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wandasaura · 1 year ago

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LINGER LIKE A TATTOO KISS

summary — as the summer approaches, so does a shift in your relationship with wanda

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, sensory overload, anxiety, mentions of child abuse (very brief and nondescript), dom/sub dynamics, patience testing, bratty!reader, punishment, teasing, mild humiliation, orgasm denial, spanking, praise, aftercare, entrance of the mommy kink, men/minors dni

authors note — the moment we’ve all been waiting for… or at least one of them ;), we finally got some wanda action, and a couple little domestic scenes because they’re the cutest wives

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

The supermarket was beyond crowded for it being a Wednesday afternoon in early May. You supposed the air conditioned aisles were being used as an escape from the scalding temperatures of approaching summer that threatened to melt the inventory of every ice cream truck in the neighborhood, but to say you were overstimulated was putting it lightly.

You trailed after Wanda and Natasha with a frown on your face, making your disinterest known to both of the lawyers who were in desperate need of more produce and salad kits. You’d never understand why Natasha favored the plastic bags of lettuce over the perfectly green heads that Wanda grew in the back garden, but she’d thrown at least six prepackaged variations into the cart when you stopped at the stand. You were trailing down the cereal aisle now, and your attitude was getting on both of their nerves.

Wanda had been flat out ignoring your temper tantrum since the moment it started, but Natasha was not as keen to be dismissive as her wife. She’d been throwing out warnings since you’d first come through the automatic doors, but they had all fallen on deaf ears as you stayed persistent in your pout. Your arms were folded over your chest, your eyes slitted into daggers if anyone even attempted to look in your direction. You’d been near perfectly behaved for weeks, spare a few harsh comments thrown in Wanda’s direction, but they’d both been willing to overlook your harshness because aside from those, you’d been an angel. Whatever streak of good behavior you’d been running off of however, had seen its end, and both lawyers in front of you were shocked by the attitude you simmered in.

“If I have to ask you again to pick up your feet, I’m going to make you sit in the cart like a child.” Natasha’s voice was quiet, not willing to draw attention from the other shoppers in the aisle, but there was an unignorable warning in her tone. She’d asked you three times to stop dragging your feet across the floors, and each time you promptly dragged them harder. You were absolutely certain that smudges of black looped the grocery store floors and aided as a map to your current location, but you didn’t care. You’d been so good, so painfully good and pliant and willing to bend to even the slightest gust of wind, but not today. Not now. Not when it was too hot and too cold at the same time. Not when it was too loud and too crowded and you’d asked them both if you could just stay home. They hadn’t wanted that. They wanted to go together, told you that you were going together even after you protested, and you know it’s because they’d wanted to get you some of your favorite treats for the end of the semester coming up, but how could they blame you for being cranky when you’d warned them about not wanting to come along at all. You’d been here for what felt like hours, and if your phone wasn’t being held captive in Wanda’s pocket, you’re sure the digits on your lockscreen would support your accusation.

“Can we leave?!” You ignored Natasha’s warning, wiggled away from her when she got too close, and pressed yourself up against the shelves of cereal boxes. You wouldn’t fare well to the close contact she wanted to initiate, but she didn’t seem to get that, because the second you thought you had found peace in your little corner, she was right back in front of you with a glare only the worst criminals faced. She was not your loving and sweet dominant right now, you’d pushed her too far, and she didn’t take kindly to embarrassment. You’re pretty sure that the man three carts behind you had been gawking at your temperament since you came in, and while Wanda had sent him a glare, he still hadn’t gotten the hint that your little attitude didn’t concern him. Natasha grabbed at your wrists, pulling them away from your chest with a grip too strong to fight. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you wiggled immediately, but she wasn’t letting go. “Nat, let go.” You pleaded with her, desperately tried to get her to understand you needed space right now, but she was seething and subsequently blinded by your panic.

“Natalia.” Wanda called out for her wife, her careful eye watching your movements despite the seeming disinterest on her lips. Your eyes flickered over to Wanda, and while to Natasha it appeared that you were a deer in headlights anticipating a scolding, the Sokovian could see the wisps of actual panic in your stare. “Let go.”

Natasha listened, if only because a crowd had started to form toward the opposite end of the aisle and she wanted to move on before she became the cause of a traffic jam. Her hand left yours, and though it had been making your skin burn, you missed it instantly. Tears brimmed your eyes, but you refused to let her see that, and so instead of pleading that you leave only to be overlooked again, you just dropped your chin to your chest and followed along after them both with a drag in your step.

“This is your chance to tell me what’s wrong.” You practically jumped out of your skin when Wanda’s voice appeared closer than it had been all afternoon. If you had leaned any closer into her, your arm would have brushed her chest. You shuffled away from her, beyond the point of communication. You thought you’d made it pretty clear that you wanted to leave, anytime you acted out Natasha didn’t hesitate to drag you away, but she hadn’t this time. You knew that realistically it was because she needed supplies to make dinner, but after weeks of being good, you couldn’t deny that you had missed the feeling of her heavy hands on your skin in a way that was less than kind. You could ask for what you needed, but you would rather die a slow painful death then ask for what she called a ‘maintenance spanking’. “If you’re not going to communicate, then I don’t want the attitude. You are making a scene. Drop it, pick out some snacks, and try to be nice.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You huffed, making the rash decision to shove her body away from yours with both of your outstretched palms. Wanda’s lips set into a firm line, her eyebrows raised in surprise at the action. You’ve been rude, snarky even, but you’ve never raised your hands to her, even if it was only to create some space between your bodies. You shuffled on your feet, immediately regretting the decision to force space rather than ask for it. You’d been riding her last nerve for days, your sarcastic comments just the slightest bit meaner than usual, but she had been willing to overlook them because she knew you were stressed with finals and outside of those one-off comments you’d been helpful and obedient. There was no way she’d ignore this, and you wanted to cry thinking about how at the end of the night it wouldn’t be Natasha’s hands on your body that you wanted so desperately, but hers. “I– sorry.” You apologized weakly, not even sure what it was that you were apologizing for. Was it because the look in her eyes was undeniably scary, or was it because you pushed her? You knew that it was a mixture of both, but you needed that look to go away before you could even form a coherent thought.

“In the cart.” She demanded, not leaving you any room to argue. You violently shook your head, knowing that being confined to such a small space would only make the panic in your belly worse. There were too many noises and stimulus, too many conflicting temperatures, being confined between four metal bumpers would certainly set you off and you were only just barely keeping yourself together now. “If you want to act like a child you’ll get treated like one. Natasha has asked you four times to stop dragging your feet, and frankly, I can’t trust that you’ll keep your hands to yourself anymore. You either sit in the cart, or you and I will go out to the car and you won’t be getting any of the treats you want. Which one is it going to be?”

“I want Nat.” You pleaded with her, suddenly aware of the fact that you didn’t even know where the other redhead had wandered off to, or when she’d started moving. She had been right in front of you, but now you couldn’t spot her and the thought of losing her in the supermarket spiked worry in your chest. “Where’s Nat?” You didn’t care about how frantic you appeared, didn’t care that you were ignoring Wanda’s question and definitely making things worse for yourself. You hated getting separated, you hated breaking off into pairs even if the three of you had set a meet up location if this were to happen.

Wanda, though annoyed with your behavior, sighed softly and dropped the threatening glare she’d been pointing at you. “Nat went to get some grapes and strawberries. You finished them this morning, remember?” You could only nod, remembering that you had in fact finished their fruit after refusing to eat the eggs that Wanda made for breakfast. It was too hot outside for anything warm to eat. They weren’t giving you a choice in tagging along, and although you couldn’t control where they dragged you, well you could if you had called your safeword and asked for space, but that wasn’t really what you wanted. You still had control over what you ate even if the supermarket was non negotiable, and you knew that the cold fruit would sit better in your stomach when it inevitably came time to leave.

“This is the last time I’m going to ask you what’s wrong, Y/N. If you refuse to answer, I will be the one you deal with when we get home. This behavior is unacceptable.” Wanda remained firm, but there was concern in her voice that made you wonder if you would avoid punishment if you came clean. Deciding that you’d rather face humiliation than her heavy hand on your ass, you relented.

“There’s too many people.” You whispered, shamefully dropping your eyes to the floor, counting the specs of black and gold in the tiles beneath your feet. The design was ugly when isolated, but somehow it worked for the aesthetic of the store when you focused on the full picture. “It’s too loud. And tomorrow's my last final and I’m not sure how it’s going to go, and I have to sleep at my dorm tonight and I haven’t done that since Natty was away. And I just need space right now but I don’t want to be alone.”

The Maximoff residence had practically become your residence since the night you showed up in tears. You’d spent all of your nights in the soft guest bed, and most of your mornings in the dining room eating a homemade breakfast for the last six weeks. It was embarrassing to admit that you had gotten used to being there with them, that now that you had it, you didn’t want to trade it in for your stiff dorm room with a roommate you hadn’t spoken a word to since the first week of classes, even if it would only be for a handful of hours to sleep. You hated sleeping alone, even if you had slept alone in their house almost every night, spare the occasions Natasha fucked you into that fuzzy headspace she adores and they had let you crash in bed with them. Sleeping in your dorm was different, and lonely. And yeah, you had survived three years of dorm living prior to meeting them, but things were different now. You are different now.

Wanda’s face melted into softness at your admission, and suddenly you felt silly for keeping it to yourself for so long, but you’d unasked for self-criticism had convinced you that you were being needy and unreasonable and they wouldn’t understand where your head was at even if you tried to articulate. After almost a year with Natasha, you should’ve known that wasn’t true, shouldn’t have even entertained that thought, but after showing both her and Wanda that you could be good for longer than just a couple hours, you’d felt like raising any problems no matter their origin would only aggravate them. You didn’t want to lose what you had, even if it meant being uncomfortable in a grocery store.

“It is pretty overstimulating in here, isn’t it?” Wanda coos, her green eyes understanding and sympathetic. It’s a violent switch from how she’d been talking to you, but you thrive beneath her gentle validation of your feelings and find yourself nodding along. “Natty and I try our best to accommodate you, but we don’t know everything that can be overwhelming for you. We need you to tell us, so these things don’t happen. Shoving me didn’t make it any less crowded, and ignoring Nat didn’t make it any less loud. I know you were trying your best, but how could we have handled that better?” You should hate the way she’s speaking to you; like a child made of glass, but somehow it makes you feel better. She doesn’t sound mad anymore, there's no unspoken threat of consequences or stripped privileges, she’s just trying to get on the same page as you, trying to get you to understand where your mistakes had been so you can fix them in the future. You hate that you want more of this, whatever it is.

“Telling you.” You sighed, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly, trying to take away some of the blame that was becoming heavy guilt in your belly. “I didn’t think you’d listen.”

“Have we ever not listened to you?” Wanda quirks an eyebrow, and you feel properly schooled beneath the expression.

“I told you I didn’t want to come.” You tried to excuse yourself, but the lawyer was having none of your avoidance. You sighed, dropping your shoulders and focusing your attention on your cuticles, picking at the skin that had only recently begun to heal. “Nobody has ever taken me seriously before. My last girlfriend used to parade me around claiming exposure would ‘fix’ me. I didn’t think it would matter to you that I’m overstimulated.”

Wanda didn’t know much of anything about your past relationships. Whenever you talked about them, which was admittedly almost never, it was only ever Natasha who was around to witness realization crash over you like high tide. Your past romantic partners and the estranged relationship with your family had completely destroyed you, however these two successful lawyers that you found yourself entangled with were slowly putting the pieces of your broken heart back together, even if they didn’t realize just how much they were helping you.

“Do you want to leave?” Wanda didn’t dwell on your revelation, she didn’t pick it apart and hone in on all of the ways you knew that she could. She’s a lawyer, the very best one in the world, don’t tell Natasha you thought that; there were a million little things in your brief explanation that had set off alarm bells in her head, but she didn’t pry. You don’t know why you thought she would, but having the topic dropped before it was even picked up had soothed at least a fraction of your newfound worry.

The question startled you, having expected that to be the last thing she suggested, but it felt good to know that she was willing to order takeout for dinner if it meant getting you out of this situation. You wanted to leave, you desperately wanted to run to the exit at the first implication that you were allowed, but they needed groceries, and you wanted the chocolate ice cream sandwiches Natasha had promised. “No.” You whispered, shaking your head just in case she hadn’t heard you over the toddler screaming bloody murder in the juice aisle. “I don’t know.”

“Do you want to sit in the cart while Nat and I finish shopping? I’ll give you back your phone and you can listen to your music until we’re done. It’s not a punishment, stop looking at me like that.” Wanda teased, and you giggled softly at her scrunched up nose and creased eyes. It was definitely a better suited look than her angry glare, and you couldn’t stop your finger from reaching out to poke her. “Did you just boop my nose?” She laughed, all of your bratty behavior forgotten about, at least for now anyways.

“It wanted to be booped. It told me.” You shrugged your shoulders, hyper aware of the fact that you’d voluntarily touched her and it hadn’t made your hand turn into flames. Your relationship was slowly on the mend, that much was undeniable, but physical touch was still something you shied away from at no fault of her own, but rather your own insecurities that needed to be worked through. “Are you gonna tell Natty I pushed you?”

“No.” Her honesty surprised you almost as much as her willingness to forgive your fatal misstep, but you nodded curtly, lips pressed into a thin line.

“I didn’t mean to. You were just too close, and Natty didn’t listen when I asked her to let go and I panicked.” You mumbled out the reason for your behavior, aware that it sounded like an excuse but there was no ounce of judgment or disbelief in Wanda’s eyes.

“I know.” She assured, and you deflated in relief. “You’re not going to do it again, if you do I will not be as forgiving, but I know you were feeling crowded, so I’m willing to let it go if you are.”

You nodded eagerly, and Wanda smiled. “Can we go find Nat now?”

As you expected, spending the night in your dorm was torturous. In the six weeks that you’d been away, you’d forgotten how your roommate snores and turns throughout the night, and her mattress was far noisier than yours had ever been. It hadn’t bothered you all that much at the start of the academic year, and maybe that had been because of your exhaustion with the adjustment and workload of seven classes instead of the typical four, or maybe you had just been able to get used to it, but now that you had discovered what true quiet sounds like when you sleep, there had not been a single ounce of rest achieved all night.

Your alarm went off at fifteen minutes to six, and you cursed whoever was cruel enough to schedule an exam for seven in the morning on a Thursday in May, but you shuffled out of bed anyway and dressed quickly in the few articles of clothing that still lingered in your dorm. Most of them had been brought to the Maximoff residence, but what hadn’t made it over because it was significantly useless with the presence of warmer weather, had been dropped off in the storage unit paid for by your mother. The woman was a flaky figure in your life at best, definitely no parent, but you appreciate her dedication to your education. She paid for your tuition, she assured you had the best meal plan and access to books and study materials, and when the seasons changed and you were let out on break, she made sure there was a safe and trustworthy place to store your belongings. She’d never once said she was proud of you, but when she asked for a report of your grades and didn’t immediately berate you, you knew that she was at least satisfied.

If you failed any of your finals, you knew there would be hell to pay. You already weren’t coming home for the summer like you usually did, and although your mother didn’t know the reason why, she was less than happy when you’d relayed the abrupt change in plans three weeks ago. She was a controlling narcissist, a woman that had brought you years of pain and suffering for her own pleasure, you knew what she was capable of the second she caught wind of academic failure, and you would not reward her the opportunity to berate you the way she did in high school when you received anything less than all A’s on your report card. It was stupid to allow a woman with no presence in your life to have so much control, but you needed to at least be perceived as a good daughter if she were going to keep paying your multi-thousand dollar bills.

The weather today was just as hot as yesterday, but there was a rise of humidity in the air that you could feel without even stepping outside. The sky looked thick and unpleasant, miraculously blue and clear, but still gross. As much as you wanted to hide away in your room and avoid the four hour exam that awaited you, it wasn’t in the cards, and so begrudgingly you laced up your shoes and grabbed your favorite pen. It was a simple pen, nothing truly special about it, but since the day you’d stolen it from Natasha’s desk, it had been used for every paper exam. The gold lettering across the black body, the name of her and Wanda’s company, was beginning to scratch and chip from the conditions you carried it through. And for being something so beloved, anyone would have thought that you’d treat it with respect, but you released copious amounts of anger and frustration on the ballpoint pen. Your teeth dug into it when you didn’t know an answer, your nails scraped at the paint when the words you had stored away in your memory felt impossible to grasp, and there were countless times that the entire pen sat dismantled and in pieces on your desk when you just needed something else to focus on for a few seconds. During one exam, you’d taken it apart mid-way through. The spring had bounced from between your fingertips and ended up halfway across the room. Your professor was a real bitch, and hadn’t let you retrieve the piece until every single person had already left and finished. You passed the exam, but not by much, and you blamed your grade on the fact that you had to finish it with a purple gel pen that was less than special. You wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Leaving your room behind, you walked to the classroom that you’d be sitting the exam in. It wasn’t a building you were familiar with, and so you packed an extra ten minutes into your schedule to avoid being late. Flowers had started to bloom in the bushes, and the grass was so much greener then it had been in the dead of winter, but there was no comfort to be sought in this environment. Your university was fine, albeit a bit bland, but Westview had become your home. You thought Wanda’s flowers smelled sweeter then the ones planted here, and the grass in their yard was the brightest shade of green you’ve ever seen. You don’t know how they have the time to take such tender care with their plants, but it made sense for them. They were busy women, women with a fast paced life and career, but there were still mundane rituals that clung to their routine. Before the contract, it had been almost impossible to imagine CEO and world-class lawyer Natasha Maximoff taking out the trash, but now you know she does it every Wednesday. It was also impossible to imagine Wanda Maximoff on her knees and covered in mud, there was never even a wrinkle in her business attire when she returned from the office after sixteen hour days, but now you’re privy to the fact that she doesn’t shy away from getting dirty when she tends to the weeds in her garden. It’s the simple things that make their company so much better then what you’ve found at Sword University, but no matter how much you wish you could be in Westview with them, no amount of heel clicking could take you there.

When you found the exam room, you noted that it was unpleasantly cold, and you cursed at your inability to have remembered to bring along a sweatshirt like Natasha had suggested. There was no consistency at school, some classrooms were blisteringly hot and you could work up a sweat in minutes just from sitting still, and some were so cold your fingers forgot how to function. It didn’t matter the season, or if you simply walked down the hallway, the temperature was never the same and it varied from room to room. You chose a desk near the windows. Not right next to them, knowing that it would get too hot if you were pressed right beside the uncovered sun, but close enough to still feel the lick of warmth as the golden beams of daylight nipped at your skin. It didn’t take much longer for your peers to start flooding in, and their presence brought another factor of warmth to the room, though it wasn’t much and some who hadn’t been lucky enough to find a seat near the windows shivered. You smiled at the familiar face of a student who had claimed the seat next to you. You didn’t have many friends, didn’t see the point in socializing when your focus needed to be academic, but you had grown fond of a few of the faces you saw every week.

“This your last exam?” Monica Rambeau asked you, leaning in closer to your desk so that you wouldn’t have to shout over the other students in the room. You had seen her around since your very first class in freshman year, and you quickly became reliant on each other for notes if one of you happened to be sick and needed to miss a lecture you shared. Your major was complex, not entirely science related but not entirely separate either. You wanted to focus more on security and technology, but for some reason your school demanded that all computer science majors take chemistry and physics. Monica was good at both, you were not. She had saved your ass with her color coded notes too many times to ever ignore her small-talk.

“Thankfully.” You laughed, tapping your pen against your desk anxiously. “I’m moving the rest of my shit out next week and then I’m spending the summer in Westview. What about you?”

The brunette shook her head, and you winced in sympathy. As grueling as it had been to have most of your exams scheduled in the same week, save for the three classes that had requested papers and projects from you, it was nice to be done so soon into the exam period. You knew that some other unfortunate students would be stuck here for at least another week. “I have two more tomorrow, then I’m heading back to Louisiana. You ready for this?”

“Not at all.” You laughed, though your jittery leg and fidgeting fingers easily gave away just how anxious you were. “Sitwell hasn’t made sense a day in his life, I doubt the exam will be any more coherent than his lectures.”

Monica laughed loudly at your acquisition, but she nodded eagerly in agreement. “Tell me about it. I’ve been going over your study sheet for the last two weeks and I think I just barely understand the content from chapter one.”

Your attention snapped to the door when it snapped open again, but unlike the last handful of times, it wasn’t a student that entered, it was your Professor Jasper Sitwell himself, and in his hands were thick bundles of paper that would determine the next year of your life. If you failed this exam, you could kiss your paid for tuition goodbye. You appreciated Monica’s attention to body language, because she seemed to get the hint that you were in no mood to continue your conversation now that Sitwell had arrived. She still offered you a smile though, a whispered ‘good luck’, before she turned straight in her desk and placed three colored pens down firmly. Leave it to Monica to remain dedicated to her color coding even at the end of the semester.

The time had flown by after that. You’d groaned when you saw that the estimated time of this exam would be four hours, but now you felt like that wasn’t nearly enough. The first six pages of questions had come easily to you, though it was still challenging and you doubted that most of your answers were entirely correct, but the last page had stumped you rather quickly and entirely. You jumped between questions, filling in pieces of information when they came to mind, but nothing could jog your memory when you were confronted with the very last question of the exam. Your brows furrowed, a sheen of perspiration clung to your skin. Was it a trick question? No, a professor wouldn’t purposefully stump you when so much was on the line. Despite your confidence in Sitwell, you’re absolutely certain that you’ve never gone over any materials that even slightly relate to the last topic. You’ve read the textbook forward and backwards, you practically dreamed about this course material, but you had never seen these words present in any of the lectures.

Your hand shot up from the desk before you could stop yourself, but by time you realized you were seeking attention from Sitwell, he had called you up to the front of the room. A glance at the clock on the wall beside the door told you there was just under twenty minutes left. By this point in an exam, most students would have been gone, but every single one of them still remained, and although you weren’t intentionally looking at anyone’s paper, the few that you had seen had all been open on the last page. You weren’t the only one confused.

“How can I help you, Ms. Y/L/N?” Sitwell kept his voice quiet, and like always, detached. You wondered how a man who seemed to hate every person even remotely younger than himself had found a profession in teaching, but you didn’t let his attitude deter you from asking anyway. This question could very easily make you seem like an idiot, but you were confident in yourself, and well, Jasper Sitwell seemed exactly the type to make a mistake like this.

Matching his quiet tone, assuring that only the first row of students could hear you, you laid your exam in front of him and pointed out the question. “This isn’t related to your course, sir. It’s not in the textbook, and we’ve never gone over it in a lecture.”

You waited for the moment he berated you for questioning his exam but it never came. When you grew the balls to look up at him, you found a smirk of satisfaction on his lips. “You’re correct. That question has no value in this course. It’s been on my exam for the last ten years and nobody has ever questioned me. Congratulations, Ms. Y/L/N, it seems somebody has finally read the textbook.”

A look of sheer bewilderment crossed your face, but Sitwell gave you no chance to speak again before he promptly took the exam from your hands and kept it at his side. Anxiety shot through your stomach when you realized that he wasn’t going to give it back to you. There was still thirteen minutes left on the clock, and you’d intended to spend every last second meticulously checking your work until he had to pry it from your fingertips when time ran out. So much could be wrong about your answers, you could’ve missed a question or twenty, and now you’d have no way of knowing because he wouldn’t give it back.

“Be on your way.” He nodded toward the door when you didn’t budge. There was no use arguing with him, he never listened anyways, but you couldn’t just walk away without checking over your paper one last time.

“Sir, I still have time to go over my answers.” You weakly protested, a single palm extended in the direction of your exam, hoping that for once he was willing to budge. No luck, his jaw clenched and his eyes hardened, and you took that as a sign to get the hell out of dodge before he did something drastic like rip your exam in half. You would never be taking another class from him again, if you even got the chance to finish your degree.

With a sigh of defeat, you headed back to your desk, collected your lucky pen, and waved subtly in Monica’s direction before you headed to the door and broke away from anything and everything even remotely related to academics for the next three months.

Ever since childhood, you have adored the sight of the sun in the spring and summer months. Not in the middle of the day when it was blinding and heavy, but toward the approach of night when everything it’s surface could touch was brightened by ripples of violet and peach presence. Tonight had been the first expanse of light across the shoretown the Maximoff’s lived in, and though they’d both been home all day with a rare break from office obligations, their cars were warm to the touch when you passed by them in the driveway.

Despite the warm air and lingerance of sunshine off in the horizon, your disposition was reflective of the colder times when attitudes clashed and people let themselves fall inward. You’d been blind to the change in mood as a child. There was no bad time of year when you were seven and strangers stopped to compliment your velcro shoes as they passed, but now that adulthood had claimed what remained of your innocence, you’d been shown the true nature of winter and fall. The first time you realized that strangers were nicer in the summer, you’d been fifteen. Admittedly, that was a bit old to only just be realizing that life was cruel and people were snobs, but you’d always been an optimist; you still are an optimist. You vowed to never become someone so mean after that day, but that was yet another promise you had failed to keep for yourself.

