chapter 27 - Trigger Warnings

Hey, everyone! After many setbacks, I'm FINALLY finishing up Chapter 27 this afternoon and it will be posted at Midnight YAYYY!!✨Thank you all for your patience, especially the ones who keep commenting and sending asks, I love you all and I you'll enjoy this chapter, since with this one and the next, the Kidnapping Arc will be officially done!!

(I'm so not doing that again in my future fics. Pulling multiple povs and plots was intense and I pulled myself thin trying to make it all coherent. But this is a learning and exploring project to get better and discover my writing, so lesson learned!!)

For now, here are the warnings for this chapter, so pls be careful while reading and take care of yourselves!!

See you all very soon!!

Lots of love,

GG✨

catchingdaydreams

Bull Hybrid! Shigaraki x reader

Bulldozer

3500+ words

Chapter 3: Hybrid 101

(art by me)

Chapter 2: Bullwhipping

savvypirate

Ghosts, Sake, and Chaos- ghost!Roger x fem!reader x Shanks- Part 1

A/N: Hello friends, I mentioned before I wanted to do Gol D. Roger being a menace as a ghost so here is the beginning. I plan on doing this as a series but it'll come out on my own time, but hopefully you guys enjoy it as much as I am so far. Also Doris and Louise are products of mine and @spark-canon-spark's little brain worms talking because we like little old women being gossipy.

Reader owns a bar! Roger's dialogue will be italicized since only reader can hear and see him! Warnings: use of nicknames: Lovey, dear, sweetheart; Gol D. Roger.

Gol D. Roger was the most annoying man/ghost on the Grand Line, probably in the world.

candysparks

⋆˙⟡ [Outsiders get no love]⟡˙⋆

Neglectful! Batfam x Neglected! Space-Hero! Reader [Angst/Horror]

Soo my extended family has been pissing me the fuck off so everyone gets angst no comfort. Also I'm trying out a new header, let me know if y'all enjoy this one more than the other one!! And the sound track for this one is, ironically enough, "Take The L" from Fortnite.

Not much to say for this one other than Reader is too caught up with chasing other people's dreams that they end up chasing them off the deep end. ALSO THIS ISN'T PROOF READ! Forgive me for mistakes, I am a midnight writer so I'm very delusional when I write.

Here's those lovely Warnings and Disclaimers: Angst no comfort, lots of background character death, major character death, blood and violence, body horror, mind manipulation, body hijacking, accidental murder, child neglect, neglectful family, minor bullying, Reader is going THROUGH it, Reader is a fool in the kindest way possible, Reader pushes themselves past the point of no return, this is a tragedy but Reader thinks it's a messed up Comedy, Misunderstandings out the ass over here, kinda short tbh, yeah I'm just venting my frustrations onto this

yandere-sins

Sorry, but I adore the isekai emperor! I need to know what his court thinks of Reader, as he mentioned having killed previous spouses, and what the emperor's plans are for keeping reader safe from any staff that see Reader as a high value target.

I had this in my drafts for a long while, finally got around to finish it! Thank you for requesting this continuation! ♥

You tried not to let it get to you.

The silence. The stares. The whispering behind your back.

You had felt it the moment you took the emperor's hand to step out of the carriage, hundreds of servants lowering their heads and welcoming you in a rehearsed, military sing-song. The castle was completely quiet; no sound of life could be heard within the stone walls of the fortress the emperor called home.

Perhaps you were welcomed, but you weren't welcome.

Surely, most servants thought of you as something that would pass. Since they must have been worried about their own lives, they couldn't care more about yours. It was uncomfortable for everyone, including yourself. Still, the emperor didn't seem to notice as he paraded you through the hallways, barking orders and showing you off to the few other commanders and ministers he greeted.

No one met your eyes.

In a castle made of stone, you were a wallflower. Pretty to look at, but innocuous and fleeting. Life since you came to this world had been a rollercoaster through and through. Your charms had been less rewarding than you would have liked, be it for the position you were in or how the people treated you, their eyes always roaming over you while the magic influenced them. Still, being shunned and ignored was just as bad as crowds who almost stomped you to death. You simply couldn't get used to either, but you'd have to eventually, since this marriage wasn't something easily left behind.

A knock on your bedroom door made the maid halt the comb in her hand, your hair trickling out of her hold as you looked up, catching the hint of panic in her eyes as she quickly stepped back.

"His Imperial Majesty!"

