fics!

original acc: @sadtrombonemusic

[odiesdayoff]

Masterlist!

*indicates smut!

EDWARD NASHTON [THE BATMAN]

Fics:

The Unfortunate Demise of Edward Nashton(’s Love Life)

*Borrow (+ Adrian Chase)

*Leaving For Good

Series:

*Studying Pays Off / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 /

*So Undercover / 2 / 3 /

Drabbles:

*Fortnite!

ADRIAN CHASE [PEACEMAKER]

Fics:

*Borrow (+ Edward Nashton)

BURT FABELMAN [THE FABELMANS]

Fics:

Parent-Teacher Conference

JAIME REYES [BLUE BEETLE]

Fics:

*Trust Your Instincts

Drabbles:

*NSFW Alphabet

[odiesdayoff]

the concept of the Other Adrian stealing OG Adrian's life because he has friends and a girlfriend and his earth is just better...

[odiesdayoff]

Hallowed Be Thy Name (2)

Pair: Lex Luthor x fem!reader

Summary: Lex feels guilty.

Warnings: SMUT (minors DNI); cunnilingus; dub-con; misogyny in general

“Right, well, at least you make good coffee.” You rolled your eyes at Jimmy’s words. It’s not like his preference in coffee was entirely complicated. The man just liked a splash of milk. Not like Lois and her heart-attack inducing amount of sugar.

“It’s a good story!” Just on the less wealthy side of Metropolis, a little dance studio that’s been there for fifty years was closing down to make room for yet another expansion of LuthorCorp. You used to dance there as a little girl. “It meant a lot to people in this city.”

“It’s well written, but I’m not gonna get on the Chief’s bad side for asking. Sorry, kid.” Jimmy gave you an apologetic smile. You interviewed, took photos, and wrote the entire article for apparently nobody.

“You know what? I’ll vouch for you to Perry.” Clark stood, finally dropping his most recent copy of the Planet. Of course, his newest story about the Hammer of Boravia and Superman’s fight was the front page.

You perked up. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course. Luthor can’t keep secretly killing these small businesses. Plus, it’s a good article.” He swiped the printed article from your hands and messed with your hair playfully. “You’ve got potential.”

Potential. That’s something to be debated now. How could you possibly write now? Lex barely allowed you to leave his penthouse. 

In the mirror, you looked at the nightgown that fell right around your mid-thigh. It’s simple and white. Bruises lined your neck and legs from the other day at the United Nations.

You didn’t want to touch them. Instead, you tucked yourself into the silk sheets and leaned against the headboard.

“Did I make those?” Lex asked, crawling into bed next to you. He traced the bruises with surprising gentleness. 

Your silence and slight wince answered his question. 

“Oh, honey.” He cooed. “I’m sorry. I sometimes forget how much of a delicate flower you are. I shouldn’t have been so rough.”

His sweet words mixed with kisses along the bruises made you melt into him. He always seemed to somehow make you forget he was the one that put them there in the first place. “I must be gentle with you.”

He grabbed your thighs and gently pushed them apart. Your nightgown fell back to your waist, the cool air hitting your most intimate area.

“So beautiful.” He rested his face between your legs, gently lapping at your entrance. His mouth finds your clit, sucking the sensitive spot enough to rip whimpers from your lips. 

You hated the way he made you feel as the familiar sensation coils in your stomach. He ate you like a starving man.

The orgasm ripped through you and Lex held your legs to stop them from shaking or crushing his skull from the strength of your thighs alone. Not like he’d be complaining.

He pulled you close after climbing back to the pillow, your juices still glistening around his lips. For once, you let him. “My delicate flower. How could I have lost control like that?”

~

“And submit to your husbands. For those without, the matchmaking program is still a possibility as many intelligent men immigrate here often. We might not all be lucky enough to marry him, but that doesn’t mean there’s no hope for us single ladies.” The woman droned on, glancing at you with a hint of envy. For all you cared, she could have him. Not like you were jumping for joy about it. “Not to mention the veils we have available for sale, as we all know the importance of wearing them.”

Wednesday mornings were for women’s ministry. A time for all of the women in the country to fawn over their husbands like they weren’t their damn oppressors. You hated Wednesdays.

The children played outside of the building while the women chatted amongst themselves. Of course, they wanted your attention and to learn every little detail about what a paradise it must be to be married to the leader. You weren’t sure they knew your first name.

“The UN meeting was a fun experience. Maybe next year they’ll come to their senses about our country. Lex certainly wasn’t pleased about it.” You laughed as if his behavior was something to joke about. The bruises still burned despite his apology.

Lucille, one of the older women in the parish, laughed alongside you. “Men. Always pouting when they don’t get their way. My John’s the same way.”

Another woman rushed up to you, a little frantic. “Mrs. Luthor, I was hoping to get your opinion on the nursery’s theme. Sydney and I can’t decide on farm animals or the ocean.” On all accounts, you were sure that she was a nice person, but Sydney was one of Luthor’s top men. The one who made Superman’s damn prison universe. Now, he’s acting like father-to-be of the year.

