Daily affirmation: Your favorite fictional guy would totally like you if he was real and if you're desperately and passionately in love with him, he'd be desperately and passionately in love with you too.
I respect a woman capable of killing me by @njghtiee - in which Damian and reader's "Mortisha and Gomez" flavored relationship is endearingly concerning to the rest of the batfam. The perfect mix or fluff and humor.
Seven Years of Secrets by @jellyfishsthings - reader rushes to the batcave upon hearing that Damian got injured, which leads to the batfam finding out about their secret seven year long relationship. Clearly written with so much intention and care, so tender and lovely.
he's drunk and clingy by @justjjkin - Damian drinks a little too much at a gala (aka much more than he ever drinks); you pleasantly discover how clingy and affectionate drunk Damian can be. A little bit of silly and whole lot of love, utterly adorable.
Damian discovers cuteness aggression by @arachnidseyes - Everyone thinks Damian's relationship is tense and stressful, but in reality it's absolutely perfect and he just doesn't know how to deal with it other than with physical violence. Very fluffy and light and silly, god I love this emotionally repressed assassin.
oh my wife...
pairing: husband!hannibal x wife!reader
genre: domestic • comfort • parental
notes: I had this thought of husband!hannibal and wife!reader giving morticia and gomez vibes for a while now so enjoy this little imagine/hc; also based on my poll if hannibal ever had kids they'd equally be little shits and I must firmly agree, the evil petty gene dies hard; maybe a little off canon bahavior but... I have free will (GRAHAM??? dun dun...)
MINORS DNI!!
masterlist
─── ꒰ 🧸 ꒱ ───
Your son, Cassian, had come rushing into the living room to you, tears streaking his little face, something that would alarm any mother instantly
You barely had time to register the situation or collect any clues on why he had been so upset.
It wasn't entirely unusual for your little gift to be worked up, he was particular, just like his father, but today he told you what had ruffles his feathers right away
Hannibal had, apparently, yelled at the poor boy, something you certainly did not condone
You could excuse murder, but this is where you draw the line. (/ref)
So you now found yourself walking to Hannibal's office, Cassian close behind you, holding onto the hem of your dress as he trails behind you
Hannibal rarely raises his voice, especially not in front of the children, but the way Cassian was trembling and sobbing makes you hold onto the truth in his accusation.
Hannibal looks up from his desk as you enter, "Darling, how can I–"
"Hannibal, don't." you sharply interrupt his smooth words. in sharply, pointing back at Cassian, who sniffles and presses closer to you.
Hannibal blinks once, before his gaze shifts to his son.
"Now... what do we have here?"
"He said you yelled at him..."
"I corrected him..." Hannibal says calmly.
Your voice tightens with emotion as you remind him that Cassian is a child, your child nonetheless, behind you Cassian nods and clutches your dress, sniffling a bit
Hannibal's gaze flicks between you and your son, he lets our a thoughtful, maybe almost amused hum
"Cassian, do you have something to say?" Hannibal asks, seemingly already one step ahead.
You glance down at Cassian again, his expression shifted, the tears having stopped, his expression almost smug
You bite the inside of your cheek, caught somewhere between hurt and something dangerously close to pride, before sinking down to Cassian's level and kissing the top of his head, fingers brushing gently through his soft hair.
"My little Cassian" you sigh, fond despite yourself.
"Just like papa, aren't you?"
"Perhaps, too much like me..." Hannibal said, amused as he watched you
Cassian looks up at you, wide-eyed and calculating now, his earlier tears completely gone
Hannibal sighs, indulgent rather than irritated, he knew to feed a hungry boy like Cassian early
"Manipulation is an art, Cassian. But artistry requires refinement." His gaze slides to you, "Your mother, however, knows exactly when she is being played."
He rises from his desk and comes to meet the two of you, but he didn't crouch down with you
Instead his hand settled on the back of your head, "And yet she indulges you anyway... why do you think that is? Because of her kindness or because of her weakness?" he continues thoughtfully, thumb tracing slow circles against the back of your head
Cassian hesitates for only a moment before answering with complete certainty: "Kindness!"
Hannibal lets out a low, pleased chuckle and presses a kiss to your temple.
"A diplomatic answer, I see."
He stands and offers you his hand without question.
Relief washes through you the moment Hannibal touches you, because despite everything, he is your world, and so you take his hand, standing up straight, palm settling against his chest as you nuzzle instinctively into the crook of his neck.
"Our little Hannibal..." you hum with quiet amusement.
Hannibal's arm slips securely around your waist, drawing you closer
He smiles faintly against your hair, "Yes..." he agrees softly. "Our little prodigy."
You scoop Cassian up into your arms then, pulling him into the circle you and Hannibal have formed, cradling him against your chest.
"Aren't you proud you're just like Papa, my bird?" you ask gently.
Hannibal watches the two of you with something almost tender in his eyes, his hand resting warm and steady at your hip.
Cassian looks up at him, "I want to be better."
Hannibal reaches out and tucks a stray lock of hair behind Cassian's ear, the gesture deceptively gentle.
"A dangerous ambition, and one I expect from you."
Hannibal leans in close, breath brushing your temple as he speaks only for you,
"He will surpass me one day. And I will savour every moment of watching him try."
The words send a shiver full of conflicting feelings through you.
Pride, uncertainty, fondness... but you accept it all the same, leaning closer into both Hannibal and Cassian, your gaze softening as it settles on your husband.
"Oh, my husband..."
Hannibal's fingers trace the line of your jaw, before he cups your face fully
"Oh, my wife." with that soft low voice that you know is only meant for you "You bind us all together so beautifully."
Hannibal presses his forehead to yours, "You are the gravity in our orbit, and we, my dear… merely circle you. And I would tear the world apart to keep you at the center."