Part of you wanted to sigh, hearing the announcement that had plagued you day after day. There wasn't a morning that the emperor didn't personally pick you up for breakfast. You weren't ready yet, but you had learned he wasn't a patient man.

Standing up from your dresser, you turned around, putting on a smile and bowed as he strode through the door, his eyes immediately snapping to you. His expression darkened as his gaze roamed your body, but you paid it no mind.

"Why isn't she ready yet?" he asked the maid sternly, crossing the distance to you and placing a gentle hand on your back before bending down to kiss your head.

"Not that you look any less beautiful this early morning," he mumbled for your ears only, lifting your chin so you'd face him. "In fact," he chuckled, wiping some sleep from your eyes. "I could get used to seeing you drowsy after pulling you out of your sleep every morning. We could start exercising together, and I'd get to hold you close to me--"

"You--Your Majesty!" you quickly interrupted him, not unaware of all the servants trickling in after him, bringing fresh flowers and starting to clean your room. You weren't oblivious to his innuendos, the same ones he made constantly when he didn't think or didn't care that other people were listening. Even after a week of living at his castle, his demeanor hadn't changed much towards you. He still seemed infatuated with you and enjoying your presence, so it was up to you to rein in his euphoria about the wife he had caught.

"These things... we should discuss them after the official marriage wedding. You wouldn't want me to be disgraced, would you?"

That seemed to hit the point, the emperor looking up into the open space as he thought before shaking his head. "Of course not," he conceded before adding with a sinister smile playing on his lips, "Although we could just kill anyone who dares to besmirch your name."

You held back the disgust you felt as you turned from him, slipping out of his grasp. Instead, you stood before the mirror on your dresser again, reaching for the comb yourself. "How cruel you are this morning. Trying to make me think of blood and executions this early."

"Oh, dearest. I just wanted to reassure you that no such slander will be made in my castle."

"We can't avoid it. Rumors are bound to happen since you are so important, and I am not. Not everyone will accept your decision to marry me, it's quite normal."

"Yes, indeed. But we can set examples and make sure no one will dare to open their mouth while in your presence."

"Splendid..." you muttered quietly. "Can't wait for them to speak about me behind my back."

Stepping behind you, you watched as the emperor caught a strand of hair, bringing it to his face and drawing a deep breath. "I won't let them hurt you," he assured you, sounding almost reliable. You put on a smile for him that didn't seem convinced, but this wasn't a fight you could win against him. If he thought he could eradicate all rumors, there was no telling him that it was normal and to be expected. Lest he might have gone on a rampage in your name, making things infinitely worse.

The hustle behind you two was almost impossible to notice when his frame took up most of the reflection. However, your eyes caught the shivering frame of your handmaiden, still standing to the side, clutching her skirt with deathly white knuckles. She was staring at the floor as if it was a lifeline to clutch onto.

His eyes followed yours, and as quickly as he had given you all his attention, he tore it away from you. "Why wasn't the empress dressed and ready this morning?! I told you there was a meeting before breakfast and to prepare her for this. How useless are you that you can't even dress your mistress properly?! This borders on mistreatment. Do you know what we do with lazy people like you? We put them into the dungeon until they are begging to serve again and then we cut off every one of their fingers and--"

"Enough!"

You could barely believe your own voice to be so strong with all the fear you still harbored for him. But as you watched the emperor go on and on about such trivial matters as if the servant had personally offended him, you couldn't just sit back. She was still young, no doubt more of a noble lady than you with her perfect posture. But her meek personality showed the cruelty she had endured to survive in this place.

Surprised, the emperor twisted around, looking at you with wide eyes as you met him head-on with as much authority as you could muster. No one had ever stood up to him, and it showed in these moments, his cruel, self-assured confidence taking a hit.

"She is my servant. If I wish to sleep in, she has to do as I say. You don't get to threaten her for obeying me."

It almost felt like you had grown a second spine as you stood up for the woman, her eyes briefly lifting to look at you with the look of someone who couldn't believe you actually just did that. You couldn't either. Neither did the emperor. He stared at you like a fish, mouth agape, and the room seemed to stand still.

No one moved or said anything, and the longer you just stood there, staring at each other, the more uncomfortable you grew. Doubts and second thoughts finally reached you, and you stumbled to de-escalate the situation, clearing your throat.