You forced a smile. “I like farm animals. They’re classic. You can also find some cute clothes for when the little guy gets there. Harder with fish. And I’ve told you before, you don’t need to call me Mrs. Luthor. You can use my first name.”

“You’re so right. Pregnancy brain’s got me all kinds of messed up.” She waved you off, laughing. The woman was barely pregnant. She found out just a week ago and they were already figuring out nursery themes. “Did you meet the new girl?”

“New girl?” You asked. 

She nods with a grin. Always a gossip, as Lex would say. “A real sweetheart. She just moved in with her husband down the street from us. She’s right over there.”

You glanced to see a woman with dark hair on the other side of the room. An older woman was speaking to her. “Rumor has it that her husband isn’t very faithful.”

“How does she already have rumors about her?” You raised a brow.

She shrugged. “Well, Bethany used to know him. From Metropolis. Said he’s a total womanizer. Surprised she got him to settle down.”

“Hm.” With a dismissive smile, you made your way towards the new woman. Her conversation partner had moved on and she shyly moved to the refreshment table.

She was pouring herself a coffee.. She took the canister of sugar to pour some in.

Then, she kept pouring it in.

You froze. “Lois?”

[odiesdayoff]

Hallowed Be Thy Name (1)

Pair: Lex Luthor x fem!reader

Summary: Lex tries to get Luthoria recognized by the United Nations

Warnings: SMUT (minors DNI); non-con / dub-con (this is a dark storyline but i promise there is light at the end of the tunnel); i don't know anything about the united nations other than what google told me; non-con creampie; rough sex

Prologue

You excused yourself out of Model UN in high school. You never thought you’d be standing in the actual United Nations court. The lace veil covers your hair and Lex’s hand rests on your lower back. Moral support, he claimed the reason you were there to be. That, and to show what Luthorian women are supposed to be behaving. In reality, it was only an invisible collar and leash to make sure you didn’t try anything while left alone in his mansion. He was too smart for that.

Lex steps forward behind the podium with his proposal in hand. “Ladies and Gentlemen of the United Nations, My name is Alexander Luthor and I am President of the country of Luthoria. This land was formerly Jarhanpur and conquered by the Boravian military.” His voice projects, similar to the way he sounded during his services. “What I’m asking for is official recognition of our nation.” 

The representatives sort through the proposal book that held statistics and the official constitution. After a moment, the American representative turns on his microphone for a question. “Mr. Luthor, accepting this nation would be highly controversial. There are detractors and protests around the world that wish for Jarhanpur to remain the country it used to be. How does the Luthorian government deal with this negative press?”

“Negative press? Did Nelson Mandela or Malcolm X think about how the press will take their ideologies?” He balled his hand into a fist, swallowing his anger. Lashing out would only make things worse, he knew. “This change can’t be undone. Jarhanpur is history. Luthoria is now.”

“You can’t possibly be comparing yourself to those who fought for social justice. Your country in itself is an injustice!” Germany scolds. Their representative had been against Luthor even when he was simply a slightly evil businessman. Maybe more than slightly.

He takes a controlled breath. “Surveys show that Luthorian citizens are happier than they were in Jarhanpur and where they emigrated from. Even the women you call oppressed. My wife can attest to that personally.”

A few heads turn to face you and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. Some look with pity, others just morbid curiosity. You take a weary step forward. “Yes. Life is better here in Luthoria.” It felt rehearsed, right out of the script he wrote for you. Only they needed to make their decision on whether or not you sounded like a captive.

~~

“Gross injustices. What a joke.” Lex speed walks down the hall of the building. You try to keep up as he maintains a tight grip on your hand. “Those people were starving and stealing. They’re thriving now.”

Luthoria needed a majority rule vote. It got 40% approval. “At least the United States voted in favor. Damn England decides that now they’ll be committed to stopping injustice as if they still don’t own underdeveloped territories.” He plops down on one of the chairs. “C’mere.”

You sit on his lap and his hands instinctively grip your hips. “You can reapply and make allies in the meantime. The longer he’s gone, the less support he’ll have.”

“Don’t talk about him.” He snaps, hand gripping your throat. His other hand slides down to the hem of your dress. “Talk about me. How not even Superman can make you feel how I do.”

You stand, not entirely eager to start something with him. “Stop that. Your comparisons are moot.”

“Knew I couldn’t squash that faith you have in him.” He gets up, hand reappearing around your neck and pushing you against the wall. “Maybe I can fuck it out.” He squeezes hard enough so that you know you’ll bruise and your vision gets spotty.

After a moment, he released your neck and you fell against him. “You think this is a game that I’m going to lose? Baby, Superman is weak and in my prison. He’s not getting out and saving the damsel in distress from the big, bad, Lex Luthor.” His hands made quirk work of your panties, nearly tearing them off. “The quicker you realize that, the less I have to punish you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring him up.” Your apology fell flat as his fingers worked to circle your clit roughly. He pinched once he knew he’d thrown you off of your tracks. “You don’t have to.”