A faint blush covers you as you smile and answer him, "Oh, my most beloved… what would I be but a hopeless bird if you hadn't caught me?"
You kiss him gently, feather-light, and Hannibal returns it while his hand cradles the back of your head
"Hopeless? Never... You were always meant to be caught. And I was always meant to be the one to do it."
Cassian squirms between you with a quiet, offended sound, clearly unimpressed and unpleased with the lack of attention he was receiving from his mother now, even despite his devious plan
Hannibal glances down at him, "Patience, Cassian... your mother is mine first."
He lifts Cassian from your arms and sets him gently on the floor, smoothing his hair once.
"Go find your sister. And refrain from further schemes for the day..." he adds calmly.
Cassian meets his father's gaze, then huffs and stalks away.
Hannibal watches him disappear before turning back to you, drawing you effortlessly into his arms once more.
"He is just like me..." he muses, humoured. "A tragedy for us all."
"Tell me, love," he asks softly, eyes searching yours. "Do you regret it?"
You melt against him, amused warmth in your voice as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck.
"Regret bringing such a rotten gift into the world?" you hum. "How could I ever?"
"Rotten..." he repeats fondly. "Ungrateful. Manipulative. Brilliant. The best of both of us..."
"What was once yours and once mine..." you hum, smiling, "now united forever in something sweetly sick."
Hannibal exhales a low, pleased breath against your ear.
"Perfectly so."
He tilts your chin up gently, gaze dark and adoring. "Would you have it any other way?"
The Dean calls you into her office as your Professor is being charged with SA...She's got all your erotica. and photos. What should you do?
WARNING: Not Sane Decisions / SA /Dead Dove Don't Eat / Manipulation / Bad Doc / Bad Professor / Dark Prof Harkness / Unconsensual Photos / NON CON / Non CON Kink / Victim Blaming / Defending the Guilty / Manipulation Love, Not in Right Mind / Bad Relationship / Blackmail / DARKFIC / Yandere / Non Con Somnophilia / Breaking In / Cops Involved / F*'d Up Fic / 18+ - REACH CHAPTER TWO HERE
“Did you hear that Professor Harkness, as in like the head Psycholog, is being arrested for sexual harassment?”
“Hard Ass Harkness? No way, I thought she was too old to fuck, much less fuck a student!?”
“Someone said she broke into a sorority girl’s house and took dirty pictures?”
“I heard she broke into their computer and like read their diary or something?”
“No fucking way, I heard she like pissed on this girl in her office hours and is into some BDSM Fifty shades type shit?”
You walked around the gaggle of students huddled around the coffee cart, completely missing their rumors.
Unphased by them in fact, you were twenty-nine, here for your PhD, and you hadn’t eaten today. Why would you care what a bunch of young freshmen said? Both your AirPods were on noise cancellation mode as you only took the right one out to step up and order a hot Earl Grey tea with cream and sugar.
You pay and tip, even though you don’t have the four dollars for the tea much less the two dollars to tip the cart. But you’d worked enough jobs like this to never short someone.
The barista smiles and thanks you, and you walk to the end to wait, hearing Professor Harkness name now, you keep one headphone out.
You’d had a crush on Dr Harkness since your freshman year. Who wouldn’t?
She was gorgeous in her pant suits, or giant 80’s glasses, her long hair curling like she was some kind of evil queen in a Disney movie.
She had this raw sex appeal which, if anyone ever told her about - she’d probably diagnose as some Freudian issue and a need to ejaculate in a male-dominated world.
But fuck if you didn’t get lost listening to her in a lecture as that little rasp made you fidget in your seat.
Her boobs on display on Tuesdays, where you figured she got her dry cleaning. But on Friday, she was back to dress pants and a sweater that looked so soft.
Sure you could self diagnose that you had Mommy issues, because the idea of her spanking you and then you crying in release from endorphins onto that pretty sweater against her collar bones made you weak.
But self diagnosis were messy, and Professor Harkness always said to try to stay away from such things.
So you drooled from both your mouth, and sometimes creating wet underwear in her classes three times a week.
You were In your last year, almost done with this, you’d done your rounds in the ER. You wanted to be a therapist, you had like, six more credits and about eighty nine more office hours to complete.
But you weren’t itching to leave, no senioritis. Nu-uh, you were already regretting not getting to sit in front of Dr. Harkness and listen to her in-depth talk about why we study emotions.
What did getting a psychology degree even really do for any of us?
You should be embarrassed that you practically melted in front of the 50-year-old doctor. That you had such a crush on your professor and you were fucking almost thirty - it should be embarrassing.
But you’d kept your distance, never staying late enough to be called to stay. Answering questions when she called on you, but never raising your hand.
You kept it strictly professional, and you even turned down her email about being her TA. Explain you had too many internship hours to conduct.
Then that was it, there was no cute love affair, or sexy sticky office hours.
Not like whatever these people were saying.
Which made you almost want to stick up for your favored professor, but you kept your mouth shut as they just got more and more ugly in their gossip.
Making you more and more guilt-torn for your eavesdropping.
“I bet she’s into cockwarming that silicone.” One of the guys put his hands out like someone was sitting on his cock as he thrust up. One girl scoffed, but the other giggled and added;
“Nah, she got caught hacking some poor student's hard drive. I mean she has to be into erotica and power dynamics. Why else would she break all these rules to do a student?”
Your face screwed in disgust at their rumors, your name got read out from the barista, and you got your tea and left.
Stomping away a little harder then necessary as you b-lined it to your class, Harkness hallowed grounds, the best part of the university.
It’s old arches and smell of library and ink is comforting, you take your identification card and swipe it to get trough the library, then up the back stairs up to the top floor where Harkness main classroom sat.
The whole thing was a little Hogwarts-y for your millennial heart, minus the transphobia.