"I wasn't feeling well this morning," you explained meekly, expanding the lie as you went. "Being here still feels very different, and some nights I can't sleep. She-" you pointed towards the maid "-made me tea, and thus I needed longer to get ready. I apologize if it upsets Your Majesty; I will do better in the future."

The emperor's mouth closed slowly as he took in your words. Curtsying in front of him felt like lowering your head on the chopping block, yet it was the only way you knew how to apologize. But when you saw him turn towards the maid once more, you were convinced it didn't work at all, rushing to straighten up and defend her more if you must.

"Have the other servants prepare light snacks and beverages for the meeting. I don't want the empress to faint if she is unwell. And a cushion for her chair."

Nodding slowly, bewildered by the kind command, then quickly, the maid bowed her head once to the emperor, then to you, before rushing off to relay the orders. Once she was gone, his focus shifted back to you, but you were too relieved that he hadn't done anything to the poor girl; you didn't mind his scrutinizing gaze.

"Thank you," you sighed, placing a hand above your heart. With the adrenaline washing off from one moment to the next, you felt yourself sway, quickly falling back onto the dressing chair as the arms of the emperor shot out. You weren't one for the dramatics, but he was just so damn scary! Unless...

Unless he looked at you like this, his eyes full of worry.

"Are you alright?! Do you need the doctor?! Speak to me, please!"

Instead of talking, you couldn't help but laugh lightly as you watched him fuss over you, his hands moving up and down your arms, squeezing. "I'm fine," you croaked, your throat a little dry.

You didn't know what was going on with you as you lifted your hand, brushing back the strands of hair from his face and cupping his cheek. "I like you better like this," you admitted, stupidly ignoring who was in front of you. "You look good when you care. Much more than when you're angry."

His brows furrowed as he looked at you, apparently still convinced that you were sick after all, spouting nonsense. Then, he shook his head, chuckling. "What are you doing to me, woman?" he sighed, then, finally, after making sure you could sit on your own, he pulled his hands back, crossing them beneath his chin. "I still think she needs to be taught a lesson."

"I'd rather she doesn't. I need all her fingers to tie my corset."

"Hm..." he hummed thoughtfully. "You know, I would gladly take that job. I never learned to string it, but I expect I could learn."

At this, you couldn't hold back, exploding into almost maniac laughter. It was unbecoming of a queen to show such emotions, and yet, how could you not when he squatted before you, seriously thinking about how to string a corset for his wife-to-be. The big, mean, tyrannical emperor theorizing about ways to dress his wife was much too hilarious.

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you found him gazing at you with an unfamiliar, soft expression. Your showcase of emotions was apparently endearing rather than appalling. Yet, you coughed away the last few laughs, trying to return your composure despite your heart doing leaps in your chest. He was an oddball, mostly because he clearly was under your charm. But at the end of the day, he was still the most feared person on the entire continent.

The person who came to your rescue was, surprisingly, your maid, who returned to your side, and you looked up at her, a smile playing on your lips. In her hand was a cup of tea, still steaming, that she quickly placed on top of the dresser for you. Thoughtful.

"Please help me get ready," you ordered gently, handing her back the comb, and she nodded eagerly before giving the emperor another quick bow.

He grumbled a little, but got up much more agile than one would think from someone with his frame. "Have the meeting delayed," he ordered someone behind you, and you watched as a guard saluted before rushing out. You didn't know their faces or names yet, but none of them deserved his mistreatment. Yet, they served faithfully, so perhaps it was on you to make an effort in the future.

"What's your name?" you asked the maid, catching her surprised gaze in the mirror.

"Madeline, Your Majesty," she whispered quietly.

Behind you, the emperor plopped down onto your couch, sighing deeply before staring at your back with furrowed brows. As if you were a puzzle he had to solve. He didn't seem upset he had to wait, but something was clearly gnawing at him. Maybe it was why he was so infatuated with you, or why you'd stop him from reprimanding staff that he thought was below him. Whatever it was, you doubted that his coming up with an answer would be a good thing, but there were more serious matters to attend to.

A meeting, huh? you thought, reaching for the cup to take a sip. No one had told you about that, and now, the panic started to set in. This would be your first formal meeting with the ministers. You doubted they could change the emperor's mind, but you still hoped they'd like you, rather than despise you. With the effects of your charm, was that even possible?