Your face is set in a permanent scowl, which seems to be the new normal as Wanda and Natasha move about around you. Your arms are crossed in front of your chest, your eyes staring straight ahead of you at the movie that’s playing in the background. They’re attempting to get the house straightened up, something about hosting a barbeque over the weekend and not wanting to leave the mess to deal with at a later date. Had you been in a better mood, you would’ve offered to help, would’ve laughed and joked along with them, but the unknown of your last exam has firmly pushed you over the edge and now every minor inconvenience is working on your last available nerve.

Wanda laughs at something Natasha whispers in her ear, the two of them somehow always finding a reason to gravitate toward one another despite the many different tasks that still needed to be accomplished. You didn’t think the house was as messy as Wanda claimed, but you hadn’t offered her that briefest sentence of reassurance. When you walked in, defeat heavy on your shoulders as you over analyzed the exchange between yourself and Professor Sitwell, you’d wanted nothing more than to fall into Natasha’s lap and let her distract you however she saw fit. She had, for a couple minutes at least, but then she’d pushed you out of her embrace and had started helping Wanda around the house. The Sokovian was practically on a mission to regain some order, dusting bookshelves and tables, collecting stray blankets that had made their way into the living room and across random furniture pieces. It hadn’t looked messy, just lived in, but that wasn’t good enough.

“Can you lift your feet for a second?” The taller of the pair looked at you expectantly, the neck of their expensive vacuum clutched between her ringed fingers. She hadn’t been the slightest bit deterred by your poor attitude when you came barreling into the house and hadn’t even offered her so much as a hello before you plopped down in Natasha’s lap and dug your face into her neck, and she had even let you put your feet up on her coffee table when eventually the Russian left your side start cleaning. She had been very patient with you, knowing how nervous you were about the exam and your results, but much like yours, her patience wasn’t unlimited. “I asked you a question, I expect an answer.”

You huffed, readjusting yourself on the couch, though you still didn’t move your legs out of her way. Natasha watched the scene unfold with an uninterpretable expression in her eyes. She was aware of how you’d been testing Wanda more and more as the weeks went by, and she had warned you that it was only a matter of time before the woman snapped and dealt with your attitude by her own measures. Three weeks ago, that would’ve been enough to scare you into submission, but you had shrugged off her warning to stop pushing boundaries, entirely uninterested in the conversation she was trying to have.

Wanda sighed and let go of the vacuum, resting it against the couch to be grabbed again later. You’d expected her to move onto a different task, maybe even march her way upstairs until you changed your attitude, but when her hands grabbed at your ankles and harshly removed them from the coffee table, you gasped in shock and flinched away from her touch, a glare settled in her direction.

“Stop!” You whined, kicking your foot out in her direction as a weak attempt at retaliation, but you made no attempt to put them back on the coffee table. Instead, you extended them outward, taking up almost the entire length of the couch. Not that it mattered, neither one of them were planning on sitting down with you anytime soon. Wanda quirked an eyebrow down at you, an expression that you were getting seriously tired of, before she reached for the remote and turned off the television. “I was watching that!” You cried out in annoyance, reaching for the remote that was held away from your hands.

“Good girls get to watch movies.” She simply stated and handed the remote over to Natasha, who seemed to know exactly where it needed to go. The remote was promptly placed on one of the highest shelves in the room, and the fact that it had been done on purpose because she knew you wouldn’t be able to reach that high without a stool only angered you further.

“So what? You’re gonna ground me? I’m not a child.” You snapped at her, your voice tinged with what could only be described as pure venom. The snarky comments you’d been making for days seemed like child's play now, at least then you’d had the decency to show her some semblance of respect, but now, there wasn’t an ounce of anything kind in your tone.

“If you’re going to act like one, I’m going to treat you like one. I have been more than patient with you, even though you’re being nothing short of a brat. My willingness to ignore your little attitude will not last much longer, so I suggest you get over yourself before I have you over my lap.” Her words should’ve scared you, they should’ve worked as a last ditch effort to get you to behave, but if anything, it only spurred you on further. You were beyond the point of simply wanting some kind of punishment. Unlike in recent days when it had been a tickle at the back of your mind, now you desperately needed it. The end of the semester always felt like the biggest relief until it actually came, and you were left with no productive purpose to fulfill. You needed a push in the right direction, and now that you had been introduced to this dynamic, where Natasha was more than willing to make decisions for you and take care of you, you wanted to fall right into that state of comfort and control. Your mind wouldn’t let you stop thinking though, and no matter how hard you pleaded with yourself to just let her take the reins, control would not be so easily relinquished. It had been weeks since your last spanking. Days since the last time she had fucked you hard enough to cause you to slip into subspace. For months you’d been shown and taught about the beauty of this dynamic, and it was just suddenly beginning to fall away. You knew that you didn’t need to be naughty to receive a spanking, knew that if you asked she’d be more than happy to provide it, but you didn’t want to need her just to feel content. It was like a double-edged sword had rammed its way into your brain and every time you turned your head you fought between completely surrendering control and always maintaining it.

“If I’m a brat then you’re a bitch.” You met Wanda’s stare, there was no backing down now. You were so close to what you wanted, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to care that it wasn’t Natasha you were seeking it from. Ever since that night curled up in her arms when the world felt like it was ending, something was undeniably different. You didn’t want to crave her but you did, and the longer she refused to play into your games, the more you wanted her. She was scary when she was mad, terrifying when she was livid, but somehow you had crossed both of those thresholds in only one sentence. There was something dark in her eyes that you’d never seen before, and it made your stomach twist into knots knowing that you were the sole reason she had lost her happy spark. She radiated dominance, expelled the radiant energy of someone who knew they had control, even if for the briefest second, you had been foolish enough to think you were the one with it. It wasn’t anger or frustration in her eyes, although they were both present, but rather dominance. You’d seen her be dominant, you’d been scolded by her many times, but it had always been concealed. She had always remained respectful of your boundaries and control to Natasha only, but you had pushed her too far. Things had changed too much. Neither of you were the women you had been at the start of this situation, and it was only a matter of time before the carpet rolled beneath your feet and you had to face the music.

“Get upstairs.” She demanded of you, and for the first time since showing up, you didn’t have the words to fight. You scrambled off the couch and practically flew toward the stairs, only to stop halfway up when you realized you didn’t know where she wanted you to go.

“Our bedroom, honey.” Natasha called after you, having watched the entire thing unfold. Now that you realized what position you had walked yourself into, there was anxiety flooding your desperate gaze as you pleaded with her to save you. Natasha wouldn’t save you this time though. She had warned you, told you that you wouldn’t like the trap you were walking yourself into, but you hadn’t listened. “I’ll be up to talk with you in a second, it’s okay.”

“Y/N, if you are not in that room in the next twenty seconds, I will not be so kind as to give you the choice about what I spank your ass with.” Wanda’s voice was level, it didn’t waver like you knew yours would if you even dared to try and speak. You nodded frantically, scrambling to get up the stairs and into their bedroom before the countdown in your head got down to zero.

You didn’t know what to do once you were inside, didn’t know if you should close the door or leave it open, didn’t know if you should sit on the bed or continue to stand beside it. You’d never been alone in their bedroom, it felt like an odd invasion of privacy now that you were. Your mind reeled with endless possibilities, though none of them pleasant. Wanda was going to spank you, she had practically promised that, but what else would she do? Would she make you terminate your contract with Natasha because you’d called her a bitch? Would she slap you around like your father had done when you’d ever dared to disrespect him so aggressively? Tears pricked your eyes at all of your unanswered questions, and you noted that this feeling in your belly was distinctly different then the times when Natasha pulled you over her lap. You’d gotten a handful of punishments before, of course you have because even though you like being good for her, it’s still fun to act out, but those punishments had always been light with the unspoken promise of sexual relief afterward. This was the first time you’d ever actually been punished outside of sexual interactions. This was the first time you’d ever pissed Wanda off enough to be the one who dealt the cards. So much was changing and you couldn’t keep up, but really there was nothing for you to keep up with. You didn’t know what would happen next, you had never been in this situation before.

The floorboards creaked beneath footsteps, and you noted that just beyond the window not covered by blinds, the sunshine had finally settled. Nothing was left to see beside darkened skies and the roofs of all of the other houses on the block, though even then the sight was void of any actual interest. The Maximoff residence was the largest on the block, and it towered over the houses that sat on both sides of it. You’d always thought that CEO’s lived in big lavish mansions, but Wanda and Natasha had chosen a perfectly normal town to settle down in. They had expensive cars, sure, but that wasn’t even a fraction of the money they had. They were total anomalies, and that fact was only making you grow more uneasy.

“Detka.” Natasha sighed, and you were thankful it was only her that had entered. Had Wanda been with her, you would’ve spiral face down into a panic attack that couldn’t be stopped. “I warned you, did I not?”

You sighed, knowing that there was no time for her to give you all the reassurances you needed. Wanda was being kind enough to let Natasha check in on you, but you doubted she had the patience to sit downstairs for hours as you pleaded with your dominant to give you answers even she didn’t have. “J-Just tell me what’s gonna happen. I need to know what’s going to happen.”

“She’s going to spank you, and then she’s going to hold you, and reassure you that you’re okay. No different from what I do. Are you okay with her spanking you? I know we’ve talked about it, but this isn’t the funishment you thought you’d be getting when we agreed to those conditions, huh?” Natasha collected you into her arms, being surprisingly gentle with you despite the fact that you had just called her wife a bitch. You shook your head against her chest, fisting her loose fitting t-shirt in your heads, fearing that she would pull away far too early for your liking.

“I wanted you to spank me.” You admitted sheepishly into her touch, sighing softly when her fingers tangled into your hair and gently worked out the knots that lingered near the ends. “I’ve been good and you’ve been… soft. And I just can’t get my brain to be quiet, and I wanted you to spank me so I kept trying to push your buttons and you just kept forgiving me.”

“Daddy’s been pretty lenient with you, hasn’t she?” Natasha cooed, not placing blame on your shoulders even though you knew she very easily could have. You nodded in response to her question, feeling better now that she was aware of the root cause of your attitude, even if that didn’t save you from Wanda’s wrath. “You’ve been breaking a lot of rules, rules that Wanda’s aware of.”

“She’s gonna give me ten for every one, isn’t she?” You winced, knowing that this would not be a pleasant experience and your ass was sure to hurt every time you sat down for at least the next week.

“She is, and it’s going to hurt. It’s supposed to hurt, but she’s not going to push you farther than you can handle. What do you call if you need a break?” Natasha asked sweetly, pulling your face away from her chest and holding your cheeks in her hands, forcing you to look up into her eyes and see that there's no lingering resentment or anger.

“Yellow.” You answered, the word engraved in your brain despite having never needed to call it. “Red if I need it to stop completely. But… we’re not playing.”

“Just because she’s not going to touch you after doesn’t mean that it’s okay for her to break you, detka. Is that what you thought was going to happen?” Natasha frowns, her lips turning deeper downward when you nodded as an answer.

“My dad… punished me with violence. He didn’t stop until he wanted to. You’ve only ever punished me sexually, not because I purposely broke the outside rules.” You whispered, another hint at your traumatic past hanging in the air. “I called her a bitch. I tried to kick her. I pushed her in the store yesterday.” You admitted, though when there was no reaction, you guessed that Wanda had already told her.

“Because you needed space. She is not going to punish you for that. She’s going to punish you because you were being disrespectful, and because you need it, huh? You need help getting that brain to shut off. You did so many big things this week, I bet it’s not that easy to just come back to this dynamic and allow us to take control when you’ve been the one in charge all week.” Natasha whispered knowingly, a glint in her eyes that reassured you of her understanding. “Finals are stressful. When Wanda and I were in college, we used to go at each other until we were red in the face and then we’d move on like nothing happened. We get it, milaya. We don’t expect you to be good at this yet, or to know how to ask for what you need. You can stop thinking the world is going to end because you made a mistake.”

“I meant to call her a bitch, but I didn’t actually mean it.” You admitted softly and Natasha chuckled, pulling you in closer and laying a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“We both know what you meant, malyshka. She’s not downstairs brewing in anger, even though I’m sure that’s what you’re thinking. This dynamic is not about fear and power. I should’ve explained that better. You have all the power here, honey, but just like you can call red, so can she. It’s a balance, a team effort. You got it?”

“I got it.” You sighed, leaning into her touch, wishing you could just surrender to this moment for the rest of your life, but there was no way that was happening. As daunting as it was, you needed Wanda to punish you. You want to let go of the guilt, you want to relinquish control and just listen to what they ask of you. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not the one you need to be apologizing to, but it’s okay. You did nothing wrong, even if I don’t exactly like you calling my wife a bitch.” She teased, her fingers leaving your cheeks to trail down toward your ribs where she knows your ticklish. You shrieked in response, wiggling away from her fingers just in time for Wanda to knock on the open bedroom door and announce her presence.

She was significantly calmer then she had been downstairs, and that faint lick of anger in her eyes had settled to dust, but she still captivated you and sought for your submission. Her eyes were green, you forced yourself to remember that fact. They weren’t overcome with blackness like all the other times you’ve awaited punishment, but thoughts of your childhood didn’t even come to mind as you let yourself be present in this moment. This was not your childhood. The second you needed this to stop, or you needed her to slow down, you had to say one simple word and it would. As much as this act was about you giving over control, you knew that the reality was you would never be fully powerless.

You didn’t know what to say, if you should even say anything at all, so you merely waved your hand in Wanda’s direction, not wanting to completely ignore her. She smiled softly at you, not softening her body language, but at least her face mirrored your greeting.

“Hi, malen’kaya.” She laughed softly, and you were relieved to find that Natasha had been being honest about Wanda not brewing in her anger, though you hadn’t really doubted her, just needed that validation for yourself. “You talk to Natty?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded your head, unaware of how your hand still tangled in the fabric of Natasha’s t-shirt gripped onto her harshly. It was an unconscious thing, but was quickly soothed by a kiss being placed into your hairline.

“I’m gonna be right here, ангел. If I think you need to call red and you’re not doing it yourself, I’m going to call it. Nothing bad is going to happen.” She promised, and you felt better at the proposition that she’d be looking out for you as well.

“That was quite the show you put on downstairs.” Wanda mused, her face back to that blank slate of dominance that made your palms clammy. You stepped closer to Natasha, just barely managing to nod your head at her admission. “Come with me.”

“Go ahead, I’ll still be here.” Natasha sent you toward Wanda with a gentle shove, and when you looked back at her over your shoulder, she merely smiled in reassurance.

Wanda led you over to the walk-in closet You’d never been inside, but you’d seen Natasha disappear into it after a scene, usually when she was scrounging around to find a specific cooling lotion for your ass. Wanda didn’t make any efforts to invade your space, giving you time to accept your fate on your own accord. The space was large, and there were no shortage of dresses and suits hung up on the taller racks. You smiled softly at a purple suit in the corner, wondering which of the two women it belonged to.

“That’s Natasha’s.” Wanda hummed, seeming to follow your eye toward the suit. “That’s not why we're in here though.”

You nodded, pulling your eye away from the suit in favor of following whatever box Wanda was pointing out. It was large and black, one of the only objects in the closet that looked like it didn’t really belong. She walked over to it, getting down on her knees and motioning for you to do the same.

“I can either spank you with my hand, or with a paddle.” You swallowed thickly at your options, but nodded your head and looked down at the case that Wanda had pulled open. Your eyes practically bulged out of your head at the sight of so many sex toys, but Wanda merely laughed at your flushed cheeks. “Natasha isn’t much a fan of being paddled. It stings and will burn for longer than a hand spanking does, but she has received plenty of both.” There’s a tinge of fond exasperation in Wanda’s words that make you think Natasha is better at asking for what she needs than you are, and that most of the spankings Wanda’s internally recounting aren’t all derived from punishment. You remember the conversation you had weeks ago, where Wanda had confirmed that Natasha was the submissive in their relationship.

“I don’t want that.” You whispered, shaking your head adamantly. “Never.”

“Okay. That’s perfectly okay. Not everyone likes instruments being used for a spanking. This is the lotion I’m going to put on you afterward. It’s the same one Natasha uses, but I want you to know what to expect.” Wanda gives you the bottle, and you don’t even bother to look down at it, entirely focused on her face. There’s something different about her like this, so easily dominant and captivating, you want to commit this new energy to memory. “You’re going to get fifty spanks. If you need to slow down, or if you need to stop, I expect that you call your safewords. If I need to stop, I’m going to call mine. Part of your punishment is that you will not be receiving an orgasm afterward. You're lucky I haven’t taken them away for the next week.”

You gulped, suddenly remembering that this was a punishment, although you didn’t know how you could have forgotten that fact. Wanda smirked in amusement at your flushed features, and tenderly she reached up to smoothing stray strands of hair away from your face. “Can I kiss you?” She asked quietly, and although it was Wanda not Natasha, you nodded eagerly. You didn’t hate her, you didn’t dislike her, you wanted her just as badly as you wanted Natasha. You didn’t know how you’d been so blind to that fact for so long. “Words, detka.”

“Yes.” You breathed out, already leaning into her touch when she set her hands on your cheeks and pulled your face into hers. Her lips were soft beneath yours, softer than Natasha’s, and she tasted like the fakest cherries. Her tongue swiped across your bottom lip, asking for entrance rather than demanding it. You didn’t hesitate to let her in, moaning softly into her mouth when her hot and heavy tongue licked against yours and officially claimed you the way you had seen it do to Natasha on a handful of occasions.

You don’t know how many minutes had passed as you sat on the floor of the walk-in closet, but when Wanda finally pulled away from you, her chest rising and falling faster than it had been before, your cheeks were flush for more than one reason.

“You can’t kiss me like that after you tell me I’m not allowed to cum tonight.” You whined softly, squirming on the floor as your arousal made its presence known between your legs. Wanda laughed in amusement, a dangerous smirk playing on her lips.

“I guess little girls need to learn how to behave if they want something from Mommy then.” The softest inch of her accent had drifted into the words, and if that wasn’t enough to send a rush of pleasure straight to your core, the added bonus of her title was. You whined desperately, your thighs rubbing together as you sought out even a second of relief. Flashes of Natasha teasing you on the phone came to mind, and the lust in your eyes only intensified. “Enough.” Wanda scolded, “I want you naked and bent over the bed in the next three minutes.”

You nodded obediently, having done enough arguing for the night. You got to your feet with the same grace as bambi, practically bolting out of the closet and into the bedroom. You giggled softly when you realized that your first kiss with the lawyer who was very proudly a lesbian had been in a closet of all places.

“There’s no way whatever happened in that closet deserves to be laughed about.” Natasha quirked an eyebrow in your direction, though it was significantly less scary then when Wanda did it. She watched you strip out of your clothes hurriedly, not sparing the few minutes you had been given to fold them nicely in a pile.

“Your wife is a lesbian.” You deadpanned, though you knew Natasha was very much aware of that fact if the felt pride flag in what you assumed was Wanda’s side of the closet had ever caught her attention.

“Yes, thank you for stating the obvious.”

“And she just kissed me in the closet.” You giggled, and Natasha couldn’t say that she wasn’t equally as amused as you were, but she had the decency to control her laughter in front of Wanda, who you hadn’t even realized was standing right behind you.

“If you don’t want me to add another ten onto your fifty, you’ll bend your ass over my bed and stop making me wait.” Your blood went cold and your spine straightened as you felt the softest trace of Wanda’s warm breath against the shell of your ear. The warning didn’t need to be whispered twice, because you were already scrambling to get into position, a lot less nervous then you had been before. “I want you to count them all. If you miss one, I add two more.”

“Okay.” You whispered, already fisting the comforter in your hands, waiting for the first strike to land against your uncovered ass. You didn’t even have it in your to be embarrassed about Wanda seeing you so exposed, just wanting to get this situation over with so that you could fall face first into Natasha’s chest.

“Is that how we address our dominants now?” Wanda practically growled, standing so closer to you that you could feel the heat of her body radiating onto yours.

“Yes, Mommy.” You fixed your mistake, your eyes pinched closed as you pushed your hips backward until they met her thighs, unconsciously seeking relief for your clit that was pulsing between your legs. You shrieked in surprise when she abruptly stepped away and laid the first hit onto your left cheek in only a matter of seconds. It didn’t take a genius to know that Wanda was well practiced in this domain. The spank was hard, significantly harder then Natasha had ever started out with, and you knew you were in for it with the promise of forty-nine more to come. “One, Mommy.”

Your grip on the comforter got tighter and tighter with each spank that came next until your knuckles were white and your chin trembled from the onslaught of pain. At the thirteenth spank, you moaned in pleasure, and your hips bucked backward desperately searching for pressure between your thighs that never came and wouldn’t come. Wanda’s laughter was anything but genuine behind you, and you didn’t even want to imagine what you must look like to her; bent over the bed she shares with her wife, your ass pink from the assault of her palm, and arousal dampening the insides of your thighs.

“So much for not having a pain kink.” She mused, though she wasn’t really talking to you. Natasha was sitting at the head of the bed with a smug gleam in her eyes, and you knew the sight of you like this was turning her on, if the dilation in her pupils was any indication of that fact. “Little slut is dripping.” You gasped when soft fingers ran over your ass, dipping lower and lower until they found your empty entrance that begged for anything to fill it, be it a dildo or the fingers of the woman who was responsible for pushing you into this state. “Do you like when Mommy hits you?”

“Yes.” You whine, not even attempting to keep your hips still as Wanda collects your arousal on the tips of her fingers, but like promised, never reaches your clit. You cried out your protests when her fingers left your core, only for you to gasp in shock when she leaned forward on the bed and fed them expectantly to Natasha who let her mouth fall open in acceptance.

The redhead moaned at the taste of you on her tongue, lapping at Wanda’s fingers until they were clean of your excitement. A needy moan left your lips seeing the blissful expression on the face of your dominant, and desperately you reached out for her hand that laid next to yours overtop of the white blankets on the bed. She let you grasp it, let you squeeze it and pull at it, but she never leaned in any closer to you. This was a punishment, you would not be rewarded midway through.

Wanda’s additional weight caused the bed to dip, and you had to readjust your stance to keep from slipping onto the floor. She wasn’t behind you anymore, rather perched on the bed beside your body, leaning in close to her wife whose lips shone in the dim lighting of the room with traces of your arousal. Wanda kissed her deeply, the wet sounds their moving mouths made taunting you further, and you groaned in response to their teasing. The lawyer who hadn’t even gotten halfway through your punishment moaned at the taste of you on her tongue, only pulling away from Natasha when she needed a break for air.

She was back behind the second she was breathing normally, and the fourteenth spank came in the same place her thirteenth one had. You counted out the spanks as they came, but other than the contact her palm made with your ass, you were properly ignored. If Wanda made a comment, it was directed to Natasha, and the one time you had been bold enough to answer for yourself, you had been met with a spank to the back of your thigh that was admittedly very soft and careful.

It was after twenty that you no longer found pleasure in her hits, and your moans and whines had turned to cries and sobs. Natasha held your hand firmly, her thumb rubbing against your knuckles as you took your punishment well. Wanda was proud of you, even if she hadn’t told you that yet.

“F-forty!” You sobbed out, arching away from the lawyer's hand only seconds after it came down on your ass. Your entire body ached from the position you were half-stood in, your cunt pulsed with need, but your ass was on fire and you had no doubt that it would be bruised by sunrise tomorrow. “Please.” You cried out, but you didn’t even know what you were begging for.

“You’re doing so good. You’re doing so good for me, milaya.” Wanda soothed you quickly and effectively, her tone soft and gentle as she let you have your feelings. The heavy hand that had been assaulting your skin for the last twenty minutes if the clock on her bedside table was accurate was suddenly soft as she rubbed soft circles on your ass, soothing the sting into a more bearable ache. “Ten more and then we can cuddle. Why don’t you let Natty’s hand go and she’ll go get you some water.”

“N-No! No! Natty stay!” You held onto her desperately, like even the suggestion of her leaving would make it come true.

“I’m staying, malyshka. I’m staying.” Natasha assured you, scooting closer to your trembling body so she could lay a hand on your naked back, her firm touch grounding you in this moment where both of your dominants were with you. “You’re okay. You’re being so good. Such a good girl. Ten more baby, think you can do that?”

You nodded albeit weakly, and Wanda took that as her sign to keep going, to get this over with so that she could put her efforts into comforting you. It was on the last spank that you had crumbled completely, going limp against the bed as you sobbed in relief. You made the decision that you never wanted to piss Wanda off to this extent again.

“Good girl. You were so good. Took your spanking so well.” Wanda helped you stand up, spinning you around so that her eyes could meet yours for the first time in half an hour.