There were about half as many people as the start of the semester, just like every quarter. People dropped like flies, not simply because it was impossible in 2026 to get your PhD and be able to eat food. But because Professor Harkness was notoriously difficult to pass.
She hadn’t given a student an A since the 90’s, well, supposedly.
You were in B territory, which with your study partner/almost friend Alice told you was impossible. The best of her class averaged a B- to C, people usually fled for a different major or different school once learning that Professor Harkness was the head of the Psychology deparntment.
Some said her heel impressions on the old marble library were proof that this gorgeous wing with all it’s funding was the best in all nine surrounding states because she killed someone to get it.
You plop down next to Alice as she twists around to talk to you, she’s closer to her mid-thirties and has come back for her PhD but she’s by far the most fun person you’ve studied with in all your years of school.
Not simply because you two would drink Margaritas out of travel mugs in the library together, but she genuinely wanted to be a therapist.
Her mother's untimely death motivated her; you felt a kinship for being lost souls in need of saving the world.
Dr. Harkness had nicknamed the savior complex in your first semester of this program, saying those of us bleeding hearts were the reason why Dr’s lost their minds, or crosseed patient doctor lines.
That caring would only carve away at us.
But you and Alice didn’t want to give up, and you sorta thought the Professor enjoyed that about the two of you. It showing in your papers, or at least that what you hoped.
Still, as you plopped down with your tea Alice didn’t even let you set it down and get out your laptop before she dished her own tea.
“Did you hear Hard Ass is being arrested?”
You looked at her, confused, even though you’d just heard all those rumors you still didn’t understand it.
“Who?” You clarified, sure that your Professor would walk in any moment with her heels and her chin held high, talking to you about what makes a pervert.
Alice leaned forward, a pen between her fingers and one in her hair, as she told you the hot gossip.
“Professor Harkness is in the Dean's office as we speak, probably being arrested, but for sure being fired. Everyone's convinced that we’re going to have to retake the whole semester, because Harkness never hired a TA. Plus, all the other professors haven’t ever subbed for her, like, who would be her backup? We have that presentation in like two weeks, we worked so hard - now-” Alice was talking too fast, which you understood to mean she hadn’t taken her normal adderall half but instead forewent it this morning for a double shot of espresso.
You shake your head as though it switched the channel or erased the ethisketch of whatever this was.
“Stop, go back. Harkness is currently being arrested?” You didn’t want to talk about your project; you wanted to know what the fuck was happening with your fearless leader.
“Two cops, one of them fucking hot latina, one of them butch as hell. I guess they called two lady cops to be kind to the victim? I don’t know, but for sure reminds me of our whole PTSD and sexual harassment unit. It sorta reeks of the University trying to cover their own ass.” Alice didn’t take a breath as she continued.
You were frozen, still holding your steaming cup, bag on the floor, eyes only growing bigger.
“What did they accuse her of?” You could hear the good doctor reminding you that accusing only is victim-blaming, we’re psychologists, not lawyers. It’s not guilty until proven innocent; that’s not how you talk to someone in trauma work.
Alice either didn’t remember that day or didn’t care because she didn’t even slow down.
“Harkness was caught red-handed with multiple sexual harassment bits. I think someone said that they confiscated her non-work computer because it had been logged in for school official work - but they found all of it on her hard-drives. She’s like been obsessed with one student for years, even hacked her shit to see that she’s been writing like erotica and poetry or something. I don’t know, it’s all he said she said. But we’re all in here waiting for someone to tell us this course is canceled, or if it’s just this week, ya know?” Alice had lived too much of life to be really surprised by this.
You on the other hand, had put Harkness on a pedestal for too long to be over this change of character all at once.
You asked the question you were afraid to, the one you knew was inappropriate.
“Does anyone know who the girl is?” It was by far the most insensitive thing to ask, but you were still human, watching a train wreck happening, unable to look away. One more rubberneck to the collision.
“No ones said yet, I don’t know if she’s in there with them or if like - maybe she filed the complaint, no wait, someone else said another professor who works under Harkness suspected. I don’t know, honestly, the whole thing sounds like a mess.”
You don’t let Alice twist back around to ask another person for clarification; you jump at the chance to defend. Proving that you were a foster kid by your strange brand of loyalty.
“So, so then she could be innocent, right?” You say it with too much heat and Alice looks at you as though you were naive.
“I don’t think so sweetie, I mean, she’s being cooperative, which could be her own guilt on it. It’s years of it though, and her hard drives being confiscated like that….I think she’s in major trouble.” Alice doesn’t sound judgmental as much as sad to have to be the one to pop the bubble for you on your crush.
Alice was queer and had a pulse; she knew how you ached for the Doctor who was old enough to be your Mother.
Before you could counter with anything else Professor Maximoff walked in, you knew Billy her son, he was probably late to class like usual but he’d studied with you and Alice plenty.
The Sokovian Professor with her dark red heels and tweed jacket commanded the classroom that wasn’t even hers.
Walking to the front and waiting not so patiently as everyone settled, once there was silence, she readied herself to deliver the news.
“I realize that a few of you have already heard some form of the truth. Or more gossip, eitherway. None of which I’m going to clarify or explain to you now. As the board will be giving a full investigation into it all. I’m not here to answer any questions on the matter of Professor Harkness. I’m here to answer your questions on the remainder of the curriculum. I spoke with your professor, and I will be subbing forhis class. Until the foreseeable future or if things change dramatically.” Wanda’s eyebrows raise and drop as though that’s not really a possibility.
There was a loud commotion, not happy or unhappy, just a lot of noise and she used her mom voice to command it.
“If you have any problem with that, you are free to talk to your councilier but you won’t be dropping this far in, you’ll need to adapt to this or leave. Now today's class is canceled, as is this week's class. I’m here to answer questions for the next three chapters. My office hours include this hour and tomorrow’s at noon, but I’d like you to come with me for questions on this big paper you have due.” Wanda turned to see the chalkboard, like double-checking the due date.