"What a wonderful name," you eventually finished the conversation, letting her comb your hair, a tiny smile hushing over her lips, too. The emperor's eyes stayed on you for the whole time, and yet, all you could think about was this first step outside of this cage you called home. New responsibilities and new tasks were waiting for you, and regardless of having to juggle the emperor's moods, you'd have to prove yourself as empress now, a role you were even less qualified for than being a queen.

But as much as you wanted to return to your world, there wasn't a way back. Not one you knew about yet, at least. Looking into the mirror, you saw and felt the determination filling you. You'd survive no matter what. Giving up had never been an option for you. So forward it was, no turning back.

You had a feeling the ministers were suspicious of you.

bebechii

Welcome Home

Synopsis: You are the first born child of billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne. In this PLATONIC omgeaverse take, you are his only child that has not been accepted into the pack. After living through years of constant disappointment and neglect, 14 year old you is ready to plan for their future far away from the eyes of your family. Your attempts to continue to live under the rador and move out to a new, exciting life should go smoothly…right?

PSA: There will be no romantic relationships. I will hint at a character maybe liking the reader, but given this is a yandere story…it will not last long…RIP.

Word Count: 1.8k

Chapter 1: What am I supposed to do?

You are a child born from a prostitute as a result of a one night stand. You lived with your mother in the Narrows of Gotham City, she was your whole world.

Though you were poor, she did her best to provide the best she could for you. She would borrow books from the library for you to read, take you to the park to play, and, when she had some extra cash, she would take you to the desert cafe to get whatever you wanted. You were happy as long as you were around her.

However, your mom couldn’t protect you forever.

After your mom would place you in the closet for the night for “mommy’s important work” as she would call it, she would peel the doors open ever so slowly with her cheeks stained with tears and bring you close to her chest to rock side-to-side with you.

“Oh my sweet, beautiful child” she would cry “you being born a beta was the greatest gift I could ever give you. The world is cruel to those of my kind…but you…you will be safe so long as you live as what you are…”

You did not understand what she was talking about at the time, but as you grew up you began to recall this conversation more and more.

One night, before your mother closed the door on the closet, she said in a quiet voice, “my baby…no matter what happens you must stay silent…promise me honey.” “I promised mommy” you whispered back to her. She smiled kindly with eyes lacking in light before kissing your forehead, “I love you so much my sweet baby”. Before you had the chance to reply, she closed the door gently.

As you attempted your best to sleep, given the circumstances, a shot went off. Followed by another. And another. Then silence. You promised your mother you would be good and stay put, however that did not stop the terror from creeping into your small bones, nor the tears from streaming down your eyes.

You had no concept of time, but you understood that a long time past before the doors of the closet were ripped open by people with flashlights in yellow and black uniforms. “Oh god…” one of them said, “Commissioner…she had a kid”.

After those words were uttered, you don’t remember much of what happened next. You remember a kind looking man talking to you. You remember answering that you were 4 years old. You remember the officers taking you to a police station. You remember them running tests and looking frazzled by the results. Lastly, you remember a man with bright blue eyes and black hair. He dressed like a businessman you would see on walks in the park with your mom. Next to him was an elderly man also dressed in a similar sophistcated attire.

You remember the man with the blue eyes kneeled down in front of you to say, “Hello there, my name is Bruce Wayne and it seems that I am your father. What is your name?”

“(Name)”

After that it was a blur of papers and eyes all on you and people kept shuffling around. You do remember getting into a fancy car, which drove to a fancy house, before being given a room bigger than your mom’s old apartment. You now know that there are bigger rooms in the house, which are on the family wing, but you have learned to accept where you have been placed.

Later that same day, two kids older than you had come to the house. The eldest introduced himself as your new brother Dick, while the younger one introduced himself as Jason. Despite your father being away often, Dick and Jason became your true brothers. As you were the smallest of the three, they still treated you with love and care. The five of you were a family. You were in the batcave with them cracking jokes at Bruce’s expense, playing tag…you had a family.

Until Jason died.

Dick became distant. Bruce became closed off. Alfred became reserved.

You were alone.

As you continued your lessons in school, you finally learned why your mother had said about you being a beta. Beta’s did not smell pheremones. Beta’s did not have heats or ruts. Being a beta made you considered to be a logical member of society.

However, in the same lesson, you learned about packs. There are two prominent sweat gland spots to be marked. The one on the back of the neck was for mates. The one on the inner wrists was proof of a pack that should be given by your family. After a marking, the family would huddle around the newest marked member for days in order to make them feel secure in the family. These sessions could last weeks depending on how the newest member takes to the bonding. After hearing all of this, you didn’t understand why they didn’t mark you. You new Dad, Dick, Jason, and Alfred had marked each other…so why not you?