“Mommy.” You sobbed, falling face first into her chest, clutching the fabric of her shirt in your trembling fists. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You repeated it like a mantra, sobs and sniffles the only other audible sound that you could hear. You didn’t recognize Wanda praising you for taking your punishment so well, you didn’t hear her whisper of a promise that it was over and you were forgiven. You hadn’t even realized that Natasha had promptly left the bedroom and gone down to the kitchen to retrieve water and a snack if you wanted it.

“Hey, hey. Look at me, look at Mommy.” Wanda coaxed your attention up at her, pulling your face out of the pit of darkness you had found against her chest. “You’re okay. It’s over. It’s all over.”

You nodded weakly, letting Wanda guide you into the middle of the bed and onto your belly. As promised, she rubbed the cooling lotion into your skin, mumbling soft praises beneath her breath whenever you flinched away from the contact. The soft cooling effect hadn’t taken long to set in, and when it did, it was like an immediate sense of relief had washed over your senses, though everything was still foggy and far away. You only barely recognized Natasha sitting down beside you, but you whined in protest when she tried to pull you into her side, reaching out to Wanda with a pleading look in your eyes that neither one of them could ignore.

It hurt to sit, that was putting it lightly, but you forced yourself up into a sitting position so that you could accept the bottle of water Natasha offered. She held it up to your lips as you gulped it down quickly, finishing half the bottle before she pulled it away, worried that you’d upset your stomach if you drank it all so quickly. Wanda had laid down beside you, forcing you onto her chest to alleviate the discomfort in your bottom. With your head on her chest, your legs between hers, your eyes searched for Natasha as she moved around the room, collecting pajamas and a wet washcloth that would be used to clean up the unfixed mess between your legs.

The first pass of the warm fabric between your legs had rubbed against your clit accidentally, and you moaned in pleasure that was quickly taken away. “Sorry, sweetheart. Not tonight.” She shushed your cries softly, though it didn’t make you any happier. You wiggled against Wanda at the uncomfortable feeling you weren’t used to being left with, and she didn’t try to stop you from rubbing your legs together.

“Tomorrow.” She whispered against your temple when you grew frustrated at not being able to fully satisfy the ache. “The more you move the worse it’s going to get. Mommy will take care of you tomorrow, just rest for right now. Close your eyes, detka.”

When Wanda’s finger attempted to wipe the fallen tears off your cheeks, you were quick to capture the finger between your teeth, and she didn’t even stop you. She smiled down at your flushed face, feeling more than content with your current clinginess. She knew you were down pretty far in that floaty headspace Natasha managed to ease you into every so often, and pride swelled in her chest knowing you were comfortable enough to allow her the privilege of not only seeing you this way, but making you this way.

“Ten bucks says she doesn’t leave your side tomorrow.” Natasha had hummed softly once she was sure you were asleep, only half dressed in the pajamas she had pulled out of the dresser for you. The shorts on your legs were a pair of hers, but you had been adamant against her putting the t-shirt on your body when you realized it entailed pulling away from Wanda’s chest.

Wanda rolled her eyes, though there was a fond smile on her lips that gave away her true feelings about this shift in your dynamic. Not perfect, but getting there. “I’m not making a deal, I know I’ll lose, Romanoff.”

“It’s Maximoff. Or did you forget?” Natasha quirked an auburn eyebrow, mirroring the expression Wanda had mastered after years of practice. She leaned over your body, careful not to jostle you too much and rouse you from slumber, and she kissed her wide softly, though the taste of your arousal still clung to her taste buds, and when Wanda realized, she shoved her away.

“If you keep kissing me when you taste like her I’ll never be taken seriously again.” The Sokovian warned, already addicted to the taste of your arousal, though she took punishment seriously, and it wouldn't be until the early afternoon settled overtop of Westview tomorrow when you found out just how good she is with her tongue.

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honeybuckin10 · 8 months ago

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Hospital Beds - a Hawks x fem!doctor!reader One Shot

Summary: Hawks heals more than his wings after the Paranormal Liberation War attacks [wc: 4.6k].

Warnings: mentions of mental health struggles, mentions of character death, descriptions of wounds, swearing, angst, fluff, comfort, potentially unpopular Hawks opinions. characters slightly aged up.

a/n: started writing thinking this was gonna be cute and flirty, ended up taking a kind of serious turn (still otherwise cute and flirty with happy-ish ending). might do a spicier part 2 at some point. as always, don’t be a ghost reader pls and ty <3

Hawks’ eyes were focused on the window, lost in thought. There was a crowd gathered outside Central Hospital. From the muffled voices through the glass, it didn’t sound like they were there for support. He felt the span of his back against the hospital bed, a sensation both foreign and grounding. The space where his wings once were stung slightly at the contact, despite the heavy nerve blockers he assumed were administered earlier.

“Back again so soon?”

You broke him from his trance as you shut the door behind you. Your eyes immediately scanned his monitors, a pleasant smile never leaving your face.

“At some point, we really do have to get your heart rate checked out.”

He didn’t actually have a high heart rate. But the machines he was hooked up to always went crazy whenever he got sight of you. He was too embarrassed to say anything, though he wondered if you noticed why his charts never reflected any underlying conditions when his vitals were checked by others.

“You’re not a very good patient, you know. Though now that you can’t talk, perhaps you’ll actually listen.”

He tried to respond, but quickly remembered he couldn’t open his jaw, not very much at least. No sound came out of the small gap between his lips.

You had treated Hawks on several occasions now, usually after incidents involving fire. Most were minor. He’d come in and joke that he’d done it on purpose to see you. You’d roll your eyes, every now and then you’d even dignify him with an actual response: ‘nice try’. But his injuries now were unlike anything you’d ever seen. You knew it was bad when he didn’t try flirting with you. Then again, it’s not like he could even if he wanted to.

Your tone was light and breezy, but the furrow in your brow betrayed your façade.

“I’m only joking, of course. But in all seriousness, your trachea was severely damaged from the smoke inhalation during the attack. Fortunately you narrowly avoided respiratory failure, but you won’t be able to use your voice for a couple of weeks. Lucky for you, technology has advanced enough that you won’t have to carry around a notepad everywhere you go. We recommend using the voice app on your phone.”

You handed him his cell phone, when Hawks noticed a plastic bag of personal items behind you with unknown origins. You followed his eyes to see what was distracting him.

“Oh yes, a young man named Tokoyami brought you a change of clothes and some other things you may need while you were out. Said he was your mentee.” You paused, searching for some kind of reaction. You thought it might brighten his spirits. His eyes widened somewhat, but there was still no smile. “It’s clear you’ve had a big impact on him.”

Tokoyami. His mentee. A child. More memories of the battlefield came flooding back. Twice. Dabi. He knew you hoped that bringing up his pupil would put him at ease. But Hawks was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt that he had put the student is such a dangerous situation.

“I also spoke with Dermatology. They informed me that sixteen percent of your body is covered with third degree burns, another twenty percent second degree, and twenty-two percent first degree. Given the severity and location of the burns, you’re also at risk of developing contractures that could compress your airways in the future so we’ll need to keep a close eye on that. Once your wraps come off, they’ve prescribed you a topical treatment that you’re to use three times a day until everything is healed. You’ll also be started on an oral antibiotic immediately, which you’re to take for three weeks.”

He attempted to use his new voice.

“What about wings?” You took a deep breath. Not good.

“I’m getting to that. I’m going to adjust your bed a little first. Are you able to lean forward?” He nodded as the bed rose up and the angle of his back moved more upright. He winced, unable to hide his discomfort but did as you instructed.

“I’m sorry, I know this is painful for you. I’m going as quickly as I can.” You talked through how you were examining his dressings, that his biggest risk at the moment was that the wounds would get infected, and that the dressings would need to be changed again before the end of the day.

“I think they will grow back. But it will be painful and it will be slow. You must be patient during this time and you’ll have to stay out of the field for a while. I’d recommend taking a well-deserved break until they’re fully healed.”

Bedrest sounded like Hawks’ personal hell. He only nodded his head. He didn’t have the energy to protest.

“You’ll also need to go through a psychiatric evaluation before rejoining field.”

Hawks let out a muffled groan. You let out an exasperated laugh.

“Really, you didn’t make a peep when I was examining your open wounds but you draw the line at psych eval?” You watched as he typed out his next thought.

“Waste of time.” Your eyes softened.

“First of all, this is standard procedure. Endeavor, Mirko, Eraserhead, all those UA students are going to have to get one too. Second, even if it wasn’t, what you – what you’ve all gone through would cause even the strongest soldier some kind of stress. We want to make sure that you’re all in the right headspace so that you’re the most prepared you can be going against whatever this enemy is. You have to take care of yourself first before you can take care of others.”

Hawks sat there a moment in silence, absorbing your words. Wondering whether you would be so sympathetic and kind if you knew the truth. He began typing.

“I killed someone,” the unnatural voice said. It came from him, but it didn’t feel like him. It echoed against the walls of the sterile room, void of emotion.

You pulled a chair next to his bed so that you were slightly below his eye level.

“I heard. That must be a lot to carry.”

“You hate me.”

“I don’t.”

“I’m a bad person.”

“You’re not.” You paused, choosing your next words carefully for the fragile hero. “I don’t know what your world is like. I wasn’t there so I don’t know exactly what happened. But I do know that we are both in the business of saving lives, albeit in different ways. My guess is you made a split second decision on what was in the mission’s best interest to save the lives of your colleagues and ultimately the lives of civilians. Nobody has a crystal ball to know whether that was the best or right choice. But it was a life or death situation, and you did the best you could in the moment. It’s natural to feel remorse and guilt, but you can’t let it debilitate you for the rest of your life either.”

What right did you have to comment on such things?

“You’ve never killed someone,” he countered.

“I have. In my OR. There are some people that can’t be saved, no matter how hard you try.”

“I think he was a good person,” he typed, wondering if that negated everything you just said.

“Good people do bad things all the time. It doesn’t make them bad people.” He sighed, swallowing the searing pain as harsh air passed through his lungs. You watched closely as the hero studied his bandaged hands, refusing to make eye contact. “For now, the best thing you can do for yourself and Japan is rest. We need you.”

He sat with your words. It didn’t dawn on him until long after you left the room that you weren’t just talking about Twice.

As you warned, the days passed at a glacial pace. He didn’t enjoy how quickly he acclimated to talking through his phone. He had growing pains from the nubs of his wings that began to poke through his skin. Each day brought a revolving door of doctors and healers and other specialists, by whom he was constantly poked and prodded and observed. Hawks hated every minute of it. Almost every minute.

You came in daily to monitor the progress of his wings. It was the most painful part of his recovery. But you entered his room with a smile and sunny disposition, like you weren’t about to inflict torture on him for thirty minutes. The air hurt his exposed back when you removed the old bandages. It stung when you applied antiseptic to cleanse the area. It felt like he was going to pass out when you ran your gloved fingers along the growth that was coming in. He felt all the more pathetic laying on his stomach as you did your work.

But you did your best to distract him with bad jokes and hospital gossip. Not that you had to put in that much effort. Your presence was distracting enough.

On the fourth day after the battle, you finally got a chuckle out him. What’s black and white and black and white and black and white? He shrugged as you applied ointment. A penguin falling down the stairs. You quickly realized that your methods may have been faulty as his laugh devolved into a coughing fit, his lungs still weak.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Try to remember your box breathing.”

He held his breath at the top of his inhale. Four, three, two, one. Exhale. Four, three, two, one. He repeated this for a minute before his breath finally returned to normal. He gave a thumbs up. I’m ok.

Relief washed over your face. “I’m sorry I made you choke on air. But glad to see you in better spirits today.” He began typing.

“I’m always in good spirits when you’re around.” You bit back a smile no one could see as you started redressing the incoming wings.

“Ah, there he is. Yeah, you’re definitely starting to feel better.”

“Can’t you tell? I’m the pinnacle of health.” The gallows humor was hard to miss despite the monotone robotic voice, the statement in stark contrast to his fully bandaged and hospitalized body.

“You will be, soon enough.” You finished applying new bandages. “That’s it for me today, unless there’s anything else you want to share.”

“Capricorn. 27. Single –“

“Yeah, yeah, very funny.” You pulled off your disposable gloves, turning to hide the blush creeping up your neck. “I already knew that from your chart. Nice try,” you teased.

“Didn’t know you were stalking me.”

“Goodbye Hawks, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You knew your faux sternness was hardly believable, as you caught him wink before you closed the door.

Two days later you bumped into Hawks and Best Jeanist in the hallway. You broke into a wide grin when you noticed the two heroes, pleasantly surprised to see just how much progress your patient had made in such a short time.

“Good morning gentlemen.”

“Good morning Dr. y/l/n,” Best Jeanist said with a small bow. Hawks was visibly confused about his formality.

“Please, there’s no need for that. It’s just good to see you back in the land of the living.” Best Jeanist helped fill in the gaps for his perplexed cohort.

“Hawks, Dr. y/l/n was part of the team who developed the drugs to put me in a temporary death-like state to convince Dabi that you’d killed me. We can thank her for setting us up for success to get you undercover.” Hawks knew he missed out on a lot during his covert mission, but had no idea how many parties were involved outside the ordinary network of hero agencies and the Commission. You blushed at the praise.

“It was nothing, really. You guys are the ones doing all the hard work.”

“Truly, we are in your debt,” Best Jeanist piled on. You weren’t used to so much flattery and you had a job to do so you tried to end the conversation.

“Anyways, I have to get to my next patient. Jeanist, keep an eye on your partner. It’s good for him to walk around a little bit but make sure he doesn’t overdo it.”

“I won’t let him out of my sight.” He gave another bow.

“I’m right here,” Hawks typed, unamused by the turn of the exchange.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, Hawks,” you yelled over your shoulder before disappearing down the next corridor.

The session later that day was nothing out of the ordinary. The nubs sprouting from his back had formed into tiny but well-defined wings and he was able to sit up during exams as opposed to lying face down on the hospital bed. All signs of positive progress.

He watched wistfully as you documented your observations, swaying his legs off the side of the bed like a child.

“They’re coming in quite nicely, I’m really happy with where you’re at.”

“Great what do I need to sign to get out of here?”

“Ahhh not so fast. You have to stay at least another two days and even once you’re discharged, you most certainly are not ready to return to active duty.” He pouted underneath his respirator mask.

“You’re no fun.”

“Sorry, just doing my job.” You proceeded to check his other vitals before heading out. First you took off his mask to check his lymph nodes, pressing your fingers firmly against the outer side of his jaw, moving down his neck. He was acutely aware of the lone thin layer of latex that separated you. He couldn’t stop the warmth that crept up his face, thankful that most of it was still covered. His flushed cheeks may have been under wraps, but he couldn’t hide his quickened pulse from you. You put on your stethoscope and instructed him to breathe deeply a few times, the cold metal circle moving from his upper back, to lower back, to his chest.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Your lungs are sounding better but your heart’s beating like crazy.”

He feigned surprise, which was much easier when he didn’t have to control his own voice. “Really? That’s odd, no one else’s said anything.”

You pulled up his chart again to check the inputs of all the other practitioners who’ve treated the hero since his arrival at Central Hospital. All values normal.

“On a scale from one to ten, how much pain are you in at this point?”

“Two or three.”

“Are you feeling nervous about anything?” He chewed his lower lip trying to think of a way to get out of this, knowing that if he said no you would run more tests which would be unnecessary and prolong his stay.

“Yes,” he lied. Kind of. He actually was a little nervous, though definitely not for the reason you likely thought. You brought your chair next to his bed again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” A loaded question.

“No.” The good thing about talking through his phone and the mask was that he could get away with saying less. Sympathetic people tended to not ask follow up questions.

“Okay. Well, you know I’m always here if you ever want to talk.” You spoke slowly, your reassuring voice laced with uncertainty. It was difficult to get a read on him when you couldn’t hear the tone of his voice or see his face. “Do you have any questions?” He nodded.

“Will you go on a date with me?” You almost choked on your own saliva. You blushed, but forced yourself to remain stoic.

“I’m very flattered, but there are strict protocols against physician-patient relationships.” Your stern message was undercut by your stammering, high pitched squeak.

“What if I promise to never get hurt again?” You tried not to smile, knowing it would only egg him on. You were failing.

“You shouldn’t be making promises you can’t keep.”

“What if I find a different doc?”

“You’ve gotten awfully good at talking through your phone,” you muttered under your breath.

“Can’t hear you.” Despite his mostly covered face, you could tell from the crinkle around his eyes that he was enjoying every moment of this interrogation.

“I-I’d have to take it up with the Board of Ethics.”

“That’s not a no.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Can I say one more thing?” You sighed, bracing yourself for whatever nonsense he was about to spew.

“I’d rather you didn’t but legally I think I have to say yes.” You watched as his thumbs frantically moved over the keyboard.

“Thank you for taking care of Best Jeanist. This operation wouldn’t’ve gotten so far without him or you.”

“Oh.” Your felt your heartbeat in your throat. “Again, just doing my job. Glad I could help.” You fiddled with some papers. “Let’s try this one more time. Do you have any other questions… about your health.”

Hawks shook his head, looking exceptionally pleased with himself. Despite the fact that you wanted to scold him for the bizarre interaction, you were reassured by his pleasant disposition, one you hadn’t seen since he arrived.

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow rolled around but you entered an empty sterile room, bed ready for a new patient. After a few seconds your confusion passed and you saw red.

You stormed down the hall in search for any hospital staff, until a poor resident had the unfortunate luck of being in your path.

“Where the hell is my patient?”

“I-I’m sorry?”

“Room 3409. Yesterday my patient was there and today the room is empty. He wasn’t ready to be discharged so where is he?”

“I-I-I don’t know ma’am, I’m sorry.”

“Dr. y/l/n, this is a hospital, not wrestlemania if you could keep it down please. And stop traumatizing the junior residents.” Hawks’ pulmonologist emerged from his office and tried to placate you. You glowered at the first young doctor as he silently excused himself from the conversation that was definitely beyond his paygrade.

“Please tell me he got moved to a different wing.”

“I’m afraid not.” He spoke again before you could let out another outburst. “I warned him of the risks of a premature discharge, to which he insisted he was feeling fine and that those were risks he was willing to take. I had him fill out some paper work and a consent form and he left this morning.” Your nostrils flared as you silently seethed.

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that so I don’t have to report you. Oh, and one more thing…” The doctor took a deep breath before proceeding, worried he may end up the subject of your wrath. “This is probably terrible timing, but – he requested to take you off his care team,” your eyes widened “…and should he be re-hospitalized that you not be involved.”

“WHAT?” You continued mumbling a string of profanities under your breath. The doctor continued slowly and calmly.

“He made it very clear it had nothing to do with the quality of care he received from you. But he uh, mentioned something about a potential conflict of interest.” He took a step back as you burned an imaginary hole through his head with your retinas. “I cannot emphasize enough how much I do not want to know any more information about this.”

“There is no more information about it because it doesn’t exist!” You wanted to scream. “Fuck him. Fuck you. Fuck this hospital. I’msosorryItakethoselasttwoback.” You stomped your foot down like a petulant child before storming off. “FUCK!”

By the next day you had cooled off, that is, until you saw Hawks loitering outside Endeavor’s room as you were making your rounds.

“YOU!” you boomed. Hawks’ excitement to see you was quickly replaced with fear as you approached and you were close enough that he could see the rage steaming off you.

“Hey doc,” he said sheepishly.

“Don’t you ‘hey doc’ me.” You were very close to his face. He was sure he would’ve felt your breath if he didn’t have the stupid respirator mask on. For a split second he thought about taking it off but realized that would only further enrage you. “What the hell were you thinking?”

He began typing but you swatted his hand before he could answer. “Ow.”

“And you –“ Best Jeanist would be the next recipient of your verbal lashings. “You said you would keep an eye on him. Liar.”

Hawks had never seen his colleague scared before, but there was a first for everything.

“He just wanted to come for a ride-along, I promise he stayed in the car the whole time!”

“I have never been more disappointed,” you said in a low voice. Best Jeanists bowed.

“I am very ashamed and deeply regret my actions. I am sorry.” That seemed to pacify you momentarily. You returned your wrath to Hawks.

“I told you you’re not ready to return to the field. And now I hear you’re refusing to receive treatment from me? I cannot explain to you how embarrassed and insulted I am.” You allowed him time to type this time as Best Jeanist stood there as witness, desperately wishing for the floor to open below and swallow him whole.

“You’re right. I’m not ready. But this enemy is moving too quickly, time is of the essence. I’m in good enough shape that I can help off the field. I’m sorry I went against your professional judgement.” You continued to glare at him with pursed lips.

“And?”

“And I was being proactive. I’m taking you on that date.” Your face flushed immediately while the avian hero somehow remained shameless. You did your best to maintain your composure.

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.” You crossed your arms defensively.

“After a stunt like this, I wouldn’t be so sure. Plus, since you’ve already taken it upon yourself to be discharged I’m not sure why you’re even here.”

“Now that we know about the Todoroki family connection to Dabi, we need to gather intel. Also need to consolidate info from those at the Jaku Hospital attack. Off-field work, if you will.” Your eyes narrowed, only to be met with undeterred playful golden irises.

“Fine, I’ll allow it. But I feel the need to make it known that I’m not happy about it.” The injured hero smiled again.

“Thanks, doc.”

“Again, our sincerest apologies for the mishap.” Best Jeanist did his best to make up for his companion’s clear lack of repentance.

You only gave the heroes a parting glare as you walked away.

The rest of the day passed, otherwise uneventful but long and exhausting. You kept a professional and pleasant face for the benefit of your patients, but it was getting hard to maintain after all you’d seen in the last seven days since the attacks. Yes, there were cases of miraculous recoveries in the face of overwhelming trauma. But far more frequent were lives that were forever altered by all that had transpired, not just for patients themselves but all the other souls connected to those individuals. The hospital was at capacity, and each bed represented not just one person but a web of lives that now had to face a new crippling reality. If you thought about it too much you could cry – which you did, in the nearest break room or supply closet if had even just two minutes between appointments. Thus, your favorite part of the day became doing paperwork in your office at the end of your shift. It was methodical and soothing, and allowed you to disassociate.

It was at that moment when you were enjoying your oasis that an intern rushed into your office, disturbing your peace.

“There’s an emergency on the top floor, you need to come quick.” You immediately got up and followed her down the hall and up the elevator, asking clarifying questions about the situation.

But when you entered the room in question, all you saw was a picnic blanket on the hospital bed, two champagne flutes, a bottle, and the number two hero. The intern shrank in the doorway.

“I’m really sorry, he said he would send me a bunch of merch if I could get you here.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” You rubbed your temples, hoping it would transport you to another dimension where you never went to medical school and thus would not be here. “You are not to accept a single thing from him, do you understand?” The intern nodded aggressively. “Now go, I’m sure you have better places to be, ideally with a patient who actually needs help.” The intern scurried away without another word.

“And you,” now turning to Hawks. “Bribing medical professionals? Super illegal.”

“Sorry.” His mischievous eyes said otherwise, clearly undeterred by your scolding. You scoffed.

“No you’re not.” He shrugged. You took a closer look at the set up. “Seems kinda wasteful, doesn’t it? You can’t even drink.”

He turned the bottle to show the label. Sparkling nonalcoholic cider. The corners of your lips tugged upwards, threatening to betray your steely exterior.

Any semblance of a smile quickly vanished, however, when he removed his respirator mask.

“What are you –“ He spoke before you could protest or before he lost his nerves.

“I’m going to be gone for a really long time after today. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Or if I’ll be back.” He cautiously grabbed your hands. “Regardless of which it is, I really want to make sure I don’t break any promises.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in when he paused. You suddenly found it hard to keep eye contact.

“This is a hospital, not the Make A Wish Foundation.” Despite your icy response, you made no effort to pull your hands away from him. He gently rolled his thumb over your knuckles, trying to memorize every ridge and crease.

Most of his face was still covered in bandages, but you liked that you could now see how his lips curved into a lopsided smirk, punctuated by laugh lines that formed around the corners of his mouth. You liked knowing that you were responsible for it. Your mind concocted imaginary circumstances of other things you could do to get him to make the same perfect expression. Your eyes lifted to meet his when you were done daydreaming.

“I thought they were one in the same.” He was insufferable. His arms fell to his sides when you separated yourself from him. For a moment he almost looked like the defeated shell of himself that was in your care a week ago. But it was quickly washed with relief when he saw you grab the bottle.

“You are the worst patient I’ve ever had.” A satisfying *pop* echoed in the room. He knew your words were hallow, as your acquiescence was rewarded with the hero’s bright eyes and heartfelt smile that made your heart beat in time with the little bubbles that evaporated around you. You handed him a glass of cider, his fingers ghosting over yours as he took the flute from you that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not your patient anymore.”