“Oh, but I do. Who will follow a man who can’t even convince his wife to be on his side?”

“I’m not your wife.” You barely finished your sentence when you felt the harsh and hot sting of his slap against your cheek. It was the first time that he’d disciplined you that way. Your skin felt raw.

“Under the law of every country on this Earth and that rock on your finger, you are. I intend to inflict a fitting treatment for disobedient things like you.” Still reeling from the shock of the slap, you didn’t notice his pants had been undone.

The tip of his cock teased your entrance, gathering the slick that his rough touch had forced out. He wasn’t a complete monster, at least that’s what he told himself. He pushed himself inside of you, slowly and softly as if the past few seconds hadn’t existed at all.

“I wish I could fuck you like this, sweetheart, but your behavior isn’t what warrants a gentle touch.” He shoved you harder against the wall, hands gripping onto your hips hard enough to leave more bruises. You were going to look horrible in the morning.

He didn’t focus on making sure you were enjoying yourself. In fact, he didn’t want you to feel pleasure from the way he rammed his cock into you. It was animalistic. 

Yet, you couldn’t help the familiar coil in your stomach as his tip repeatedly hit your g-spot. 

He stalled, keeping himself buried to the hilt within you and pinned against the wall. He wasn’t coming, just looking at you with a puzzled expression. “You like this, don’t you? I guess I can’t help that you’re a wanton whore for me, can I? That’s not your fault. But how can I make you regret your silly actions?”

The buildup to your orgasm was fading away. Against everything your mind was saying, you tried to move your hips to get some stimulation. All it got was a tsk from Lex and a sheepish whimper from you.

“I know.” He began to fuck you again, this time on a mission. “I respected your wishes before. Painted that face, those tits, even wore a damn condom. Now, I’m coming inside.”

You tensed. “Lex, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to undermine you!”

“Too late for that, babydoll.” You knew he was close. He always gave you stupid nicknames when his other head was the one doing the thinking.

He pushed into you as deep as he possibly could as he came, unnatural warmth from your insides seeped out. His watch beeped. “Shit. Meeting in five. Put your panties back on and don’t you dare clean yourself off. I want my cum to sit inside of you until you’re truly sorry for what you’ve done.”

He tucked himself back in and fixed his suit. “This won’t take long. I’ll be back to check.”

You slid down the wall to the floor, picking up your panties and sliding them onto your legs. A wet spot from his dripping cum already formed. As he left the room, you took a breath and let the tears fall down your cheeks.

This won’t be forever. At least, that’s what you forced yourself to believe.

[odiesdayoff]

Workplace Harassment

quick blurb for kinktober about lex luthor

tw for smut; minors dni; sexual harassment in the workplace; non-consensual handjobs; power imbalance

Lex Luthor was awfully intimidating, more than any other man you’d encountered before. He tapped a stack of papers against his desk and set the neat stack down again. “So, Miss…” The way your name sounded on his lips was like silk. Utter power infused in the timbre. “You’ve set up this meeting on the subject of workplace harassment?”

You nodded, sitting up straighter in the chair. “Yes, Mr. Luthor, sir. I’m one of the junior accountants in the accounting department. The environment has become…too much to simply ignore and go about my workday. Human Resources dismissed my claims.”

“Is that right? I’m sorry about that. I know how catty women can be around the office.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. Even in the relaxed state, his stare burned holes in your chest.

“That’s the thing. There aren’t really women in the department except for me. The male coworkers are harassing me. Sexually harassing me.” You pursed your lips, feeling your cheeks get hot.

“Is that the type of clothing that you typically wear?” He quirked a brow, his eyes drifting from your blouse to your skirt.

“Excuse me?”

He stood, walking around to stand directly in front of you. He wasn’t entirely tall, but he still towered over you as you sat there. “You don’t try to hide your…curves. It’s natural for men to get tempted around a beauty like you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, not wanting to bite back. He wasn’t just your boss, he was the boss. “The way I dress shouldn’t matter.”

“It does, though. I mean, look at you. You’re practically begging for someone to grab a handful of those tits.” As he spoke, he reached over and squeezed your breast through your blouse. He smirked at the way your body went rigid at his touch. “My men work very hard, even down in accounting. They need some release every now and then. Even me.”

He let go of your breast. Your eyes followed his hands as they worked to loosen his belt and free his cock. It stood at attention right in front of you. “I’ll cut you a deal. I’ll tell the guys to quit messing with you.” Precum started to bead at his tip. “If you put those hands to good use.”

You glanced at the door you knew was locked. Nobody would come in to interrupt you. Swallowing your pride, you wrapped your hand around his cock and began to stroke. The precum made it easy for your hand to slide back and forth against him.

Base to tip. Tip to base. You sped up, trying to make it go by as quickly as it possibly could. 

He kept a stern gaze on you despite the way his breath was getting a bit shallow. He grunted, hot cum squirting onto your face. “That’s it. No more whining about dirty jokes or I’ll make good on every thought they’ve had about you. Get back to work.”