Poor little (Name) brought this question home to Alfred when they came back from school. He said “Master (Name) I’m sorry but this is not an appropriate time to broach this subject. Give it time”.

And time she gave…then Tim came along.

Dick came around more. Bruce opened up. Alfred was attentive.

You greeted Tim with an open heart. You asked him question after question to learn about him and showed you cared. He always gave superficial responses, you understood though…he was busy helping Gotham. Just like Dad does, like Dick does, like Jason did.

After a year of Tim being here, you went to look for your dad to sign a paper for a school field trip to the science center. As you walked the long halls of the manor, you saw it in Tim’s room. Bruce, Dick, and Tim cuddling close with Tim at the center.

Tim is officially joining the pack.

Alfred came up behind you, “Master (Name) what are you doing over here? It is highly inappropriate to try and interrupt a bonding ceremony.”

Your mind was scattered with a deep hurt and shame, “I-I’m so sorry, I just-I just wanted Dad to sign my paper for a field trip…”

Alfred placed a hand on your shoulders and guided you towards your own room, “I will sign it for you my dear, but during such an important moment, you must not interrupt do you understand.”

You couldn’t even think. Why were you not being taken into the pack? Why was Alfred out here? You asked Alfred both these questions in the haze of the walk back to your room.

“Master (Name) I told you before that these things take time. It must not be rushed, when they are ready they will come to you. I am not included in the circle since my status in the pack is different from a traditional family pack. I do not need to be there for the entire ceremony. Now, here is your room, and please do not approach the West wing for awhile”.

You never went towards the West wing after that day. You did wait for your family though. One day they would approach you with the desire to make you part of the pack. You would become family, all you had to do was wait.

Then Jason came back. You tried to approach him when he came back the first time you heard about him being back, but he snapped at you. If you were to ask him, he doesn’t remember what he said, but you-you remember every word.

Not long after Jason came back, a twelve year old boy, the same age, as you joined the family. You greeted him with a smile and introduced yourself. Damian, as you would find through the yelling, pulled a katana on you while calling you a disgrace of a child and the Wayne name.

You did not approach Damian after that, but you did go to school together. He avoided you, from what you can guess is embarrassment, while you avoided him in fear.

A year after Damian joined, your enter perspective on your “family” shifted.

You found Alfred in the kitchen, “Hey Alfred, I was wondering if you know where dad is, there is a permission slip I need him to sign in order to watch a PG-13 movie in class!”

Alfred looked at you with the slightest glance of pity, “I’m sorry Master (Name), but currently Master Bruce and the other young masters are completing the bonding ceremony for Master Damian”.

You were left to stand there in shock and disarray. Damian…your blood brother Damian…who has been here for a year was getting bonded to the pack and becoming an official member of the family…but what about you?

You tried to put on your most unbothered expression, if Alfred saw through he didn’t comment on it, “Is Jason with them too?”

“Yes Master (Name). Since he was not here for Tim’s either, he is technically participating in two.”

“Thank you for letting me know Alfred, could you sign my paper instead please”, you are certain your voice cracked in the end but you pushed through.

Alfred took the paper gently, “Of course Master, and remember your time will come soon”.

You did not say another word. The moment he handed you your paper back you walked into your room before you burst out crying, “I-I j-just wanted to be a f-family. I-I w-wanted to be loved...is that so hard to ask?!”

This brings us to two years later, present day. (Name) and Damian are 14.

(Name) has been on the phone more, Damian notices. They have been more secretive and cryptic with her friends, Damian is paying attention.

He understands that he shouldn’t care. They are not a member of the pack, yet they are his only blood related sibling. He demands to know that (Name) is hiding.

One way or another.

And this dive into reader’s life will give them what they previously wanted…but can they handle the cost?

A/N: HELLO! Sorry for the long exposition (I hate writing it), but the story will pick up from here. I hope you enjoyed my first series and I hope to try and give updates at LEAST once a week!!

cafeoa

“So much to do, so little RAM.”

