#I haven’t listened to commitment anyway | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shdysders · 2 months ago

Text

lacy

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: in which you’re taras lacy.

word count: im sorry if this is too repetitive, tbh I haven’t checked it out completely.

Tara wished more than anything that she had never noticed you.

She didn't even know when it started, only that she wanted it to stop.

Maybe it began the day you arrived—new to town, unfamiliar yet impossible to ignore. You weren't loud or attention-seeking, but there was something about you that unsettled her.

The way people turned their heads when you walked by, drawn in as if you belonged here more than she ever had. The way you spoke, soft but certain, like every word mattered. Tara hadn't meant to pay attention, but it was like trying to ignore a song stuck in her head.

At first, she told herself it was curiosity. A natural awareness of someone new, nothing more.

But curiosity didn't make her stomach twist when someone said your name. It didn't make her feel like she was always a step behind you, lingering in your shadow, caught between admiration and something far uglier.

And it definitely didn't make her hate herself for caring.

The first time Tara saw you, it was in the crowded hallway between classes. She hadn't even realized you were new at first, just another face in the sea of students.

But then, she noticed the way people reacted to you—how eyes lingered, how heads turned, how conversations paused just slightly as you passed, as if your presence demanded attention without you even trying.

She expected you to be shy. New people always were. She had been, once. But when you walked into class and the teacher asked you to introduce yourself, you did it like it was nothing.

Your voice was steady, carrying across the room with a quiet kind of confidence. You told them your name, where you'd moved from, a few surface-level facts. Nothing extraordinary. And yet, Tara felt a strange, unwelcome pull, like she had to listen, had to commit every word to memory.

She figured that would be the extent of it—that you'd settle in like everyone else, fade into the background once the novelty of being new wore off.

But then she saw you again. And again. And again.

You seemed to be everywhere. In the cafeteria, in the hallways, in the casual mentions of her friends.

It wasn't like you were trying. That was the worst part.

You weren't loud or overly outgoing, but people naturally gravitated toward you anyway. Teachers liked you, students wanted to befriend you, and you made it look so damn easy.

And then, just when Tara had thought she could get away with pretending not to notice you, you had noticed her first.

She had been at her locker, switching out her books, when she had caught movement from the corner of her eye. Then your voice—light, friendly, like this was something you did all the time.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. You're Tara, right?"

Tara had glanced up, and there you had been. Close enough that she had no choice but to acknowledge you.

You had smiled—not in a way that felt forced or overly eager. Just warm. Easy. Like it was second nature to introduce yourself to everyone you met. And Tara had hated how much that stuck with her—how natural you had made it seem, how different you were from her in all the ways she had wished she could ignore.

She had nodded, offering a small, awkward smile, unsure of how else to respond. "Yeah. That's me."

You had shifted your books in your arms, tilting your head slightly. "I think we have more than two classes together, so I figured I might as well introduce myself."

Tara hadn't known how to handle that—how effortlessly you had spoken, how you had said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. She had just nodded again, murmuring a quiet, "Oh. Cool."

That should have been the end of it.

But it wasn't.

Because she had heard that same introduction in other classes—watched as you had walked up to different people with the same soft smile, the same easygoing tone. You hadn't hesitated when teachers had asked you to introduce yourself, hadn't stumbled over your words like she would have. You had spoken like you belonged here, like you weren't the least bit concerned about how people perceived you.

And maybe that was the worst part—because for you, it was easy. It wasn't something you had to think about, something that had sat heavy on your shoulders like it had for her. You hadn't hesitated, hadn't second-guessed yourself, hadn't fumbled over your words like she always seemed to.

Tara hadn't even remembered what she had said in response—something short, something dismissive. She had just wanted the conversation to end.

But it hadn't. Not really.

Because after that, she had started seeing you everywhere. And suddenly, you hadn't just been some new person anymore. You had been the person who had smiled at her like it was effortless. The person whose name had seemed to follow her, weaving itself into her life whether she had wanted it to or not.

It was like the universe was pushing you toward her, weaving you into the fabric of her life whether she wanted it or not. And maybe that was the worst part—because no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't ignore you.

Not when the whole world seemed to notice you, too.

Tara hadn't even noticed how you looked at first.

Not like anybody seemed to. Everyone was just caught up on the fact that you were new.

That wasn't what had made you stand out to her. It was everything else—the way people reacted to you, the way your name kept coming up in conversations, the way you just... existed so easily in places where she had always felt like she had to fight to be seen.

But once she noticed, she couldn't unnotice.

She didn't know when it started. Maybe it was the first time you passed her in the hallway, and she caught the faint trace of your perfume—something light and clean, barely there, but still lingering in the air after you were gone. Maybe it was the way people naturally leaned in when you spoke, like they wanted to hear more, like you had some unspoken gravitational pull that drew them closer.

It wasn't intentional. She hadn't meant to pay attention to any of it. But that was the thing about you—everything you did had a way of creeping in when she least expected it.

At first, it was easy to dismiss. Just a passing thought. Just something in the background, barely worth acknowledging.

But then she started noticing more.

How your skin always looked impossibly smooth, soft in a way that felt almost unnatural, like you had never known anything sharp or cruel. She wasn't looking—God, she wasn't looking—but sometimes the sun would hit just right, and she'd catch a glimpse of warmth on your cheekbones, a glow that made it impossible to ignore.

How you pressed your lips together when you were concentrating, as if you were holding back the urge to say something out loud. How you had a habit of breaking the tips of your pencils on purpose, just so your writing would look a certain way. How you always flipped your notebook to a fresh page even when there was still space left on the previous one, like the mess of unfinished thoughts bothered you more than wasted paper.

She wasn’t looking for these things. She wasn't sitting there, analyzing you like some kind of fascination. But they kept showing up anyway, slipping into her awareness before she could push them out.

And it annoyed her. More than it should have.

Because it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair how effortless you made everything seem, how your confidence didn't feel forced the way hers always did. It wasn't fair how teachers seemed to already like you, how students naturally gravitated toward you, how your name had worked its way into her head without her permission.

And it really, really wasn't fair how you weren't even trying.

It wasn't like you were trying to be liked, trying to stand out. You were just... existing. Living. Doing things without overthinking them, without worrying about how they might come across. And maybe that was the worst part—because for Tara, none of that had ever been easy.

And now, she couldn't stop noticing.

Because everyone loved you. That much was obvious.

Tara saw it in the way people reacted to you, how they laughed a little too easily at your jokes—even the ones that weren't that funny. She saw it in the way conversations seemed to shift when you joined them, like people wanted to impress you without even realizing it.

And she hated it.

Not just because you had that effortless charm, that unshakable ease that made everything seem so damn simple—but because it was real.

You weren't fake. You weren't putting on an act or twisting your words to make people like you. You were just nice. Genuinely, painfully, unreasonably nice.

And it made her stomach twist.

Because no one was that sweet for no reason.

Tara had met people like that before—people who smiled too easily, who said all the right things, who made kindness feel like a performance. She knew how to spot it, how to pick apart the cracks in the mask until the real person underneath showed through.

But with you, there were no cracks.

You weren't pretending. You weren't forcing it. You were just...like that.

And that only made it worse.

Because if there was something ugly underneath—some hidden flaw, some selfish motive—Tara could have handled that. She could have told herself that you weren't as perfect as everyone thought, that you were just playing the same game as everyone else.

But you weren't.

You were real. And that was the most infuriating part.

There was something about you that didn't belong in the same world as the rest of them—something too soft, too delicate, too untouched. Like you had never seen the worst in people, never been hurt enough to carry the weight of it.

Tara wanted to find a reason to hate you. She wanted to pick you apart, to find the thing that made you less than what everyone thought you were.

But every time she tried, she came up empty.

Your eyes were the worst part.

Wide, bright, completely open—like you had never needed to guard yourself, like the world had never given you a reason to. Tara couldn't stand it.

It wasn't just the way they looked, soft and untroubled, but the way they felt. The way they held a kind of quiet innocence, an unshaken belief in the goodness of things. Like you had never learned to expect the worst from people. Like you had never been hurt badly enough to make you wary.

She didn't know what to do with that.

Because when you smiled—really smiled, the kind that crinkled the corners of your eyes and made your whole face light up—it made her feel off balance. And when she caught you staring out a window in class, lost in your own world, your expression so effortlessly peaceful, it made her angry.

It wasn't fair.

How could someone exist like that? How could you walk through life so untouched, so light, when she had spent years learning how to carry weight that never seemed to leave her shoulders?

Tara felt rough in comparison. Sharper edges, colder glances, a world of difference between the way she saw things and the way you did. And it made her hate looking at you for too long, because the longer she did, the more she felt like she wasn't supposed to be near you at all.

Like whatever you were made of—whatever softness, whatever lightness—it wasn't meant for her.

And maybe that was the problem.

Because the more she fixated on you, the more she realized it had nothing to do with you at all. It was her. The way she bristled at your kindness, the way she flinched at the warmth in your eyes, the way she resented how easy the world seemed for you. It wasn't because you were perfect—it was because she wasn't.

Because she had never been.

She had spent so long being haunted by things she couldn't change, by bloodstains she couldn't scrub away, by ghosts that never let her breathe. And then there you were, unburdened, living in a way she no longer knew how to.

You existed in a world that had never touched you the way it had touched her, never carved out pieces of you and left you scrambling to fill the gaps. And she hated that she could see it so clearly.

She didn't want to compare. She didn't want to feel like this. But she couldn't help it.

It made her stomach twist. Not because she hated you. But because she hated that she cared.

Because every time she looked at you, it wasn't just you she saw. It was herself. The jagged edges, the shadows under her eyes, the way she had learned to live with the weight of everything she had been through.

And the worst part? She wasn't sure if she envied you or resented you for it. Maybe both. Maybe neither. Maybe she just hated that, for the first time in a long time, she was forced to acknowledge just how much she wasn't doing well at all.

And it wasn't something she could ignore.

Not when it followed her everywhere—this awful, gnawing awareness of you. She'd already come to terms with the fact that it wasn't just you that got under her skin. It was what you represented, what you made her see in herself, all the things she tried not to think about. But knowing that didn't help. If anything, it made it worse.

Because even when you weren't there, you were.

Like the scent of your perfume that lingered long after you'd walked away, like the faint trace of your voice in the back of her mind, like the ghost of something she didn't ask to be haunted by.

She could be sitting in class, half-listening to a lecture, and suddenly, she'd remember the way your eyes lit up when you talked about something you loved.

She could be walking home, exhausted, barely thinking at all, and she'd catch a whiff of someone else's shampoo—not even yours—and somehow, you'd still come to mind.

It made her stomach twist. It made her furious.

Why couldn't she shake you? Why did her brain insist on keeping you there, tucked away in places she couldn't reach to rip you out? She had more important things to think about—more RRAL things, things that actually mattered.

And yet, you lingered.

She wasn't watching you. She wasn't.

And yet, you lingered.

No matter how much she tried to push you from her mind, you were always there. In the corner of her vision, in the spaces between her thoughts, in the background of her day like a song stuck on a loop. It wasn't intentional. She wasn't looking for you. But somehow, she always knew where you were.

It was stupid. Unfair. Irritating.

She told herself it was just awareness. Just familiarity. You were everywhere—laughing with your friends, answering questions in class, moving through the world like you belonged to it in a way she never quite had. It made sense that she would notice you. Anyone would.

But not like this.

Not enough for her gaze to land on you before she even realized what she was doing. Not enough for her to recognize your laugh from across a crowded hallway or pick up on the little shifts in your expression when you thought no one was looking. Not enough for her to feel the weight of you in her mind, refusing to leave.

She wasn't stalking you. She wasn't obsessed.