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chrisstvrns · 1 month ago

Text

𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲: 𝐜.𝐬.

warnings: mentions but no descriptions of abusive parents & mentally abusive parents. runaway child, smut, fluff, unprotected sex (wrap it), pussy eating, fingering, soft!dom!chris, pls lmk if i missed anything!!

word count: 3,339

silence. the train was silence. pure, utter silence.

you didn't know if you should do this. leave home. run away to los angeles—well, run away to chris.

nick, matt, and chris. your childhood best friends. the ones you hadn’t seen since they moved to LA once their youtube career took off. you’d talked on the phone, texted, and spent hours on facetime with all three boys. but you hadn’t actually seen them since they left.

they’d come back to boston a handful of times, but you never found the time to make plans with them. that was until you decided to stop taking shit from your parents and go to LA—for the boys.

you knew their address. they gave it to you "if you were ever in town." you had their locations too—not that it was ever helpful when you were across the country.

now, you were in an uber, just a block away from their house. that’s when you got the twitch notification. they just started a stream.

shit.

you opened the stream and saw nick and matt sitting in front of the camera, while chris was in the background, jumping on matt’s bed like a child. a couple of minutes later, your uber stopped in front of their house.

you let out a shaky breath as you grabbed your duffel bag and climbed out of the backseat. a single tear escaped, not from sadness, but from the overwhelming relief of finally escaping your parents' misery. you quickly wiped it away, taking in the warm los angeles air as you stared at the house.

slowly, you walked up to the front door, stopping directly in front of it. you clenched your jaw, raising a finger to the doorbell. you rang it softly, still watching their stream. one airpod was in, letting you hear the sound of the chime through twitch.

the boys looked at each other, exchanging confused glances.

"i’ll get it," chris mumbled, trotting out of matt’s bedroom.

you heard him unlock the door. the second it swung open, you looked up at him, biting your lip. both of you were speechless.

chris blinked, his face frozen in shock. his gaze flickered from your face to your duffel bag, then back to you. his lips parted slightly as if trying to form words, but nothing came out. you swallowed hard, waiting for him to say something—anything.

finally, after what felt like forever, his voice broke through the thick silence.

"no fucking way…"

chris pulled back slightly, still holding onto you as he turned his head toward the hallway. then, without a word, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside, shutting the door behind you. the warmth of the house wrapped around you instantly, a stark contrast to the cool night air outside.

you barely had time to take in the space before chris was leading you down the hall, his grip firm but careful, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

when you reached matt’s room, the door was wide open. nick and matt were still in front of the camera, talking to chat, while the twitch stream continued to roll. chris didn’t hesitate—he stormed inside, dragging you with him.

“end the stream right the fuck now.”

nick and matt’s heads snapped toward him, both of their faces twisting in confusion.

“what? dude, why—” nick started, but then his eyes landed on you. his words died in his throat, his expression freezing in shock. matt wasn’t any different, his mouth parting slightly as he took in the sight of you standing next to chris, your duffel bag still slung over your shoulder.

“holy shit,” matt breathed.

“yeah,” chris said, his voice still laced with urgency. “so, end the damn stream.”

nick fumbled with the mouse for a second before finally clicking something. “okay, okay, it’s ending—jesus, man.”

as soon as the stream cut off, silence settled over the room. all three boys just stared at you, their faces still caught between disbelief and concern.

“what… what are you doing here?” nick finally asked, his voice softer than before.

you swallowed hard, shifting on your feet. “i just… i needed to leave. and you guys were the only place i wanted to go.”

chris let go of your wrist, but his presence stayed close, solid. matt ran a hand through his hair, exhaling a deep breath before looking at you with something between worry and relief.

“well, shit,” he muttered. “welcome home.”

silence stretched between the four of you, thick and heavy. you could feel the weight of their eyes on you, like they were all trying to piece together how and why you were suddenly standing in their house.

chris was the first to move. he reached out, gently taking the duffel bag from your shoulder and setting it down by the door like it physically hurt him to see you carrying it. then, with a quiet “c’mon,” he grabbed your hand again and pulled you out of the room.

he led you down the hallway, past the kitchen, and into the living room. the house was quiet now, only the distant hum of los angeles traffic filtering in through the windows. you stood there, unsure of what to do, what to say—until chris turned to face you, his expression unreadable.

“what happened?” his voice was steady, but there was something beneath it—something raw.

you let out a shaky breath, running a hand through your hair. “i just… i couldn’t do it anymore.”

his brows pulled together. “do what?”

you hesitated, the words catching in your throat. saying them out loud would make them real. but chris just waited, patient, his blue eyes locked onto yours like he wasn’t going to let you bury this.

so, you swallowed hard and said it. “live there. with them.”

his jaw tensed. “your parents?”

you nodded, arms wrapping around yourself as if that could hold everything in. “they don’t care about me, chris. they never have.” your voice wavered, but you pushed through. “they only care about controlling me. about making sure i do exactly what they want, exactly how they want it. and i just—” you sucked in a breath, shaking your head. “i couldn’t breathe there anymore. i felt like i was suffocating. so, i left.”

his hands curled into fists at his sides. his lips parted, like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. instead, he just stared at you, his expression torn between anger and something else—something softer.

you let out a humorless laugh, looking down at your shoes. “i didn’t know where else to go. but i knew i wanted to be here. with you.”

chris inhaled sharply. when you glanced up, his eyes had darkened, his usual playful spark replaced with something intense.

“you should’ve told me,” he said, his voice lower now.

you exhaled, shaking your head. “i didn’t want you to worry. i didn’t want to be a burden.”

his jaw clenched. “don’t say that.”

you blinked up at him, surprised by the sudden edge in his voice.

he ran a hand through his curls, exhaling sharply before stepping closer, his fingers hesitating before brushing against your arm. “you are not a burden. you hear me?” his voice was rough, almost desperate. “you could’ve called me, texted me—i would’ve been on the first flight to boston if i knew shit was this bad.”

your heart stuttered. “chris…”

he shook his head. “no. i mean it.” his fingers curled gently around your wrist, grounding you. “you don’t have to go through this alone. not when you have me.”

you sucked in a shaky breath, your throat tight. you weren’t used to this—someone fighting for you.

chris must’ve noticed, because his grip on you tightened, his voice softer now. “i’ve got you, okay?”

your chest ached, but for once, it wasn’t from holding everything in. you swallowed past the lump in your throat, nodding.

“okay,” you whispered.

his lips twitched, just barely, before he gave your wrist a gentle tug. “come on. you’re staying here now.”

chris didn’t give you a choice. he just held your wrist and led you down the stairs, turning a corner before he stopped in front of a door. his.

he pushed it open and stepped aside, letting you walk in first. the room was messy—hoodies draped over the back of his desk chair, a half-empty water bottle on the nightstand, and an unmade bed with a heap of blankets tangled at the foot. it smelled like him, too—clean, but familiar, a mix of faded cologne and the lingering scent of whatever detergent he used.

chris shut the door behind you and ran a hand through his curls, exhaling. "you can take my bed."

you turned to him, frowning. "where are you gonna sleep?"

he waved a hand like it wasn’t a big deal. "couch. or i’ll just crash in matt’s room."

your stomach twisted. "chris, i—"

"no," he cut in, shaking his head. "no arguments. you need a bed, you get the bed."

the finality in his voice left no room to protest, so you just swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded. he studied you for a second, his gaze flickering to your duffel bag still clutched in your hand.

"you, uh—" he scratched the back of his neck. "you need anything? clothes, charger, food?"

you hesitated. "i should probably shower."

chris nodded, already moving toward his dresser. he yanked open a drawer, rummaged through it before pulling out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. "these should fit," he said, handing them over to you and pointing at a door connecting his room to his bathroom. "bathroom’s right through there, towels are in the cabinet."

you took the clothes, your fingers brushing against his as you did. he didn’t move away, just looked at you like he was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you were here.

"you okay?" he asked, voice softer now.

you let out a slow breath. "yeah. just… processing."

chris nodded like he understood. maybe he did.

"take your time," he murmured. "you’re safe now."

something in your chest tightened, but you just gave him a small nod before slipping out of the room.

the hallway was quiet as you made your way to the bathroom, but you could hear the low hum of nick and matt’s voices from the other room. you wondered what they were saying—if they were still in shock, if they were trying to piece together why you showed up at their door in the middle of the night with nothing but a duffel bag and a past you didn’t want to talk about yet.

inside the bathroom, you locked the door and leaned against it, exhaling shakily. the reality of everything was finally settling in. you were here. in LA. with them.

and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel alone. you were home. you were with the boys that you grew up with. the ones you lived for. and one of them, in particular, you longed for.

steam curled around you as the hot water pounded against your skin, washing away the weight of everything you’d carried with you to LA. you weren’t sure how long you stood there, letting yourself breathe for the first time in what felt like forever. but eventually, you shut off the water, dried off, and slipped into chris’s clothes. they were soft, worn, and smelled just like him.

when you stepped back into his room, chris was still there, sitting on the edge of his bed, scrolling through his phone. the second he looked up, his eyes softened.

“feel better?” he asked, his voice low.

you nodded, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt. “yeah.”

chris’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. then, he patted the spot next to him on the bed.

“come here.”

hesitating only for a second, you crossed the room and sat beside him. the warmth of his body so close sent a shiver down your spine. neither of you spoke, but the silence wasn’t heavy this time—it was charged, thick with something unspoken.

chris exhaled, running a hand through his curls before turning to face you fully. his knee brushed against yours, his fingers tapping lightly against the comforter like he was debating something.

then, finally, he spoke, his voice quieter than before.

“i meant what i said earlier. you’re not alone in this.”

you swallowed hard, your heart pounding against your ribs. “i know.”

chris nodded, his gaze dropping to your lips for just a second before flickering back to your eyes. his fingers twitched against the bedspread, like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure if he should.

“good,” he murmured.

the space between you felt smaller now, the air thicker, charged. his breath was warm, his presence overwhelming in the best way.

three days later

it had been three days since you showed up in LA. you spent those three days drafting out letters to your parents, explaining why you left.

the letters sat untouched on chris’s desk, ink smudged from where you’d gripped the paper too tightly, hesitating over every word. none of them felt right. nothing you wrote could explain the years of suffocation, the desperate need to leave.

chris had been patient—never pressing, never pushing, just watching you with those steady blue eyes, like he was waiting for you to be ready.

tonight, though, something felt different.

you were sitting on his bed, your knees pulled to your chest, the faint glow of his bedside lamp casting warm shadows across the room. chris was next to you, close enough that his arm brushed against yours every time he shifted.

“you don’t have to send them, you know.” his voice was quiet, barely more than a murmur. “not if you’re not ready.”

you exhaled, rolling your lips together. “i know.”

chris hesitated, then reached over, fingers curling gently around your wrist. his touch was light, careful, but grounding.

“can i do something?” he asked, voice softer now.

your breath hitched. “what?”

his fingers traced slow, absentminded circles against your skin. “just… trust me.”

you swallowed hard, nodding before you could second-guess it.

chris shifted closer, his hand trailing up your arm, slow and deliberate. your skin burned under his touch, warmth spreading through your chest as he reached up, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“you don’t have to think about them tonight,” he murmured, his voice lower now, rougher.

your heart pounded as he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“just think about me.”

“chris..” you whisper, your lips ghosting over each others.

“let me take care of you. youve had a rough week, you need to relax.” he mutters, his lips latching onto yours.

your hands find his face, holding him closer to you as you melt into the kiss. this is what youve longed for. since you were fourteen, youve always wanted chris.

chris’s hands slid up your arms, fingers brushing over your skin like he was memorizing every inch of you. the kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to make up for the years of waiting.

you sighed into him, your body melting against his as his hands found your waist, pulling you closer. the warmth of him, the way he held you like you were something fragile yet untouchable—it was overwhelming in the best way.

when you finally pulled away, breathless, chris’s forehead rested against yours. his eyes flickered over your face, searching for something.

“you okay?” he murmured, his thumbs rubbing soft circles against your sides.

you nodded, swallowing hard. “yeah.”

his lips quirked up slightly, but there was something deeper in his gaze—something raw. “good.”

he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you like he was afraid you’d slip away. you let yourself sink into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him.

chris exhaled, his breath warm against your hair. “you don’t have to do this alone. not anymore.”

your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie. “i know.”

he attaches his lips to yours once more, laying you back on his bed, hovering over you as his lips trail down your neck, sucking a faint mark.

his hands grip your waist, nibbling at your skin as he murmurs. “y’gonna let me take good care of you, baby?”

you nod, fingers threading through his brunette locks. he trails kisses down your neck, his hands gripping the hem of your tshirt. more specifically, his tshirt.

“can i take it off, baby?” he murmurs, still kissing your soft skin

you nod, lifting your arms for him. he swiftly tugs your shirt off, moving his mouth from your neck, down your chest, and swirling his tongue around one of your nipples, one hand softly rolling the other between his fingers. you let out soft whines, shivering at the touch.

“baby” he mutters, lifting his face from your breasts to look you in the eye “ive wanted this for so long. youre safe with me. you know that.”

you gently nod, fingers threading through his hair as he kisses down your stomach, stopping at the lining of your shorts. he toys with the waistband, looking up at you for permission. “may i?”

“please.”

he swiftly pulls your shorts and panties down in one quick swoop, licking his lips as he stares at your wet, puffy clit. he tugs the material off of your ankles, tossing them both somewhere on the ground.

he gently spreads your thighs, gently kitten licking your clit, holding your hips down on the mattress as you squirm, letting out soft whines of his name.

“louder, baby. ‘wanna hear you. nick and matt arent home.” he mutters, the vibrations of his voice against your pussy making your body shiver.

he sloppily sucks on your clit, his mouth and chin covered in your fluids. you feel him slide two fingers inside of you, making your back arch.

he pumps his fingers in and out of you, drawing you closer to release. he detaches his mouth from your cunt, continuing to pump his fingers in and out as your legs begin to shake, moans filling the room.

“come on baby, cum for me.” he mutters, kissing your cheek as you let out a sharp moan, gripping the bedsheet beneath you.

“tha’s a good girl” he whisper, removing his fingers from you and licking them clean, grinning as he kisses your lips

your hair find his face, holding his cheeks as you kiss him back.

“youre the only person i ever trusted to do that.” you whisper.

your fingers trace the line of his jaw, your touch tender yet certain as you pull him closer. his breath hitches, warm against your lips as he leans into you. the world feels like it’s fading away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, intimate moment.

his eyes soften, looking at you with an intensity that makes your heart flutter. “i know,” he whispers, his voice rough, like it’s coming from deep within. “and i won’t ever let you down.”

you hold his gaze, feeling the weight of his words. your heart races as you speak again, your voice barely above a breath. “i trust you with everything.”

a slow smile spreads across his face, and for a moment, the whole world feels right, like there’s nothing but the two of you and the unspoken promises between you. his hands gently cup your face, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss. every touch, every whisper, is a promise, and in that moment, you know this is where you're meant to be.

you ran away to him. you were safe with him. you loved him.

you were meant to be with him.

────────────୨ৎ────────────

a/n: guys ive been writing this for like 2 months and im finally done

- aurora ᯓ✮⋆˙

likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! ੈ✩‧₊˚

to be added to my taglist, comment on this post!

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #rory's blog𝜗𝜚 #© chrisstvrns #auroras blog𝜗𝜚 #aurora's fanfics ੈ✩‧₊˚#⋆˙⟡ chrisstvrns #the sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo

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certaimromance · 5 months ago

Text

✮ Bittersweet Sixteen.

TASM!Peter Parker x Kindergarden teacher!reader

main masterlist

Summary: After weeks of not speaking, you need Peter to do you a favor and put his suit back on. But the last thing you expected was to find your heart beating for him again, just like in high school.

Words: 4,2k.

Warnings & Tags: fem!reader. lack of communication. friends to lovers. pure fluff. first kiss yep. temporarily located years after the last movie, peter has already graduated from college and left the life of a superhero. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I have had this in my drafts since I started writing here (months ago) and it makes me very happy to be able to stop correcting it a thousand times and publish it.

Your office was your sanctuary. It was the only space in the entire school that offered a reprieve from the chaos—quiet, orderly, and a place where you could drink hot coffee in peace, without worrying about a child knocking it over. But today, everything about the space felt…off. Your desk, usually neat and meticulously arranged, was cluttered, a bag sitting on top that didn’t belong to you. The air was tense, charged with unspoken words. And most notably, you weren’t alone.

Peter Parker sat in the chair across from you, hunched over slightly as he fought with the too-snug sleeves of his old Spiderman suit. The blue and red fabric was wrinkled from years of disuse, clinging to him as though it, too, was reluctant to let go of the past. His hair was mussed from pulling the mask off earlier, and his expression was a mix of concentration and awkwardness as he avoided your gaze.

The last time you’d seen him was on your date—a surprisingly pleasant evening at a restaurant that had intimidated you at first with its crystal chandeliers and white tablecloths. You’d laughed more than you expected, found small moments of genuine connection beyond that of usual friendship, and left the night feeling a little lighter, a little more hopeful. It ended with a polite goodbye and a brief, somewhat hesitant hug. It made you think of the teenage girl you used to be, who had a crush on him back in high school. It might have been silly, but you felt butterflies, and you were sure he did too.

But then…nothing. No calls. No texts. You’d waited, your phone practically glued to your hand, each notification making your heart jump. Days turned into weeks, and the silence between you solidified, leaving you wondering if perhaps the connection had only been one-sided. Now, he had come to your work, yes—but not for you. At least, not in the way you’d once imagined.

It was all because one of your students was the biggest Spiderman fan you had ever met, and that was quite a lot for a kid who had practically lived more without the superhero in action than with him saving lives and walking between buildings. It was only a matter of time before you had a lightbulb moment.

“You know,” Peter said suddenly, his voice breaking the heavy quiet, “I don’t think this suit has seen daylight in years.” He tugged at the sleeve, grimacing when it resisted. “Either it shrank, or I grew. Both are bad options.”

The corner of your mouth twitched, a reluctant smile forming despite the tension. “It’s probably the suit. Lycra has a way of holding grudges if you don’t treat it right.”

Just like me, you thought. You still were trying to remind yourself that he was just there to surprise one of your students and that it wasn't about you or your friendship.

“Yeah,” he admitted, looking down at the suit. “It’s been a few years, at least. I’ve been busy…you know, at the lab.”

You stepped closer, reaching out instinctively to smooth the fabric along his shoulder. The action was small, but the proximity sent a wave of awareness through you. His shoulders were broader than you remembered—had he always carried himself with this quiet strength?

Damn, you had to concentrate. Really.

“Right,” you said softly, focusing on adjusting the suit. “The lab. I know…but you’re still good at the hero thing. Showing up, being there for people. That’s kind of the most important part, right?”

He looked up at you then, his brown eyes catching yours, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you. For a moment, he seemed on the verge of saying something, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he offered a lopsided smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Well, I couldn’t say no. Not to you.”

Your fingers paused on the cuff of his sleeve. The words were simple, but they landed heavily, stirring something in your chest that you weren’t quite ready to name. It was probably your heart exploding, just like when he would pass you in the hallways at school and accidentally brush your shoulder against his or when I smiled at you suddenly and said that you looked good. It was deja vu. A big one.

“You didn’t have to,” you replied, stepping back to create some distance. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d been too busy.” Just like how you were these weeks, not to call me.

“Too busy for Spiderman’s number one fan? That’d be a pretty lame excuse.” His attempt at humor was there, but his tone carried an undercurrent you couldn’t quite decipher—something apologetic, maybe even regretful.

You folded your arms, creating a barrier you hoped would steady you before talking. “Jamie’s going to lose his mind when he sees you,” you said, your tone deliberately light. “It’s the perfect birthday surprise.”

His face softened at the mention of your student, and he seemed genuinely grateful for the change in topic. “Jamie,” he repeated, testing the name on his tongue. “You said he’s, what, five? Six?”

“He turned six today,” you corrected, a small smile tugging at your lips. “And completely obsessed with you—well, with Spiderman. He spends half his recess pretending to swing between buildings, and his favorite art project this year was a crayon drawing of you fighting a giant lizard. It’s hanging on the bulletin board outside the classroom if you want to see it.”

“Now I definitely have to see it,” Peter said, his grin returning. “Sounds like my toughest critic.”

“Hardly,” you replied, the warmth in your tone surprising even yourself. “He thinks you walk on water. You’re going to make his entire year just by walking into that classroom with his birthday cake.”

He shifted in his seat, his usual boyish charm dimming slightly as he looked at you. “You’re the one making this happen. You didn’t have to ask me to do this. It means a lot, you know. That you thought of me.”

The weight of his words settled between you, making your heart tighten. There was something in his tone—earnest, maybe even vulnerable—that made it hard to look away. You knew better than anyone how much the decision to give up the hero role had cost him, how many times you two had talked about whether this was his true purpose in life.

“Of course I thought of you,” you said softly, and then, more hesitantly, “I mean, you’re Spiderman. Who else was I going to call for this?”

Parker chuckled, but there was a note of self-deprecation in the sound. That was not an answer to be expected, no matter how obvious it was.

“Yeah. Spiderman. Right.” He hesitated, his fingers brushing against the edge of the mask sitting on your desk. “I just…I didn’t think you’d call me at all. After, you know...”

There it was. The thing neither of you had been brave enough to address until now. Why? Why? Why?

The words hung in the air, thick with the weight of everything unspoken. You could feel the silence closing in, like the pause between breaths right before a storm breaks. His eyes—those warm, familiar chocolate eyes—seemed to be searching yours, as if waiting for some kind of answer, but you couldn’t quite find the words. He was your friend, your best friend, someone you could tell anything to. But now, nothing coherent can really come out of your mouth.

You shifted uncomfortably, the tension in the room almost unbearable. Your heart thudded against your ribs, and you knew you had to break the silence. But now wasn’t the time. Not in this place. Not like this.

“Let’s…let’s focus on Jamie, okay?” you blurted, your voice coming out sharper than you intended, almost a little too loud for the small space.

He blinked, clearly startled by the sudden shift, and for a moment, you both just stared at each other.

“Right, Jamie,” Peter echoed, giving you a smile that was a little too tight, a little too cautious. He shifted, standing up from the chair, and the air around you seemed to settle just a little.

You cleared your throat, stepping back, your gaze flicking to the clock on your wall. “He’s going to lose his mind when he sees you walk through that door.”

He looked at you, his lips twitching at the corners, though the tension in his eyes didn’t fully fade. “You’re sure you don’t want me to do a big dramatic entrance? Swing through the window or something?”

You laughed, though it felt a little strained. “Let’s keep it simple, okay? We don’t want to traumatize any of my kids.”

He chuckled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He moved towards the door, and for a second, you hesitated. He was still wearing the suit—his Spiderman suit, the one that had once made him a legend in your eyes. But now, as you stood there, a thought nagged at the back of your mind. The suit was a part of him, yes, but so was the mask. The mask was his identity, the thing that separated the hero from the man.

“Hey, wait,” you said, your voice softer than before, and he paused mid-step. You walked over to him, the sudden proximity almost overwhelming. The mask sat on your desk, waiting, like a silent question. Your heart raced as you picked it up, turning it in your hands for a moment, letting the weight of it settle. “You should probably put this on. You know, just to keep your identity safe. We don’t want anyone knowing who you really are, right?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said, his voice lower now, almost distracted.

You swallowed hard, your hands suddenly trembling slightly as you moved closer to him. The space between you seemed impossibly small, and for a moment, neither of you moved, just standing there, suspended in this strange, fragile moment. You could feel the warmth of his body, the soft rhythm of his breath as he stood in front of you, and for the first time since he walked into your office, it felt like the distance between you had closed.

And for a moment, everything felt like it did in high school, when you were both teenagers trying to hide the secret and not to fail your subjects.

Gently, you reached up, lifting the mask toward his face. His eyes met yours, and for a fleeting moment, everything in the room stilled. You could feel the weight of his gaze. And in that moment, as you moved to place the mask over his face, your fingers brushed against his skin—a simple touch, but one that felt electric. His jaw tensed under your fingertips, his breath hitching slightly.

You took a deep breath, your heart racing, and carefully slid the mask into place. The action was small, but it felt monumental, the kind of quiet gesture that spoke volumes. It was intimate in a way you hadn’t expected, and as you adjusted the mask, making sure it was secure, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted again in your heart.

“Perfect,” you said softly.

Peter looked at you, now fully transformed into Spiderman, and despite the mask, there was something in his posture, in the way he stood, that was unmistakably him. “Thanks,” he said, his voice muffled through the fabric, though there was still a tenderness in his tone.

The sounds of children’s laughter and chatter grew louder as you moved toward the classroom, the vibrant energy of the moment standing in stark contrast to the quiet tension that had surrounded you both earlier. You stole a glance at Peter. Even in the suit, even behind the mask, you could feel his nervousness, a subtle hesitation in the way his shoulders tensed, the slight uncertainty in his step. It was as if he was still learning how to be this version of himself again, but the earnestness was unmistakable.