[odiesdayoff]

Hallowed Be Thy Name - Prologue

Pair: Lex Luthor x fem!reader

Summary: Superman didn't break out, and Jarhanpur was taken over. Luthoria has become a reality.

All heads in the country bowed to one man: Lex Luthor. "We protect innovation through his intellect. We lean on his every word. What he says is final and the ultimate truth. We worship him. We idolize him. Lex Luthor, our leader, our God, hallowed be thy name." Eyes open as the prayer ends.

"You are free, my children." Lex orders, his arms spread wide.

And one by one, citizens of Luthoria rise, human and meta-human alike, filter out of the arena he used as a church. It used to be home to the official Jarhanpur rugby team, but they were useless even when Jarhanpur was a country. Bottom of the league.

Now it stood as the epicenter of the Church of Luthorism. It was the official religion of Luthoria and also a passionate few groups of ultra-conservative tech bros in the United States and other first-world countries. Critics claim the religion just boils down to Superman = bad and Luthor's metahuman project = good.

Only simpletons would believe that, as Lex would say. He knew all. Even if the citizens were mostly converted by force. The punishment and fear of consequences held them back from speaking or acting out. Luthoria was the future.

Lex pushed through the double doors and into the back halls of the stadium. The occasional stagehand or follower stops him to bow or thank him for his grace. He had one mission: to get home.

Because someone very special was waiting for him. You. The Daily Planet intern turned (kidnapped into) Mrs. Luthor. The First Lady of Luthoria, whether you liked it or not.

You’re reading one of his books when he comes home. Only Luthor-approved literature and entertainment was allowed within the country. Of course his autobiography fit the bill among other non-superhero stories. “Honey? I’m home.” He called, hanging his jacket on one of his robot helpers. They took over to hang and properly clean it.

He sat next to you, pushing your body into the side of the couch. “Are you feeling any better?” He ran his fingers through your hair.

“Yeah. I think rest really helped.” You made a voluntary choice to ease your tense muscles and lay your head on his shoulder.

He pulled you onto his lap, kissing your neck. “You would’ve loved today’s message. It was all about obedience.”

“Oh? And I need a reminder on how to obey?” You quirked a brow.

He smirked. “Oh, no. You obey perfectly fine. In just the ways I need you.” 

His hands wandered from your hair down to your neck, still trailing further down. He didn’t care about your reluctance. You were only a piece of property to him, nothing else. Just like everybody else in Luthoria.

PART ONE

[odiesdayoff]

Riddler Wants A Wife

Pairing: Edward Nashton x fem!Reader

Summary: Congratulations! You've been chosen to be the great Riddler's wife. Whether you like it or not.

Warnings: SMUT NON-CON; fingering; dirty talk; Edward is gross; like filthy; piv sex; kidnapping; idk

Ever since The Riddler mentioned that he was single and hadn’t gotten any in a while, his loyal followers knew what they had to do for him. This would be a surprise for him, after everything that he’s done for this project and the city, it was the least they could do. He deserved what every sigma male desired: a wife that would take care of his every need. 

Although there were women already in the private chats, dedicated to following the Riddler, moderators decided that they didn’t live up to the standard of beauty that he needed. The 500 members sent in pictures of the women in their lives with descriptions that might make them candidates, but more often than not, the act of getting those women were...difficult. 

One of those followers happened to be your older brother, by a few years. He was the stereotypical ‘neckbeard’ that still lived with your parents and blamed women for his perpetual virginity. Not the fact that he didn’t take care of himself or made something of his life.

It took a week into the search for your older brother to send your picture in the chat. It was a few months old, a headshot that you took before audition season came around again. You were a dancer, two years out of university and doing pretty well for yourself, even for Gotham’s standards. You lived with three other dancers in an apartment right next to Gotham Heights.

The moderators agreed that you were the right fit for Riddler, so they let the rest of the chat vote to see if they had finally found their match. You had a 97 percent approval rate. That sounds like a good thing, but being rated by a bunch of creeps that only saw women as objects and idolized a literal serial killer wasn’t ideal.

That’s how you found yourself in a strange man’s bedroom, holding onto a suitcase of clothes that you’ve never seen before. Apparently, everyone pitched in with clothes that they knew he would like. The exchange felt like a drug deal, you moving from one masked man with a gun to your head to another under a bridge in a shady part of Gotham. He didn’t say a word to you yet, which only added to your fear of the man.

His apartment was small and disorganized, traces of his “work” riddled each room. You knew better than to ask, if he was anything like the kind of person your brother was, your safety would be on the line. The suitcase you came in with sat in the corner of the bedroom, still closed. You hoped that they were your size, at least.

“So, um, what would you like me to call you?” He sat at his desk, going over what looked like to be tax forms. Something covered in numbers. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, on sheets you weren’t sure had been washed in a long time. Boy, did you have your work cut out for you.

He looked at you, examining you once again. “Master.” He returned to his work.

You resisted the urge to scoff and tell him off. The masked men made sure that you knew the consequences of creating a problem for him: A bullet in your brain. You nodded.