As she was turned, the door opened, everyone turning to see who it was, you’d expected Billy.
But were treated instead by Professor Potts from statistics and business. Which you were confused by as much as the rest of the students.
She also happened to be a part of the board. Which was strange seeing as she still taught classes. But when your husband buys the school a new pool you get things others don’t.
Still, Potts stood and scanned through the crowd for a moment.
“Sorry to interrupt Professor Maximoff, I’m looking for…” She continued to look through the crowd then as her eyes landed on you, she used your first and last name.
Everyone got very quiet.
You were still holding your cup, not sure what to do, a sort of deer in the headlights.
But you heard a few frat boys whispering behind you.
“She’s Harkness’s cum cutie?”
Then the other guy giggle just a bit.
You didn’t stand, just as Potts waited for you to move.
Alice elbowed you, then grabbed your bag for you, manhandling you to stand. Putting the straps over your arms like it was your first day of school.
Which was a little embarrassing on it’s own but you were still confused, where as the rest of your classmates were not.
“Don’t say anything you don’t want to. Babe, you gotta get up. They’re waiting for you.” Alice whispered loud enough for even Potts to hear you, but you grasp your bag harder and turn to walk down to the exit.
You stand in front of Pepper Potts, having never been in her orbit, and now on the receiving end of some kind of pity look.
Alice is behind you, which you don’t even register.
But as the strawberry blonde looks around you to see the asian tough goth ready to mama bear for you, you feel like you might be sick.
“Wu-Guliver, she won’t be needing your assistance.”
“Someone should be there with her.”
“Go back to your seat.” Potts presses more firmly, making your now for sure friend scoff in anger.
Maximoff watches just like the others as you seem to be walking out with half the audience judgement on being a whore, and the other seeing a victim.
Alice grabs your elbow and you spin to her, she hugs you for the first time, really tight. Then says in your ear, “Ask for a lawyer, don’t incriminate yourself for a thing.”
Then she releases you, and somehow you are walking next to Pepper Potts through the campus, but even as you leave the classroom, people are watching, staring.
You don’t know what to say so you just walk in silence, heading to the Deans office.
You spot in the parkinglot two police cruisers, thinking of what Alice said. You had a rough childhood, so the idea of police in there didn’t comfort you.
You pinched your shoulderblades back and held your head high as Potts opened the front door of the office.
The dean, Valentina Allegra De Fontaine, was known as a real bitch, who liked sorority girls in need of some money.
Her young front desk assistant didn’t say a word as Potts opened two door and you were ushered into a gorgeous main office of the dean of the school.
Who was sitting at her desk with two officers looming over the room.
The latina had her hands on her belt, intimidating to say the least, while the other one who’s older with her giant coat and boots is taking notes.
You see on the dean's desk is a computer, as well as forms, papers and folders. A purse was dumped upside down, and the main event, the Professor in the hot seat.
Agatha Harkness with her glasses, is sitting legs crossed over the other, heel lifted with an impartial look on her face.
A stone cold facade, her poker face is impeccable, and as you walk in she doesn’t pay you a glance.
“Here she is.” Dean Valentine says standing up and puts her hands out as though you were a survivor. But she was not touching you, afraid of more legal fall out.
The spitting image of the queen of hearts seeing Alice in her court for the first time.
“Can I get you something to drink, something to eat?” Val sees your tea still in hand and corrects. You shake your head, but you keep your chin up just like Dr Harkness is doing.
“What’s this about?” You question, even as the evidence sits in front of you.
Harkness's eyes cast down, as though she doesn’t want to look at the evidence with you in the room.
“Good afternoon Ma’am, My names Detective O’Connor, that’s my partner Officer Vidal. We’ve been called in here today to go over the school's claims of your professor breaking into your home, your computer, and sexually harassing you.” The one in flannel says and you can’t breathe.
You brush it off by looking down to throw away your coffee cup. Play it cool, don’t incriminate yourself.
“I’m sorry?” You say as though you need her to repeat it. You don’t look at your Professor and she doesn’t look at you. Her posture rim rod straight, her face unfeeling.
Agent Vidal gives it a shot now;
“Ma’am, have you been aware of the sexual misconduct of your professor?”
Your eyes feel as though they might pop out of your head.
“Professor…Harkness?” You double check, feeling stupid now.
Val gives Potts a look of concern, as though maybe she may need a union rep or something for this all. School counsilor at the least?
Potts nods and goes outside to see what kind of legal team they might need in this conversation.
“Ma’am you seem unaware, so let us present the items.”The butch cop says and you arch an eyebrow. Val puts her hand out for you to step closer to her desk, but it feels like a host at a dinner showing you to your seat.
You look at the desk and see the computer yes, but also around 200 polaroids, a few items of your clothing, a stuffed animal you’d thought you’d misplaced. Then four of your notebooks, all of them with the erotica and smut you’d written. You were sure you’d put them in a box under your bed once they were full; they were the rough drafts before you’d posted them on a website.
One that was funding you in fact, you made money off of your art. But not here it was in front of real people, and you were in hell.
All of them full of kinky actions, much non consensual between a self inserted character…and an older woman who was dominant…with dark hair….blue eyes….oh fuck.
You look at your professor but she still won’t meet your eyes.
Somewhere between not admitting guilt and also unable to admit what she’d done. But why wouldn’t she look at you?
Why wasn’t she putting up any fight?
Harkness was argumentative to a fault, and here she was calmly allowing this to all happen.
You reach out to push one of the polaroids over to to see better when the cops put their hands out.
“Please don’t touch the evidence.” They say at the same time to stop you, but you see Harkness naked body near your sleeping form anyway.
You look up, not wanting to blush at the scene and see more.
“What is my professor being charged with?” You ask, the wheels turning as fast as you can grease them in your mind.