She was just aware of you. Too aware.

It wasn't the same thing.

Because Tara tried to ignore it. She really did. Tried to ignore you.

Because it wasn't a big deal. She wasn't obsessed.

She wasn't even paying attention. She just happened to notice when your name came up, that was all.

It wasn't like she was waiting for it or anything. But the second Mindy made an offhand comment about running into you earlier—something stupid, something that shouldn't have mattered—Tara felt herself tense.

Tara had rolled her eyes—acted like it was weird that Mindy even remembered it.

She didn't even think before responding, throwing in something to cut you down, something small enough to pass as harmless but sharp enough to stick. Maybe you were only nice because you wanted something. Maybe you were trying too hard. Maybe you weren't actually that great, and people just didn't see it yet. It wasn't like she was lying. She was just balancing things out, making sure no one got too carried away.

But it wasn't just Mindy. It was Chad, too. It was Anika. It was Ethan. It was anyone who spoke about you in a way that made it seem like you were drawing them in. Like they were starting to see you the way everyone else did. Like they were falling for it. And Tara couldn't stand that.

Because how was she supposed to ignore you when no one else did? When every conversation, every passing comment, every stupid mention of your name pulled her attention right back to you? It was exhausting. You were everywhere, even when you weren't. She could try to pretend you didn't exist, but the world wouldn't let her. It was like the universe was making sure she never forgot about you.

They were her friends. She'd been through hell with them. She had nearly died with them. And yet, somehow, you were slipping into their world like you belonged there. Like you could just show up and be part of something that wasn't yours. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. And maybe it didn't make sense, but that didn't change the fact that every time she heard your name, she felt like she had to do something about it.

And maybe that was the worst part—because no matter how much she told herself it didn't matter, no matter how much she tried to act like she didn't care, she knew she was lying. It had already taken over her life.

Everywhere she went, you were there. Not in a way that was intentional—at least, she hoped it wasn't—but in a way that made it impossible to ignore. In the halls, in the cafeteria, in the classroom when she was supposed to be paying attention to something else. She could tell herself she wasn't looking for you, but somehow, she always knew exactly where you were.

And it was ridiculous. Tara felt ridiculous. Out of everything she had been through, THIS was what got to her?

She had survived Ghostface attacks, lost people she cared about, fought to keep herself together through things that actually mattered. And yet, here she was, completely unraveling over something as stupid as this.

Over you.

It wasn't even real torture. Not like the kind she knew. No one was chasing her with a knife. No one was trying to kill her. But in some ways, this was almost worse. At least with Ghostface, she knew what she was up against—knew how to fight back. But this? There was no strategy, no way to escape something that wasn't even real.

She had seen Ghostface before. In shadows, in reflections, in the dark corners of her mind where her worst memories lived.

But Ghostface wasn't everywhere. You were. She didn't see them in the cafeteria, in the halls, in the stupid little moments of her day that were supposed to be normal. Ghostface wasn't sitting at the next table, laughing with friends, tucking a strand of hair behind their ear without a second thought.

But you were. And somehow, that made it worse.

And maybe that was why she let it linger. Why she couldn't stop herself from noticing you, from letting you take up space in her mind. Because compared to everything else, this was the safest kind of suffering she had ever known.

And it wasn't fair.

Because she wanted to roll her eyes, to look away, to force herself not to care. But then you showed up, hair tied back, a ribbon perfectly in place, and there it was again—that stupid, twisting feeling in her stomach that made her feel sick.

You were everywhere—woven into conversations, slipping into places she wasn't expecting. If it wasn't someone mentioning something you said in class, it was a passing comment about how put-together you always seemed. Nothing dramatic, nothing over the top—just little things. Things that shouldn't have mattered.

But they did.

Tara ignored it for as long as she could, convincing herself it was nothing. That you were nothing.

And then, that one morning, when she saw you—hair pulled back, the ribbon keeping it in place, and suddenly, it was like something in her snapped.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't just that you looked nice. It was that it suited you. That it was effortless, like everything else you did. You didn't have to think about these things the way she did, didn't have to overanalyze every little detail about yourself. You just existed, and somehow, that was enough. Enough for people to notice, enough for them to admire you, enough for her to—

No.

Tara had clenched her jaw and forced herself to look away, but it didn't help. Because even when she wasn't looking, she still heard your voice. Still caught the way people spoke about you.

She had been through real things. Painful things. Things that should've left her numb to something as trivial as this. And yet, here she was—annoyed, unsettled, tangled up in thoughts about you like it was something that actually mattered.

It made her want to say something. To remind everyone that you weren't all that, that you weren't perfect, that you had to have some kind of flaw they weren't seeing.

But every time she tried, the words never came out right.

And she couldn't figure out why that bothered her so much.

She didn't want anything from you.

That was what she told herself, over and over, trying to make it true.

But it wasn't.

It was a cruel, twisted lie—one that sat in the pit of her stomach, coiling tight whenever she saw you, whenever she heard your name, whenever she caught herself paying too much attention.

Maybe it was the way people gravitated toward you. The way they leaned in when you spoke, the way their laughter felt lighter, easier, when you were around.

Maybe it was the effortless way you existed, never seeming to second-guess yourself, never needing to prove anything to anyone. Maybe it was the fact that, somehow, without even trying, you had become the person people noticed. The one they admired.

Or maybe—maybe it was worse than that.

Because deep down, she knew it wasn't just about what you had.

Maybe she wanted you.

The thought made her feel sick.

No. No, that wasn't true. It couldn't be true.

Tara clenched her fists, nails pressing into her palms, forcing herself to breathe through the tightness in her chest. She wouldn't let that be true.

She refused to.

And she tried. She tried so hard. She swears she does. She lists every reason why you shouldn't get under her skin.

You're just a person.

Just some girl.

You're not special.

You're not different.

But it doesn't work.

Because every time she tells herself you're nothing, something proves her wrong.

She remembers once, in class, when her pen slipped from her fingers and rolled off her desk. Before she could even react, you passed by, stooping down to grab it without hesitation. You barely looked at her, barely acknowledged it, just handed it back like it was nothing.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And for some reason, that stuck with her.

She had stared at the pen in her hand for too long afterward, gripping it too tightly, something unfamiliar twisting in her stomach. Because it was proof, wasn't it? Proof that you weren't some perfect, untouchable figure. You were just... nice. Not because people were watching, not because you wanted something in return, but because that's just who you were.

And that made her furious.

Because it meant she had no reason to hate you. No excuse to dismiss you. No justification for the way you consumed her thoughts.

So she convinced herself of something else instead.

You did it because you wanted people to like you. That was it. That had to be it. You wanted to be seen as the good one, the kind one, the one no one could ever say a bad word about. That was your game. That was your angle.

Tara had clenched her jaw, forcing the memory away, pushing down the irritation bubbling up in her chest.

She hated it. Hated how irrational it was, how impossible it was to shut off.

She was angry—at you, at herself, at the fact that no matter what she did, she kept coming back to you.

So she tried to blame you. To twist everything in her head until it wasn't her fault.

That was easier. That was safer.

Because if she could convince herself that you were calculated, that your kindness was just another way to make people adore you, then none of this was real. None of it meant anything.

But then there were moments she couldn't twist, moments she couldn't justify no matter how hard she tried.

She remembered it too clearly—the way you had walked up to her locker, casual as ever, barely a second thought in your step. You weren't hesitant. You weren't nervous. Like talking to her was the most natural thing in the world.

She heard your voice before she even turned around.

"Hey, Tara."

She almost ignored you, almost pretended she hadn't heard, but then you were already beside her, standing just close enough that she had no choice but to acknowledge you.

You had smiled at her. Not a big, beaming one, not something fake or forced, just an easy, natural expression, like talking to her was as simple as breathing.

"I missed a few things in history today. Could I check your notes?"

Your tone was light, normal, like you had no idea what you were doing to her. Like this was just another conversation, nothing worth reading into.

And that should've been true.

But she didn't think before she spoke.

"Maybe you should've paid attention."

The words came out colder than she intended, sharp and clipped, designed to sting.

She saw it happen in real time—the way your lips parted slightly, like you weren't sure you heard her right, the way your brows furrowed just a little before you caught yourself.

For a second, you hesitated.

Then you nodded. "Oh. Right. I—yeah, never mind."

It wasn't dramatic. You didn't snap back, didn't get angry, didn't even try to argue. You just stepped back, confusion flickering across your face before you covered it up with something more neutral.

"Forget I asked."

And then you turned and walked away.

Tara watched you go, jaw tight, fingers curling around the strap of her bag like that would somehow ground her.

She should've felt victorious.

She should've felt relieved that, for once, you weren't perfect, that she had managed to knock you down just a little.

And for a split second, she almost did.

But later that night, when she was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, the memory kept replaying in her head. The way you had looked at her—not angry, not annoyed, just... confused.

Hurt.

She swallowed hard, shifting under her blankets, trying to force herself to sleep.

It shouldn't matter.

It didn't matter.

But then why did she feel so awful?

She tried to remind herself that you weren't even real—not in the way other people were.

People made mistakes.

They stumbled, they faltered, they showed cracks.

But you? You didn't. Not once.

And it was driving her insane.

She noticed it during the class presentations. It wasn't a big deal—not at first. Everyone messed up in some way. Even she did, tripping over a few words, losing her train of thought for half a second before catching herself. It was nothing. The teacher didn't care. No one in the class cared. She didn't even care when she sat back down.

But then you went up there.

And you were perfect.

No notecards, no nervous pauses, no hesitations. Just confidence, effortless and unshaken, like you hadn't even considered the possibility of messing up.

Tara sat in her chair, arms crossed tightly over her chest, watching—waiting.

You had to mess up. You had to.

But you didn't.

You stood there, talking about the effects of climate change on marine life, explaining things so smoothly that even the people who hadn't been paying attention to the class all week were listening. You weren't just speaking—you were engaging. Like this was easy for you, like it wasn't something that needed to be practiced or worried over.

Like it came naturally.

Tara's fingers dug into her arm, her jaw clenching tighter with every second that passed.

She had spoken about the history of space exploration. She had done her research, put effort into making it good. And she had been fine—just fine. Not perfect, not effortless, not... whatever you were.

People weren't perfect. They slipped up, they stammered, they fumbled for words. They made mistakes.

So why didn't you?

Why did you always have to be so... untouchable?

She wanted to believe it was fake. That you just hid things better than others, that you practiced more than you let on. But there was nothing forced about the way you carried yourself, nothing fake about the way people listened to you without being asked to.

It wasn't fair.

Maybe she was waiting for you to fail. Maybe she needed you to slip up, to show that you weren't above everyone else, that you were just as flawed as the rest of them. Because if you weren't perfect, then maybe—just maybe—she could stop feeling like this.

But you didn't.

And that just made her hate you more.

But hate didn't feel like enough. Not when you had to be doing this on purpose.

You always seemed to show up at the worst times, right when she had finally convinced herself that she was over it. Right when she had let herself breathe. And then, like clockwork, you appeared—effortless, untouchable, ruining everything without even trying.

It was worse on days when she was already on edge, when she thought she had finally shaken this—whatever THIS was—only for you to walk in like you owned the world, like the universe had conspired against her just to put you in her path. It felt cruel, like a joke she wasn't in on, and it made her want to scream.

Tara told herself you knew exactly what you were doing. That you could see the way she bristled when you walked into a room, how her voice sharpened whenever she spoke to you. That you enjoyed it—the way she got worked up over you, the way you managed to worm your way into her head every single time.

You didn't even have to try, and yet you ruined everything.

It had to be intentional. Because if it wasn't, then what did that say about her?