Nobody, especially you, was going to call him Master. Maybe his followers. You stood, taking the pillows and sheets and attempting to make the bed in a way that looked presentable. Laundry was a tomorrow job. It was already late enough.

Already lost in your head and the menial task of tidying up around the room, you didn’t notice him get up from the desk and put the files away. He stood in the doorway and watched. “So, are you gonna let me fuck you or are you gonna be a bitch about it?”

You stopped in your tracks, looking at him. “Um.” Men were never so...bold towards you, to put it nicely.

He took the hesitancy as an answer. “Don’t worry about it tonight. But once you get settled in, nothing will get me to pull out of you.” He patted your cheek.

It wasn’t a threat, per se. It felt like one, though. 

The first outfit you found in the suitcase was a short, black slip dress. God, these men had no idea what women actually wore outside of anime or porn. Thankfully, it fit. You threw one of his sweatshirts over it to at least feel the tiniest bit of comfort.

Laundry was the main focus of the day. Stripping his bedsheets, picking up clothes left on the floor, and actually folding clothes before they got put back in the dresser. It was a bit freeing to know exactly what was safe and clean versus what wasn’t. You fully expected to be met with a roach when you opened your eyes in the morning. 

Worst thing you found were a few washcloths and socks that were a bit too hard or crusted for your liking. It took a lot in you not to gag as you attempted to hand wash them in the bathroom sink. The water came to be a mix of white and yellow along with the soap. Filthy, filthy man.

In one of the closets, a few small cages were stacked with tiny mice running around in the tiny habitats. You didn’t want to know what he did with the creatures.

In the meantime, you vacuumed and mopped the hardwood floors. The place was looking better by the minute. No more items scattered along the floor or discolored stains in the carpet.  The rotten odor of the mop water every time you dumped it brought tears to your eyes. Has it ever been cleaned? You made a mental note to ask him for a carpet cleaner. There was no way you were touching that until you got a couple rounds of shampoo through it.

It was nearly time for him to return from his job, whatever that could possibly be, when you decided to be done for the day in regards to cleaning.

You searched through the pantry and fridge to figure out something you could make for dinner. He hadn’t exactly given you an idea of what he liked and didn’t like. He had flour and eggs, though. You and your roommates made empanadas all the time.

He opened the door as you were shaping the dough into circles and seasoning the beef as it cooked in a pan (or trying to, the man didn’t have a plethora of seasoning to choose from). He looked around with a surprised smile. “You cleaned.”

You nodded. “Wanted to try and get the more time-consuming tasks done now. Are you vegetarian or anything?”

His arms suddenly wrapped around your waist and he pulled you against his chest. He kissed your neck. “You spoil me, baby. I’ll eat anything you make and hopefully, you'll let me have some dessert.” One of his hands trailed to cup your sex over the thin fabric of the dress and your panties. “I like when you wear my clothes.”

Resisting the urge to gag or kick him off of you was difficult, but you persevered and tried to ease the obvious tension in your back and shoulders. “I don’t really have much to wear otherwise.” You softened your voice to appeal to the archetype of a wife. The hair on the back of your neck stood up.

“You’re so sexy.” He whispers into your hair, his wandering hands exploring every part of your body. “Got my dick twitching every time I remembered I had a sweet thing like you waiting for me at home.” He slipped a finger past your lips, slightly surprised at the ease. “Already wet?”

You whine at the sensation, not used to anything other than a tampon or your own fingers in a long while. For an accountant, his hands were not soft and full of calluses. It could’ve been the gloves he always wore or maybe something different. Either way, you couldn’t deny the way his rough skin created friction within you when he curled his fingers.

The timer you set for the empanadas saved you from having to endure going any further, as he pulled out of you. “It’s ready.”

He felt your slick on his fingers, bringing them together and pulling them apart to see how sticky it was. “Fascinating. Taste yourself.” WIthout warning, his fingers find your lips and push through, resting on your tongue. “Suck.”

The moment you began to suck and really taste his fingers, you nearly gagged. You were familiar with your own bodily fluids, but there was something pungent that you knew couldn’t be your own. Had he just taken the subway and not washed his hands before getting all up in your body? All the Gotham germs creating an ecosystem in your mouth. “So obedient.” He claimed and released your tastebuds from his touch.

You were able to pull the empanadas from the oven and set them on the stovetop to cool next to the steamed broccoli. Dinner now, worry about him fucking you later. Even later, worry about whatever staph infection or UTI this asshole might’ve given you. But now, dinner.

The table was set. Two plates of food on opposite sides of the small table. You couldn’t help but feel the absence of anything between your legs, not that you wanted anything there. You anxiously watched as he ate, the lack of expression was nerve wracking. “Delicious. Don’t know if I prefer this or your pussy.” 

You could hear your heart thumping against your ribcage. “I made a list for the grocery store. You don’t have much.”

“You wanna go outside?” He keeps stuffing his face with the food. Pig. At least savor the taste. “I’ll get it for a price.”

“Price?”

He pushes his plate aside and curls his fingers, beckoning you forward. You push your chair back and take a single step to go around the table. “No. Get on the table and crawl here.”