- Iron Man 1 290

Tony Stark!batsis!Fem!reader pt 1 | pt 2

Gotham's got another thing coming Tony Stark!batsis!Fem!Reader

It starts out how most things do, with a failed marriage

To the media, its an amicable divorce between Bruce Wayne and your mother, but the two have always been good at smiling for the camera

Custody is split, with your mother getting majority. You're closer to her, anyway. She bends herself soft towards you, cooks you eggs and pancakes in the mornings instead of having the nanny do it. When you're doing homework, she brings you apple slices that she cut herself.

Bruce is more distant after the divorce. Never less full of love. Just, when he sees you, you're a shadow of your mother, and he's a man full of excuses who foresaw this and gave it a chance, but it went to hell anyway. He's never been good with words. He doesn't know how to show or say that he wants the world for you, and that he's never kept a good thing in his life without harming it

so he's at work most of the time. He hears how you're doing from Alfred, from your teachers, from occasional reports from your mother

then she dies and Bruce and you are stuck with one another

car crash, evidently

It's a transition. Slow, yet sudden. You see Alfred more than your own father. The butler and you get along like lemons and salt. By 7 am he's throwing the covers off of you, weekdays and weekends.

"Master Bruce has done a poor job at teaching you to respect your elders, young mistress."

"Yeah, well, two thousand years ago when old people started getting naggy, they'd be left on a desert hill."

"Yes, how unfortunate for the young master, being bugged about their Caribbean Cobb Salad being ready."

You call him a sadist

He says, "Yes, I do take particular enjoyment in it."

After a few months of you ignoring teachers and spending lunch hour in the robotics lab building practical motors, Bruce decides to send you to study abroad. Better schooling, is the excuse he gives you. You'd bet he figured it'd do you some good to be out of Gotham. That, or he was tired of receiving complaints from the school counselors.

You have no idea about the kid until two years later, when Bruce isn't buying your excuses for skipping Christmas dinner anymore

He's in the foyer of the manor, staring up at you with blinking blue eyes that have you craning your head from him to Bruce and back again. Polite and a little wary, he is, even when shrugging him off to hole yourself up in the storage room used to keep your old science projects and procrastinated ideas. It's where you spend most of your time, and Bruce doesn't pry. Dick Grayson, who's name you never ask for but involuntarily learn (a gold mine for teenage jokes, unfortunately for him), is all too curious. Friendly, talkative. Asks about what you're working on and picks parts off of tables to turn them over in his hand with an inquisitive eye. One time he started juggling plyers and screwdrivers just to pass the time.

Secretly clever too, you come to learn. There's not much explaining about what parts do what and how to use each tool. He seems to know already, and if not, watches you for a few seconds before imitating.

It's not as if you dislike him, but you don't get along. No fault on Dick's part, but you're physically incapable of holding your tongue and not make fun of him for his pleated sweaters and general unpopularity at school. Dick never seems too affected by it, though. That riles you up even further.

Then there's the secrecy. Him and your own father get along better than with you, bouncing off ideas, gone during late hours, Bruce invested in Dick's education and sports life. It's like you're watching a play of what your own life should be like. Worst of all, Bruce tries. He tries with you. Comes down to see what you're working on. Asks about boys at school and grades and if you're turning in your homework on time. Most damning of all, he asks if you'd like to come back to Gotham. Stay with him. You weren't able to name why that made you so bitter back then. No word for what caused you to spew hurtful jabs wrapped in sarcasm about how Dick was your cheap replacement and you had no desire of staying. Bruce doesn't react with hurt or anger; you don't know if you want him to. But he places a hand on your shoulder, gives it a squeeze.

Doesn't take you long after seeing the kid in a yellow cape and pixie boots on the news to make a connection. Swift movements, agility you've caught glimpses of in the corners of your eye.

It's whatever, you tell yourself. You go back to boarding school once winter break is over. Not much contact, save for Alfred. Strangely enough, you wonder if you're more of an orphan than Dick is.

University at 14, graduate at 17, whilst Dick and Bruce are playing Knight and Squire in Gotham. Tensions still linger, but you show up for holidays, if only to remind them that you exist. Barbara Gordon joins the fray during all this. Smart and witty, but you take it as a challenge.

Then Dick and Bruce have a split and Dick moves to Bludhaven under a new mantle. You watch it all go down like a comedy. Bruce gets a new protege, some scraggly kid off the streets. You meet him briefly, but it sticks with you. Jason's like a grasshopper, always bouncing here and there, sweet in a way that made you curl your words in more teasing rather than jabs. A superman fan with an engraved glass autograph in his bedroom (showed off to you excitedly). There was a tenseness to Bruce after rare nights out in the field, when he'd be firm, a watchful eye on Jason, a stern talking behind doors, but Jason wasn't Dick even if similar. You found that a good thing.