If you weren't doing this on purpose, then it meant none of it mattered to you. Not her resentment, not her irritation, not the way she spent so much of her time thinking about you. It meant you weren't playing a game with her. You weren't even aware there was a game to play.

Tara tried to ignore the truth staring her in the face. She tried to hold onto the idea that you were calculating, that you knew exactly how perfect you were, how impossible you made things for her. But no matter how much she wanted to believe it, the lie never stuck.

Because you never hesitated when you spoke to her. You never held back a smirk, never threw a knowing glance, never showed any sign that you even noticed how she felt.

You weren't out to get her.

You weren't thinking about her at all.

And somehow, that was so much worse.

Nothing was simple anymore. Nothing was simple when it came to you. Not even the things that used to feel like hers.

She could be out with her friends, forcing herself to have fun, trying to lose herself in the conversation, in the noise—until someone says your name. Until someone mentions how nice you are, or asks if she thinks you're pretty. And just like that, the night is ruined.

Because it's always like this. No matter where she was, no matter what she's doing, you found a way to be there. She could be in class, staring blankly at the board, only to realize she's twirling her pen between her fingers—the way you do. She stops immediately, gripping it so tightly her knuckles turn white.

Or maybe she's shopping, minding her own business, when she would see a shirt on display and know you would wear it. It's your style exactly. The kind of thing you'd throw on without a second thought and somehow still manage to look perfect in. Her first instinct is to scoff—of course you would. You would love it.

But then, a split second later, an image flashes in her mind: you actually wearing it. And she hates how easily she can picture it, how good you'd probably look, how—no.

She shoves the thought away, as if she can physically push it out of her head, but it's too late. The damage is already done.

Even her own actions aren't safe from you. Sometimes she finds herself fixing her hair in the mirror, smoothing it down, tucking it behind her ear—before catching herself and realizing that you do that, too.

Or worse, she'll be doing something completely normal—pouring a drink, typing on her laptop, flipping through a book—and suddenly, she'll wonder how you would do it. Would you hold your cup the same way? Would you skim through pages faster? Would you—ugh.

It's infuriating. She feels like you've infected her, like your presence has seeped into every corner of her life, poisoning even the smallest, most meaningless moments

And she hates that.

She hates that you don't even have to try. That you exist, and that's enough to ruin everything.

She can't escape you.

And nothing is hers anymore.

She hated you.

Hated your voice, the way it carried through a room, light and effortless like you didn't even realize people hung onto every word you said. Hated your stupid little habits—how you always tapped your fingers against the edge of your desk when you were thinking, how you twisted the strap of your bag around your hand while you walked, how you laughed at things that weren’t even that funny but somehow made everyone else laugh, too.

She hated how people talked about you, like you hung the fucking stars, like you were this perfect, untouchable thing. And most of all, she hated that no one else saw it. No one else felt this like she did.

She avoided you. Walked the long way to class, skipped out on group projects, refused to meet your eyes when you talked. She kept her distance, convinced that if she didn't see you, didn't hear you, maybe—just maybe—this would stop.

It didn't.

Because the space you left behind wasn't empty. It was filled with you. With her own thoughts, her own frustration, her own pathetic, pitiful obsession.

And then it happened.

It was something small. Stupid. You bumped into her in the hallway—nothing dramatic, just the kind of passing accident that happened a hundred times a day. You barely reacted, just glanced up, gave a polite sorry, and kept walking.

But Tara burned with it.

The casualness of it. The audacity of it. Like you didn't even think about it. Like it was nothing to you.

Before she even realized what she was doing, she was scrubbing at the spot where your shoulder brushed against hers, like your presence was something she could wipe off.

It was irrational. She knew that. But she couldn’t stop.

Because this—this was proof.

She didn't just resent you. Didn't just dislike you.

She loathed you.

And she loathed herself even more.

Because the thing was.

Tara had always been like this.

Always wanted what she couldn't have.

She had jealousy in her bones.

She'd known it since she was a kid. She had been jealous of Sam, jealous of Mindy, jealous of Amber. She had envied people for things she couldn't name, couldn't help—the way they fit so easily into spaces that never seemed made for her, the way things always worked out for them, the way they had things she didn't, even if she wasn't sure what those things were.

Her parents used to comment on it, her jealousy. Not in a cruel way, just in that casual, offhanded way adults said things they didn't realize would stick.

You've always had jealous eyes, Tara.

She remembered her mom saying it once, maybe twice.

She remembered her dad laughing when she got upset over something small and saying, Tara, not everything is a competition.

She hadn't thought much of it back then. She had just assumed everyone was like this. That it was normal, natural, a part of being human.

But then there was you.

And now—now she understood.

Because this was different. This wasn't the kind of jealousy she had known before, the kind that burned quick and hot and then faded into something else. This wasn't petty, wasn't simple.

This stayed.

Her eyes always found you. It was like she had no say in the matter, no control over it. She could be sitting in class, staring at the board, not even thinking about you, and then—before she even realized it—her gaze would drift. It didn't matter how much she told herself not to look, didn't matter how much she swore she wouldn't.

She always did.

And every time, it pissed her off more than the last.

Because she was jealous. She knew that now. But of what?

The way people loved you? The way you moved through life so easily, like the universe had carved out a space just for you? Or maybe it was something deeper, something uglier—something that made her stomach twist and her throat burn.

Tara couldn't stand it. Couldn't stand that she wasn't strong enough to fight it.

But no matter how much she tried to ignore it, her eyes still followed you.

They always would.

And it wasn't supposed to be like this.

Tara had spent so much time convincing herself that this was simple—that it was just hate, just bitterness, just something sharp and cruel that would fade if she ignored it long enough. She thought if she pushed hard enough, fought hard enough, she could make it go away.

But no amount of distance, no amount of denial, no amount of desperate, clawing frustration could change the truth.

She wasn't just angry.

She wasn't just jealous.

She worshipped you.

Not in a way that was soft, or sweet, or kind. Not in the way people were supposed to love things. No, it was cruel. It was agonizing. It felt like punishment, like some sick, twisted joke the universe was playing on her.

She hated you, and she needed you.

She needed to see you, to know where you were, to hear your voice even when it made her blood boil. She needed to compare herself to you, to pick apart everything you did, to watch you shine and tell herself that one day—one day—she would glow just as brightly.

But she wouldn't.

Because that was the truth, wasn't it? The part she could no longer ignore, no matter how hard she tried.

It wasn't just about you.

It was about her.

Tara Carpenter was the problem.

Her rotten, rotten mind was the problem. The way it twisted things, the way it poisoned everything, the way it clung to you like an obsession she could never shake.

Because you weren't just someone to hate.

You were everything she wanted to be.

#jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader #mabel x reader #melissa barrera x reader #sam carpenter

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dumbkiri · 5 months ago

Text

A FEAST FOR BIRDS

𝐉𝐚��𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐝 𝐱 𝐅! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

When Jason Todd comes back to earth and faces off with his vigilante family along with villains, he settles his problems as much as he could. He reunited with his family, but still kicked villain ass. As the holidays approach, Jason is struck with a range of emotions. An unexpected visitor makes her way in Wayne manor with a child in her arms. Apparently, the child belongs to him.

[ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP]

“I am moving back into Gotham due to some company issues. I wanted to see if Jay can stay at your place for a bit? Maybe spend Thanksgiving with you and the boys? He would love to see his uncles and of course, his grandfathers. It would mean a lot to us if you can do this. If not, I can work around the company with him by my side. One day he will inherit what my father built, and I might as well get him to see his own building. Anyways, please let me know what you think. We miss you and the family a lot, see you soon Bruce.”

Dick leaned back into his chair and listened to the recent voicemail [Name] left for Bruce. Her voice rang with some truth while it felt like she was hiding something. He fiddled around with one of Batman’s batarangs thinking about the woman. They haven’t seen her or Jay in two years. He had to have missed something in her voice message. He knows it.

Dick leaned forward and pressed play on the voicemail, listening to it for the fifth time this afternoon.

“I am moving back into Gotham due to some company issues.”

This part alone made no sense to him. If his memory serves him right, Bruce and [Name] came to an agreement that he would watch over the [L.Name] Industry allowing her to live her life with Jay. Bruce never mentioned any “company issues” that she brought up in the call. Then again Bruce has Lucius to run Wayne Enterprise, so maybe Bruce neglected her company due to his commitment to being Batman. Although, that still made no sense because [F.Name] and Bruce had a great partnership.

[Name]’s dad knew who Bruce truly was in the night thus granting Lucius to work very closely with one another. [F.Name] would create technology that Lucius would then make into gadgets for Batman. After [F.Name] passed away, the plans he had were burned to make sure they didn’t get into the wrong hands. Bruce feared to keep the works [F.Name] worked endlessly on and made sure to get rid of everything he could in his archives.

“Maybe spend Thanksgiving with you and the boys?”

Thanksgiving…that is tomorrow!

“Bruce! Alfred! ” Dick shot up from his chair when the realization hit him. He dressed out of his uniform and into his casual clothing as quickly as he could. Whenever [Name] did drop Jay off for the holidays, she did it the day before so he could spend more time with them.

A million worries were hurdled at his body thinking back to another Wayne that was present in the house. “Jason, if you can hear me from down here!” Dick huffed up the stairs, “Let’s go out for some lunch! I am so hungry!” Was it a lame excuse for his brother-in-arms, yes. But if he had a chance to spare Jason from seeing [Name], he would do it in a heartbeat. Jason doesn’t know he has a kid, let alone a kid with his ex-girlfriend.

When Bruce described the relationship between Jason and [Name], he went on about true love. A happiness he didn’t think would surround him when he watched Jason smile at [Name]. The teasing he would do to the both of them like a real parent. Bruce watched them create a beautiful bond at a young age.

Then when Jason died, Bruce watched the heartbreak crush [Name]’s heart. Dick remembers the conversation between him and Bruce when the news of her pregnancy hit him like a truck.

“She looked at me like I killed him.”

“Bruce, you can’t think like that. [Name] is just hurting, you said so many times. They were meant to be together.”

“She told me that she’s pregnant.”

“W-what? She’s only 16, Jason really- Fuck, what do we do now? We have to support her, you did tell her that right?”

“Of course, I did. She accepted my help and she told me that she wants us to get to know the child. That she still wants to be a part of our family. So I told her that I will send $4000 to her account every month for any expenses she has. She didn’t accept any more and I didn’t agree to any less. I don’t feel right though.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that we get to live and see the child Jason made with [Name]. We get the luxury of knowing his child while he rots in the ground. If he knew, do you think he would have left? If [Name] got to him before the fake letter, would he have stayed?”

“Maybe, but at least we can do right by him and support his family. That’s all we can do for him now. It’s okay to cry, Bruce. Loss shouldn’t be associated with shame.”

He reached the top of the stairs and cringed at the sound of the doorbell ringing throughout the mansion.

As casually as he could, Dick entered the living room and heard the echo of two voices at the entrance of Wayne Manor. He sneaked around the couches and furniture thinking someone at the door would catch him from so far away.

“Who are you hiding from?”

Dick panicked and spun around to see Jason on the couch reading a book. He heard Alfred welcome [Name] into the manor and he knew the old man would lead her to them. With fast thinking, Dick ran over to Jason and shoved his sunglasses onto his face, “Quick! Wear these and this!” Then he stuffed a black face mask into Jason’s book.

“Dick, what-”

“Jason, please!” Dick pleaded and helped put the sunglasses on while Jason reluctantly put the face mask on. Jason wanted to ask more until Alfred walked in with a woman and a child in her arms. Swiftly, Dick pulled Jason’s red hoodie over his head and turned around to greet the visitors.