There’s a single moment where you waited for him to wave you off and tell you that he was only joking. He was a lot less silly for a man known as the Riddler. 

That moment didn’t come.

You gently set your plate aside, the food waiting to be consumed. You’d be eating cold tonight, if at all. His eyes bore into yours as you hoisted yourself onto the table. On your hands and knees, you crawled the short distance from your side to his.

The tip of his nose was almost touching yours. “Take the sweatshirt off.”

With no choice but to comply, you pulled the sweatshirt off of your torso. Shamefully, it was comfortable. “Now, the dress.”

Your fingertips were nearly touching the edge of your dress before he stopped you. “I wanna keep it on. I changed my mind. Just lay back.”

Still you did as he said, laying with your back flat against the table. He gripped onto your ankles and pulled you so that your legs dangle off the side.

The sound of shuffling pants and a zipper getting unzipped was unmistakable. All you hoped was that he was just a one-pump chump. 

It hurt. Worse than you’ve ever felt before. You were not wet, nor did he do anything to help with that. Every inch forced itself dry until your body began producing slick. He gripped onto your thighs and thrust in and out.

This will be your life from now on.

[odiesdayoff]

100 Days; 100 Drabbles

day nine: Clark Kent noticing you're upset with how you look

You've been in the bathroom longer than usual. The annual team photo and individual profiles for the Daily Planet journalists was just last week. Everyone got theirs back just this morning.

All you could notice was how much...bigger you looked. Sure, you gained a little weight over the past year, but you didn't think it was that bad.

You sat at your desk with a huff. The drive folder with the photos was still on your desktop. You brought up the photo from the year before and switched between that and the newest one. It's like you couldn't pull your eyes from the sight of how different you are now.

A stack of files dropping onto your desk did the trick. You were met with Clark's stupid grin. "New case about the river cleanup. It's a bit of a walk, though. Wanna come?"

You shrugged. "Yeah. I could use the walk."

You slung your bag over your shoulder and followed him downstairs. It was hotter than you thought initially, but sweating would work, too.

"Hey, um, did you see the new staff photos? Yours came out really pretty." He started. Something in your head told you that he was only lying to make you feel better, which in turn made you feel even worse.

"You don't have to butter me up. I know how they turned out. I basically took up the entire frame."

He stopped in his tracks and turned to face you. "What?"

"I mean, I'm so much bigger than last year, Clark. It's disgusting." You hugged yourself, then realized how it made you squeeze your stomach in. Maybe that would work.

He shook his head, somehow flabbergasted. "It's not disgusting. You're the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen, and you think you're ugly because, what, you put on a little weight? Come on."

[odiesdayoff]

100 Days; 100 Drabbles

day eight: unrequited love with Peacemaker

Emilia had been unconscious for days now. Everyone left the battle at Coverdale Ranch hanging on to their lives by threads, including you. She got the worst of it.

Adebayo and John went back to work, and Vigilante disappeared. That left you and Chris to wait for Harcourt to wake up.

You return to the hospital's waiting room and take your seat next to him. "I brought ice cream from the good place by the bowling alley." You hand him a cup with his favorite flavor and a plastic spoon. Vigilante would've lectured you on hurting the planet.

He forces a smile and takes it. "Thanks, kid."

Kid. It's like he didn't even see you. He was there for her, but you were there for him. You were the same age as Adrian, and he never called him 'kid'.

You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "She's gonna be fine. She's a fighter."

He puts a spoonful of the ice cream in his mouth and sighs. "It's just...I finally found the love of my life and now, I don't even know if she'll make it."

You hold your heartbreak back. She was the love of his life. It was never going to be you.

[odiesdayoff]

100 Days; 100 Drabbles

day seven: Lois Lane and sister!reader that's dating Lex Luthor

"Are you seriously hearing yourself? You want me to stop writing articles about LexCorp because...?" She should've shut down this relationship the minute you told her about it. Of course, that asshole wormed his way into your naive heart and twisted it. The bruise on your shoulder was reason enough.

"He thinks I'm telling you information! You have to stop and tell Clark to do the same. He gets so angry."

"So you admit that all of the things we're reporting on are true? You hear all of it and still want to be with a man like that? Maybe you deserve it." She knew it was harsh, but you were apparently too stupid to see reason. Not the same girl who would hit an old boyfriend's truck with a golf club when he was caught in another girl's bed.

"He loves me, Lois. You're just jealous that you and Clark don't have what we have!" You defended, knowing that deep down, she was right. Lex was a user, and he was using you as a means to an end, but that didn't stop you from falling for the man.

"Jealous? I wouldn't be jealous of a man who hits me. Or one that leaves you crying on the side of the road because my sister made him mad. See reason." She pleads. She'd do anything to have her sister back.

[odiesdayoff]

100 Days; 100 Drabbles

day six: Sam Wilson making sure you're okay after fighting red hulk

Sam nearly lost the fight, not because of anything physical, though. He had felt fear for the first time in a long time when Ross had thrown a car in your direction.