Still, Bruce takes him in as a son with a quickness you're unsure what to make of. You're stuck thinking that as the blood daughter, you deserve some privilege over Dick and Jason, if only to just have your father to yourself. But he hasn't been much of a father, has he? That's the thing. It's like you were the trial run. Jason's all his to cherish and love.

He's too sincere to garner any lingering hate, though. The kid somehow smooths over some of the rough edges between Dick and you. Dick passed on the Robin mantle to Jason himself, led him and cared for him like an older sibling, and Jason looked up to him and tried to live up to the legend. For some reason, he sees you in a similar light. Like a sister. Someone he wants to live up to and impress. Apparently, he thinks you're super cool for being a genius, and your designs inspire some time of child like wonder within him. Even studies hard so he can understand them. With dedication like that, you only lightly compare him to your robot Dum-E.

He liked writing to you when you were off being reckless around the world, even if you rarely replied.

Not much later, you're showing up to his private funeral hungover, amber tinted shades on, wearing a wrinkled blazer.

You don't remember what you said. Insensitive, probably. A joke made too early. Most definitely, because it made Dick kick you out. No one reached out for a while and there was a twisted sense of relief in that. Freedom from responsibility in the guise of punishment. Because Jason had sent you a final letter before that, more sparse and questioning. You were getting plastered on a yacht off the coast of Monaco when he died.

He's a ghost that lingers and pushes unknowingly. The arguments are frigid. Loud. You hit back with sharp sarcasm and laugh at Bruce's glares. You want to change the trajectory of Wayne Enterprises. Defense, you'd said. That's where all the money is. And you've got ideas. A stockpile of them. You'll turn the company into the forerunner of military defense, almost a monopoly. With weapons like yours, wars will be won before they can even start. And, yeah, maybe there's something about Jason that's pushing you to do this instead of working on anything else.

Bruce's jaw clenches so hard his teeth ache.

No. It's low and bursting, cold as a blizzard. This is not what my parents stood for.

And all you do is tilt your head, the signature sardonic smile that is so much like the guise Bruce dons in public. "Yeah, well, I'm just getting with the times."

There's a shareholder meeting. Bruce is vehemently against your decision. He's composed, hands intertwined on the marble table, black suit pressed and tailored.

You show up late. Grinning. "Hold your applause, gentlemen. I'm here to save you from what I bet is a riveting conversation about just why we shouldn't take the next steps to take over the weapons manufacturing market. All sound, I'm sure. Dear old dad knows how to put an engaging power point presentation together." Your eyes meet and you smile wider. Next you're pressing your watch, holograms shining out. You swipe your hand over them and they connect to the large screen at the end of the room, flaring to life with the presentation title, 'GENESIS'. "Now, I don't consider myself a god," you start, hands in your pockets, sauntering to the head of the room, right behind Bruce. "I'm not that demigod with the red briefs in Metropolis. But if we want to, it'll be us controlling the board."

Bruce figured you would be prepared, but never to this extent.

Potential profits and buyers, he expected. But you're his kid, and thorough when you want to be. When it spites people. There's contacts with the pentagon, an insider in the air force who's interested in what you could sell. Invoices already drafted. Bruce never knew you could put this much work into anything that wasn't in a lab.

And in a room full of shareholders seeking profits? The agreement couldn't come quicker.

Still, Bruce is never one without a backup plan.

As it stands, he's the majority shareholder. Up his sleeve is the second majority, Derek Powers, who Bruce promised a third of his shares so long as he voted against your proposition. Not enough to give Powers the leg up over Bruce, but it brings him closer. A necessary liability that Bruce will have to deal with after this.

When all is said and done, the trump card Bruce had stored away never goes off. Derek Powers votes in agreement with you. Bruce hides the disdain on his face well, like a mask of indifference.

You look at him, shrugging and winking. "Hey, no hard feelings? We're still up for family dinner night on Friday?"

You're putting on your yellow shades, palm on the handle of the glass meeting doors before pausing. Turn your head back. "Oh, by the way. I kinda promised Powers CFO."

"You don't have the power to make that decision," Bruce says.

You snap your fingers. "That's what I was forgetting! Right, right. Guys, can we get on that? Vote to transfer the CEO position to me?"