“[Name], it’s so nice to see you!” Dick shouted and enunciated her name to get it through Jason’s thick skull. He walked over to the woman and gave her a hug mindful of the sleeping child in her arms…wait, what? Jason squinted behind the sunglasses and observed the child some more which Dick fawned over like some lovesick idiot.

“Wow, he’s grown so much,” Dick awed at the sight of the child and gently touched the unruly black hair that reminded him so much of the Wayne boys.

“I’m sorry for the apparent unexpected visit, I did leave a voicemail for Bruce,” [Name] huffed and shifted her child more comfortably in her arms to which Dick reached his arms out to her. Without hesitation, [Name] smiled gratefully and handed her kid over to Dick. She watched Dick whisper to her sleeping son and told him, “We’ve decided to do a road trip instead of flying. Jay insisted that he wanted to see the “world”, but there’s only so much adventure he can handle. He’s going to wake up super excited to see his favorite uncle.”

Dick’s mind blew up as his eyes looked from Jay to [Name] who giggled at his reaction. “You’re kidding, he said that? I’m his favorite uncle?”

Well that confirmed to Jason that the kid is definitely not Dick’s. Honestly he’d be pissed if Dick had a child with his ex-girlfriend. There were so many questions running through his head and he wanted to ask them. But the silent glare he got from Alfred in the corner of the room told him to stay put with not a word.

“Yes, it’s always been you, Dick,” [Name] unwrapped her scarf from her neck and shoulders. Finally her eyes spotted the giant man sitting on the couch adjacent to where her family was at. She observed him quietly and looked down at the book in his gloved hands. Dick nor Alfred introduced the stranger to her, so she took it upon herself to be polite.

“Hello,” She stepped around Dick and reached her hand out with a courteous smile, “My name is [Name] [L.Name].”

Jason closed his book and stood up from the couch. He towered over her and flashbacks of their time together brought longing in his chest. He remembered everything about her from her smile, to her eyes, to her personality. She hadn’t changed one bit. He reached his hand out and shook hers. His tongue twisted and more questions slammed into him.

“This is my friend, Lazlo,” Dick chimed nervously, internally cringing at the fake name he gave Jason.

This piqued [Name]’s interest and she giggled, “Lazlo, that’s a cool name. Can he hear me or speak to me?” She asked, releasing Jason’s hand and quietly whispered the last part over her shoulder to her friend.

Dick shook his head and said, “He’s actually a mute. Anyways what brings you here to Gotham. Don’t say holiday cheer either.” He walked between Jason and [Name] and took a seat next to Jason's closed book. Meanwhile Alfred dismissed himself knowing that Jason will not be able to say a word.

Jason sat back in his seat while [Name] sat on the couch across from them. She visibly relaxed in comfort and sighed tiredly, “My mother wants to force a marriage onto me and like some teenager, I ran away. Plus there are some things I have to do at the company. I wanted to see if you guys are okay with babysitting Jay while I dust the old mansion down the street. Haven’t been there in years.”

She laughed and Dick joined her. He shifted Jay into his lap and said, “Of course, we would be happy to take care of the little one. I, for one, missed him a lot. Is the marriage the reason why we haven’t seen either of you? It seems like a lot.”

[Name] straightened out her back and looked away from his bright blue eyes. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes as she explained a bit more, “Yes, it’s a reason. The marriage is with a business partner. He’s a bit older than me and has spoken about having a family with me. My mother is ecstatic about more grandchildren, but I am not. There is only one person I truly love and that is Jay’s father. I cannot imagine having children with someone else when Jason is still fresh on my mind. And he gave me a brilliant child to cherish in his memory.”

Dick could see Jason tense up at the revelation and saw from the corner of his eyes Jason look at Jay sleeping in his arms. The atmosphere grew heavier by the second and he had to do something. Something to appease Jason’s longing.

“Do you think Lazlo can hold Jay? He knew Jason before his death and-”

“Of course!” [Name] gestured to Jason, with a kind smile on her face, “I’m sorry for your loss, Lazlo. But I’m going to tell you now, Jay looks exactly like his father.” She giggled and Dick looked at Jason with expecting eyes.

Slowly, Jason sat up and hesitantly opened his arms up. He wasn’t ready to hold his child while keeping his emotions bottled up. “You can do this, Lazlo,” Dick’s voice reassured him, “He won’t break in your arms.”

[Name] laughed from her spot and pointed at Dick, “Hey, you were afraid to hold him the first time too!”

Dick shrugged and argued back, “He was a lot smaller back then.” Then he scooted closer to Jason making the transfer a lot easier for the both of them. In his sleep, Jay immediately snuggled up against Jason’s chest surprising the boy’s mother.

“Oh wow,” [Name] awed at the sight, “He normally doesn’t do that. Jay only snuggles into me, I’m kinda jealous he’s doing it with someone else.” She gave Jason a fake pout with a teasing tone in her gentle voice. But all he could focus on was the peaceful look on the child’s face.

This boy is his son.

Jason pulled Jay closer to his body as his chin touched the crown of the boy’s head. Then he felt a lone tear slide down his cheek. Thankfully he wore a face mask and sunglasses to hide his joy. [Name] spoke the truth when she said Jay looked like him. Jay is his mini-me.

“So how many instruments can he play now?” Dick asked.

“He only plays the piano, Dick,” [Name] rolled her eyes playfully, “but he can speak three languages. Sign language being one of them.”

Sign language? Jason thought and picked his head up with interest. He recalls that they learned sign language for fun to talk behind her mother’s back.

“That’s right, I remember you teaching him. Although, I think he flipped me off once.”

“Don’t say that!” [Name] laughed.

“I’m being serious!” Dick shouted back with a smirk on his face.

Jason leaned back into the couch while Jay fit perfectly in his arms. The boy laid on his chest with his legs being held in a gentle, but protective grip. Jay’s head laid onto his shoulder and Jason could hear the soft breaths that left the boy’s lungs. Soon, the voices of [Name] and Dick dissipated and the breathing of his son lulled him to sleep.

Jason would do anything to keep [Name] and Jay to himself. Even if that means revealing himself to them in the near future. For now, he’s comfortable with blissful ignorance.

……

“Mama, can I stay in Mister Lazlo’s arms a bit longer?”

A tiny voice woke Jason from his sleep and he felt small hands clenching the sides of his hoodie. He blinked his weary eyes open and saw the living room in a dark tint. He forgot he wore sunglasses to hide his face along with the face mask.

“Jay, it’s time for dinner. You and Mister Lazlo have slept long enough. You both need to eat. And you don’t want Grandpa or your uncles waiting for long do you?”

“But he feels safe and warm, mama.” Jay mumbled and Jason slowly rose up from the couch, steadying a startled Jay in his hold. He looked down at the child with a funny bedhead and couldn’t help but chuckle at the surprised look on the boy’s face.

[Name] fixed her son’s hair and looked at him lovingly, “See, Mister Lazlo is ready to eat too. Perhaps you can ask if he wants to sit next to you for dinner?” She looked at her son expectantly and the little boy nodded his head. He raised his arms up and sighed to Jason,

“Mister Lazlo, would you sit next to me, fuck you.”

The ending part took Jason and [Name] completely off guard and the mother reacted quickly pushing her son’s hands down to his sides. With a scolding shout, she said, “JJ, where in the world did you learn that?” She gave Jay a hard look and the little boy obviously seemed confused.

“What do you mean, mama? I asked him nicely.” Jay tilted his head to the side in a questioning manner.

“That last sign, isn’t really- It’s a bad word, JJ!” [Name] huffed and softened her look, “Who taught you that and what did they say it meant?”

What Jay answered made sense to Jason, “Uncle Damian said that it meant ‘please’. He said to only use it for them and not you though.”

“So Dick was right when he mentioned you flipped him off,” She rolled her eyes then focused back on her son, “Please, don’t use that anymore, it’s really rude. Use the sign for me as please from now on, understood?”

Jay nodded his head obediently then looked at Jason with bright silver-blue eyes, “Understood, mama. Sorry Mister Lazlo.”

Jason chuckled and shook his head, signing, “It’s okay, you did great. And yes, I would like to sit by you for dinner. As long as you give me any leftovers you have.”

Jay giggled and jumped up signing back, “It’s a deal!” The little boy ran off towards the direction of the kitchen and the adults were left on their own.

“He gets excited to meet new people,” [Name] spoke softly, her eyes warming up talking about her son. “JJ has a heart of gold and he loves everyone he meets like his own family. Especially the Waynes. When his father passed away, I panicked because he wouldn’t have a father figure to be his mentor. Yet Bruce proved me wrong. JJ instantly grew fond of his grandpa and uncles. They all became his father figure, some better than others in different aspects. Speaking of which, I might have to wrestle Damian for teaching Jay that obscene gesture.”

[Name] laughed at the end and looked at Jason for some approval. He quickly signed to her, “We can jump him together. The demon spawn won’t know what will hit him.”

Just like her son, she smiled and said, “It’s a deal.”

#x reader #x female reader #dc imagine #batman imagine #batman #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd #dick grayson

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thanksbutno98 · 1 year ago

Text

Killer

John Price x fem!readerOC

Authors note: Thank you anon who gave me this idea! You’re a true genius and smacked me in the face with inspiration! Immediately started writing this when I saw the prompt, so this week you’re all getting two fics back to back. This is also the first fic I haven’t shied away from Indy’s true personality so I’m sorry if it’s not as inclusive as my other work.

Summary: John Price is scared for his safety after seeing his wife’s fascination with true crime content.

Warning: sexual themes, swearing, mentions or murder, mentions of serial killers, not edited.

——————

John was just walking in to your home after a grueling day of debriefs and meetings. His back was sore from sitting hunched over his desk for so long. It was hard for John getting home much later than he intended; having lost track of time while doing paperwork. You two had a brief phone call where he apologized for missing dinner and you told him it was alright as long as he brought you home a milkshake.

So here John was, milkshake in hand and ready to plop down on the couch next to you. He was hoping to watch a movie and get you to give him a shoulder rub. The lights were already turned down and your two children were tucked into bed fast asleep. After kicking off his boots John quietly made his way to the living room where he could hear you watching tv.

“So was Jack the Ripper really Jane the Ripper? Thats why this case remains, Unsolved.”

John’s ears were just tuning in to whatever you had on the television. Rounding the corner John was greeted with his sweet, loving wife sitting on the edge of your seat completely engrossed in the murder documentary you had found. You had a bin of laundry next to you as you folded your son and daughter’s clothes.

“What are you watching?” John’s deep voice sounded from the doorway of the living room but you didn’t both glancing over at him.

“A documentary about Jack the Ripper. Although, this theory says that it could have been a woman! Makes a lot of sense.” You skipped all the pleasantries being absent minded enough to forget to greet John properly.

“You think it was a woman who did all that?” John asked, rounding the couch and handing you your drink. You said a quiet thank you and shared a quick peck as a way to welcome your husband home.

“Yeah she could’ve been a nurse! Someone who has a medical background but the likelihood of it being a woman is pretty low.” You babbled on about the new information you had just learned, lively waving your hands as you spoke. John was looking at you with a bit of concern as he sat down on the couch, immediately putting his feet up on the coffee table and lounging back.

“Seems like something a man would do.” John said simply shooting down the theory you had just shared with him. Your face dropped at John dismissing the idea so quickly and you gave him a narrowed eyed look before you spoke.

“Yeah that makes sense. Men do suck.” With a shrug you sighed obnoxiously loud trying to get a reaction from your husband.

“Oi, that’s not what I meant! Men are just more likely to commit violent cri-“

You cut John off, already knowing where his tangent was going. You bated him into reacting strongly anyway and weren’t interested in what he had to say. It was more a ploy to get him to chat about the new found topic you had delved into.