“We’re making sure we get all the evidence, and of course, your statement, then taking her down to the station to charge her.” Vidal gives a non-answer so as to not shoot the investigation in the foot.
You look down at the computer again, begging yourself to solve this puzzle.
When you look back down at the photos, seeing Harkness touching you in your sleep, when your heart clenches.
You’d wanted this so bad, but here it was and now it was going to ruin the Professor forever.
Sure you were assigning guilt to yourself where it wasn’t needed, but you’d have time to unpack that another time.
You look down at the leather journals you’d wrote all the filthy things in and it’s like a lightbulb comes on.
Your sick creativity finding a new road to go down.
You square your shoulders back and calm yourself, collecting it all up inside of your chest.
“Did Professor Harkness give you her bag before you dumped it?” You ask now making everyone stare at you, even the Doctor who was about to be in handcuffs.
“Excuse me?” Val’s anger flashed hot faster than the officers could sense where this was going.
“Those are my and my girlfriend's possessions. I don’t see why you thought looking through it was appropriate if anything, you’ve committed an unlawful search and seizure. This is a University yes, but there’s nothing in that bag that belongs to the school.” You point to it all, Harkness jaw drops just a bit, not enough for anyone else to notice, though, watching you in horror.
“Ma’am are you telling me this is all-” O’Connor questioned, and you grabbed your Professors leather big purse stuffing all of the contents into it quickly and sternly.
“I’m the girlfriend, all of this was consensual, what you are seeing was two adults engaging in a kink relationship on their own time away from the campus. Anything you want to charge my girlfriend with would be what I claimed. I consented.” You stab your fingers down onto the computer next and start to take it off the desk.
No one moves, too shocked at your testimony, even Agent Vidal’s scratching under her chin in confusion.
“No, no- no you’re asleep in some of these-looking practically drugged!” Dean Val yells and you smile sinfully, causing all of them to see a new side of you.
“The kink you’re looking for is somnophilia, which I’m sure you read the first two chapters of my notebooks to see the stories of.” You reach across the desk at the notebooks, only for O’Connor to finally wake up and put a hand on top of.
Pepper comes back in with three suits and shuts the door, as she catches up with what’s happening. Door opening again as more men walk in with opinions.
“These are-”
“Mine, property of me. You’ll see that in the first page with my name in them. Just as you probably saw the website, of all-of all of our sexual incounters written as fiction.” You lie on your lie on your lie, stacking them up as the adults in the room blush, having read enough of your erotica to be bashful once it’s author was in the room.
“Sweetheart, you don’t need to-” Dean Val starts but you snatch the notebooks from under the cop's hands and throw them in their plastic evidence bag into Harkness's bag.
“No rules were broken, everything was consensual! My apartment is off campus not college property at all. How would Harkness have found my house if she didn’t also have the key I gave her? We’re in a committed relationship. All of our intimate time was off campus, we have never crossed the rules.” You ask, going on a hope and a prayer. But as O’Connor sighs and lifts the keys that were your teachers, she holds them up to be sure.
You take your lanyard out and hold it up; you’re gambling, but from 200 photos you figure Harkness had to have found your spare key.
The butch cop matches two keys and looks over at the Dean now suspecting her of something.
“You didn’t check with the student before dumping the professor's things upside down?”
“We got a tip!” The Dean spat back maliciously, but Agent Vidal scoffed and shook her head.
“I’m twenty nine years old, I’m getting my PhD, there’s nothing in the school handbook against PhD students sleeping with their professors. I’m about to graduate, everything was consensual, you fire the professor and I’ll go public about how this university seems to be homophobic and kink shame it’s queer professors.”
The Dean was reeling as both cops were already closing their notebook to drop it.
“You can’t be serious, you don’t believe-” The Dean pointed to you and Potts cleared her voice for one of the board members who had just walked in.
You turned up the heat once more, not looking at Agatha Harkness.
Afraid if you saw her you’d break, you’d been working too hard on this act to let a crack in the facade happen now.
But Doctor Harkness wasn’t making any facial expressions, though her eyes never left you.
You see Tony and Howard Stark two of the old money buffoons who were heads of the board for this school.
Fuck this, you couldn’t end it here.
You twist to bitchy Dean Val and take a shot in the dark like the keys, playing a laywer in this room.
“It’s all hypocrital of you, because Mel is a student here and yet you fuck her on campas.” The collective intake of breath in the room worked just as you’d hoped.
“I feel if the board wants to start talking about professors fraternizing with PhD students, they might want to look into their Dean doing it on office hours first, sound good?” You twist around to see both Starks smirking and trying to hide their smiles.
The room is quickly cleared out of you and your professor as others have questions for the dean now.
Harkness lesson on manipulation, specificly triangular types of manipulation came in handy. Shifting the spotlight on another, it was low, fuck it was cruel. But you’d just saved Harkness from handcuffs.
You get pushed out basically, you hand Harkness the bag, but her hand grabs the top of yours and she opens her mouth to say something.
But as Mel is called into the back office, Agent Vidal takes a step out to stop you both.
“This is all gonna get dropped pretty quick it looks like, but Dr Harkness, you might want to find yourself a good lawyer, you have tenure, might wanna keep it. I don’t think this will be the last time they come after you too.” The officer nods to both of you. Obviously a queer alley who see’s this differently now.
She grabs the office door to go back to where there’s already shouting. She stops to look at you both one last time. Harkness warm hand still ontop of yours.
“Doc, you got a good one, I’d put a ring on it.” She shrugs, knowing that could get her in trouble, then goes back into the office.
You pull your hand away. Then you and Dr Harkness leave the office, walking towards the parking lot. Strides matching each other with every step.
You look over your shoulder to where you’re going to need to walk home, unsure on what to say now.
But as Harkness walks to the front corner where her employe amazing parking spot is, you lick your bottom lip and think of what to say.