When you reached the door, you paused, turning to face him. “Ready?” you asked, your voice soft but carrying the weight of the moment.

“Born ready,” he replied, his smile audible even through the mask, though it was tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

You took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping in first to scan the room. The instant the door swung wide, the children’s eyes locked on you, their faces lighting up with excitement. Jamie, sitting at the small table with his friends, froze mid-conversation. His eyes widened, his face glowing with anticipation as he jumped to his feet.

“Miss! Is it time for the surprise?” he asked, his voice full of wonder.

“Not just yet,” you said, your lips curving into a conspiratorial smile. “But I think you’ll want to pay attention.”

And then, with a theatrical flair you hadn’t expected, Spiderman stepped through the doorway and the cobwebs appeared. The room erupted in gasps and squeals of delight as the kids leapt from their chairs, crowding around him with wide-eyed awe.

Jamie froze, his mouth hanging open as he clutched the edge of the table. “No way,” he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief. “It’s really him?”

Peter crouched down to Jamie’s level, his movements fluid and natural despite the years away from the suit. “Happy birthday, Jamie,” he said, extending a hand for a high-five. “Someone tell me you’re my biggest fan.”

A soft laugh bubbled in your chest at the mention. The kid hesitated, looking at you for confirmation, and then, with all the enthusiasm his tiny six-year-old body could muster, slapped his hand against Peter’s gloved one with the loudest, most joyful smack. “You’re real! You’re really real!”

The other children chattered excitedly, peppering Spiderman with questions about his powers and his adventures. He handled it all with practiced ease, weaving just enough humor into his answers to keep them laughing but still utterly convinced that he was, in fact, the superhero they adored.

As you watched him, standing back and taking it all in, a soft warmth spread through your chest. He wasn’t just good at this—he was great. His ease with the kids, the effortless way he connected with them, it was clear: he was a hero not only in costume but in every little action. The doubts that had plagued him, the years spent questioning if the mask was still a part of him, seemed so far away in that moment. He had it—the ability to inspire, to make people believe, to make them feel seen and important.

For the first time in weeks, you felt that flutter in your chest again—the one you hadn’t realized you’d missed so much. It was hope, soft and steady, like a heartbeat you’d forgotten how to hear until now.

You stayed near the back of the classroom, content to let Peter soak up the adoration while you took a couple of pictures of it. But every now and then, he would catch your eye, and even through the mask, you could feel the gratitude radiating off him. It was a silent thank-you, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond between you, for pulling him into this moment, for giving him the chance to be this version of himself. You nodded, your lips curving into a small, affectionate smile.

When the excitement finally began to settle, the cake was brought out, and Jamie proudly showed Peter his crayon drawing—an adorable depiction of Spiderman battling a huge, ferocious lizard. He studied it for a moment before declaring with all the sincerity he could muster, “Museum-worthy,” making the kid’s face light up with pride. The joy in the room was palpable, and it was impossible to tell who was happier: the children, who were living out their dreams, or the superhero himself, who was finally realizing that, perhaps, there was still a place for him in this world.

Eventually, it was time for him to “swing” away, and after a round of hugs and high-fives, he disappeared down the hall, leaving a room full of awestruck children in his wake. You stayed behind, cleaning up the remnants of the party and basking in the lingering joy.

By the time you returned to your office and all the kids to their houses, the hallways were quieter, and the sound of little feet had faded. But when you stepped inside, there he was—Peter, still waiting for you, now back in his civilian clothes, the Spidey suit crumpled in one hand like a tired, old memory.

“Oh,” you said, a little startled. “I thought you’d already left.” I wish.

“I figured I’d stick around for a bit,” he said quietly, running a hand through his hair, still slightly ruffled from the mask. “I don’t exactly get to see kids this excited for me every day.”

You couldn’t help but smile in return. “You really made Jamie’s day. I’ve never seen him so starstruck. He’s going to be talking about this for his whole life.”

Peter chuckled, but it was a little strained. “It’s good to know I’m still that impressive,” he said, his tone light, though there was an underlying sadness that didn’t quite match the words. “I guess it’s been a while since I’ve been in the game…you know, the hero thing.”

You just nodded. “You are good at it, you know.”

His smile was a little wistful as he tossed the suit onto the desk, his eyes following it for a moment before meeting yours again. “Yeah…but that’s not really what I came here to talk about.”

At his words, you felt a flicker of curiosity mixed with unease. You crossed your arms, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. “Oh? What did you want to talk about?” Please say you want to correct my bad posture when I took the pictures or something.

He shifted in his seat, his fingers nervously tapping against the desk. “Honestly…I’ve been thinking a lot these past few weeks,” Peter began, his voice quieter now, almost like he was trying to gather his thoughts. “About you…about us. And, well, I guess I just…I missed you.”

Oh, that.

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden vulnerability in his words. For a moment, the room seemed to close in around you, your breath catching in your chest. He missed you? You hadn’t expected that.

Before you could respond, he went on, his words coming faster, like he couldn’t stop himself. “I know things have been weird since the date. And I didn’t…I didn’t want to just text you or call and make it feel like I was making things awkward. You know? So, I guess I just…waited for you, and I get the message.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and every conclusion you ever had was shattered.

“Wait,” you said, the realization dawning on you. “You were waiting for me to call?”

“Yeah. I mean…I thought maybe you were the one who needed space, and I didn’t want to rush things or make it weird. I didn’t want to push you into something you weren’t ready for or didn’t want.”

Not ready? Don’t want? You literally had been wanting it since you were sixteen.

You blinked again, feeling a warm flush spread through you. “I…I thought you were the one avoiding it. I didn’t want to make things uncomfortable, so I didn’t reach out either.”

His eyes widened slightly as the words sunk in, and for a moment, there was just a long silence between you, filled with the soft hum of the fluorescent lights above. Then, finally, a soft laugh escaped him, and you couldn’t help but chuckle too, the tension easing slightly.

“I guess we were both just sitting here thinking the other person would make the first move,” Peter said with a grin, shaking his head.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “This is ridiculous,” you said, your laughter soft but genuine. “We’ve been friends for years, and now we’re both too nervous to talk about it.”

He chuckled, his gaze dropping for a moment. “Yeah. Seems like we’ve been pretty bad at this whole communicating thing.”

The laughter between you two died down, the room suddenly feeling warmer, the space between you shrinking with each passing second. For a moment, there was nothing but the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights and the soft shuffle of Peter’s shoes against the floor. You felt a spark of something flicker within you—something long suppressed, a longing, an ache you hadn’t quite realized until now.

He shifted in his chair, a bit unsure of what to do next, his fingers absentmindedly brushing the fabric of his crumpled suit. His eyes met yours, and for a second, the weight of everything—your shared history, the unspoken words, and the lingering emotions—hung in the air like a delicate thread waiting to snap.

“I guess we should…try this again,” he murmured, his voice low and tentative. The vulnerability in his tone made your heart flutter. “If you want.”

You nodded, feeling your cheeks warm, but this time it wasn’t from nerves. You stepped closer, closing the space between you, feeling the presence of him so close you could almost feel the thrum of his heartbeat.

“Yeah…let’s try again,” you whispered, almost to yourself, but loud enough for him to hear. “I want it.”

Peter stood up, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he was giving you time to change your mind. His hand reached out slightly, as if asking for permission, and you met him halfway, your fingers brushing against his. A spark of warmth shot through you, igniting a familiar flame.

He cupped your face gently, his thumb tracing the curve of your jawline, as if memorizing every detail of your expression. Your breath caught, heart pounding, as you met his gaze—his brown eyes soft, but with that unmistakable spark of affection you had longed for.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured softly, his words both an affirmation and a confession. The sincerity in his voice made your breath hitch in your chest. You smiled shyly, unsure how to respond but feeling the weight of his words settle deep within you.

Slowly, he leaned in, and for a moment, time seemed to slow. His lips brushed against yours lightly, just a whisper of a kiss, a hesitant touch that held more promise than any grand declaration. You closed your eyes, letting the sensation wash over you, feeling your body relax into the familiarity of him. His lips lingered against yours for a heartbeat before pulling back, as if checking in, unsure of how much was too much, too soon.

“I don’t want to rush anything,” he said, his voice a little shaky, as if unsure of how to navigate this new territory between you two. “I just want to take things slow, see where this goes…do it right.”

You nodded in agreement, your hands gently gripping his as you let the moment linger. “Yeah, me too. No need to rush.”

He stepped back slightly, looking at his watch with a sigh. “I should go,” he said, his smile a little sad. “I’ve got work, and you probably have things to do.”

You felt a pang of disappointment, but you understood. The moment, as sweet as it had been, couldn’t last forever.

“Yeah, I get it,” you said, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. “I’ll see you soon, right?”

He nodded, a warm smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yes, you definitely will.”

Peter took a step back toward the door, but before he could reach for the handle, he stopped, turning to face you once more. There was a hesitation in his eyes, a pull that seemed to tether him to you in that moment. Without a word, he crossed the room in a few strides, his hand reaching for you again, this time more urgent, more sure.

Before you could say anything, his lips were on yours again—this time, deeper, more insistent, as if he could no longer wait for you to make the first move. It was a kiss that spoke volumes—of all the missed chances, of the longing, of everything unspoken between you. It was both sweet and desperate, a promise and a question wrapped up in one.

You responded instantly, your hands finding his shoulders as you leaned into the kiss, feeling the heat of his body against yours. For a few moments, nothing else mattered but the rhythm of your kiss, the way his fingers brushed your hair back, and the warmth of his breath against your skin.

Finally, when the kiss broke, both of you stood there, breathing a little heavier than before, eyes locked in a silent exchange that said more than words ever could.

He ran a hand through his hair again, his expression a mix of longing and determination. “I’m not waiting anymore,” he said softly, as if to himself. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

You smiled, the weight of his confession making your heart flutter. “Then don’t wait,” you whispered back.

And with that, Peter leaned in one last time, pressing his lips to yours, not with hesitation or doubt, but with the certainty that whatever this was—whatever was between you two—was worth fighting for, even if you both weren't sixteen anymore.

#tasm peter parker #tasm spiderman #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter imagine #tasm andrew garfield #tasm fanfiction #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x you #spiderman #peter parker #andrew garfield

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elysianightsss · 6 months ago

Text

RUN FROM ME DARLIN, YOU BETTER RUN FOR YOUR LIFE | PART TWO

You grab your duffle bag, with one last glance at Kate and the red vials still on the table, you left.

Part of you knew that Kate didn’t know what had happened to you, only that you had been sent away but back then you didn’t care. You hated her and you sure as shit made sure she knew it.

At first you thought it was a good thing, that you missed the helicopter ride out of there, you started to make up with Kate. Bond. But then there wasn’t another helicopter out of there for four months straight. Soon enough you became suspicious and found out why.

The team, excluding Kate, had been ordering whoever was flying that week not to land at the base. You were stuck there and after being there for so long you eventually began to pick up on their obsession with you. At least one of them had to be with you at all times.

Once you got semi comfortable with them they became way too touchy. The one time you managed to get away from them you searched Johnny’s room only to find sketches of you in inappropriate positions and pictures of you sleeping.

You managed to get ahold of Kyle’s phone to find a group chat with the four of them in talking about you. What you smelt like, looked like, your likes and dislikes. All the things they’d love to do to you. They were insane. You knew a crazy person when you saw one and there were four of them on base with you and your sister.

Your sister. The little trust you had built up shattered when you told her what was going on. The guys had been finally called away on a mission, one they couldn’t reject. You were so happy to get rid of them, to have you freedom back, even if a small part of yourself missed their presence. Not that you’d even admit that even to yourself.

You had told Kate all about what you’d found but she didn’t believe you and even scolded you like a child for making up such accusations. That was it, you’d had it. With the four of them following your every move and Kate giving you the silent treatment, you were starting to feel as though you were back in the red room.

You packed your bag in the middle of the night and hot wired a car before driving far far away. You made it to the mainland where you were able to go to the nearest hotel. You waited patiently before watching this older lady leave her laptop open to go get another drink. You swiftly grabbed it and ran into the nearest bathroom.

You booked the quickest plane ticket you could find, it didn’t matter where it was for. Thankfully for you it wasn’t too bad. You would be flying to Italy in an hour, plenty of time for you to get to the airport. Slipping the laptop back when no one was looking, you made your way out of the hotel lobby and out the front.

Now, when you thought that Kate’s team was obsessed with you, you were actually nieave enough to believe it began and ended with you being on base with them. You never even imagined in even your wildest dreams or nightmares that these men would follow you.

Not until you were about to turn a dark corner and you heard the familiar thick Scottish accent, “She’s ain’t just a regular civilian Cap, she’s trained for this type a shit. We can’t underestimate her.” Your hand covered your mouth as you fell into the dark crack in the wall.

Holding your breath as he went past, you watched Johnny with curious eyes before they darted around you. He was there but where were the others? Even bigger question was, did it matter?

At this moment in time, Johnny was the one standing between and the stolen car. Thing probably had a tracker on it, you needed to find a new vehicle but with him right there you wouldn’t get far and it didn’t look like he was moving any time soon.

Your hand moved down to your gun, flicking the safety off it while it still sat in your thigh holster. Just as you pressed the strap away you heard him speak again, something about Kyle coming to his location. It suddenly dawned on you that you didn’t have a silencer on the gun, if you shot him the rest of the team would come running and you’d be in an even worst situation.

Flicking the safety back on and the strap that held it in place you made your decision, you’d have to fight him. Hand to hand combat. Clicking your neck you rushed forward running at a ridiculous speed, he turned just as he heard your footsteps only for you to slam into him.

Both of you bursted through old metal doors, as you stood you took in the dusty, empty warehouse. Rusted railings and stairs, a filthy floor where Johnny was standing from with a cough. Your eyes were back on your target as you pulled out a knife and dropped your duffle bag kicking it to the side.

“Easy princess, just wanna talk.” He holds up his hands in defence while eyeing the knife in your hand cautiously. You ignore the throb between your legs at the nickname rolling off his Scottish tongue. No, you couldn’t be distracted right now. Not when you had a fight to win.

Your pupils widened, eyes darkening as they blackened. A sight Johnny had to admit made him nervous. You were a trained killer after all, but then again wasn’t he?

“No talking.” You clicked your neck to the side, before descending on him. You moved quick he noted, using all his strength and tricks against him. You were right about the girls, you were matching every move he made, countering them with such efficiency and a ruthlessness even Simon couldn’t match.

He’d never seen or felt anything like it.

You were coming at him once again, after getting up like his punch meant nothing. Not even a flinch. Johnny started to panic. Panic that he’d loose this fight and in turn loose you for himself and the team.

He kicked the knife from your hand and managed to be swift enough to kick the back of your legs as well, taking you down to the floor.

“Did you just- kick the back of my knee? Are you fucking serious? Childish little-“ you growl taking another swing which he doges but it gives you plenty of time to grab your hidden two inch knife and stab him in the side just below the ribs. He groans loudly stumbling back away from you.

“Did you think I’d be easy? I warned you didn’t I?” You scoffed, jolting forward sticking your leg out and swiftly taking out Johnny’s legs, he dropped to the floor, using your foot you kicked him in the shoulder sending him across the room, just as you had done to your bag earlier.

“You messed with the wrong cyka.” You growled as he got up, you stalking towards him fury blazing in your eyes.

Johnny grinned like he was enjoying this fight, maybe you were too. His big hand gripping itself on your neck, you grabbed his wrist pushing yourself off the ground swinging around his body and using his weight against himself slamming him down on the ground. He blinked up at you in complete shock, allowing you to grab the knife he’d kicked out of your hand.

He was down and you were ready and rearing for another round, he couldn’t believe it. A little thing like you, “Y’know people only have a certain amount of moves.” You smirked, Johnny raised an eyebrow groaning as he stood up. You didn’t even give him a second, rushing yourself forward jumping on him.

“You have five!” You yelled squeezing his head between your legs, his big hands coming up to grip the fat of your ass. You created a first, the handle of the blade sticking out of it, and hit his head right on the nerve you had studied to make someone pass out. Johnny yelled in pain, his eyes slipping close as he fell unconscious. His grip on you loosened to nothing as he fell backwards onto the floor. You simply landed on your feet looking down at him, your chest heaving.

You ran to your bag, grabbing it and running from the scene. Looking for a car, eyes spotting a brown jeep. Perfect. Hot wiring the car wasn’t even necessary, whoever owned the car had left the keys in the ignition. You pressed the gas and sped off as fast as you could not even looking back, though you did catch a glimpse of a ghost in your rear view mirror.

Shifting gear to four, you kept going. There was no way you were stopping now, you just needed to find a place to go. You weren’t going to make it to the airport on time for your flight. Ah well it wasn’t your money you wasted. Poor old lady.

You didn’t have a plan except to keep on driving until you could think of one.

Hours and hours of driving, petrol stations and greasy food later you pulled into a town which wasn’t marked on the map you stole at WHSmiths next to the Starbucks that had the best coffee you’d ever had in.

You definitely weren’t lost, you knew you’d driven all the way to Glen Coe, the north part of Scotland. Regardless of Johnny’s heritage, seeking shelter here right under their noses was probably a better plan than getting on a plane and moving from place to place where cameras can pick up where you are.

Out here in the wilderness, without WiFi and internet. They’d never find you. You walked around town for a bit then hit the road driving into the forest area to see if you could find a shelter further away from civilisation. And you did.

The present…

Happiness is a fickle creature. A constant companion to some, hides herself entirely from others. She’s been an elusive creature to you. You don’t particularly remember the last time she had visited you, it had been so long since she’d hidden herself away, you barely remember what she looks like. Nevertheless you feel yourself still seeking her out, even if you’re wholly against putting yourself into situations with others.

Just like this one, the Halloween bash. A stupid idea really but..oh who are you kidding it was an idiot idea and you knew it. But they hadn’t found you in the now five months you’d been hiding.

What’s the worst that could happen?

To be continued…

Tags | @fruitymoonbeams-blog

#elysianightsss #RUN FROM ME DARLIN SERIES #poly 141 #141 x you #yandere 141 #141 smut #141 x reader #cod 141 #task force 141

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mr-celestial-writings · 7 months ago

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The Oldest Biological Child [Headcanons/Drabble]

Trigger Warnings: Child Neglect, Violence

Trans Masc Reader

================================================

You are Bruce's oldest biological child. Older than Damian, but Younger than Tim.

Sometimes, you wish you weren't. You never asked for your Mom to sleep with Bruce Wayne and get pregnant with you. You didn't ask for her to die protecting you.

You had grown to resent your family. Much like how it felt they resent you for just being born.

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Bruce Wayne:

When your mom had died, he didn't even pick you up himself. He sent Alfred to do it.

He had set you up in a fairly small room in the manor. You had enough room for your few belongings, but it wasn't anywhere near as large as the room of your siblings.

When you had come out to him as trans, he didn't disregard you, or do anything to discourage you. He helped you change your name and gender on your documents, but that was as far as his support went.

You can't recall a single event where he was there. Birthdays, Holidays, School Events. You went above and beyond, but you never got his praise.

He acknowledged you, but he never bragged about you. He never brought you out for father-child dates like he did the rest of your siblings. You were just... there. A decoration, a Ghost.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At some point, you stopped trying to be a spark in your father's eyes. You came out to him, not for his support, just so he could go through all the legal stuff.

Honestly, you couldn't care less if he supported you He wouldn't remember your name anyways.

You thought you could bond with your brothers, but you were wrong.

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Richard "Dick" Grayson:

You thought Dick would at least be there for you. He was for a bit. But you were never a priority.

He always had a bag of excuses. "Sorry, Little D wanted me for something" or "I promised I'd help Tim!" You stopped trying after the 3rd year.

When you had come out of him, he voiced his support! But he did constantly slip up and accidently deadname you. He apologized, but the damage was done.

You can kind of remember him as some events. A couple birthdays, you think he gave you a birthday gift once. It was so infrequent though the the memories were starting to fade.

You knew you were never important to Dick, so you were never surprised when he never spoke about you. He seemed to forget about you sometimes.

Somehow, his friends were better to you than he was. They actually remembered you. Hell, you're sure Wally picked you up from school more than Dick ever did.

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Nobody was ever outright cruel to you. Well, except for Damian that is. But you could tell that Dick didn't really care about you.

You were normal, average. Why would they pay attention to you? Your brilliant mind or beautiful art didn't change the fact that you were an untrained civilian.

You were useless to them.

Well, to most of them. There was one brother who actually tried.

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Jason Todd:

"Damian is the Son of Bruce, but you, [Name], you are mine."

Jason could see you were lonely, a Ghost. And it hurt his heart. In his opinion, nobody deserved to be forgotten. Everybody deserves to be remembered and heard.

He hung out with you, brought you out to hang out with the Outlaws, Trained you, Picked you up from school. But with his strained relationship with Bruce, he couldn't always be at the Manor.

He gave you the location of all his safe houses and his phone number, though. Anytime you called, he picked up.

When you came out as trans to him, he offered to beat up anybody who harasses you. He dragged you out clothes shopping too. He bought you your first chest binder. Hell, he and the outcasts threw a whole party for you.

He tried his best to be at every event. Anytime he couldn't make it, he brought you out on a Boy's night with Roy, Bizzaro, and himself. He may or may not of bought you a shot on your 16th.

You have a place with Jason and the Outlaws, even if you don't belong with the Waynes.

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Jason couldn't make up for all the hurt. He knew that. He was one person, there was not snowflakes chance in hell that he could fix years of neglect.

But you knew you could always run to the outlaws. They welcomed you with open arms. His training made sure you could keep up with them. You were part of the team, without them even saying as much.

The third brother was Jason's polar opposite though.

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Tim Drake:

Honestly, you didn't even know Tim's name until you heard Dick shout it across the manor. It was very much an "Oh hey I have another brother" moment.

You two rarely interacted, just occasional nods to each other if you passed each other in the hallway.

You didn't even bother coming out as trans to Tim. You two were complete strangers. Sometimes you would remind him to put the coffee down and sleep.

Like Bruce, you couldn't remember a single Tim time was at an event in your life. You half convinced yourself he was a mass hallucination until you met his friends.

Like with Dick, Tim's friends were a lot more welcoming to you. Conner had spent more time with you than Tim ever did.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Tim respected each others space, both of you content with being strangers. Tim had his team(s) and the family, you had the outlaws.

You may not have been as smart as him, but at least you were smart enough to not push yourself.

You tended to keep to yourself and spend more and more time with the outlaws, basically getting adopted by them. Jason even taught you how to drive a motorcycle and do the Akira slide!

You thought you were okay, until the fourth came alone.

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Damian Wayne:

When you and Damian had first met, he stabbed you. Nowhere vital, but you did call Artemis as you patched yourself up. Goes without saying she picked you up and gave Bruce an ear full before dragging you away. Not how you wanted him to find out you were an outlaw.

Damian didn't stab you again, but he constantly insulted you and degraded you. "Whore's son" "Mistake" "Failure" The list really goes on. He never crossed the line and insulted your gender identity. Points for that.

You understood why Damian was like this. Being raised by assassins wasn't easy, and realizing he had a blood sibling was probably difficult. It didn't mean it didn't hurt any less.

Damian was never at any event, why would he be? You two didn't get along and he saw you as a mistake. And you found that you didn't care anymore.

You basically moved out of the manor at that point, staying with the outlaws more. Jason had taken you up as his own little side-kick. So when you and Damian had run into each other on patrol, it was a showdown. He had threated to tell Bruce, and you had simply said "Do It."

Things were a lot more strained after that.

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After that run in, you stopped returning to the Manor. On your 18th Birthday, Jason helped you get your driver's license, even bought you your own bike.

You had changed your name back to your mother's last name. You no longer wanted to be associated with the Waynes.

You had drifted away, and you knew they would never drag you back.

================================================

a/n: look, I may be on the Bruce is a Good Parent train, but that doesn't mean that I can't reflect my own trauma and the neglect I endured as a kid onto these silly characters.

Writing is how I cope, after all :)

Also, let me know if you would be interested in a series like this. It would be good writing experience.

#x reader #x trans male reader #headcanon #dc comics #batfam #bruce wayne #batman #damian al ghul #damian wayne #robin #dick grayson #nightwing #Jason Todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #celestials writing

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themissinghand · 12 days ago

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Genshin Impact Birds of a Feather, We Stick Together

Summary: In which you are the older sister of the Al-Twins, Alhaitham and Althar.

Or, your parents left you and your younger twin brothers to fend for yourselves, but that’s okay, you have each other.

Pairing: None! Platonic siblinghood

Note: Saw a fanart of Alhaitham and red Alhaitham…so here we are. Can I just say red Alhatiham is very very hot? Hence Althar = Red Alhaitham with the opposite personality of our stoic scribe and Alhaitham is just the green scribe we know and love.