He retracted his wings and ran as fast as he could to you once he knew the fight was over.

Your hair was tousled, and some cuts littered your face. "Oh, baby. I'm so sorry. I should've protected you." He stumbled over his words, gloved hands tracing the injuries you suffered.

"Hey, hey. I'm okay. It missed me. I'm okay. We're okay." You took his wrists and looked up at him with a reassuring smile. The fight was done. It was just him and you. No monsters or aliens. No Captain America. Just you.

[odiesdayoff]

100 Days; 100 Drabbles

day five: smoking weed with Gideon Gemstone

In the middle of the woods with a bunch of repressed teenagers and no wifi was the last thing on Gideon's mind when he thought of fun activities.

He inhaled the blunt you had given to him, looking out at the lake and the light of the moon's reflection. He knew he shouldn't, but he needed some alone time. Well, alone time with you.

He handed the blunt to you. "I used to come here as a kid. It always seemed so much bigger. And with less spiders in the bathrooms."

"You seemed like one of the kids that had religious epiphanies here. Speaking in tongues in the middle of worship." You quip, passing the blunt back.

Gideon shrugs and inhales the smoke. "Maybe. Smartass."

[odiesdayoff]

100 Days; 100 Drabbles

day four: sensual yoga with jonathan crane

“Are you familiar with yoga?” Crane asks as he walks you towards his office. There was something about this session that scared you more than usual. He had told you about trying new for this session and to wear something you’d be comfortable working out in.

Clearly, you were aware of yoga. It’s not like you lived under a rock. You still went to physical therapy twice a week ever since the accident. “Is…that what we’re doing today?”

He shrugged. "Something like that."

You both enter the small room. The couch is pushed back further to make more room for whatever was happening. You trust Dr. Crane with all of your deepest secrets, this can't be too bad.

"Now, kneel on the mat here." With a hand on your lower back, he guides you to the yoga mat. Once on your knees, he takes your hands and moves you to be in a sort of bridge position. "Good. Good."

He stands and walks around you. "You see, a lot of stress likes to manifest throughout the body rather than just the head. Weight gain, aches and pains...Let's try some new-age therapy."

He positions himself behind you and presses himself against the curve of your ass. His hands start at your hips and dig up to your waist. "You feel that? It's supposed to take that stress right out of your body."

He nearly drapes his body over yours, caressing your sides. It did...sort of feel better. You can't help the strange feeling that lingers in your abdomen when he touched you like that.

It had been a while. "I feel it, Dr. Crane."

By the way he pressed onto you further and gripped you a little tighter, he felt it, too.

[odiesdayoff]

100 Days; 100 Drabbles

day three: college au Riddler as the nerd who teaches the popular girl a lesson (no really smut)

The numbers in his workbook melded together the harder he tried to focus on them. For a moment, he wondered if he had ADD or maybe some kind of learning disability that he’d only recently discovered. No. There was a problem, but it was far from his fault. He only had these attention issues when you were in the room and running your mouth about some petty drama between your sorority sisters.

“She’s just being ridiculous. How does she expect us to side with her in the breakup when we all know she was sleeping with her TA? Not all of us are sluts.” Edward could have burst into laughter right then. You had no right to speak of the sleeping habits of others when he had to purchase noise-canceling headphones just to get a semblance of sleep whenever you spent the night.

His poor, stupid, pussy-whipped roommate barely reacted to your story. He was on the verge of a nap that would last until two in the morning, as usual. “She’s the worst.” For a moment, Edward listened in intentionally to see if you were smart enough to realize his lack of attention. 

“What do you think?” In his peripherals, he could see you looking in his direction. He chose not to react, instead, he returned to his homework with the few seconds of silence that he had. “I know you’re not doing any work, Eddie. Haven’t heard your loud ass pencil in a few minutes.”

He fucking hated Eddie. As a child, he always imagined that his mother would’ve called him that. He would’ve brought home a perfect score on a test in school and she would have given him a kiss on the cheek and told him that she was proud of him. 

Maybe his father would’ve used it. When he fought back against the school bullies, he’d get sent home to get scolded by his mother until his father returned home. Expecting punishment, he would get a firm pat on the back and a quiet “Atta boy, Eddie.”

Nobody was there to call him that, though. It only built up resentment for the nickname he was deprived of. “I don’t give a shit.” In the beginning of the semester, he’d actually tried to play nice with you. He didn’t miss those days where he had to hold back his tongue at the borderline idiotic things you would never shut up about. 

He returned to his work. Only a few more lines to fill in until he was finished for tonight. “You don’t have to be the stereotype of the STEM major. You know, like, not being antisocial.”

You were relentless. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m actually quite social. I just associate myself with people of a higher caliber of intelligence.”

“I have a 4.0 and have been on the Dean’s list every semester since I got here.” You crossed your arms and sat up straighter.

He dropped his pencil on his desk and finally turned to face you. “A 4.0 in music theory is nowhere near a 4.0 in a real academic course load.” There was no way that you were even good at what you did, not like it was hard. The only time that he’s seen you was in his room, never outside or on campus accidentally. It was possible that you spent your time in the music building, one that he had no use for anything he did and had never been in, but that idea was not plausible whatsoever.