“Professor-” You start but she shakes her head, not here, not now.
“Get in.”
REACH CHAPTER TWO HERE | READ CHAPTER THREE HERE
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Themes:red hood x reader (established relationship),gn reader
a/n:got inspired by my baby cousin.
You hummed as you walked towards your home, opening the door as the eighth month old strapped on you currently wiggling her chunky legs and resting her chubby cheeks on the carrier patiently waiting.
You sat on the couch with her on your lap as she looked around the unfamiliar place silently while eating her teether.
After a while,The window slowly opened and Jason jumped inside, sighing heavily.
“Hey,hon-who's that ?”
he pointed at the cut lil dumpling who was staring at him with boba eyes while eating her teether with determination.
“My niece, she's gonna stay for a while.Isn't she the cutest thing ever?”
He just stood right there, full on suit with the helmet still on.
While she was gnawing her teether like it was a meal.
“Say something”
He came close “hey!”he said in that deep amplified voice.
The baby’s face scrunched up and her lower lip started to tremble.
He quickly removed his helmet and awkwardly smiled as he sat next to you as you calmed the dumpling down.
“ This is the idiot I'm dating god knows how many years”
you pointed at Jay to the dumpling,who's lookin at him intensely.
“uh….hello”
he waved at her,and she slowly waved back and immediately started to gnaw on her teether again.
Jason tried to pick the baby up for your lap,but she climbed to you like a monkey and hid her face in your shoulder.You chuckled as she snuggled deeper into your shoulder cutely, while Jason just blinked and scratched the back of his neck.
“Go change” you nudged him,he nodded and the baby cooed and you started to play with you.
After an hour and a half, the baby was sleeping peacefully and then you got a call from your work.
“Jay?”
“Yes,my love?”
“ Can you please watch the baby for a while,I just got a call”
“ You sure r/n? because your niece clings to you”
“You’ve babysat Damian before, she is an angel.Doesn't cry and I've changed her diaper, so no worries”
you grabbed your bag already
“Damian huh..” you pecked his cheek and rushed outta the door.
Just after you left ,Jay quietly checked on the baby. She was wide awake, looking at her hand opening and closing it, examining it like it was the most fascinating thing to ever exist. Then the baby looked at him slowly with big boba eyes and blinked at him. He just signed softly praying that you’ll get back home quickly.
After 2 hours,you came back and the house was awfully quiet and you turned the lights on to find Jason looking at the baby with heart eyes,sitting on the couch with her snuggled up on his chest,her cheeks slightly squished and her tiny hand on his shirt gripping it.
“She played with me,she even cooed ay,ay” he said as he rubbed her back.
“I'll do anything for her”
“What?”
You chuckled as you sat down and moved a few hair strands from her face.
“I’ll fight wars for her,kill bruce,burn down the entire city,make anyone disappear if they look at her”
“What does Bruce have to do with this?”
“I don know,just gives me another reason to end him”
You just looked at him disappointed.
“Her mother is gonna pick her up in 10”
“ No. We'll just adopt her” you bursted out laughing.
“And you’re telling me that you're not like Bruce ? Huh”
Not Pantalone returning to haunt my thoughts after so long. Welcome back sir, I’ve missed you.
Warnings: Yandereish Content, Implied Stalking, Non-Con Voyerism, Blackmail, Implied mutual masturbation, No Pronouns are used for the reader, my bad writing, anything else I missed, NSFW, 18+
A/N: I don’t think this qualifies as it, but I’m tagging this as Yandere just to be safe. Link to Part 2
Pantalone's vanity is such that he enjoys recording different acts of pleasure, whether they be on himself or with others. He keeps all the videos on a private server that is buried deep within a bank of ordinary Northland Bank servers. Not even the IT department is aware of its existence. Pantalone is savvy enough when it comes to technology that he prefers to maintain the server himself. It spares him the trouble of having to babysit any unintended witnesses to his depravities. God forbid knowledge of the videos becomes common, or worse one of his videos hits the public. The carefully crafted image of himself would shatter in seconds. Leaving him to be humiliated before his peers and the world. It's an idea he doesn't enjoy. Which is why his attention is instantly drawn the second the security protocols on that server are breached.
You hadn't intended to access it. At least that's what you told yourself when you'd found it. You had simply hacked into Northland's mainframe and were taking a look around. It was your hope that you could mine out some useful information that you could sell on the black market. Bank records weren't anything of real value, they were a dime a dozen on the open market. You could care less about those. It was general knowledge, at least amongst your circle of comrades, that Northland was little more than a cover for the Fauti's less than scrupulous practices. Meaning if you could find any information on the organization's plans or movements, you would hit the proverbial gold mine.
When you had discovered the server all the way at the bottom of a nested list, you already had enough information to get you through the next few months. You should have left it alone. But your curiosity got the better of you. The higher security protocols triggered your interest in a way that the standard Northland servers hadn't. This singular server was a puzzle to you and you being you, viewed the stricter restrictions as a challenge. This server's security wasn't a standard system that could be easily overridden. You quickly discovered that the protections around the server were custom made. Meaning its owner had intended for it to be fool proof when it came to keeping any unwanted individuals out. That thought only intrigued you more. What could be so precious that this level of security was required? Was it weapons codes or plans for world domination? Surely whatever was there would be profitable enough that you would never have to work again, right?
After days of trying, to the point that you were nearly exhausted, you finally got in. It had taken a monumental amount of research on your part to figure out a way around the complex coding. What you discovered was well worth your efforts. On a server for one was a treasure trove of videos. All of them private, all of them explicit. You could hardly believe it.