“I mean in that era there wasn’t a ton of medical knowledge. Don’t think it was more than my own. If Jane could do it I could’ve done it, if pushed. I have a pretty good understating of the human body being an archeologist and all.” You were back to babbling away excited to have someone to talk to about the subject.

John stopped listening half way through what you were saying. His mind had latched on to one thing in particular and it made his eyebrows shoot up.

“If pushed?” John asked a bit of worry peaking through his stoic features.

“Yeah, I don’t have a ton of medical knowledge. . . but enough I could get away with it. Or at least maybe I could? I think I have more medical knowledge than a nurse back in that time. I’ll have to look into it.” You were rambling at this point.

It was more of you mulling over the ideas than actually taking it all too seriously. You were using John as a sounding board as to what he thought medical knowledge back in the 1880’s was. You’d have to do some more research later. You were a scientist after all asking this question felt natural to you.

The only reason you had started consuming this content was to better yourself on the assignment you were given at work. It was quite an interesting one that happened to be a possible ancient serial killer. One that dated back before Jack the Ripper and far before the term was coined. It had you enthralled and you were becoming lost in your thoughts that you weren’t realizing your husband’s worried expression.

“Darling, I’m stuck on the ‘if pushed’ part. What would push you to that?” John was now siting forward with his elbows resting on his knees. He was so perplexed by you he had to get a better look at you to see if you were alright.

“I don’t know. Would just have to be pushed to it. Like Jane was.” You shrugged and went back to folding laundry.

“Again, pushed how.” John asked a bit more forceful this time. You didn’t have time for John’s silly question you were taking a mental inventory of questions you needed answered to gain a better understanding on the topic.

“John, I don’t know! Just and off hand comment.” You rolled your eyes at your husband. He clearly didn’t understand you were gathering knowledge and he was being weird about it.

“Okay.” John said skeptically. Watching as you grabbed the laundry basket and went to go upstairs.

——————

“Evening, darling.” John walked into the living room to see you already asleep on the couch.

You looked so endearing curled up under the ruby red blanket with an open bag of crisps sitting on the coffee table. There was another basket of laundry neatly folded but tonight it was John and your clothes. It had been another late night on base but you had been sweet enough to pack John dinner in advance so he wouldn’t have to eat the food there.

With a short chuckle and huge smile John walked around the couch to grab the remote and then carry you to bed. Thats when he realized what was playing on the television. John’s head snapped to the television as he stopped in his tracks to actually listen to what was playing. Picking up the remote he paused Netflix to see you were watching ‘The Ted Bundy Tapes.’

A shiver run up John’s spine at how this of all things could be something you fell asleep to. John’s mind wandered back to the conversation from a few nights ago. Where you said you could commit murder ‘if pushed.’ John was still rattled to hear you say that and now he was starting to see a pattern in what you were watching.

John joked to Ghost once if he didn’t show up to work he was buried in the backyard because he finally pissed you off enough. But now maybe his joke was coming to fruition. John was catching you in the planning phase. No! John shook the thought from his head. You were just weird or something. The murder documentaries weren’t you planning to off him. Right?

John ignored the nagging in his head and chalked it up to his over active mind due to work. Of course he’d be thinking that way after being double crossed after his latest deployment. It made sense to be skeptical of people but not you. You were his person, it was just a weird hyper fixation or something. He knew you could be that way especially after your deep dive into animal planet last year. Don’t even get him started when you discovered The Great British Bake Off that was brutal.

With a deep sigh John turned off the television and placed the remote on the coffee table. Turning back to you he was ready to scoop you up and carry you to bed. Only when he turned to get you, you were sitting up straight as a board, wide eyed, staring straight into his soul.

“Fuck!” John tripped backward and landed with his ass flat on the coffee table. Thank god it was a sturdy piece of furniture as John now sat on it and took a sharp breath.

“You scared me!” You half gasped at John, left hand now clutching your t-shirt over your heart.

“Scared you? Fuck, darling. I-mean. Sorry, you spooked me too. Was going to carry you to bed.” John hunched over and took a breath.

Clearly your new fascination with murder documentaries was getting to John. Or maybe it was the fact he was still so rattled from his last deployment and how he was so blatantly double crossed. Either way he needed to get a grip.

“Well, a free lift sounds pretty nice.” You said sweetly leaning over and wrapping your arms around John’s neck.

You saw that he was a little freaked out and knew how he’d been on edge since coming home. So, you ran your fingers through his hair and whispered sweet nothings in his ear to help calm him. John let out a sigh of relief feeling your comforting embrace and felt himself relax. He was just being paranoid.

“How about a free ride?” John flirted breathlessly, pulling you closer so you were now sitting in his lap.

“And you call me a minx. Get on the couch soldier. I’ll help clear your head.”

——————

Today was the final straw John had convinced himself he was your target. While you were cooking a quick snack for yourself with your air pods in John glanced at your phone to see what you were listening to. He was expecting one of your audio books or music. What he was not expecting was a true crime podcast of the most renowned serial killers.

Thats how John found himself down in the basement where your office was while you were distracted making yourself a late night snack. He didn’t mean to snoop. Fuck it, he meant to snoop. You had been shut in your office a lot more than usual and John needed to know why.

Now that he was here he hated what he saw. You had detailed notes of serial killers and on top of it all you were mapping out ancient tools that could commit similar crimes. You even had a detailed plan on how said tools could be used to carry out serial murders. John wasn’t sure what he did to have you planning to off him but now he was officially worried. The thought you planned to do it with an artifact felt like he had woken up in a horror novel.

John tried to tell himself he was just paranoid and should ask you what the sudden fascination was about. You definitely had a reasonable explanation. Then the idea of you knowing he was on to you popped into his head. So, John decided to snoop and bring up the topic once he had enough evidence.

Thats when your office door was kicked open with so much force it smacked into the stone wall. John was so engrossed in the horrors in front of him he about jumped out of his skin.

“AH! I saw nothing!” John yelled as you walked into your office, grilled cheese and soda in hand. You didn’t mean to send the door flying and startle your husband. You were only trying to open it with your foot and kicked it a little too hard.

“What?” You asked confused. You looked utterly perplexed as you stood in the doorway. There was no reason your husband should be in your office right now.

“You’re going to off me, aren’t you? I finally drove you mad.” John said in a deadly serious tone. John watched as your upper lip twitched in annoyance and brows furrowed.

“Again. What?” You asked, your tone short due to your confusion and frustration that John was intruding on your space.

John saw this as guilt.

Walking over to the opposite end of the table as your cleary agitated husband you gave him a look, silently asking him to explain himself. John knew how much you hated when anyone went into your office without your permission. Let alone rummage through your things like he had done.

Placing your plate and canned soda down you took a bite of the buttery grilled cheese and waited for John to spit out what ever was clearly bugging him. You were a bit annoyed he was in your office let alone rifling through your work; and accusing you of planning on offing him. Did you even hear him right? You liked to think he was in here for a good reason so you waited for him to include you on his reasoning.

“This!” Johns muscular arm came up to show you your own notes.

“Yeah?” You stared blankly at the detailed findings of your work already knowing what was written in your journal. Without a word you took another bite of your sandwich which seemed to aggravate your husband more.

“Researching ways to murder and dismember people. And how to get away with it?” John tossed your journal onto the long wooden table that was your old dinning room table before you replaced it with the one that currently sat upstairs. You glanced around the room seeing if he had his phone propped up somewhere to record him pranking you or something.

“Again, John. Yeah?” The discussion and annoyance was not getting between you and your food as you continued to eat.

“Stop bloody, eating. Why are you detailing ways to murder someone!? And we sure as hell know it’s going to be me. You’ve already tried once.” John snapped at you.

With a dead pan expression you kept eye contact with the 6’2 Brit and aggressively took another bite silently telling him to ‘fuck off.’ Him saying you tried to kill him once was completely untrue, it was just a miscommunication not attempted murder. Although, clearly John thought you wanted him dead.

“Because I’m looking into what could be an ancient serial killer. For work! So what better way to learn than to figure out what modern day killers tactics are and go backwards.” After you spoke you took the final bite of one half of your sandwich and then cleaned your hands off with your napkin.

Tossing it on the table you placed your hands on your hips as silence enveloped the room. You and John never broke eye contact as the accusatory look washed off his face and was replaced with a look of regret, almost bashful. John was drawing a blank as your words sunk in.

“Oh.” John broke the silence. With a quirked eyebrow you crossed your arms over your chest and popped your hip out to the side.

“Really think I’m gonna off you?” You asked with an annoyed yet amused smirk.

“No.” John was clearly trying to hide the fact he was lying. People trying to take his life at work so frequently was messing with his head.

“You’re not convincing.” You told him with a scoff.

“You’re smart enough to pull it off. You’re kind of scary. Even you said the other night you have enough medical knowledge. Plus-” John smacked his finger on the page that your journal was open to.

“You have a detailed plan of a murder written down.” John was now trying to explain himself as if that would help the situation. You couldn’t help but laugh at how utterly ridiculous he was.

“You’re scared of me?” It was suppose to be a playful remark but it got under John’s skin. You could tell by the way his lip twitched and eyes narrowed. You were slowly stalking over to him as if he were prey and you the hunter. It was a game to you now, you wanted to see how much you could make the big, strong, Captain Price squirm.

“No.” John said sternly, taking the smallest step away as you approached him.

“Liar.” You confidently blurted out then laughed with a giant grin on your face.

It was a rare moment when John was being the irrational one. The only other time he got like this was when you polished the stairs and forgot to tell him. Claiming you were trying to kill him as he laid at the bottom of the stairs. You did truly feel bad as you watched your husband fall down the stairs all the way from the top step. He still hadn’t let it go and brought it up to guilt trip you at times.

“Okay a little” John gave in.

It was mainly your intelligence that spooked him at times. John still didn’t understand how your brain worked so fast and how complex problems for the average person was child’s play for you. Your first murder attempt almost worked but John did have to admit your stairs had never looked so good.

“Good boy. I’ll make sure it’s painless then.” You whispered the last sentence and placed a chaste kiss to John’s cheek.

“What!” John’s head snapped to look at you who was now laughing at his strong reaction.

“I’m joking” The words were lighthearted as your wrapped your arms around John’s waist and gave him a squeeze.

“Good.” John grumbled, placing a quick kiss to the top of your head. That was a relief, at the very least. One of his arms wrapped around your shoulder as he gazed down at you.

“Still, it’s good to be on your toes, Captain. Head on a swivel and all.” You teased, chin resting on his toned chest.

“Darling.” John warned completely unamused with your teasing.

“Kidding. I’ll only kill you if you cheat.” You sealed the words by placing a kiss to his chest and then giving him a pat to his bottom.

“Then I’m in the clear. Thank god.” John said with a chuckle and eye roll.

“Good boy. Now get out of here because this-“ you gestured to your notes and work that were now all out of order and disorganized since John riffled through it.

“Is an ‘if pushed’ scenario.” You whispered seductively yet the threat was evident in your words.

“Right. Won’t go through your work again.” John nodded with a tight lipped smile becoming slightly anxious you were about to snap at him.

“Mhm hm.” You shook your head with a mischievous smile, happy your husband was back to his normal self.

You watched as John made his way to exit your office taking a moment to admire his ass. He was about to leave, not before stealing the other half of your sandwich.

“Put it down!” You called after John only for him to turn, shoot you a wink, and take a massive bite. This was his form of payback for you teasing him. This was also a quality John had adopted in fatherhood, a knack for stealing everyone’s food guilt free.