“I’d like to see you try to compose a symphony while you’ve got six other classes to tackle. Most music classes are literally half a credit. You wouldn’t believe my work load and I still have time for a social life. Seems like you’re struggling with a little bit of math.” Your voice acquired a bit of a mocking tone, not that you weren’t afraid to use it on Edward. Someone needed to take the pretentious loser down a peg and it might as well be you.

“Don’t need what you define as a social life.” He grumbled into his paper, trying to finish the last few lines so he could at least go into the lounge and read a book or something. Maybe practice his coding. Anything to get away from you.

You shook your head. He was ridiculous, as always. “When was the last time you’ve gotten any? Or, oh, you’ve never done it before?” Your boyfriend stirred in his sleep, but only rolled over and continued to lightly snore. “Is that it? You’re a sad, little virgin?”

He slammed his hands against the desktop and stood, pushing his chair back enough that it scraped against the floor. “As opposed to what? A dumb fucking whore like you?”

You pushed your boyfriend’s legs off of your lap and hopped off of the bed. “Like me?” Standing in front of him, you were reminded of how tall he was. Over six feet at least. Everything about him gave 5’7 at most. You never considered yourself a short person, but this was ridiculous.

“You’re used to everyone lying to you, but I don’t give a shit about your feelings. You’re nothing but dumb cunt that’ll spread her legs for the first football team idiot who walks up to her.” He was in your face now, a distance you’ve never been before with him. 

“Is this the closest you’ve ever been to a woman? Or are you just jealous I don't spread my legs for you?” He gripped your chin and squeezed just under your cheekbones, forcing your mouth to stay open. He smirked at your shock.

"Listen to me, bitch." He spit in your mouth, then held your jaw shut. “Your boyfriend may be hypnotized by your mediocre pussy, but I have brains. And standards. Now, swallow.”

Something about his command sent shockwaves between your legs. You tasted his saliva on your tongue, then swallowed as he said.

It was as if he could see the confusion and arousal swirling within your eyes. A smirk rose. “You’re getting all worked up over me, huh?”

You pulled away from his grasp. “Not at all.”

He crossed his arms. “You’re not dripping through those lace panties? Please."

[odiesdayoff]

100 Days, 100 Drabbles

day two: been thinking of this idea with homelander. lmk if you wanna see it fully fleshed out!

"Tell me it's not true!" You nearly tripped over yourself trying to catch up with Homelander's long strides down the hall. Your heels threatened to snap.

He groaned and finally stopped, causing you to walk right into his chest. "What do you want me to say?"

"Say you're not fucking that old hag behind my back and that you're a loyal boyfriend." You step back, feeling much smaller in his shadow.

The hall was completely empty, a bit unusual considering it was midday on a Tuesday. Maybe they were out to lunch.

"Christ, you're still upset by this? I've been with Stilwell longer than we've even known each other. You can't start making demands like some controlling-" He stopped himself, not wanting to make you angrier.

"Finish it."

"Like some controlling bitch." He spat. "You don't fuck other guys because you're mine. I can do whatever I damn well please because I'm Homelander." He shoved your chest enough to have you stumbling back.

You crossed your arms. "No. You're wrong. You're mine just as much as I am yours! I'll prove it."

He smirked. "Yeah? Weak little human's gonna prove how she owns me?"

"You're gonna invite Stilwell to your room. She's gonna sit her ass down and watch me fuck you. You and I both know she can't give you what I can." Your voice was firm, with stupid determination.

He looked down at you, considering. "You want to show her that you tamed the big, bad Homelander? Let's go, then."

[odiesdayoff]

100 Days; 100 Drabbles

day one: here's a quick Lex Luthor smut!

You hated yourself. It was really that simple.

It was nearly one in the morning and you were on your knees in the back of a limo with Lex Luthor’s cock stuffed down your throat. His hands were entangled in your hair and pressing the back of your head further down. 

There wasn’t a real reason that you kept coming back to him other than your own addiction to humiliation. If your friends knew, they’d either give you that all too familiar disappointed sigh or cook you over sleeping with a bald guy.

“That’s it, babygirl.” He moans, leaning his head back. He was a man of routine and repetition. When his grip gets tighter and he starts to buck up into you, he’s close to finishing. “You’ll swallow it all for Daddy, yeah?”

You had never uttered the word Daddy to him. That was a moniker he awarded to himself when he wanted to feel superior to you. You moan in response.

His warm cum shot into your throat, and you did your best to swallow without choking over it.

Once you finally sat in the seat and wiped the remnants of him from your lips, he was on his phone. He glanced up for a moment, grimacing. "You're still here?"

[odiesdayoff]

I must know that I haven't hallucinated this, but there was this fic in the mcu biker universe

the reader insert was sam wilson's sister and the biker peter parker was into them

it was a dark fic and i can't seem to find it anywhere someone if you know what im talking about please lmk!!!