You should have just left well enough alone after that. The knowledge that you could watch the Regrator get off in some of weirdest ways possible should have been enough. Even in your greed, you should have grabbed some of the more disgusting videos and sold them for a large profit. The funds would be more than enough for you to evade the harbinger’s wrath and start a new life elsewhere. Most importantly, after you had accessed the server, you should have checked for additional security measures; namely tracking. If you had, you would have realized that the access records were being monitored. You would have known your IP address and location had been captured. You would have realized that your fate, at least where the Regrator was concerned, was already sealed. Unfortunately for you, that wasn’t what happened. Instead, in your own depravity, you had set an alert to be notified of any updates to the server so you could see what perversion he indulged in next.
Pantalone knew the second the server was breached. He was in the middle of a meeting when he received the notification. It was only by the grace of the heavens that he managed to keep himself contained. Security breaches weren’t an uncommon thing. Northland was a common target for hackers and resistance fighters alike. It was why he laced lies and false plans throughout the servers. Pantalone had more than enough data on what they were looking for. All he needed to do was place it in specific areas so they wouldn’t have cause to go deeper. Not many people were inclined to keep digging after they’d already found the treasure. You were obviously the exception. That told him you were either abnormally greedy or you didn’t know what was good for you. It didn’t matter to him. You had made yourself a target. The question was how best to deal with you? Finding you would be simple. His tracking software would see to that. Pantalone only needed to assess the damage to determine whether he needed to act now or if the matter would keep until his afternoon tea.
After the meeting’s sudden adjournment, in the privacy of the now empty space, the analytics gave him surprisingly good news. Nothing had been taken. You had breached the security, but you hadn’t stolen anything. In fact, all you had done was browsed his videos like it was your going through your own personal library. He supposed for now it wasn’t that bad.Clearly you’d been snooping and that was all. The matter could be fixed with additional security to stop you from coming back. If word of the videos got out, it was something he could easily deny. From his end of things, you had no proof. Even if you’d taken screen captures, you still risked exposing yourself and your less than legal activities. You would have to publicly admit you had committed a crime. If you did, then it was nothing to him to silence you for good. After all, any number of nasty accidents could be arranged and none of them would be traceable to him. All he could do now was wait and see.
It took you a few days to go back and try again. After your first encounter with videos, you’d set the notification and promptly walked away. You’d told yourself the notification was enough. You didn’t need to go back unless he posted something new. The image of him looking so vulnerable though. Of him gasping and moaning and whimpering as he ran his hands over himself was a tough one to forget. Despite everything that made him terrifying, beneath it all, the weakness he willingly put on display was utterly alluring. You knew the videos were for his eyes only. That the exposed nature of them was for him to enjoy. But you couldn’t help but allow your mind to wander back to them. God he had looked so pathetic. Pantalone always projected an image of strength to the public. To see him so weak and needy was addictive. Your own desire to see him make an absolute mess of himself demanded it. Which was why, despite your better judgement, you found your way back into Northland’s systems.
The additional security should have been a red flag. You hadn’t sold what you’d taken a few days earlier, meaning that there was only one reason for the additional firewalls; your visit to the private server had been discovered. Your own need to peer back into Pantalone’s private world dismissed the additional security as little more than red tape. The bank had instituted a new security policy or something like that. Breaches were common, so it’s likely they were attempting to dissuade smaller hackers with new measures. For you though, they weren’t anything. Not after you had figured out how his security worked. You bypassed them easily enough, quickly tunneling down into the treasure trove that rested at the end.
This went on for weeks. You tried not to make it a daily thing as that felt excessive, but every time he posted a new video, which was becoming more frequent, you found yourself going there right away. The temptation to see his latest perversion was simply too great, especially since watching him had helped bring you to some of the best orgasms of your life. At this stage, at least in the back of your mind, you felt he had to know. Different aspects of his videos had changed. It was nothing dramatic, but you had noticed slightly improved lighting, better camera angles, and above all, the mumbled utterances of are you enjoying this as he got himself off. It was hard to believe he enjoyed being watched when he was like this. His image was always so controlled. As you sat in a post orgasmic bliss after his latest video, you wondered if he was doing just that? Was he tailoring this image of himself specifically for you, based on what you enjoyed? You scoffed at the possibility. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know, right?
As you thought about it over the next day or so, you swore to yourself that you’d been careful. You hadn’t given him a way to know you had been there or at the very least you appeased yourself with the idea that he couldn’t find you. You had cracked his security protocol enough that the normal alarms wouldn’t trigger. On his side, you should have looked like a regular user and nothing more. Even if he had figured out specific videos were being watched without his consent, he wouldn’t go so far as to bait you, would he?
Your answer came in the form of another video, one where he explicitly used your name.
The second it passed his lips your entire body went cold. All you could do was blankly stare at the screen as he sat there in all his magnificence, looking utterly proud of himself. For a moment you thought you’d misheard it. He hadn’t said your name, he didn’t know it. Again, you swore to yourself that you had been careful. He couldn’t know anything about you. Then, as if on que, he said it again. This time, with a smirk so sinister you leapt up from your chair just to get away from it. God he knew. Oh fuck, he knew. You immediately went to close the screen, your arousal long forgotten due to the reality that was now seeping in. The Regrator knew what you had been up to. He likely had known for weeks now. It explained the changes and tweaks made to the content. It explained his utterances and questions as he stroked himself. He was imagining you watching him. That fact sent a chill down your spin. He shouldn’t know you exist. Yet he did and worse than that, he was getting off on the fact that you watched him.
Your hand was on the button. You were seconds away from closing the window when his melodic voice washed over you again. “Before you close this darling. Just know, this one tells me how far you got.” As your eyes drifted over to the screen, you saw a shudder ripple its way through his body. On top of everything, the bastard had the nerve to be close. “End the fun too soon and there may be-” He gasped as he ran his fingers over the tip of his cock. “Consequences.” You swallowed, not daring to imagine what those might be. He had your name, which meant he knew how to find you. Even if you tried to run, you wouldn’t get far. Your funds might get you to somewhere like Nod Krai, but you wouldn’t have enough to pay the guilds for their silence. It wasn’t like you were well equipped to survive out in the wild either. To stand a chance of making it there or really anywhere, you would have to take a job in the city. That meant a proper address tied to your name. All it would take was for Pantalone to get a hold of your paperwork. After that, you were a sitting duck.