“Get back here.” You squealed chasing after your husband as he took off with the rest of your sandwich.

~~~~~tag list~~~~~

@exhaustedpotat0 @glitterypirateduck @ivymarquis @crazymela @what-0-life @boredfairy4 @hihhasotherfixations @stephanswhxre @shanjisan @k4es @luvleywrites @kita03-0 @midwesternwitchery @aleynaleia @suckerforbassist @misshoneypaper @theaonlax @blackstar9005 @tooterbutt @havoc973 @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @freshlemontea @cosmoscoffeee @sae1kie @ohworm-writes @ghostslittlegf @fanficwriterlover @arminarlertssword @faceache111 @azu21 @thirstyb-ches @nini-11-08 @sgtgarrick

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guesswhoisofftheirmedsagain · 29 days ago

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TW: character implied to have the desired to commit suic*de. (It’s very brief, but stay safe, ok?)

Found this lurking in the notes app, also technically warning for kidnapping (but like, to save him from himself yk)

In short, Kon from an alternative universe finds a new, seeming unloved Tim, and is all like “ima love that one”. Turns out, that Tim was loved, (the Batfam was apparently just really, really bad at showing it, and his Kon very much misunderstood what Tim wanted) and they all fight over him.

Full post (with warnings applied) below:

Kon from an alternate universe loses his Tim, and hops multiverses until he can find a Tim similar to his Tim. He was never able to confess his love to his Tim, so he will find a Tim who needs loving and love that one. (He is great at this whole grief thing, why do you ask?) He impulsively kidnaps Tim after talking to him, and well Tim goes along with it because he wasn’t planning on staying much longer anyway.

Dark!Fam Tim is alone, he always has been. His teammates don’t talk to him, hell they don’t even text him. He was planning on ending it all that night, nobody would notice he was gone. At least until his body was found probably weeks, if not months later. That was until Kon showed up at his nests balcony. This Kon looked off, he didn’t know how to describe it. They hung out for a while, and Tim slowly loosened up. After more than a few drinks, Tim ended up telling Kon about his plan to die that night, and how he was happy he could talk to his friend one last time. Kon basically says “nuh uh” and takes Tim to his dimension with a device that he had bc plot.

Tim and Kon are living happily ever after (not really, Tim is trying to find a way back to his home dimension, but can’t help but fall in love bit by bit each day with Kon, real Beauty and the Beast vibes)

Unlike what he predicted, someone does notice he’s gone, immediately. It was Kon, of their universe. Kon might not have really talked to any of the Bats or birds in a while, but he still listens to their heart beats. He likes listening to Tim’s, because even if they haven’t talked in a while (Kon was respectful of the space Tim so obviously wanted) he still wanted to make sure he was safe. Kon laying in bed, playing a game when he heard it. Or technically, a lack of hearing something. Tim’s heartbeat, it was gone, it was always there, a low ring in his head that he never tried to tune out, it was gone. It didn’t fade slowly, just abruptly stopped, disappearing into nothingness just like that. Kon found himself flying to Gotham, forget the No Metas rule, something was wrong, and he was going to find out what.

We end up with two Kon’s fighting over Tim, maybe they rip him in half in the process, or maybe they learn to share? Who knows, I definitely don’t. There is also a very clingy Batfam (the one that lost their Tim) who wants to snatch him up, and Tim’s original BatFam who wants him back. They are all competing for Tim’s love and affectionate, and Tim is 95% sure it’s all fake, they just pity him, and he’s 98% sure the they are all actively trying to kill him. He’s very confused, he’s never had this much attention in his life.

#timkon #kontim #tim drake x kon el #tim drake #kon el #dark batfamily #batfamily #dimension travel

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ecoterrorist-katara · 1 year ago

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Katara would’ve been such a good diplomat (it’s canon)

everyone rightfully hates on the ATLA comics because the politics are baffling and the characterization is even more so…but if there’s one thing we can take away from the dumpster fire that is The Promise, it’s that Katara was BORN to be a diplomat and an international force for peace, okay? Especially since her besties, the Avatar and the Fire Lord, aren’t actually very good at this.

If you haven’t read The Promise, the Wikipedia summary is pretty good. The TL;DR is that Zuko and Kuei agree that the Fire Nation colonies need to be returned to the Earth Kingdom. The colony of Yu Dao is not happy about this because the people of the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom have been mixing together (under inequitable conditions) for more than a hundred years and “just kick out the Fire Nation” is not as straightforward as it seems, since there are blended families now. Zuko refuses to kick out the Fire Nation people from Yu Dao, Kuei wants to play hardball, and they almost launch another war. Oh and there’s a weird plot about Aang debating whether to put Zuko down like a rabid dog

For all that the Wiki page does a good job of summarizing the events, it forgets some key facts:

It’s Katara who first starts thinking about new solutions after witnessing the situation on the ground, and then comes up with the idea that Zuko and Kuei should meet and talk about the colonies:

It’s Katara who tells Kuei that Zuko has legitimate concerns (without saying that Zuko is right), when Aang tries to hedge and sugarcoat the truth:

And it’s Katara who says to Kuei, wait, what the hell do you mean that you have no idea what your people want, that Yu Dao is just a dot on the map for you? We’re getting you out of this stupid blimp and you’re gonna talk to people before you make a decision that affects their lives, you coward

To recap, Katara demonstrates some pretty freaking key political skills, like:

finding out what people want before making a decision for them

seeing people as people first and foremost, not as fire nation or earth kingdom

encouraging her loved ones, the Avatar and the Fire Lord, to resolve a conflict by beginning negotiations instead of brawling like a couple of drunks at a bar / kids on the playground (both analogies fit btw, 13-17 is a weird combination of ages)��

realistically reporting tricky disagreements without sweeping them under the rug

kidnapping a king to the middle of a battlefield to give him a reality check about listening to the people he’s trying to rule

Anyway, Katara is hyper competent at both war AND peace! We see this in the show, with her compassion for the prisoners of the Earth Kingdom (by inciting a prison riot) and the suffering people of the Fire Nation (by committing ecoterrorism), only now that compassion is backed up not only by her fighting prowess and speeches about hope, but actual ability to manipulate the levers of power.

And have I mentioned that she has the ears of both the Avatar and the Fire Lord and her dad is Chief of the Southern Water Tribe? Even if Katara didn’t get a diplomat position based on her skills, or her status as a war hero, she could nepo baby her way in. The fact that she does not pick up a career in international diplomacy is a crime & a colossal oversight from the creators. At minimum you know Katara would’ve established Healers Without Borders or something. She deserves to be yelling at people at ATLA UN and then drafting world-changing resolutions.

And as a bonus, Katara demonstrates her gift for diplomacy by not smacking Zuko up the head for attempting to legitimize colonization through the argument of economic progress…

…and by not smacking Aang up the head for seriously considering anti-miscegenation as a viable political solution:

This patience is a new development because show!Katara did not have this in her, but maybe this is what growing up is all about and not just yet another strike on the “comics are wildly OOC” tally

TL;DR: ATLA boys lost their brain cells post-canon. All hail Katara, Sugar Queen of international diplomacy.

#Katara #Katara deserved better #atla comics #Chief Katara of the Water Tribes #United Republic Councilwoman Katara #Ambassador Katara #I’m not picky which one she becomes I just want her to exert political power as a principled and fair and compassionate representative #She saved the world it’s only fair she gets to run it especially since unlike most nepo babies (ie monarchy) she’s qualified #pro Katara #atla #my meta

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portgasdwrld · 2 years ago

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📂 Op men + flirty reader

Featuring: Monster trio + Ace

Warning: suggestive, fluff otherwise 🫧

Gender neutral reader ✨

Luffy

Luffy was most of the time not even aware of your flirting with him until he noticed Nami and Robin chuckling in the corner faced to your defeated expression. He would look at them confused and back at you who was now pouting. He would probably ask you directly to explain what you meant …

-No, you reply with a pout as you dive into the delicious food, after your love interest asked you to repeat what you said.

-Ahhh, why not ?Come on tell meee, I wanna laugh too!

- You can be so dumb sometimes omg, you grumble annoyed.

Luffy just complimented your new outfit and you thought it would be amusing to reply with something flirty and you did. You told him you would look better without it if he wanted to take care of it.

He didn’t even listen to you as he was devouring his plate (literally). So you just stood there astonished and sat down to eat in defeat.

Zoro

He’s either ignoring you and blushing, or snapping back and blushing.

Zoro have been working out as usual, nothing at all special for you or the others. But you loved watching him, it was the way his tan body was glistening from his sweat and the warm heat of the sun, that just does it for you. His muscles flexing and his exhausted facial expression >

-Enjoying the view?, he finally snaps after you have been watching him for over an hour with now a refresher from Sanji. He was wiping his sweat away with a towel as he glared at you.

You sip from your drink and squint your eyes at him as a smirk curve your lips.

-Why? Am I making it hard for you to focus ?

You reply while sustaining the eye contact with him.

-I wasn’t expecting to have spectators, if you ask me.

He retorts while lying down ready to bench press again.

- It’s hard not to, when you are attractive like that.

You continue. He didn’t reply and only mumbled a “pervert” under his breath. Tho, you saw the way he blushed and smirked, but tried to hid it by continuing his workout.

Sanji

Flirting with Sanji is like personally trying to kill his poor heart. You say something and his head is already 10 steps ahead and suddenly he’s imaging having a family with you and dying together in the name of love. Yeah because he’s that dramatic and committed when it comes to love.

“Sanji, you always look so neat and classy. I live for it, it makes a change from the usual crusty pirates i used to bump into.” you sigh as you lean over the kitchen table, your hands cupping your smiling face.

That’s it, hearing those words from your beautiful mouth sent him to heaven just there. His cigarette falls in the water where he was washing the dishes and with heart eyes he turns his body to you. Seeing your smile and mischievous eyes, almost made his heart stop (or mouth drool-).

-Y/N-SWAAAN. IM SO GLAD YOU APPRECIATE IT~

You chuckle from his reaction as he grabbed your hands. You take the chance and liberate one hand to pat his blonde hair.

-You’re adorable, you reply with a giggle.

…Sanji haven’t recovered yet from this :/

Ace

It turns into a competition. Who can make the other one the most flustered. He always considered himself pretty flirty and confident in his skills, but when he met you, he met his rival. It just get shameless at some point and the others have to sometimes tell y’all to take it to close door…

After a long day on a mission, the crew had decided to throw a little party on the boat to cheer everyone up. Games were being played and you obviously decided to take part of it. It was going well until someone dared you to kiss Ace on his cheek. The freckled man slightly blushed and took a sip of his sake while shrugging his shoulders when you asked if he was fine with it.

-Anyway I will make it quick and sweet, or maybe I can go slow if that’s what you’re into?

You sheepishly say as you get close to him to complete your dare under the eyes of your curious crewmates.

-We’re still talking about a cheek-kiss here ?

He smirks while raising one of his eyebrow. You bow down a little to his level and placed your lips in front his ear, slightly brushing it.

-Well, maybe not.

-If you wanna fuck, you can just say that.

He just blurs out making everyone gasp. You grin and give him your most innocent facial expression before quickly pecking his cheeks.

- Come on, I’m not that easy.

My first time writing for one piece. Woop. Hope y’all liked it! Let me know🫶🏻

#op zoro #one piece zoro #zoro smut #zoro headcanons #zoro fluff #sanji fluff #op sanji #one piece sanji #luffy x reader #luffy fluff #portgas d ace #portgas ace x you #portgas ace smut #one piece #sanji #ace smut #one piece headcanons