A majority sweep.

"Cool. Powers, congrats on becoming CFO."

Then you're gone.

Dick, the proverbial son that he is, tracks you down for a talk.

You expected it, which is why you spent the night at the casino, surrounded by security and handsome men trying to buy you drinks once they recognize you. It was that time where you stopped counting your wins and losses.

The atmosphere doesn't scare Dick off. 'Course not. He's a bat.

He's in a well pressed suit of his own. Navy, stripped. Blue tie for a comical touch only him and you can understand.

The ladies in silk dresses take one look at him and bat their eyelashes.

You hold out the dice concealed in your fist. He eyes it, leans down, plays along and blows on them. You roll.

"Would you look at that, the Grayson luck. I think you just saved me from bankruptcy."

"Wouldn't be a good look if you ran the company dry on your first day as CEO." He holds up a cold glass of water. "Snagged you this from the bar."

"Oh, my favorite," you say, taking it and immediately passing it away to your bodyguard, forgotten. There's whisky in your breath.

Dick manages to lure you away for a moment and you're forced to listen to him, sipping dully on a cocktail as he gives you that look that's so much like Bruce under the high chandelier lighting. It's almost funny. Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne's adopted son, and you, his blood daughter. Dick's more like Bruce than you have ever been -- can ever try to be. It's there in his face, the same crease of their brows, same downturn of their mouth.

"An arms dealer?" he asks, an underlayer of something in his tone.

"What, would you rather we end up like Queen Industries and their hippie new business model? I don't look good in their shade of green. That's a lie, I do, I just don't like it."

And he narrows his eyes at you the same way he's done since he was nine and mulling something over. It's less evident now and he's able to hide it when he wants, but there's no need for that when it's just you two. There are traces of that little kid in him still there. Maybe that's what he's seeing as he looks at you right now. "I'd like a serious answer."

"Hey, watch your tone, junior. I'm the oldest, which means you can't criticize me ever and you do all I say. This is the 21st century, Dick. Weapons are needed now more than ever, and I'm securing that Wayne Enterprise's has the lead. You want a peaceful world? Peace means having a bigger stick than the other guy."

"Some would say that's a really philosophical way of saying, war profiteering."

"Not a philosopher, but my mother did read me Dr.Seuss."

The media has a field day.

Bruce Wayne stepping down as CEO is framed by Wayne Enterprises as a heartwarming passing of the baton to his 21-year old prodigy in full earnest. Less amusing than the almost Shakespearean takeover you orchestrated.

The U.S. air force land you Wayne Enterprises' first major contract with your miniaturization engineering work and its possible applications in munitions -- a little something your worked on when you were nineteen and existential.

Six years in as CEO, 27, still a lively nuisance to the general stoics, reporters and journalists swarming you day and night like blood sucking flies.

If they're cute, you take a few questions.

"Ms.Wayne, would you describe yourself as an arms dealer?"

And you're looking at the man with the recorder up and down, adjusting the rim of your sunglasses as you straighten up and lean your hand on the the door of your convertible. "Hey, pretty. For you, I'm whatever you need me to be."

"The people would like an honest answer. Ms.Wayne."

"Huffington Post?"

"Bloomberg, actually."

"Well, Mr.Berg, I'm a representative of the people. Are you planning on reporting the numbers of how ever since taking on government contracts, Wayne Enterprises has dedicated a significant amount of its resources into medical biometric implants, cardiac replacement medicine, and internal analgesic pumps thanks to military funding? Or does that not sell as many click bait subscriptions as affirming the echo chamber of your readers?"

"All research funded by blood money."

"You mean, money that lets Americans sleep at night without having to worry about the other big guys on the side of the world with their fingers hovering over that scary red button. No need to thank me, really. But I do love hearing it."

And the cute reporter is shaking his head in the wrong kind of amazement.

"What does your father, Bruce Wayne, think about the drastic change in direction Wayne Enterprises has taken ever since you've been at the helm?"

You grin. "Jealous he didn't do it first."

You're not all bad, you think. You've heard your father talk about Gotham. How he loves it, sees the good among the waste, wants to save it, even if half the country has given up on it. You're stopping wars. Keeping the country safe. Keeping its allies safe. All military funding finds itself back into social technologies, projects that help the little guy. But tonight? Based off the way this reporters looking at you, you're going to have some fun before you fly off to Afghanistan tomorrow.