From the screen, he smiled at you again, moaning your name as his movements grew more erratic. He was going to cum. As you stood there and shook in fear, he was going to have the nerve to cum. “Fair’s fair-” He groaned out another darling. “You obviously enjoy watching me.” He paused long enough to get the rest of the sentence out. “It’s only right I should get to see you.” Your stomach collapsed to the point that you felt like you were going to be ill. He wasn’t serious. “You’ve…” He groaned in satisfaction as he teased the tip of his cock with his fingers. “Definitely caught my attention dearest.” Pantalone tightened his grip slightly, his hips jerking and stuttering as his movements grew messier. He was getting close now. You could see it in the way he furrowed his brow. The regrator was desperate to hold on, but you knew him well enough to know that wouldn’t be the case. The second he drew his bottom lip into his mouth, it was over. In what you would consider a truly glorious display, Pantalone came moaning your name.
“You-” His voice was heady with lust as he came down from his orgasm; pleasure and satisfaction dripping from every single word. It was as annoying as it was alluring. You had just watched the regrator get off to you or at least the idea of what he was going to do to you. Despite everything you were feeling in the moment, you couldn’t help but be a little flattered. “Have 24 hours to respond. I won’t bother with access rights. If you’re clever enough to get through my security, then I’m sure you're clever enough to figure out how to get a video of your own onto this server.” You gapped at that your temporary sense of pride long forgotten. Not only did the bastard want payback, but he was going to set you up for failure to get it? It had taken you days to understand how the server worked. Even then you’d only barely gotten into it with read-only access. Now he expected you to update your permissions, on your own? In less than 24 hours? He had to be insane. “I do hope you’ll give me a good show. After all, I’ve made quite the effort for you. The least you can do is return the favor.” The pause after that overtook everything. Your spinning mind automatically went into overdrive. What were you supposed to do? What could you do? You had hacked your way into the private server of one of the most powerful men in Sneznaya and stolen from his public servers. That alone was enough to earn you a ticket to jail. Then, with his full knowledge, but not his consent, you had been pleasuring yourself to him for weeks. Now, he was demanding compensation in the most humiliating way possible. He couldn’t actually expect you to film yourself, could he? At least not in the same method he did for himself. Surely he was joking. He had to be. “If I don’t see anything from you as of the time you started this little video then I’ll take that as an invitation to see you in person so that we might experience this little delight together. It has been ages since I’ve had anyone fun here.” Your legs automatically gave out. You fumbled your way back into your chair, tears forming in your eyes as reality finished setting in. He was going to make you do it. Come hell or high water, the Regrator would get his way with you. The question was, could you get the video on the server in time or would it be easier to sort this out in person? Despite your lack of funds, could you try to get to another border or at least out on the open sea? Could you swing that before your time ran out? “Before you think I can’t find you, or you believe you can get away, just know I have spies close by watching your every move. If they catch you trying to run, then we’ll meet each other much sooner than expected.” Of course he already had people on you. He’d probably sent them as soon as he’d begun this sick little game with you. “I’m eager to see how you’ll respond dearest.” Your eyes came back up to the screen before you realized they’d fallen away. The sinister smile he’d held the whole time mocked you from the other side of the screen. “Don’t keep me waiting for too long. It ruins the fun.” With one last laugh, the video ended. Leaving you in complete darkness.
What now? Was it worth your time to meet his challenge? Did you really believe you could get the necessary access rights in time or would your time be better served trying something else? You thought about trying to find his spies. There couldn’t be that many, could there? Maybe you could take what you had and buy them off. Maybe you could try to use force as a means of escape. Even if you managed it, there was still the matter of trying to get away. The cities were warmed to make them habitable. But in the frozen tundras of Snezhnaya, you doubted you would make it a mile before you froze. Were those your choices? Comply or die? Was that all he had left you with? You let out a broken sob at the thought.
With tear filled eyes, you looked back at the dark screens. He’d insisted you shouldn’t disappoint him. You knew that applied to your actions as much as your video. If you forced him to wait for nothing, you knew the consequences would become more severe. Right now he had given you a choice. He’d only asked for one video. If you didn’t acquiesce to his request then one could turn into an infinite number with a snap of his fingers. Worse still, he could find you and he could demand that you give him what he wanted in person. If those were your only options, then you preferred to keep him as far away as humanly possible.
With shaking hands, you reached for the keyboard and mouse, closing his video. You had to try, didn’t you? Even if you hated it, even if you failed, you still had to make an effort. Because even the smallest effort might be what stayed his hand. At least, you hoped it did. In all honesty, nothing actually would. Even if by some miracle you managed to meet his deadline, that only opened the door to additional demands. More videos, tougher challenges, and tighter timelines. Because that was the real payoff for him, wasn’t it? The show he wanted wasn’t the video, it was the challenge in getting the video to him. Pantalone wanted to be impressed to the point that he had demanded it. The price of his individual attention was that you show him how capable you really were. He wanted to see if your meddling was a fluke or if you were as competent as you had shown yourself to be. If that was the case, then you decided you would rise to the occasion. As the terror of the situation settled into anxiety, you decided he didn’t matter. You would do what he wanted, but you wouldn’t do it for him, you would do it for yourself. You would prove that you could beat him at his own game, even if you had to humiliate yourself to win.
Your fingers began to work over the keyboard as you opened windows and command prompts. Because like the server, that was the challenge. You became determined to beat the Regrator at his own game, if only to save yourself.