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555aturn · 2 months ago

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Whispers of Zaun⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

chapter two

chapter one if you haven’t read it

summary- Sevika leaves before dawn, offering no explanation, leaving the shopkeeper to puzzle over her own expectations before seeking distraction in the rhythms of her daily work. But when Silco appears with unexpected gratitude and Sevika later returns under his orders, an unspoken tension begins to form—one that lingers even as a late-night tarot reading hints at a future bound by choices she may not be ready to make.

warnings-talks of death (again nothing graphic) mentions illness and grief and I think that's it!

words- 2.14k

a/n- yay! I committed and wrote another one. jk I love writing this lol. HELLA SEVIKA in this chapter annnnnd smut in the next one (unfortunately not sevika x reader...yet this is gonna be a slow burn y'all) but I'm thinking witchy!reader brothel scene for chapter 3 anyone?? okay enjoy pls comment if u like it or dislike.

minors don’t enter!!!

I wanted to wake up extra early so I could assist Sevika this morning, but when I walked through the beaded curtain…She was gone. I scoffed to myself. Of course she left. I don't know why I thought she would stay. Or accept my help. I know people have mixed feelings on my beliefs and what I do here in my shop, but she came to me.

So naturally I am confused. But nonetheless, it’s less stuff on my hands, so I put some food and water into Hex’s bowls and go back to my room to get dressed.

I decided on a black corset top—very Zaun chic and one of my flowy skirts. Of course, all of my rings and at least two necklaces. I throw salt over my shoulder and walk out of my shop to get some breakfast. Since I’m up.

I make the short walk to Jericho’s. “Hey big man, how are you this fine morning?” I asked Jericho. He grumbled, “Good.” I nodded. “That’s wonderful. Are you serving breakfast?” He nodded with a smile. “Awesome, may I have your breakfast burrito bowl, please? Thank you!” I handed him the change and sat on one of his stools.

After a marvelous breakfast, I walked back to the shop and started lighting my candles.

An hour has gone by since opening. I resorted to reading one of my novels on my sofa. Until the bell rang, I got up and dusted myself off and froze. It was Silco himself. He never came to the shop. Only that very first day he took charge and marked me down as one of his allies—not by choice.

“Silco, what can I do for you this morning?”

I say obviously on edge as I lace my fingers behind my back.

“Dear, is it true Sevika came by last night?” He said in his usual smooth tone.

“Yes, she did, and she was bleeding pretty badly. I patched her up and let her sleep on my sofa, but she got up and left before I woke up.” I said quickly. He nodded.

“I deeply appreciate you taking her in; she’s recovering well because of you. Thank you.” It felt odd hearing Silco, one of the most feared men of Zaun, thanking me for something. “Well, it is what you signed me up for.” I said, and he chuckled.

“Would you like some tea?” I asked. He nodded no. “Sorry dear, I have something to take care of… I just wanted to thank you for your services because they did not go unnoticed. Have a good one.” And with that, he left.

By midday, the shop is alive with visitors. A factory worker limps in, knuckles split. "Damn pipes snapped again." I tut at him, already reaching for a salve. "You should quit." He snorts. "You paying my bills, then?" I chuckled.

A few coins clatter on the counter. I shook my head but handed him the remedy anyway.

Later, an old woman stops by, speaking in hushed tones about how her grandson has been coughing since the last factory fire. I listen closely. Zaun breathes poison, and its people have learned to live with it—but that doesn't mean I will let it go unanswered.

I prepared a mixture, pressing the bottle into the woman's hands. "One drop in his tea."

The old woman nods, tucking it away. “Thank you, dear.” And with that, she left.

By the afternoon, the shop had seen its usual mix of visitors. I sell a few poisons, read two tarot spreads, and get the full rundown from Seraphine about her date.

Apparently, it went perfectly, which means I'll be hearing about this man every time she visits—until he inevitably disappoints her.

As the shop quiets down, I take a moment to tidy the shelves, rearranging bottles and bundles of dried herbs. The scent of lavender and citrus lingers in the air, a fleeting comfort against the ever-present weight of Zaun.

Hex watches from her perch, tail flicking lazily, as if amused by the steady rhythm of my work. The quiet never lasts long, though.

The bell above the door jingles, and I expect another regular—or maybe Seraphine again, already overanalyzing her date. But when I step out from behind the counter, I find myself face-to-face with Sevika.

She stands in the doorway, towering over me, with the same guarded expression I’ve come to expect from her. Her usual confidence is slightly muted, as if something about this visit makes her uncomfortable.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon,” I remark, raising an eyebrow as I wipe my hands on my skirt.

Sevika grunts, shifting on her feet. “Silco sent me. He thinks I should thank you properly for patching me up last night.” She crosses her arms, clearly not thrilled by the idea.

I nod, stepping forward and giving her a once-over. “You don’t look like you need another round of bandages, so what does ‘thank you’ look like in your world?”

She looks at me, unamused. “I don’t know, lady, but I’m here. What else do you want me to do?”

I chuckle under my breath. “Sit down. Tea, maybe? Or would you rather just stand here in silence and watch me acknowledge your shitty ‘thank you’?" I said with a light, bitter tone. But to my surprise, Sevika sat down on my sofa and just mumbled something.

“I’m sorry I didn’t quite catch that. What is it?” I said, leaning over her, my necklaces dangling slightly. “I said you better not poison me, and I ain’t stayin long.” Sevika said with an equally bitter attitude. Except I think she really means hers.

“What would you like? I have many herbs and flowers I can brew into tea for you.” I said, stepping back now and looking at her, waiting for an answer.

“I don’t want any flowery shit; get me something normal… please.” Sevika grumbled. It took all of my being not to let out a quiet gasp; I can’t believe Sevika of all people had any manners. I thought it was just Ran.

“I got just the thing.” And with that I went behind my counter to rummage through my bags of herbs. I had the perfect combination of herbs. It’s a lemon balm and ginger pack. The vibes just give Sevika to me.

I go behind my beaded curtain to boil the kettle of water. I decided to go back out there with her while I waited.

To my complete utter surprise, Hex was purring at Sevika’s boots, some very dirty boots at that. “Wow, Hex seems to like you; she usually hisses at every customer that walks in here. I am shocked.”

Sevika just scoffs. “Am I supposed to care?” She rolled her gray eyes at me. “No, but you can pretend since this is you coming here to ‘properly thank me.” I bit back. Before Sevika could respond, the kettle started to whistle, and I rushed back behind the curtain.

I came back out with two steaming mugs and hesitantly sat on the sofa next to her, at a distance, of course. But it isn’t the biggest piece of furniture considering I got it from a small business in Zaun, and now that I look at her, Sevika is a whole fucking unit; she took up almost half the whole couch.

“Here you go, careful it’s hot.” I handed her the mug. Sevika just sat there holding the mug while manspreading an insane amount. How can one person spread their legs so wide? Not that it matters…Of course.

I brought my own mug up to my lips and blew into it, hoping to cool off the liquid so I could drink it. The silence was so thick and awkward it started to make my mind race. Seeing Sevika here is so odd for a number of reasons. First off, she never comes here. I think the other night when she was bleeding might have been her third time altogether. And she is a complete traitor to Vander, and she knew I was one of his good friends, and she just shows up here in the middle of the damn night expecting me to patch her up. Well, that is the end of the deal I have with Silco, but still.

A small slurp from beside me takes me out of my thoughts. Sevika was drinking the tea.

“Do you like it?” I ask as I take a sip from my own mug. Sevika nodded. “I actually do.” Pride swells in my tummy, dancing with the flavors of the herbs from my tea. “Good.” I said simply. After another minute or two, Sevika chugs the remaining liquid, sets the mug on my side table, and stands up.

“Thank you.” She said, dusting her flesh hand and mechanic hand on her leather pants, and left, walking out the door, bell jingling as she did so.

I just sat there and stared at the mug she left on the table, stained with the black lipstick that adorned her lips. I stare at the mug for a moment longer, tracing the shape of the smudged lipstick with my eyes. Strange, how something as simple as a stain could make Sevika feel more... real. Less like Silco's enforcer, more like someone who sat in my shop, drank my tea, and however begrudgingly thanked me for it.

Hex leaps onto the table, sniffing at the mug before promptly knocking it over with a flick of her paw. I sigh, shaking my head as I stand to clean up the mess.

The shop is quiet again, but the air feels different, like something has shifted.

Whether that's a good thing or a dangerous one, I haven't decided yet.

Before I can dwell on it, the bell jingles again—another customer, another distraction.

Business never stops in Zaun, and neither do I.

The day went by slowly after that. But it has finally come to its end. After I close up the shop and clean, I decide to do a tarot reading on myself.

The shop is quiet again. Just me, Hex curled up on the counter, and the weight of lingering thoughts pressing against my chest. I exhale and shuffle my tarot deck. It's been a while since I pulled for myself. Maybe it's the quiet, but something makes me feel like I need clarity.

I drew three cards. Past. Present. Future.

The Past: The Five of Pentacles

A card of loss. Of struggle. I swallow hard.

I know what this is about before I even let my eyes fully rest on it. Zaun is a city of ghosts, and I’ve lost my fair share to it. Vander, Powder, Vi. Pieces of my life were taken by fire and smoke, leaving me with nothing but empty space. Even now, I feel the cold weight of it—absence, grief, the quiet echo of what used to be.

I move on.

The Present: Strength (Reversed)

Not a bad card. Not exactly a good one, either. Strength reversed speaks of inner battles, of restraint turned to self-doubt. It whispers that I’ve been holding something back—whether it's my emotions, my instincts, or something deeper, I don’t know.

I think of Sevika, of the way she grumbled through her tea and left without much fuss. A simple ‘thank you,’ nothing more. But the way she lingered, the way her hands rested on her thighs before she stood—it wasn’t hesitation, not exactly. But it wasn’t nothing either.

I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth and flip the last card.

The Future: The Lovers (Reversed)

I pause.

The Lovers is a card of connection, choices, and bonds that tangle together whether you want them to or not. But reversed, it carries a different weight—uncertainty, imbalance, something forming that neither side is ready for. It isn’t doom, but it isn’t simple either.

I frown, running my thumb over the edge of the card.

A forced connection, a choice that wasn’t truly mine to make—Silco’s influence looms over me more than I like to admit. Could this be about him? Or is it about something else? Something… someone.

I push the thought aside.

Hex stretches, tail flicking lazily as she watches me with her sharp yellow eyes. “What do you think, little terror?” I ask her, holding up the reversed Lovers card. She meows, unimpressed, and promptly knocks it off the table.

I huff out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s about right.”

Still, as I gather the cards and shuffle them back into the deck, the image lingers in my mind.

A bond that shouldn’t make sense. A choice I might not be ready for.

And the feeling that, somehow, it’s already been set in motion.

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rodolfoparras · 6 months ago

Note

I've been staying quiet about how much I love cheating tropes and I'm so happy to see someone talk about. I just like the idea of a bit of a taboo sex ok? And I have so many scenarios I love and either want to write about or did write about.

Having a big strong "straight" (but not really) dude ride you while he's on the phone with his girlfriend/wife? Delicious. Or even better honestly, eating him out while poor little thing is trying his best to stay quiet. Him whining and crying and breathing heavily all while he's trying to sound normal...

Teasing him and playfully degrading him while fucking him, telling him you'll breed him and knock him up and how will be explain *that* to his wife? Coming over and spending time with him, acting like you're just close friends or coworkers while having dinner with him and his wife. And he is squirming the entire time because he's full of your cum and still sore sensitive-