Also, these are snippets!

Warning: Platonic yandere-ish in some parts. Abandonment, child neglect and just parents not being good parents.

★・・・・・・★

You were thirteen when your parents disappeared quickly, quietly, and irreversibly.

No one explained why.

No warning.

Just a postcard with their next travel location, a half-empty apartment with bare necessities, and two confused five-year-old boys looking at you with eyes too wide, too trusting.

From that moment on, you stopped being a child.

You dropped school. Lost friends. Set aside your own dreams.

All for the sake of the two boys who still waited by the door each evening, hoping their parents might return.

They never did.

But you always did.

Alhaitham and Althar, your twin little adorable angels.

You’ll do anything for them.

(You were 14 years old then, but it no longer mattered)

1. Let them be children

You remember the weight of their arms, the way they’d race toward you like you were the sun and they’d been stuck in shadow all day.

“Come here, you two,” you’d sigh with a tired smile, dropping your bags at the door as little arms wrapped tight around your waist.

Alhaitham never said much, he never needed to. He'd just lean in, face buried against your shoulder, silent as stone but warm like coals.

Althar, though? He was a chatterbox from the start.

“There was this bird that got stuck in the window at school,” he'd babble into your neck. “And I helped it, and then Haitham told me not to touch it but I did anyway—”

And you? You just held them, burying your face into their hair, exhaustion melting in the comfort of their small, trusting presence.

2. Let them sleep peacefully

It was late. You’d just gotten off your second shift, and the apartment was finally quiet.

You peeked into their room.

“Bedtime,” you murmured.

Alhaitham didn’t even glance up from his book, but you saw the way his thumb paused mid-page. He’d heard you.

Althar rolled onto his back, your old phone falling onto his chest.

“You know we’re not kids anymore, right?”

You huffed, walking over to smooth down his ridiculous mop of red-streaked hair.

”You’re seven.”

You tucked them in, fluffing their blankets, brushing hair from their faces.

“Goodnight, you two.”

Alhaitham gave a soft, “Mn,” barely audible.

Althar yawned.

“Good night sister!”

You kissed their foreheads.

Still your boys.

Always.

What you didn’t know, was when you turned off the lights, the boys would sneakily open the door, and through the cracks, they would see you doing chores, and doing bills.

The twins made an oath then, to make sure that when they grow up, no one can hurt you again.

Even if your parents came back begging.

3. Let them see hope

You were sitting at the chipped kitchen table, the one you found off a curb three years ago, staring at bills that seemed to multiply like fungus. Your tea has gone cold.

“Two down. One to go,” you muttered, not even noticing the footsteps.

Althar dropped his backpack and came to lean over your chair, resting his chin lightly on your head.

“Sister. You’ve been at this since morning, huh?”

You hummed, leaning back slightly into the comfort.

“Someone’s gotta pay for your endless snack runs.”

He gave your shoulders a soft squeeze, but didn’t joke back.

Alhaitham stood by the doorway, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

“You shouldn’t be working three jobs.”

“Don't worry about it. As long as it pays bills, a roof over our head and food in the fridge,” you replied, with forced levity.

Althar frowned.

“Not forever. Once we’re older… we’ll take over. You’ve done more than enough.”

You laugh and ruffled their hairs, getting a pouty face from Althar.

“Until then, make sure you do well in school. But let me know if you have any troubles.”

The twins looked at each other, and then back to you and nodded.

You can only hope that they at least have a stable future.

They were in middle school now and from what you’ve heard from the teachers? Nothing but praises.

Alhaitham being the top of his class and Althar can compete competitively in school sports.

You have never been more proud.

More of a reason for you to keep working and making sure that you three stay afloat.

4. Let them grow up without any worries

As they grew into high schoolers, the hugs faded.

Alhaitham stopped reaching for you. Althar replaced embraces with casual jostling and shoulder nudges.

You understood, even if it stung a little.

Then one night, after a brutal sixteen-hour day, you came home and leaned against the counter.

You didn’t even hear him until his arms wrapped around you from behind.

“Take a break already,” Althar whispered, his breath tickling your ear.

Before you could respond, you felt another weight, a second presence. Alhaitham, standing in front of you, carefully pulling you into his arms.

You felt like a cocoon in their hug.

Even so, you didn’t say anything. Just be.

“We’ll take care of dinner.” Alhaitham said and then Althar rolled his eyes.

“Fine, I’ll do the dishes.” You chuckle as Althar throws jabs at his twin, but honestly? You’re happy that most of the chores are being done by the twins now.

Alhaitham can cook, but Althar? Althar can’t be trusted near any fire.

You watched them bicker with a tired smile. You just noticed but...they're getting really tall, and you know they're gonna be way taller than you one day.

You can't wait for that day to come. Maybe then, you can finally relax.

5. Let you breathe

It doesn’t happen often.

But sometimes, on the worst days, when your hands trembled from fatigue and your eyes burned from sleeplessness, you’d feel arms around you.

No words.

Just Alhaitham, anchoring you in his silence.

Then Althar, sliding in on the other side with a warm, grounding presence.

“It’s okay,” Althar would whisper. “We’ve got you now.”

And maybe they did.

They both got part-jobs, and can pitch in money to pay off bills. But you always advise them to save up for university instead, since you can still pay the bills.

They begrudgingly agree, though, they did buy things that you may have eyed for a bit too long, but couldn’t bring up the courage to buy.

Those shoes you put back after trying them out, the jacket you always wanted, and the chocolates you always liked.

When you tell them it was unnecessary?

“You buy things for us. So it’s our turn now.”

When you saw the twins nod proudly, you knew you couldn’t tell them otherwise.

“Thank you.”

You silently wiped a tear away.

6. Let them protect you

It was a Tuesday.

A coworker had been getting bold, comments, lingering touches, that oily grin.

You’d planned to brush it off again. You always did.

Until a shadow fell over the conversation. You looked up and froze.

Alhaitham. Calm. Cold. Dangerous.

“Is there a problem?” he asked, voice low and even. But his eyes? Razor-sharp.

The man faltered, clearly unnerved. Before he could excuse himself, Althar appeared on the other side, smile gone.

“She’s not your business,” Althar said, hand resting lightly on the man’s shoulder.

The guy left. Fast.

You stood there, stunned.

When did they grow up so fast?

They weren’t boys anymore.

They were men, and they were your brothers.

You laugh, much to their annoyance.

“Aw, are you two of my bodyguards now?”

“Sis! Why didn’t you tell us you had ugly guys after you!”

You flicked Althar’s forehead while Alhaitham kept looking around as if looking out for the team.

“Thank you.”

They hmphed and then stayed by your side the entire time.

Your colleague would later say, your twin brothers were like your guard dogs, and you would laugh, because you knew it was true.

7. Please stay dear sister!

It started with an innocent suggestion.

"You’ve raised them for so long," your best friend said over coffee during a break.

"But maybe it’s time you started thinking about yourself. They’re grown men now."

That thought lingered.

Alhaitham and Althar had just graduated university, landed good jobs, and were finally stable. For the first time in over a decade, the future looked different.

You’d spent your youth keeping your little brothers alive and happy, giving up your education, working yourself into exhaustion, making sure they never felt abandoned again.

Maybe it was time for something of your own.

That night over dinner, you tried to sound casual.

"Now that you both are doing well," you said, picking at your food,

"I’ve been thinking we could maybe live separately. I mean, you’re adults. And I think I want to try living on my own for once."

Silence.

Alhaitham’s fork paused mid-air. Althar, more reactive, snapped his gaze to yours.

"Why?" Althar asked, too quickly. "We’re fine as we are. If you need more space, we can just buy a bigger place."

You blinked. Well, you three did just that and actually managed to afford and move in to a new house. But still, living together.

"There’s no reason to make a drastic change," Alhaitham added. His tone was level, but his voice had that firm edge you rarely heard unless he was serious.

"You’ve spent your whole life taking care of us. Let us take care of you now."

Your heart squeezed, but you pushed on.

"It’s not about money. Or space. I just... I’ve never done anything for myself before. I want to try this."

Althar’s smile vanished entirely. Alhaitham’s eyes sharpened, steel behind calm.

"I think we’re fine just the way we are.” Althar nodded furiously.

“Please~ We can’t live without you!”

When the twins used their puppy eyes on you, even when their adults, you could only sigh.

Fine, maybe you're overthinking it, besides, you did like leaving with the twins as they help with chores.

Besides, rent is expensive these days...

You tried to pretend everything was fine. Routine held the household together, at least outwardly. But the shift was there.

They were always around now. One of them, sometimes both, hovering.

Althar’s arm would wrap around your shoulder while you worked, head leaning against yours.

"You’ve been at it too long. Come relax."

Alhaitham would slide a cup of calming tea onto your desk without a word, a book you once mentioned tucked under it.

The hugs grew more frequent. Tighter. Lingering.

Gifts began to show up. Althar's were flashy and fun: perfume, trinkets, brightly wrapped boxes with "just because" notes. Alhaitham’s were quieter, thoughtful things. A pen engraved with your initials. A silk bookmark.

They competed, in a quiet, implicit way.

Games. Meals. Philosophical debates. Alhaitham cooking with you, Althar pulling you out for a movie.

It wasn’t subtle. They were trying to sway you. To remind you how much they adored you. To make you second guess.

And gods, it was working.

Fine.

Your best friend says you're too soft, but if you ever wanted to go over to her place, she's always open.

You're estatic of course, and your twins? They also were pretty happy with the arrangement, even making sure that when you planned to return home after Girl's Night, that the house was nice and clean.

This...was nice.

8. Stay Away from our Dear Sister!

Then, you received a call out of nowhere.

The number was unfamiliar.

"Hello?"

"Oh my god, is it really you, my daughter?”

You knew that voice. You hadn’t heard it in over ten years, but your body remembered.

"Yes," you said, slowly.

"What do you want?"

Your mother hesitated.

"We’ve... heard how well you and the boys are doing and we’re proud of you."

Your stomach turned.

"Why now?"

"We... just wanted to see you again.”

You paused, questions popping into your head. Shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath, you answered.

"Fine," you said, barely recognizing your voice. "Let’s meet."

Then you hung up forcefully, feeling tears threatening to spill.

No. Stay strong. Everything is going to be fine.

Now you just have to convince your twins.

"They need money," Alhaitham said flatly, arms crossed.

"Why else would they call now after so many years?"

Althar slammed his fist against the table.

"Seriously? Now they show up?"

"I want to meet them," you said. "Not for them, for me. Just once. Then we can be done."

Alhaitham’s gaze pierced into yours. After a long silence, he nodded.

"One meeting." Althar grumbled.

"I’m not promising to be nice."

"I’m not asking you to be," you replied.

"Just be there."

The twins looked at each other before nodding, and instantly, Althar wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

“Let’s get a wardrobe change!” Suddenly, the boys took you out, and all three of you got some fancy new outfits.

According to Althar, “we can’t look shabby, can we?”

“Not in front of them.” Alhaitham responded coldly, before paying for the whole thing with a card swipe.

You let them be, besides, they look good, as usual.

When you three posed in front of a mirror, you grinned.

Whatever happens, you know you three can push through it. Together.

The restaurant was too nice. Gilded edges, velvet chairs. A stage.

Your parents were already there, dressed like they’d stepped out of a photoshoot.

"My children!" your mother said, rising with a rehearsed smile, but you saw the initial surprise on her face when she saw the branded outfits.

"It’s so good to see you."

Althar didn’t smile, in fact he said almost sarcastically. Alhaitham gave a nod. You forced one.

The conversation was awkward. Polite small talk masking the tension. Your parents tried to play the role of a long-lost family. They cooed over how tall the twins had gotten, how proud they were.

Then your father finally brought it up.

"So...we’ve hit some hard times. I heard you three are all successful, so if you can just give something small to help us get back on our feet. We really appreciate it."

Silence.

“How much?” Alhaitham crossed his arms, and your father returned a gentle smile.

“10 thousand dollars.”

Alhaitham looked at you. Althar scowled, and you’re fake smile completely vanished.

"So you did come for money," Althar said, voice sharp.

Your mother fidgeted.

"We’ve made mistakes. But we’re still your family."

"No," Alhaitham said quietly. "She is our family."

You breathed out.

"This was a mistake."

You stood. So did your brothers.

"Wait! You can't just abandon us!"

How dare they-

"Ha! You abandoned us first!" Althar screamed back.

"What, now we have some money, and you crawl back like some leech?"

"Althar! You can't speak to your parents-"

"Enough." Alhaitham yelled, making everyone stop and look at him.

"Don't embarrass yourself any more." Your parents shuddered when Alhaitham gave them a death glare.

"This will be our last meeting, don't look for us again or we will call the police."

Your parents tried to get you to stay, but you stormed out with your twins behind you.

You didn’t look back.

Later that night, Althar wrapped an arm around your shoulders while Alhaitham passed you a cup of tea. All three of you sat on the couch, processing the dinner and them.

"You did what you had to," Alhaitham said simply.

"They don’t deserve you," Althar muttered.

You leaned into both of them, heart aching but lightened.

“You two deserve better.” Alhaitham and Althar just hugged you and you hugged back.

This is home.

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andromeda-pleiades · 3 months ago

Text

Just Trust Me

WORD COUNT: 1,028

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

I've written the second part, but I want to break this into 3 parts. So the second will come out at night or tomorrow.

Part 1 | Part - 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Maybe you shouldn’t have dated Simon.

Lord knows he isn’t the most stable man. Between the night terrors and the need for constant reassurance that you love him, he was the poster child for red flags. But red flags are easier to ignore when they’re wrapped in soft smiles and strong arms, aren’t they?

So, it comes as no surprise when you notice an app you don’t recognize on your phone.

It sits there innocently enough, nestled between your email and social media apps, but you’ve never seen it before. The icon—a blank, generic symbol—seems deliberately nondescript, almost as if it’s trying too hard not to stand out.

Your thumb hovers over the screen.

The moment you tap it, a prompt appears: Enter Password.

Your stomach twists.

Jesus Christ, Simon. What do you think I’m doing?

You don’t need to be a tech expert to figure it out: the app is meant to spy on you. What it’s monitoring—your location, your texts, your app history—is the only mystery.

Deleting it would be the logical move, but that’s not an option. Simon would notice. He notices everything. And you know he could win an Olympic gold medal in jumping to conclusions.

So, what to do?

You close the app and lock your phone, your heart pounding. Maybe you’re being paranoid. Maybe it’s just a weird app you forgot you downloaded. Or maybe Simon has taken his possessiveness to a new level.

You decide to get out of the house.

The local sandwich shop isn’t much—a fluorescent-lit counter, a couple of mismatched tables—but it’s familiar, and more importantly, it’s public. Simon hates crowded places; the noise and chaos set him on edge. This is one of the few spots you feel like you can breathe.

You’re halfway through your order when someone taps your shoulder.

“Hey, long time no see.”

You turn to find Kyle. His easy smile and warm eyes are a stark contrast to Simon’s calculated demeanor. Kyle was a friend from years ago—before Simon, before everything. You’d lost touch, but here he is, as if no time has passed.

“Kyle? Wow, it’s been ages,” you say, surprised at how natural it feels to smile back.

“You look great,” he says, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “How’ve you been?”

You chat for a few minutes, the kind of light, easy conversation you’ve forgotten you’re capable of having. It’s a rare moment of normalcy—until Kyle glances at his watch.

“I’d love to catch up more, but I’ve got to run. Let’s not make this the last time we bump into each other, okay?”

“Sure,” you say, though the odds of reconnecting feel slim.

Kyle gives you a quick hug, his hand lingering lightly on your back, then heads for the door.

You smile to yourself, picking up your tray, when it hits you—your phone and wallet are gone.

Your heart drops. Frantically, you pat your pockets, rummage through your bag, even check under the table. Nothing.

Panic tightens your chest. Did I drop them? Did someone take them?

A man wirh the most ridiculous haircut brushes past you on his way out. You lock onto him, suspicion flaring, but he’s already gone.

Kyle’s gone. The phone’s gone.

The app. You didn’t delete it. You couldn't. That stupid app, the one Simon uses to track you—how much did he see? Was he checking on you now? Was it only a matter of time before you realized it was gone too?

And now, with your phone gone, you have no way of knowing what Simon might already know. No way of tracking where your phone is. No way of knowing if Simon has access to everything you’ve done. You clench your fists.

You need to get it back.

You stand frozen for a moment in the middle of the sandwich shop, still processing the absence of your phone and wallet. You glance at the door, trying to make sense of what just happened. Kyle is long gone, slipping out into the busy street, leaving you standing there, uncertain of what to do next.

A feeling of panic gnaws at you, but you push it down, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. It’s just a phone. You’ll find it, or you’ll figure something else out.

But when you check your wallet again, your heart sinks. It’s the second thing gone.

Your fingers tremble as you gather your things, scanning the floor one more time, but it’s no use. Your things are gone, and there's no point in standing here any longer. The unease creeps back in. What now?

You step out of the sandwich shop, pulling your coat tighter around you. The cold air does little to calm your nerves.

You don’t bother checking your watch or asking around. The last thing you need is attention right now. Instead, you slip your hand into your bag, fingers brushing the empty spot where your phone should be. Panic rises again.

Just as you’re about to walk down the street, hoping to retrace your steps, the sound of a car engine pulls you from your thoughts.

Simon’s car rolls up beside you, the headlights cutting through the dusk. The car slows as he rolls down the window.

"You alright?" he asks, his voice steady, though there’s something about it that feels too calm, too neutral.

You glance at the car, his face hard to read in the dim light. How did he know to come get me?

"Yeah," you manage to say, forcing a smile. "Just... was gonna walk."

He doesn’t press, just gives a small nod, the car idling in front of you.

“Get in,” he says. His tone is casual, but you catch that sharpness in his voice, the one that makes you hesitate for a split second before getting in.

You slide into the passenger seat, the warmth of the car a stark contrast to the cold air outside. Simon doesn’t say anything else, and neither do you. The silence feels heavy as you pull away, but your mind keeps circling back to one question: How did he know?

#call of duty #call of duty mw2 #cod #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #ghost #simon riley x reader #andromeda pleiades

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passengerprincessblog · 6 months ago

Text

“Breaking Point” Pt. 2 Lewis Hamilton x reader

Warnings?: angst, jealousy, NSFW, brat kink? Idk

Summary: After a tense argument at the circuit, Y/N leaves without telling Lewis, retreating to the hotel to gather her thoughts. But as she settles in, a late-night call from Lando stirs the pot even further, igniting Lewis’s jealousy when he returns.

WC: 3,000?

Part 1 is here

The hotel room is quiet, the silence heavy and almost suffocating. I pace the length of the room, my mind still racing from everything that happened at the circuit. I couldn’t believe he had the audacity to act like that, to throw Lando into our argument just because he didn’t want to face the real issue. It was so petty, so unlike him, and it hurt.

But then again, maybe I shouldn’t have left without telling him. I can already imagine his reaction when he finally realizes I’m gone. But honestly, after the way he brushed me off, I couldn’t stand to stay there any longer.

As I sink onto the bed, my phone buzzes, and I see Jude’s name flash on the screen. I take a deep breath before answering, bracing myself for his no-nonsense tone.

“Hey, Jude,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Y/N,” he replies, his voice clipped and businesslike. “Just wanted to confirm the details for your shoot in LA. You’ll be flying out on Tuesday morning, so clear your schedule for the next month. We’ll need you on set every day, so no personal distractions, alright?”

I swallow, the weight of his words settling over me. “Got it.”

“Good,” he continues, barely pausing for breath. “Now, I’ve sent over the call sheets, locations, and everything else you need to know. Check your email and let me know if you have questions. I don’t want any surprises on set.”

“Right,” I mumble, feeling a flicker of frustration. Jude has always been the type to micromanage every detail, and right now, his stern tone grates on my already frayed nerves.

After a few more instructions, he finally hangs up, leaving me alone with my thoughts once again. I set my phone down, trying to push away the nagging guilt creeping into my chest. I shouldn’t feel guilty, I remind myself. I have every right to take this role, to make decisions about my own career.

My phone lights up again. This time, it’s a text from Lewis.

Lewis: “You left?”

I stare at the message, my fingers hovering over the screen. I know he’s upset, but right now, I don’t feel like giving him the satisfaction of an immediate reply. Another text pops up.

Lewis: “So you just walked out without saying anything? Real mature, Y/N.”

I clench my jaw, feeling a spark of anger reignite. He was the one who acted like a child back there, throwing accusations and refusing to see my side of things. I toss my phone onto the bed, deciding not to reply. If he wants to act like this, then let him stew.

It’s nearly 11 p.m. when I hear the faint sound of the door opening, followed by Lewis’s footsteps as he enters the hotel room. I keep my gaze fixed on the window, refusing to turn around and acknowledge him. The tension in the room is immediate, thick and heavy, and I can feel his eyes on me, practically burning a hole in my back.

“Are you going to ignore me all night?” His voice is clipped, a sharp edge to his words that only fuels my annoyance.

“Maybe,” I reply coolly, still refusing to look at him.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, and I hear him drop his bag onto the floor with a thud. “So you just left? Without even bothering to tell me?”

I finally turn to face him, crossing my arms over my chest. “I didn’t think you’d care. You seemed pretty done with me back there.”

“That’s not the point, Y/N,” he says, stepping closer, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t just walk out without saying anything. Especially not when we’re in the middle of something.”

I raise an eyebrow, feeling the anger simmering beneath my skin. “Oh, so now you care about my whereabouts? Funny, because back there, you didn’t seem to care about anything but throwing Lando in my face.”

His jaw tightens, and I can see the flash of irritation in his eyes. “Don’t turn this around on me. You’re the one who just decided to take on a huge role without even talking to me about it.”

I roll my eyes, feeling a surge of defiance rise up. “Lewis, it’s my career. I don’t need your permission to make decisions.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms as he stares me down. “It’s not about permission. It’s about respect. We’re supposed to be a team, Y/N. You could’ve at least let me know before deciding to miss four races.”

I throw my hands up, exasperated. “We’re not married, Lewis! I don’t have to consult you about every little thing in my life!”

He flinches, and I see the hurt flash across his face before he covers it with a cold expression. “I see. So that’s how you see this? As something casual?”

“Sometimes, yeah,” I snap, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “It feels like this relationship is just… too much sometimes. Like you expect me to drop everything for you.”

He stares at me, his face hardening, and I can feel the anger radiating off him. “Too much? You think I’m asking for too much just because I want you to consider my feelings?”

I roll my eyes, a smirk tugging at my lips as I let out a sarcastic laugh. “You’re acting like I committed a crime just because I want to follow my dreams. Newsflash, Lewis, the world doesn’t revolve around you.”

His eyes darken, and for a split second, I see something shift in him. Before I can react, he closes the distance between us, his hands gripping my arms firmly as he pushes me back onto the bed. I gasp, more out of surprise than anything, my heart racing as I look up at him as he gets on top of me.

His gaze is intense, a mixture of anger and something else, something I can’t quite place. His hands still grip my arms, his face close to mine, his breath warm against my skin. “You think this is a joke, Y/N?” he murmurs, his voice low, dangerous.

I meet his gaze, refusing to back down. “Maybe… maybe you’re the one who can’t handle it.”

A flicker of something crosses his face—frustration, irritation, maybe even a hint of desire. He leans in closer, his grip on me tightening just slightly, his gaze locked onto mine. I can feel the heat radiating off him, the tension between us thick and electric.

“You drive me insane,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” I reply, a smirk tugging at my lips. “Maybe now you know how I feel.”

For a moment, we just stare at each other, the anger and frustration swirling between us, mixing with something deeper, something more primal. His gaze drops to my lips, and I feel my heart hammering in my chest, a rush of anticipation mingling with the resentment I still feel.

His hand moves from my arm to my neck, gently squeezing, his gaze intense and unrelenting. “Is this what you wanted, Y/N? To push me until I snap?”

I bite my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. But my silence only seems to fuel him more, his face inches from mine.

“Say something,” he demands, his voice low and commanding.

But instead of a response, I let out a soft laugh, daring him with my gaze. “What, can’t handle a little attitude?”

A dark smirk crosses his face, and for a brief moment, I see the flash of something almost… greedy in his eyes.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl.

“Maybe I do,” I reply, my voice barely a whisper, my heart pounding in my chest.

The tension between us is palpable, the line between anger and desire blurring, and I can feel the intensity radiating off him, his frustration and passion mingling into one. For a brief moment, we’re caught in a standoff, neither of us willing to back down, and I know that we’re both teetering on the edge, unsure of what will happen next.

He inhales sharply, his nostrils flaring, and for a moment, I think he might actually snap. But instead, he closes the distance between us, his lips crashing against mine in a bruising kiss. I gasp, surprised by the force of it, but I don't pull away. Instead, I find myself kissing him back just as fiercely, our teeth clashing, our tongues tangling in a desperate, angry dance.

His hands roam over my body, gripping, kneading, as if he's trying to remind himself I’m his. I can feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the hard planes of his muscles flexing beneath my touch. He tears at my clothes, pulling my dress off, until I'm left in nothing but my underwear.

I reach for him, my hands fumbling with his belt, desperate to feel him, to touch him, to have him inside me. He groans, low and guttural, as I grab him through his jeans. I can feel how hard he is, how much he wants me, and it only fuels my own desire.

He inhales sharply, his hips bucking into my touch. "Brat," he mutters, but there's no real anger behind it anymore, just a simmering heat, a desperate need.

I lean in, trailing kisses along his jaw, down his neck, my tongue darting out to taste his skin. He shivers, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me against him. I can feel his hardness pressing against me, and it makes me ache with want.

But then, the shrill ring of my phone cuts through the heated silence, startling both of us. I feel him tense against me, and he lets out an annoyed growl, pulling back slightly, his gaze narrowing as he looks down at me, his breathing ragged.

“Who the hell is calling you at this hour?” he mutters, his voice dripping with irritation.

I’m just as annoyed as he is, but before I can even reach for my phone, he snatches it up from the nightstand, his eyes flashing as he glances at the screen. His jaw clenches, and a dark look crosses his face as he turns the screen toward me, his expression a mix of anger and disbelief.

“Lando?” he says, his voice laced with accusation. “Why is he calling you? What the hell does he want?”

I blink, my mind struggling to catch up as I stare at the name flashing on the screen. “I… I don’t know,” I stammer, feeling my heart sink. I honestly have no idea why Lando would be calling me, but I can already feel Lewis’s jealousy simmering, his grip on my phone tightening.

He lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he glares down at me. “Really, Y/N? You’re telling me you have no idea why he’s calling you at eleven at night?”

I sit up, trying to take my phone from him, but he holds it just out of reach. “Lewis, come on. It’s probably nothing. Lando’s always trying to rally people to go out after a race. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” he repeats, his voice dangerously low. “Why does he even have your number, let alone feel comfortable enough to call you at this time? Do you have any idea how this looks?”

I feel a flash of frustration, the anger from earlier bubbling back up. “Are you seriously doing this right now? It’s Lando. He’s just a friend, Lewis.”

He scoffs, his grip on my phone unyielding as he stares down at me, his eyes hard. “A friend who clearly has no boundaries. Or maybe you’re the one who doesn’t.”

My mouth falls open in shock, and I feel a sting of hurt at his accusation. “Excuse me? You’re the one who’s being unreasonable here. I haven’t done anything to make you doubt me.”

“Then why didn’t you tell him to stop calling and texting you?” he snaps, his voice rising.

“Because it’s not an issue! You’re making it one,” I retort, the fire in my chest burning hotter as I meet his gaze. “If you’re so insecure about my friendship with Lando, that’s on you, not me.”

His eyes flash, and for a moment, I see a hint of vulnerability, quickly masked by anger. “Insecure? I’m not insecure, Y/N. I just don’t appreciate my girlfriend getting late-night calls from other guys, especially not ones who I’m pretty sure are interested in more than just ‘friendship.’”

I let out an exasperated sigh, trying to pull my phone from his grasp, but he holds it firm. “Lewis, it’s not like that. And if you trusted me, you’d know that.”

He stares at me, his gaze sharp, calculating.

Then, slowly, he holds the phone out, his expression unreadable. "Fine. Answer it, then. Let's see what he wants.

I glance between him and the phone, my heart pounding as I reluctantly take it from his hand. My fingers are shaking a bit, and I press the screen to answer, bringing it up to my ear.

"Hello?" I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

But before I can get another word out, I feel Lewis's hands on me again, his fingers gripping my waist as he leans down, his lips finding my neck. I gasp, my words faltering as he presses soft, heated kisses along the sensitive skin just below my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

"YIN? You there?" Lando's voice crackles through the phone, cheerful and oblivious. I can barely concentrate, Lewis's lips warm against my skin, his hands trailing up and down my sides, pulling me closer.

"Uh... yeah, I'm here," I manage to say, my voice coming out breathy, almost shaky.

"What's up?"

"Just wanted to see if you were up for going out tonight," Lando replies, his tone light. "A bunch of us are heading to a bar nearby.

Figured I'd check if you wanted to join."

Lewis's mouth trails down my neck, his lips grazing my collarbone, and I struggle to keep my composure, biting my lip to stifle a soft gasp. He's doing this on purpose, I realize, trying to keep me distracted, knowing full well what he's doing to me.

"Um... I don't think I can make it," I finally say, my voice wavering slightly as Lewis continues his assault on my neck, his teeth grazing my skin just enough to make my pulse race. "I... I think l'Il be staying in tonight."

"Oh, alright," Lando says, sounding a little disappointed. "Well, if you change your mind, just text me. We'll be out pretty late.”

I try to mumble a response, but Lewis presses his lips to a particularly sensitive spot on my neck, and I feel a shiver run through me, my fingers gripping his shoulders as I struggle to keep my balance.

"Yeah... okay," I manage, barely aware of what I'm saying.

I hear Lando say goodbye, and I quickly end the call, dropping the phone onto the bed as Lewis's hands tighten around my waist, pulling me flush against him. His gaze is intense, his eyes dark and filled with something primal, something possessive.

"Staying in tonight, huh?" he murmurs, a smirk playing on his lips as his fingers trace slow, teasing circles on my hips.

I let out a shaky breath, meeting his gaze with defiance. "What was that about?" I demand, though my voice betrays me, coming out softer than I intended.

He raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening as he pulls me even closer, his face mere inches from mine. "Just making sure you're focused on the right person," he murmurs, his voice low, sending a thrill down my spine.

I roll my eyes, though I can't hide the small smile tugging at my lips. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Maybe," he replies, his tone playful but with an edge of intensity. "But I don't like sharing."

And then he's on me again, his mouth trailing down my neck, his teeth nipping, his tongue soothing the sting. I arch into him, my nails raking down his back, leaving red lines in their wake. He hisses, the pain seeming to spur him on, his hands sliding beneath my thighs, pushing them apart, spreading me wide for him.

I can feel the heat of his gaze on my most intimate parts, and I squirm beneath him, suddenly self-conscious. I feel his hand slide under my thong, onto me. His fingers are there, stroking, teasing, and all thoughts of embarrassment fly out the window. He circles my clit with his thumb, his fingers dipping inside me, stretching me, filling me, and I cry out, my back arching off the bed.

"You're so fucking wet," he murmurs, his voice rough with arousal.

I nod, wordless, lost in the sensation of his touch, the way he's making me feel. I love being touched like this, with such hunger, such desperation, and it's intoxicating. I want more, I want everything he has to give me.

I moan, my head falling back against the pillow as he works me expertly, his touch rough and demanding. "Is this what you wanted, Y/N?" he growls, his fingers pumping in and out of me. "To be fucked like the brat you are?"

I bite my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a verbal response, but my body betrays me, my hips lifting to meet his hand, my walls clenching around his fingers. “Yes… please.” I whine.

His fingers slow their relentless pace, and I let out a frustrated moan. "Ah ah ah," he tuts, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "What was that, Y/N? I couldn't quite hear you over all that begging."

I flush, embarrassed and turned on in equal measure. "Please," I say again, louder this time, my voice cracking with need. "Please fuck me, Lewis. I want it… don’t tease me." I whine.

He rewards me with a particularly deep thrust, his fingers curling inside me and making me cry out. "Good girl," he praises, his voice low and approving. "Such a good little brat for me. Maybe if you're lucky, I'll give this bratty girl exactly what she’s begging for." He says lowly, promising something more intense after this.

He continues to work me over with his fingers, his thumb circling my clit in maddeningly slow strokes. My body is wound tight, teetering on the edge of release, but he keeps me there, denying me the satisfaction I crave.

"Lewis, please," I whine, tugging at his hair, my nails digging into his scalp. "I can't…Please let me…." I beg for permission.

He leans down, his lips brushing against my ear as he growls, "Cum for me, Y/N. Cum all over my fingers like the desperate little baby you are."

And with those filthy words, I shatter as I orgasm.

———————————————————

Note: part three is up! HERE

Hope you guys are liking it! If you are please like and follow so I can know to write more!

I’m new to writing stuff like this so 😅 sorry if it’s not perfect!

#f1 x you #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 fanfic #lewis hamilton smut

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dollzites · 3 months ago

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⏦ﾟ♡︎ “DANCE WITH ME IN THE RAIN”

୨ৎ pairing: boyfriend!jung haein x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff! the most fluffiest possible!

୨ৎ summary: your boyfriend finally had an entire week off instead of just a day or so here and there. spending the whole week with you was most important to him so he decided that a picnic would be the best way to start off the week! but.. he didn’t check the weather forecast.

୨ৎ from myeong: hi!! hello!! as you can see I’m so excited to take this request as a haein lover myself! he’s a precious soul and I hope you can enjoy this!! x

“be careful.” the sound of your boyfriends stern voice made you roll your eyes but in a loving and playful way of course. allowing half of your body to hang out of the open window his large hand gripped your thigh while the other kept tight on the steering wheel driving you both to the secret location he was excited to show you. free was the most perfect word for this moment. you’ve never felt so free and happy like this in your entire life so far. “come back in princess we’re just about there.”

opening the passenger door for you like the perfect gentleman that he was, a shocked gasp left your glossed over lips. being in the city was something you were used too and had grown tired of after so many years—seeing mountains, trees, never before seen flowers and plants was enough to make you emotional and the moment was going to be shared with your boyfriend jung haein. the most perfect man in your eyes. your arms wrapped around his body and you squeezed as tight as you could wanting him to feel the excitement running through your body. “thank you!” is all you said before reaching up on your tippy toes to place a few gentle kisses to his soft cheeks and lips. the sound of his light chuckles made your heart swell loving the sound each time you were able to hear them. you swung one of the bags that was packed and brought for this exciting adventure over your shoulder and ran towards the water, eyes widening when seeing your own reflection. “look at this!! I can see my own reflection isn’t that so cool? come here old man! hurry” you pointed like a child would and looked up at haein once he finally made it over to you. his lips curled up into a sweet smile—the smile that made you fall for him. the smile that made you feel like a teenager in love. the smile that made you want a future with him.

“let’s take a picture, hm?” you nodded your head quickly and stood close to him while he brought out his phone and zoomed in just a little to get the perfect picture of you both. strong arm wrapping around your waist keeping you close to him while he took a few photos—changing the pose each time. “look at me.” and just as you turned your head to look up at him he pressed his soft lips against your own and took the photo. you’d been with him for only two years now but it felt like an eternity. an eternity of happiness and gentle love that you had prayed for over and over again.

“look at all these snacks we have! I waited hours for this.. because a certain meanie wouldn’t let me have any on the way here or sneak a peek!” a cute but fake pout formed on your lips while you crossed your arms against your chest. haein could only laugh at how ridiculous but cute you looked and he reached over to grab ahold of your waist pulling you closer to him, sitting you on his lap while he reached for a chocolate covered strawberry. “say ahhh.” and you instantly parted your lips so he could feed you the strawberry. taking a decent bite before he pulled the rest away and popped it in his mouth. quietly chewing and looking out towards the beautiful view of the large mountains this was one of the most romantic things you’ve done with him in the two years of your relationship.

“remember when we first met at the cafè near the park in seoul and you tripped and fell right in front of me? your pretty face went right into the cupcake I was so excited to eat. that was a cheat day as well! you ruined it.” haein teased you which made you turn in his lap to playfully slap at his chest. “I apologized and offered to buy you a new one but you declined! such a loser..” a groan left your lips as your back fell against his broad chest, a deep breath leaving you while your eyes shut trying to enjoy the sound of his light breathing, the fresh crisp and clean air that made you feel so alive, and sound of the birds chirping. “this is all so perfect. thank you so much for taking me here. I.. I love you hae. I can’t wait to experience much more with you in this lifetime.” it was the first time you had said anything so affectionate to him and it felt genuine. the time was right and you had hoped he felt the same but nerves started to form in your stomach when he remained silent and as you turned to look at him—he was already looking at you with a sweet smile on his lips.

“you should already knew how much I love you, angel. it’s been that way for a while now. the moment we met i felt something so strong for you that I’ve never felt before. sure I was.. hesitant about those feelings but I’m so happy I acted on them when I did.” haein’s large hand reached up to pinch at your cheek in a playful manner before letting his thumb slide across your bottom lip pulling at it. “you’re perfect.” he whispered before kissing you. instantly kissing him back and bringing your hands up to cup his cheeks when a warm and wet drop to the top of your head startled you, pulling away from him. his eyebrows furrowed and you couldn’t help but to giggle from how cute he looked, “umm..” is all you said before looking up seeing the dark clouds surrounding you both. “oh shit.” he cursed before hurrying to cover the snacks he packed for the picnic. a few more warm drops hit your skin before the downpour began which left the both of your screaming and running to the nearest shop that was thankfully near the river where you both were having the picnic.

“why didn’t you check the weather! our picnic..” although it was upsetting the smell of rain filled your nostrils and it was one of the best smells to ever exist. “It looks like a pop up storm. nothing too serious and it should last long.” he started but looked your way with another smile on his lips, “dance with me in the rain.”

your eyes widened as you turned to look at him. dance? in the rain?! what couples always did in movies?! no way he asked such a thing but you found yourself slowly nodding your head words unable to form at this point. his hand grabbed ahold of your own and pulled you away from the shop and into the pouring rain. it left your breathless and after a few gasps you looked up at him, “are we really doing this?!” you yelled and he nodded letting his arm wrap around your waist while the other grabbed ahold of your hand—moving his body with your own in a very arrhythmic manner. were people watching? did you both look like idiots? those questions left your mind and all you could see and think about is the man in front of you who was drenched from the rain and still looked so incredibly handsome.

haein twirled you a few times pulling you right back into his chest and pressing a few kisses to your face and lips loving the way you would giggle or try to cover your flustered face. “stop doing that, yeah? let me see how cute you are just like this..” and his forehead was placed against your own wet one. his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss which only made you feel more flustered, these types of things was only in movies!! not in real life yet here you were with him doing all the things you thought were impossible.

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thirstydemisexual · 8 months ago

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Blood path || Jason Todd x vampire!reader

Prologue

divider by: @sister-lucifer

PSA: the povs will switch from second to third person as convenient. also I'm writing this as I go so yeah the pacing between the parts hopefully will be coherent

warnings: 18+ content, mention of r4pe, blood, a p3do getting what the fuck he deserves, (and bad grammar)

I've made mistakes, Lord struck me down Caught in a landslide, lost underground I hear them gates, swing open loud Come close to midnight, hell fade me down - Used To The Darkness by Des Rocs

The night was young. As the last shades of orange had just dissipated in the sky, Gotham prepared itself as their usual over abundance of criminals took to the streets. Some of them tho, were busy browsing on the internet, unlucky them.

Phil, 38, child predator who escaped Arkham a couple weeks prior, sneaking away as the Bat and the other heroes took care of the bigger fishes, was browsing on the dark web, looking on his phone at his favorite source of inappropriate child videos with a fist down his pants.

The abandoned building in which he resided, which was once an apartment complex before a villain attack, was located in a rather well populated zone of Gotham. Only two streets down from The Wayne foundation preschool.

Unlucky for him, his connection wasn't the most secure. Even a high schooler with basic computer science knowledge would have been able to dox him.

The dumb fuck didn't even try locking the door, not like it had a functional lock to begin with. But non the less, she still wouldn't be stopped by a mere lock as that men's refuge wasn't his home, thus the threshold didn't bound her. She was able to sneak into the premises without as much as a sound.

She was hungry and her face was morphed into an inhuman shape.

He doesn't even have time to scream or fight as her fangs sinks in his neck, tearing his carotid artery. Long claws shredding up the skin on his forearms as he tries to reach to stop his attacker. He stops squirming in seconds as she feasts on his blood, draining him in mere moments.

After she's done she quickly leaves the building, ready to go home and wash her hands and mouth throughly as just the mere thought of having touched that individual, let alone feeding from him, in her post feeding shame(and because of than mans nature) made her regret her choice of feeding.

Although she would never regret ridding the world of scum like him.

It was a weirdly sunny day in Gotham, Jason Todd noticed as he turned off the engine of his motorcycle after parking in the Gotham University parking lot.

Last night patrol had took a tool on him, and he was more exhausted than normal. He threw his book bag on his shoulder before entering the building, toward his first class of the day.

Jason normally quite enjoyed his Modern Literature class, but today all he wanted to do was crush on his bed at his safe house and sleep away until patrol hour came.

He sat down in one of the last rows in the room and crossed his arms on the desk before laying his head down and closing his eyes, he couldn't wait for the day to be over.

"Slept bad?" a familiar voice came from his side. Jason lifted his head up, a little smile at the realization of who it was.

"You could say that" His eyes didn't leave you as you sat down next to him and started to get your stuff ready for class.

"You could have skipped class today Jay, you seem way too tired to be here"

"And miss the chance to have our daily banter, no way miss" he replied, smirk on his face. You couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Seriously Jay, you can't keep coming to class looking like a zombie"

well technically I am a living dead so its not that out of character for me, thought Jason but didn't voice it out to her.

"I'll take a nap between classes alright? Come on, don't act like you wouldn't miss me if I were to go back home"

"You're incorrigible Todd"

"I don't hear you denying my claim" he kept smirking at you, you shushed him as the professor started class.

"Just rest your eyes, I'll give you my notes later" he chuckled a bit as he put his head down on the desk again,

"You'd be a light saver sweetheart"

If you could blush, the nickname would have done it. You tried to stay concentrated but your gaze would often stray onto Jason's figure, slumped over the deck, neck slightly exposed.

Looking so appetizing

You mentally slap yourself as you divert your eyes. That is Jason, one of your only friends NOT a charcuterie board.

You took a deep breath and tried to calm down. You didn't know why but even after feeding the thought and sight of Jason Todd just riled you up, hunger rising through your undead body and plaguing your mind.

Hopefully you'll keep being able to control yourself around him.

You have to

TAG LIST: @deimks , @amber-content , @deans-spinster-witch , @that-one-goblin , @snowy-violet , @thenightwingnerd , @zffhahaa

Ask in the comments to be added to the taglist

#jason todd x vampire!reader #jason todd x vampire reader #jason todd x vigilante!reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd #batfamily x reader #batfam #dc x reader #college au #college au!jason todd

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kimberleyjean · 10 months ago

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Good Omens S2 Discontinuity Roundup

Hello Good Omens fans! Did you know the Good Omens team has put a lot of work into making “errors'' in the second season? Whether you were already aware, or just catching up, please take a look at the links below. Clicking any link will take you to one of the original posts that mentioned the discontinuity.

This post will continue to be updated and extended as new meta are published. Is there anything missing that you'd like to add? Reblogs, comments or messages are welcome!

Why are there so many discontinuities? Well, existing theories include different perspectives being shown, time-loops, separate timelines, a story told “out of order” and more! What's your opinion?

Discontinuities across multiple episodes:

Crowley’s sideburns.

Crowleys’ sunglasses.

The bookshop clock is frequently showing the “wrong” time (and other time inconsistencies).

The bookshop porch pillars/columns are sometimes clean, sometimes marked.

Randomly dusty streets (on a closed set no less!).

Street signage (Maggie’s and 1001 nights).

Almost every scene with visible extras, see here, here and here for examples.

Episode 1

There's TWO scrolls in Before the Beginning?

Gabriel’s/Jim’s entrance happens twice.

Crowley's conversation with Shax in the park shows him putting down the newspaper twice, and Shax's bag is all over the place.

Honolulu Roast sign.

Moving lamps inside GMCoGMD.

Disappearing eccles cakes.

Crowley's watch is set an hour ahead of his phone.

Episode 2

The lane where Crowley parks his Bentley varies between being wet and dry as well as the position it’s parked in, the colour grading, and the amount of dust on the Bentley windscreen! Also - the backdrop of the lane where Crowley parks the Bentley is impossible.

The amount of dust on Jim’s book changes in between cuts.

Job Minisode - varying wigs used for Bildad.

Episode 3

Muriel's arrival continues from a much earlier scene in E2 - see here and here.

Aziraphale parks in an unexplained location before going to the Resurrectionist pub, and also mysteriously loses his suitcase.

Resurrectionist Pub’s outdoor sign has two versions (no I don’t just mean the Jesus side!).

Bentley now 4-door (may be explained by the transformation sequence).

Awning of a new age, extras are discontinuous and standins for Nina and Maggie are visible.

Edinburgh Flashback - Crowley’s muttonchops change in size during the mausoleum scene.

Episode 4

Each time they are at the Windmill theatre, items in the background keep disappearing.

The polaroids (yes, two!) on screen are different sizes.

The polaroid itself is very confusing with Crowley’s weird arm.

The morse code in Hell is saying something slightly different to the loud speaker...

Episode 5

Nina and Maggie switch places? (Who knew they could teleport like that lol?)

High ranking demons are bottom of the barrel?

The “Surrender the angle” sign is thrown in twice?

A child randomly appears upon exit from the ball (approx 32:36).

Episode 6

Gabriel’s statue sometimes has a cross, sometimes not.

Crowley/David's stand-in is visible as Nina and Maggie leave.

French restaurant Fairy lights.

Final 15 clock shenanigans - why does the clock change from 9:25 to 9:40?

Are there two suns at the end of the episode?

These are the one's I've seen published so far and I'll keep adding to the list as more are published. In the meantime, if you spot anything missing from my list, please share the post about it :)

#good omens meta #good omens #good omens details #good omens continuity #good omens discontinuity #good omens clues #good omens season 2 #good omens analysis #good omens theory

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uceyliyahh · 1 month ago

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WRITTEN IN RED

summary: Tamaya tends to keep to herself, only opening up to her best friend. During a tumultuous time with her obsessive ex-boyfriend, Tre, who constantly disrupted her life and pulled her back in whenever it suited him, everything shifted when she unexpectedly crossed paths with Jey.

this fanfic is 18+ NO MINORS ALLOWED

warnings contain: depression, stalking, domestic violence, emotional abuse.

word count: 5.6k

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

smut warning: it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good a writing ✍🏽 smuts but I am improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Tamaya

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

again mdni you have been warned.

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @prettyfilmz @bookuce @bloodlineslut

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic @sheaabuttaababyy @formulafortyfour @theusotwinzcom

@charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi @xbriexx @luvrsluxe @celesteheartsjey @4milly @luuvprincess @yyaktayak @yana3sworld @theusotwinzcom @hoisucooll @sharmelasworld @shanthefemalerapper

𝔘𝔫𝔬

𝕺𝖒𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖙 🤍

Tamaya was engaged in a conversation at work with a parent regarding their child's weight and growth. She shared a chart that illustrated the child's progress over the months, reassuring the parent that they were doing a commendable job in monitoring their child's weight. Tamaya had a passion for working with children and valued the connections she built with parents, all to ensure that their little ones remained healthy.

Upon completing her nursing degree, she embarked on a journey to shape her life according to her own desires. However, it wasn't all smooth sailing; her tumultuous past with her obsessive ex-boyfriend, Tre, cast a shadow over her newfound independence. He would frequently appear at her apartment uninvited, intent on undermining her confidence, only to later manipulate her emotions in a way that left her feeling diminished.

Their relationship took a turn for the worse when he dove into his rap career and spent more time on the streets with his friends. As he became more immersed in that lifestyle, he grew increasingly possessive of her. He would check her phone to ensure she was being faithful, and whenever things didn’t go his way, he resorted to violence, only to quickly apologize afterward, revealing his manipulative nature.

She constantly pointed fingers at his friends, claiming they were the reason for his transformation and the shift in his behavior. After earning her degree, she reached a breaking point; she could no longer tolerate his nonsense. When she attempted to walk away for the first time, he broke down in tears, pleading with her to remain. She fell for his manipulation, only to find herself further hurt and emotionally scarred by his actions.

On the second occasion, he found her stealthily slipping out of the house in the dead of night, her bags in tow. He quickly grabbed her and pulled her back inside. Tamaya felt like giving in, but then she resolved to reach out to her best friend Sakshi for assistance whenever he was away.

After her best friend came to her aid, she successfully secured an apartment far from him, hoping he wouldn’t track her down. Unfortunately, she was mistaken; one of his friends discovered her location and informed Tre about it later.

She vividly remembered lying in a hospital bed, her rib cage swathed in bandages, the rhythmic beeping of the monitors surrounding her. It was in that moment she understood that Tre had nearly taken her life during the brutal assault.

Tamaya vividly remembered the terrifying times when her best friend was in tears, consumed by worry for her. Tre's refusal to let her go pushed Tamaya to take action; she opted to file for a restraining order against him. With no one else to turn to, she made the choice to relocate to Atlanta alongside her best friend.

In the present moment, after finishing her conversation with the parent and assessing the child's vital signs, she informed the parent that the doctor would soon arrive to provide further information. The parents expressed their gratitude as she exited the room. Glancing at her Apple Watch, she realized it was time for her lunch break. She made her way to the lunchroom to retrieve her lunch bag from the refrigerator before clocking out for her break.

Tamaya assured Sakshi that they would get together for lunch, as Sakshi mentioned she had a surprise in store for her that evening, though she kept the details under wraps because of Tamaya's work commitments. With that in mind, Tamaya picked up her purse and car keys, making her way to the vehicle parked in front of the building.

She climbed into her car, setting her purse and lunch bag on the passenger seat. As she inserted the keys and started the engine, she buckled her seatbelt and drove off to her best friend's workplace.

Tamaya pulled up her car and parked right in front of the building where her best friend worked as a daycare worker. After switching off the engine, she picked up her lunch bag and made her way to the entrance. She knocked on the door and stood there patiently, eager for someone to let her in. While waiting, she took her phone from her pocket to check for any incoming messages. To her delight, she found a text from Tre waiting for her.

Regardless of how often she blocked him, he consistently returned to belittle her, hurling disrespectful remarks aimed at diminishing her spirit.

Tre💔 sent a message

Tre💔: you think just bc you moved to Atlanta doesn’t mean I don’t have my people down there watching you and giving me feed back? why did you have to leave me huh? when all I did was love you and helped you out playing your college classes this how you do me? Ungrateful bitch.

She had no choice but to leave him on read and move forward; there was nothing more she could do. Just then, the door swung open, drawing her gaze to her best friend, who stood there beaming. She rushed over and embraced her tightly.

“Heyyy bestie, c’mon girl before these kids escape this house.” Sakshi said.

Tamaya stepped into the house and noticed the children happily engaged in their own activities, while the babies peacefully napped on the opposite side of the room. She and Tamaya made their way to the kitchen, where they settled into a wooden chair. As they sat down, Tamaya began to unpack her lunch from the bag she had prepared earlier that morning.

As they sat down to enjoy their lunches, Sakshi started to speak. “How’s your day been Maya?” She asked.

“Same old, same old. Like usual girl how about you? Seems like these kids are well behaved.” Tamaya replied eating her chicken salad.

Sakshi scoffed at her while rolling her eyes in the process, “girl it’s because they be getting ass whooping’s at home from they people I don’t do all of that so that the parent can cuss me out.” Tamaya nodded her head listening to her best friend attentively.

“So what did you have planned for us tonight? Since you didn’t get the chance to tell me before I left.”

Sakshi aimed her fork at her plate, nearly forgetting the important details she needed to share with Tamaya about her plans for the evening.

“Thank you for reminding me girl I almost forgot due to these kids running round’ here like crazy but I was thinking we should head to the club tonight.” Tamaya's eyes grew wide upon learning that her best friend wanted to hit the club, especially considering how much of an introvert she was. She wasn't the kind of person who enjoyed being out in public, particularly with Tre's friends keeping an eye on her.

“I dont know about that Saki you know how I am about being out in the public.”

“Why? Because of Tre? Girl we live in ATL.”

“Yeah, but he has people here too Saki, look I’m just saying let’s just be careful tonight he’s already texting me some crazy shit.”

Sakshi nodded in agreement with her best friend, fully aware of the challenges Tamaya had faced since they relocated to Atlanta to escape Tre. Despite their efforts to start fresh, Tre remained a constant presence in their lives, monitoring everything around them. He was particularly vigilant about Tamaya, ensuring she didn’t form any “new friendships” while they settled into their new home, fully aware of his controlling nature.

“Girl, I know you don’t want hear this from me but. It’s time for you to find a new nigga and live your life.” Sakshi said.

“Saki, are you fucking insane? I can’t with Tre stalking me like a fucking lion.” She replied.

“Fuck that nigga Maya he has put you through hell and back especially putting you in the hospital wondering why we moved down here in the first place.”

Tamaya found it hard to listen to her best friend's advice, even though deep down she knew it was time to let go and embrace her own life. Fear gripped her, and anxiety began to seep in, making it even more difficult to move forward. The hurtful words he had thrown at her echoed in her mind: how she "wasn't good enough," how he had "shaped her into who she is," and how "no man would ever care about her career, only wanting her for physical pleasure."

The situation would plunge her into a deep depression for weeks. She already bore scars on her arms from past attempts to escape the pain he caused her. Yet, without her best friend by her side, she knows she wouldn’t have made it through to today.

“So what do you think? Heading to the club tonight to get turnt up or what?”

Tamaya laughed softly at her, nodding in agreement as she wrapped up her lunch. She tucked the remnants back into her lunch bag, zipping it closed before reaching for her water bottle and taking a refreshing sip.

“That’s my girl! We are going to look so good tonight!” Tamaya completed packing her lunch as she rose from the chair, sliding it back into place.

Sakshi escorted her best friend Tamaya to the door, where Tamaya waved goodbye to the children. They instantly recognized her and rushed in for a hug, making her laugh at their adorable antics.

“Imma see you at home bestie?” Sakshi asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be home after work so we can head out tonight.” Tamaya replied before heading out the door.

Tamaya and Sakshi embraced warmly before Tamaya stepped out the door and made her way to her car. Once inside, she set her lunch bag on the passenger seat, inserted her keys into the ignition, and started the engine, ready to return to work.

She felt a knot of anxiety about the evening ahead, wishing for a chance to enjoy herself without his entourage hovering around like they were undercover agents. It struck her as deeply unfair to endure this situation, especially since he was the one who had set everything in motion by getting involved in the streets.

Had he chosen a different path, they might still be together, enjoying the happiness they once shared as a couple.

After a long day at work, Tamaya finally arrived home. She parked her car beside her best friend's vehicle, which was already in the apartment's driveway. As she turned off the engine, she gathered her belongings and made her way to the front door, jingling her keys as she prepared to unlock it.

As soon as she completed that task, she swung open the door and spotted her best friend lounging in the living room, engrossed in her favorite show on the wall-mounted TV. Tamaya set her belongings down on the nearby sofa, slipping off her shoes and neatly placing them on the shoe rack attached to the wall.

“What time are we leaving?” Tamaya asked heading towards the kitchen to get her something to drink.

“I was waiting on you to come home so that I could dress you up for tonight,” Sakshi replied with a smile on her face.

“Girl, please don’t dress me nothing slutty alright?” Sakshi chuckled at her as she got up from the couch dragging her best friend upstairs towards her bedroom, “damn girl wait a min now, I gotta take a shower!”

Fresh from a soothing warm shower, Tamaya stood with a towel snugly wrapped around her body. She glanced up at her best friend, who was already dressed and beaming with excitement, showcasing the outfit she had carefully chosen for her.

Tamaya's ensemble was adorable, featuring a black crop top paired with denim shorts. As she prepared for her day, she applied coconut lotion to her skin, filling the room with a delightful coconut aroma.

With skillful hands, she applied her makeup and smoothed out her blonde wig, which perfectly complemented her complexion. As she added the finishing touch of lip gloss, she rubbed her lips together, creating a satisfying “pop” sound. Tamaya rose from the chair and approached the mirror, admiring her reflection to ensure she was ready to dazzle tonight.

She caught sight of the scars on her wrist, including one along the side of her rib cage, which triggered vivid memories of the brutal fight with Tre. It was during that confrontation that he had stabbed her with a knife, leading to her hospitalization.

She longed to celebrate her scars, proudly displaying the journey she had endured. No longer did she wish to conceal her past; in her heart, she was a survivor. As her best friend entered the bedroom, she noticed Tamaya gazing at her marks, a testament to her strength.

“Hey, I’m glad you’re still here Maya.” She said softly as Tamaya gave her a faint smile on her face.

“Yeah, I’m glad that I’m here too.”

“But, our uber is here so make sure you have everything including the keys to the crib just in case I get drunk.” Tamaya chuckled at her pushing Sakshi towards the door.

Tamaya double-checked that she had her phone and the keys linked to her car as they made their way downstairs. Just as they reached the door, she felt her phone vibrate. Pulling it from her purse, she noticed another text message from Tre.

Tre💔 sent a message

Tre💔: don’t forget I’m watching you Tay I’m always watching you princess

Tamaya hopped into the Uber, closing the door with a soft click as she settled beside Sakshi. As she secured her seatbelt, she engaged the driver in conversation, chatting about their day and various topics while the driver navigated the route to their destination.

Gazing out the window, she admired the stars twinkling brilliantly in the night sky, accompanied by the gentle glow of the half crescent moon watching over her. Memories flooded back of her flight to Atlanta with her best friend, a journey that marked her escape from Tre. She had finally decided she could no longer endure the way he treated her.

At times, he would exude such charm that he could draw her in exactly where he wanted her, only to inflict emotional harm, dismantling her bit by bit until she reached her breaking point. This relentless torment often drove her to self-harm as a way to cope.

He had no idea what she was up to, nor did he have any interest in discovering it. She was determined to remain by his side until she completed nursing school. It was only after that, when she made the choice to leave him for her best friend.

When Tre discovered that she had walked away from him, he spiraled into a deep despair. His emotional turmoil led him to wreak havoc in his home, and in his frantic state, he bombarded her phone with calls, oblivious to the fact that she had already blocked him. In a desperate attempt to locate her, he enlisted the help of a friend, who eventually uncovered that she had relocated to Atlanta.

He had no intention of letting her slip away without a fight, and if anyone dared to take her from him, he would storm in and eliminate them right then and there.

At last, they arrived at the club, expressing their gratitude to the Uber driver before stepping out of the car. The parking lot was bustling with vehicles, some even parked on the grass. Sakshi eagerly pulled Tamaya toward the entrance, and as they entered the building, they were greeted by the sight of a lively dance floor filled with people.

As the infectious beats of "Greedy" by Tate McRae filled the air, Sakshi and Tamaya lost themselves on the dance floor, moving in sync with one another. They hadn’t even settled into their seats yet, but the energy was electric, and they were already in high spirits. This was exactly the escape Sakshi craved—a chance to revel in the moment without a care in the world.

“Girrrl, c’mon so we can get to our seats girl.” Tamaya said.

Tamaya took hold of Sakshi's hand and led her to a pair of vacant seats, setting their purses on the sofa before settling in. They were eager to kick back and enjoy some drinks. Soon, the waiter arrived with a bottle of Don Julio and Hennessy, along with a chaser, just in case they wanted to mix things up.

“Oh, girl we finna be fucked up tonight. Hopefully we can make it home.” Sakshi said.

Sakshi and Tamaya started downing shots one after another, fully immersed in the rhythm of the music as they made their way back to the dance floor. Tamaya began to dance provocatively on her best friend, while Sakshi cheered her on, singing the lyrics in unison.

“So don’t be greedy!” Tamaya felt a warm rush as the Don Julio began to take effect in her system.

At the same time, Jey was hanging out with his cousins and brothers, with Seanna nearby, sipping on beers and chatting about family matters and wrestling. As they engaged in conversation, Jey's attention was suddenly drawn to a striking woman on the dance floor. She was dressed in a black crop top and denim shorts, complemented by stylish fur boots. She looked absolutely stunning—beyond impressive, really.

He took another gulp of his beer when he heard his cousin Zilla calling for him, drawing his focus.

“What’s up Uce?” He replied.

“I was saying how we gonna plan out this cookout this weekend?” Zilla said.

“Like we always do Uce, you know Takecia brings the boys for the weekend and comes to get them Monday.” Jey's attention returned to the girl as she playfully danced, clearly having a great time with her best friend. He found it entertaining, especially since he had never seen her around before.

His twin brother Jimmy caught on that his sibling's focus had shifted elsewhere. Glancing down at the dance floor, he spotted a girl dancing closely with her best friend, which made him smirk.

“Who got your attention Uce?”

“Shawty down there with her friend, I’m finna holla at her.”

Seanna raised an eyebrow at him when he said that like she didn’t exist. “Nigga you finna do what?” Causing Jey to sigh deeply while rolling his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it Seanna I’ll be back.” Jey took one last gulp of his beer before heading to the dance floor, where Tamaya and Sakshi were lost in their own universe. Oblivious to the world around them, Sakshi tilted another shot of Don Julio into Tamaya's mouth, and she eagerly swallowed it down.

“Hell yeah bestie!” Sakshi shouted hyping her friend up.

Tamaya was lost in her own world, swaying to the rhythm of the music when she suddenly felt a presence behind her. Initially thinking it was Sakshi, she was taken aback to find a tall, muscular man standing close. Instinctively, she wanted to shove him away, but the effects of the drinks made her too carefree to act. Instead, she kept dancing, her hand draped around the back of his neck while his arm encircled her waist, his face nestled against her shoulder.

“I never seen you around here before, what’s yo’ name mama?” Jey whispered gently, his lips nearly brushing against her earlobe.

“Tamaya or Maya for short whatever you want to call me, what’s your name?” She responded while gazing into his deep chocolate brown eyes.

“Joshua, but my people over there call me Jey or Josh.” Joshua, huh? That name actually sounds quite fitting for this impressive individual.

He looked deep into her rich chocolate brown eyes, feeling her body press against him, causing a noticeable tension to build in his jeans. “you’re pretty as hell not going lie,”

A warm flush spread across her cheeks as he praised her, a rare occurrence since her time with Tre had dulled such sweet words.

“Thank you, you’re handsome yourself are you mixed with anything?” He shook his head. “Nah, I’m Samoan little mama.” Samoan? Her best friend raved about the Samoan men, claiming they are incredibly handsome and fiercely loyal.

“You are the most pretty Samoan man I ever seen for my first time living down here.” She said hearing a chuckle coming from his lips.

“Hm, maybe I could show you around sometime.” Tamaya felt uncertain, even with Tre keeping a watchful eye on her from every angle.

“I’m a dangerous girl Mr Joshua.” He let out a soft laugh as he gazed into her eyes, then shifted his focus to her lips. “How dangerous are we talking hm?”

The alcohol was affecting her intensely, enveloping her body in a warm, fuzzy sensation, while a playful smirk danced across her lips.

“Very dangerous to the point where my ex could get you sir.” Tamaya spoke in a hushed voice, her tone dripping with an irresistible allure.

Jey glanced over her shoulder and surveyed the club before returning her gaze to meet her eyes, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. “Ion’ see his ass anywhere he must be a dummy leaving a pretty girl like yourself here shi probably won’t even be mad if I kiss you right now.” Tamaya was far from clear-headed, but honestly, she didn’t give a damn about how Tre would react to her kissing someone else.

“Kiss me then since you’re so addicted to my lips staring at them all night.” Without a moment's pause, Jey seized her throat gently, leaning in to press his lips against hers as they lost themselves in a passionate kiss on the dance floor.

Her closest friend witnessed the entire scene play out before her, cheering her on as Tamaya flashed a playful middle finger, grinning during the kiss while his tongue explored her mouth, the taste of beer lingering from him.

The kiss was languid and intense, pulling her into a daze as she grasped his mullet, craving more from him. This was uncharacteristic for her; she had only known this man for a matter of minutes, yet here she was, allowing him to explore her mouth with his tongue.

His lips glided along her jawline, descending to her neck, igniting a whirlwind of sensations as his warm, lingering kisses met her skin. “S-shit..” a moan a slipped out from her lips feeling his lips form into a smirk.

“What’chu doing later tonight?” He murmured.

“I got work in the morning.” She said softly.

He drew back from her neck, and she noticed his lips had taken on a deep pink hue from their kisses on her lips and skin, gazing up at his towering frame.

“Did you and yo’ friend drive here?” Tamaya shook her head, indicating that they had arrived by Uber.

“I can take yall home if you want me to.”

“That’s fine with us when can’t get a uber in this condition anyways.” Tamaya said.

He asked them to hold on while he went to let his people know he was bringing them home. She complied, making her way over to her best friend, who wore a smug grin. Tamaya couldn't help but roll her eyes at her. “Don’t start bitch.”

“Girl no prepare to be sick of me for the rest of the week!” Sakshi shouted as Tamaya nudge her arm.

Jey drove Tamaya and her best friend back to their apartment, the sweet sound of her gentle snores from the front seat making him smile. However, his gaze fell upon the scars on her arms and the side of her rib cage, stirring a sense of concern in him as he pondered what might have caused them.

It wasn't his place to know anything about her until he truly understood her. He pulled into their driveway and switched off the engine, gently nudging Tamaya to wake her, which also stirred her best friend, who began rubbing her eyes.

“Hey miss sleeping beauty you’re home.” Jey said softly.

“Thank you for the ride home,” Tamaya responded while picking up her purse and keys for the apartment.

As she stepped out of his car, he quickly followed suit, hurrying to her side to open the door for her, aware that she still had a hint of alcohol in her system. She flashed him a smile as he closed the door behind her, then walked alongside her and Sakshi toward their entrance.

He found himself unable to look away as her curves swayed enticingly in her jean shorts while she ascended the stairs. Once they arrived at their apartment door, she effortlessly swung it open, allowing Sakshi to stumble in first, clearly the most inebriated of the group, leaving Tamaya and Jey standing together outside.

Tamaya felt a wave of shyness wash over her as she tucked her hair behind her ear, her gaze fixed on her feet, unsure of how to respond. It wasn't until he gently lifted her chin, encouraging her to meet his eyes, that she found her voice. "Thank you once more, Joshua."

“It’s no problem mamas, just wanted to be sure yall made it home safely being a drunk and shit.” Jey replied to her as they both laughed with each other.

Just as she was about to step into her apartment, he wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her nearer to him. “What’chu doing this weekend?”

“I don’t have anything planned why?”

“My people are having a cookout this weekend if you wanted to slide through you and yo’ best friend.” She felt uncertain about whether she could handle it, especially knowing that she was likely being observed at that very moment, possibly waiting for text messages from Tre.

But did she give a damn about Tre? No

But was she scared of what he could do? Yes

According to what she gathered, Samoan men are fiercely protective of the women in their lives, whether in family ties or otherwise; they take this responsibility seriously and do not take it lightly.

Tamaya became aware that she had not responded to his question while gazing into his eyes, where he remained patiently awaiting her reply.

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind going just send me the addy and I’ll be there.” She said giving him a smile.

The moment he saw her smile, something stirred within him that he had never experienced before. The sight of her sporting her own grills only deepened his admiration for her.

They remained in that embrace for a moment, until he inched closer, mirroring her movements. Their lips met once more in a gentle kiss, prompting her to wrap her arms around his neck as she rose onto her tiptoes.

“So fucking dangerous.” Jey murmured between the kiss.

His hands settled on her backside, gripping her cheeks firmly, which surprised her momentarily, but she pressed on. It was as if she were lost in a surreal dream, a hazy fantasy, wishing she would awaken at any moment.

They stepped back from one another, locking eyes as Jey leaned in to plant another kiss on her lips, relishing the moment. He ran his tongue along the bottom of his lips before tucking them in, gazing down at her petite frame.

“Go home boy,”

“Lemme’ get yo’ number real quick then I’ll go.” Tamaya sighed dramatically as she passed him her phone, watching him input his number with a hint of annoyance.

The moment she spotted the name he had written, her thoughts raced wildly. With a playful shove, she pushed him away as he started to descend the stairs, her gaze following him while she stepped into her apartment.

Tamaya spotted Sakshi peacefully dozing on the couch and couldn't help but chuckle as she made her way upstairs to her bedroom. As she began to undress on her way to the shower, her phone buzzed with a notification. Glancing at the screen, she noticed a message from Jey waiting for her.

ZaddyJey🤫💜 sent a message

ZaddyJey🤫💜: damn you got me addicted to you already mama😩

She chuckled at his message texting him back in the process.

Maya🪬: I told you I’m dangerous nd you ain’t listen to me that’s yo’ fault 🙂‍↕️

ZaddyJey🤫💜: man fuck allat I’m tryna get to know you

Maya🪬: Joshua go home I know you still out there in your car sir 😭

ZaddyJey🤫💜: sent me some pictures then I’ll go home

Maya🪬: can I take my shower first?

ZaddyJey🤫💜: my fault mama go ahead but imma head home don’t forget to send me some

Maya🪬: aight

She set her phone on the sink counter and stepped into the shower.

Once she finished her shower, she settled into her bed, gazing up at the ceiling. Memories of the kiss she shared with Jey flooded her mind. Despite barely knowing him, their kiss felt as if they had been connected for a lifetime.

His charming demeanor had a profound effect on her, sweeping her off her feet with an ease that both thrilled and frightened her. It reminded her of Tre, who could be so charming in public yet turned cold and dismissive when they were alone. But tonight was different with Jey. He was gentle and respectful, offering to take her home and planting a soft kiss on her lips that stirred something deep within her.

She couldn't quite identify what it was.

A buzz from her phone caught her attention as she reached for it on the small dresser beside her. Glancing at the screen, she noticed a text from Jey, and a wave of realization washed over her—she had nearly forgotten to send him some pictures. But did she truly want to share them, considering how little she actually knew him?

ZaddyJey🤫💜 sent a message

ZaddyJey🤫💜: where them pictures at? Don’t be shy 🙈

Tamaya chuckled at his response started sending him pictures.

Maya🪬:

ZaddyJey🤫💜: fuck 😩

Maya🪬: oops sorry did I make you nut yourself?

ZaddyJey🤫💜: very funny little mama but damn you look cute as hell girl

Maya🪬: thank you I’m getting a lot of compliments coming from you and I barely even know you 😭😭

ZaddyJey🤫💜: you’ll get to know me more fasho I’m very open minded don’t have no shame about my life

Maya🪬: okay period

ZaddyJey🤫💜: whatchu finna do rn?

Maya🪬: I’m finna head to bed I gotta get up early in the morning for work

ZaddyJey🤫💜: what’chu do for work?

Maya🪬: I’m a pediatric nurse I work with children

ZaddyJey🤫💜: for real? That’s wassup I bet you making good money huh?

Maya🪬: something like that hbu?

ZaddyJey🤫💜: I’m a professional wrestler

Maya🪬: the ones I be seeing on TV when I was little kid? Where you put them through tables?

ZaddyJey🤫💜: Hell yeah yk yo’ stuff huh?

Maya🪬: please 😭 I only know a little bit about it

ZaddyJey🤫💜: mhm what made you come to Atlanta?

Maya🪬: I just wanted to be in a new environment with my best friend ofc living in Cali wasn’t the move for me

ZaddyJey🤫💜: aye I’m from Cali too shi we got a lot in common mama

Maya🪬: yeah we do which is surprising lol 😭

ZaddyJey🤫💜: what part?

Maya🪬: San Francisco

ZaddyJey🤫💜: shiiii me too! Damn I’m starting to like you already

Maya🪬: 🙂‍↕️

ZaddyJey🤫💜: I know you probably tired so I’ll text you in the morning aight?

Maya🪬: aight goodnight Joshua 🩷

ZaddyJey🤫💜: goodnight mamas ❤️

Tamaya set her phone down on the small dresser and settled into the bed, pulling the blanket over herself. She wriggled and shifted, seeking the perfect position to feel cozy.

Something felt off, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Sleep eluded her for reasons she couldn't understand. Was it Jey's influence, or perhaps her longing for him to be beside her in the same bed?

She realized that whatever was weighing on her mind had to be set aside for now. So, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and allowed herself to drift off into a peaceful slumber.

Her phone vibrated twice, but she was sound asleep, completely unaware of the notifications.

Tre💔 sent two messages

Tre💔: I heard you kiss another nigga at a club with your hoe ass friend? You think this shit is a game Maya? I told you I will kill any nigga that get close to you.

Tre💔: I fucking made you Maya that nigga won’t love you the way I did don’t ever fucking forget that

itstrevon, therealsaki, uceyjucey, and others liked your post

babytaytay: outside tonight 🤪

itstrevon: outside being hoe kissing on another nigga knowing how crazy I am for you

babytaytay: @ itstrevon nigga fuck you respectfully I do what I want

therealsaki: girrrl we was lit last night and don’t think I forgot about what happened between you and the dude

babytaytay: @ therealsaki girl please stfu don’t start 😭😭

uceyjucey: fuck baby you looked so good tonight caught my attention quick

itstrevon: @ uceyjucey aye bitch ass nigga gtfo she belong to me

uceyjucey: @ itstrevon 🤨 last time I check she was along with her best friend didn’t see yo’ ass nowhere in sight at least I got a taste of her pretty ass lips

itstrevon: @ uceyjucey you must wanna fucking die bitch ass nigga

uceyjucey: @ itstrevon yo’ ass a bitch typing away still so I would trend lightly

Read all comments.

WRITTEN IN RED

a/n: ya’ll think Tre will stop Tamaya from going to the cookout or will Tamaya go regardless of what he says?

hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below.⬇️

STAY UCEY

#jey uso #black fanfic writer #black writers #black oc #wwelove #black reader #jey x oc black #jey uso fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #jey uso smut #Spotify

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