But also since I'm such a switch and can't help thinking of the scenario that's other way around- sleeping with boyfriend's/husband's dad and/or brother and letting him know just how much better they are at keeping me satisfied 🤭 Him calling and me being all like "Sorry babe, your dad's keeping me busy teehee"

Or orrrrr- him being part of a sports team and being out of commission for whatever reason and one day he gets a video and it's just me having fun with his coach and teammates 👀

ANYWAYS- let's pretend like I don't love this trope as much as I do

-🔮

WHEN WRE WE GOING TO SEE THESE PIECES POSTED PLEASE I NEED THEM ALL

or of course the insanity that is your sister husbands pining after you, her younger brother

He’s liked ypu ever since he saw you at a club or some caffe but he never managed to get your number and the very next day he met your sister and things started snowball into the wrong direction til he got stuck in a. Commited relationship with her so now the sweet thing jerks off to whatever picture you send to your sister because you just want to update her on your life and he goes absolutely insane when you come to visit, hogging your personal space and pretending this is what it means being close with your brother in law, or even sneaking downstairs after his wife has fallen asleep just to hang out with you because he knows you’re sleeping on the couch for the night probably in only your boxers and hopefully no shirt, who will blatantly check you out while you watch some movie playing on the tv, or how he will be a sick little pervert and listen in when you’re jerking off, getting himself off at the same time, or going tense when you mention meeting some guy and now he’s interrogating you like crazy because who is he why haven’t you mentioned him before and you cant understand why he’s so obsessed with the random dude who will do anything to prevent you from going on the date but of course you’ll end up going anyway so he’ll wait up for you maybe with a few drinks in your system and you’re confused as ever wondering why he up, but you don’t get to think much more before he smashes your lips together, mutters the word slut between each kiss because how dare you see somebody who isn’t him

#alec answers #🔮 anon

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the1975attheirverybest · 1 year ago

Text

Boyfriend

A/N: as requested by @yukizaldi. Sorry it’s kind of shit. I haven’t written in a bit and I feel like I’ve forgotten how words work. warnings: smut. **** It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that every committed boyfriend, must, sooner or later, have the period routine down. And Matty fancied himself an expert. As much of an expert as a heterosexual man who has never had a period can be, anyway. He took pride in his system. He kept track. He remembered the flowers and the chocolate. He refilled hot water bottles without being asked, kept the pain killers on hand, happily drove to the drugstore, or ice cream shop, to get tampons and sugary desserts. His strategy was always to get ahead of things before they could happen. Have everything she could possibly need within her reach, so she’d never feel the need to even ask. All that left is the cuddles and Lowe stomach rubs. That part wasn’t restricted to bad period days, though. Matty always eagerly provided that.

But, one thing he learned the hard way was that, even for a biological reoccurrence that took place every month for decades of a woman’s life, a menstrual cycle can, not only be unpredictable, but make her unpredictable, too.

“Take off your pants.” She panted, into his mouth, kissing him, and biting his lip.

He mewled, softly, his hands fumbling with the buttons of his jeans. He didn’t get very far before his hands were crushed by the weight of her hips rolled against his, pushing him against the wall.

“B-baby….s-slow down.”

“Shush, Matty. Please. No talking. Just fucking. Okay? I- I’ve been waiting for you all day.”

And how could he not be flattered that his girlfriend wants to jump his bones the very second that he walks through the door?

She got down on her knees, her hands pushing his out of the way and pulling down his waist hugging pants.

She rubbed his clothed, half hardened cock, listening for his hissing and reveling in the slight bucking of his hips. She felt her mouth watering at the prospect of having him between her lips.

“Gonna take you out now…”

Matty nodded, eager, cursing, hotly, under his breath. “Christ.”

Slowly, her hand wrapped around him, working him with deft flicks of her wrist, until he was stiff, ready to burst against his own stomach.

She took him in her mouth, her tongue rubbing the underside of his tip while her hand tugged lightly on his balls.

“FUCK!” Matty’s legs shook; his palm slammed against the wall in an attempt to steady himself, his hips reflexively. Thrusting into her mouth. “Sh-shit. Sorry…”

She didn’t seem to mind, though, her lips smiles around his cock. The sight so sinful it almost undid him right then and there. Encouraged by his moans, she moved faster, sucking him harder, to the rhythm of his flustered cries and the contracting and relaxing of the muscles in his stomach.

“No, no, no- stop, stop.” Matty begged, frantic. “If- if you don’t stop, I’m- not gonna make it to the bedroom.” His face turned red.

***

Matty winced, feeling her grind into his lap. Their lips crashed together, needily, as his hands felt around for the hem of her top. She let him remove her t shirt; his arm snaked around her back to unclasp her bra. The discomfort she felt when the underwire slid from underneath her breasts sounded a warning in the back of her mind; but she promptly dismissed it, her desire for him outweighing any and all other feelings.

Matty’s hand cupped her breast, his thumb swiping over her nipple. She jolted, her body tensing up, and not in good way. Waiting for the worst of the pain to pass, she leaned into him again, her lips finding his neck.

Matty’s hands roamed her body, cradling her back at first, then resting at her neck, before sliding, slowly, down her sides, his fingers tracing her skin. He squeezed her hips, his body instinctively rolling into hers. She felt a wave of cramps hit her, interrupting the needy pleasure of being entangled with him and yanking her out of the moment. She moaned, in a way that sounded closer to pain than pleasure, giving Matty a brief moment of pause. His eyes reluctantly pulled open, watching her searchingly. When she showed no signs of slowly down, he dismissed his doubts, giving himself back to her, his hands reaching for her again, cupping her breasts, squeezing them slightly. his thumb pinch her right nipple.

She winced loudly. “Ow no- ouch!”

“Sorry- fuck- was that not…”

“No, no. It’s fine.” She looked down at her breasts.

“Okay, I’m no mind reader but it was decidedly not fine. It did not sound like the ‘ouch’ of a fine person. Sounded like the ‘ouch’ of someone in pain.”

Her hands cupped his face, attempting to pull him in seductively. Another wave of cramps hit her, and despite her best attempt to stay calm, he could see it in the way that she squeezed her eyes.

“Baby, no- hang on a minute- no.” As much as he loved being kissed by her, he wouldn’t budge.

She groaned. Mumbling something under her breath and laying her head on him.

unexpectedly, he felt a strange dampness against his chest. His brows furrowed, looking down, “babe?”

The sob she’d been holding escaped her lips. She burst into tears.

“Oh my- fuck! What’s happened? Are you alright?” Matty panicked, his hand tilting her face up to meet her eyes. “What is it? What’s going on?”

“No-nothing.” She sniffled, rolling her eyes. Both at his concern, and her own dramatic tears. “I’m just- I ….want…” she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I’m so fuckin horny. I want to cum so bad.”

“So- you’re crying?”

“No, genius!” She hit his forehead against his chest as if against a walll. “I wanna fuck you so bad but also- I feel so - my tits are so sore. And….I feel so gross and bloated. I’m tired. My legs- feel like I’ve run a marathon. And then a 10K. And then walked up a mountain. But I’m just….so- “

“Horny?”

“So. Fuckin. Horny.” She whined.

As if her words had flipped a switch within him, Matty’s entire demeanor shifted, wasting no time in providing her with comfort. His hands rubbed her lower stomach as she rambled on about the various, sometimes conflicting, symptoms of periods, expressing in graphic detail all the things that she wished she could do to him if it weren’t for the alarm levels of exhaustion that she’d been plagued with. Matty did his best to be a listener. But he was never good at hiding his amusement, letting his giggling get away from him occasionally.

“I’m sorry, darling.” He whispered in her ear. “Wish you’d said something sooner.”

“I don’t- I don’t want the cutesy stuff.” She stated defensively.

“What?”

“I- know what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna try to make me feel better and feed me chocolate and watch a romcom and get me a hot water bottle….i don’t want that.”

Matty frown. “Hey! I thought you liked when I did that!”

“I did- I do….sometimes. Just- not right now.”

“Right.” He nodded. “Well, what- what do you need right now?”

“Need to cum.”

“I can-“

“But I don’t feel sexy.”

Matty scratched his head. “May I ask….what- how do you feel?”

“Sweaty and huge and like my feelings are half my body weight and also hungry.”

He giggled, taking her in his arms and kissing her. “Very well. I can work with that. I think.”

****

Matty emerged out of their master bathroom, smelling, nauseatingly of a strong mix of essential oils, like the local Lush store had exploded on him.

“Warm bubble bath should be ready any minute, m’lady.”

She rolled her eyes, hiding her blushing face. “M’lady? Really?”

“Can I get you anything to drink? Something to take into the bath with you perhaps?”

She shook her head.

“Very well then.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “That give us about…well, I’ll have to do my best work, but I’m up for a challenge.” He grinned at her suggestively.

“What-“ before the realization dawned on her, he’d picked her up in his arms, tossing her playful back onto the bed. “We’re gonna need a towel for this. Spread your legs for me.”

#matty healy fanfic #matty healy one shot #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy fluff #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader

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hornyfor-redacted-onmain · 1 year ago

Text

Longing

Pieces of My Heart - Chapter 10 Stray Kids OT8 x reader, Soulmate AU

Masterlist | Next Part

Chan Hey, just checking in. How’s your dad? Y/N He’s good, awake and lucid Doctors say everything went smoothly, he should make a full recovery Chan That’s good. Y/N How are the boys? Chan Missing you. Img.png Y/N Tell them I miss them too Chan I will. Give your dad our best wishes. Y/N Thanks

0o0o0

Sophie Hey, I just got your message Are you okay? Y/N Don’t worry, I’m fine. My dad’s okay too I didn’t get a chance to update you Had a lot on my mind Sophie No, yeah. I get it Y/N How was the day 2 concert? Sophie Just as amazing as day 1 Well, actually it was a bit weird I felt like the members weren’t as playful as the first time around. It seemed like they had a lot on their mind too … Maybe it was just one of those days Y/N Yeah, I guess Sophie Either way, it’s a shame we didn’t get to hang out more before you left I’m glad your dad’s okay Y/N Me too. If I’m ever back in the city, I’ll let you know Sophie Of course. In the meantime, want to see some videos from last night? Y/N Sure!

0o0o0

Y/N You sure you don’t want anything from the store? Mom I’m sure sweetie, thank you. Y/N Ok Mom Hey, while I have a chance to talk to you without your dad listening in. We need to talk about your soulmates. Y/N What about them? Mom Sweetheart, I remember when I met my soulmate. We were inseparable for weeks. I couldn’t even imagine how hard it is to be away from them right now. Y/N Mom … Mom I mean, even now, not being able to see her makes me uncomfortable. Why do you think we have our weekly Friday night meet ups? Y/N I thought that was just an excuse to go out and complain about Dan from finances Mom You and I both know I don’t need an excuse to complain about Dan. But that’s not the point. I can’t stand not being with Lucy. And we’re only platonic soulmates. From what I’ve heard, that’s definitely not the case with you. Y/N Mom! Mom You should be with your soulmates. Y/N Dad’s still in recovery, mom You can’t take care of him yourself, you have work and your health issues … You need help. They understand, we can make it work Besides, they’re on tour. I was going to have to be away from them for a while anyway It’s not like I could just go on tour with them Mom I’m sure that’s not true. Y/N Im almost back at the room. We can talk about this later

0o0o0

Soulmates

Y/N Hey Did you guys land yet? Seungmin Few minutes ago Felix Hi!!! How are you?! I’m good Felix, thank you ^^ Seungmin Img.png Img.png Img.png Felix YAH! Seungmin wtf!??! Seungmin Not my fault you all fell asleep on the plane Felix So you decided to photograph us?!!? Seungmin Blackmail material Minho I’m going to commit murder Y/N Awww, you guys look so cute I hope you guys get some rest … Guys? Wait he wasn’t serious about the murder was he? Hyunjin Hi baby I miss you Jisung I miss you too! Hyunjin I miss them more! Chan Guys, it’s not a competition Felix But if it is, I definitely miss them more >:) Y/N Guys, Minho wasn’t serious about killing Seungmin, was he? … Guys?

0o0o0

Jeongin Did you have breakfast yet? Y/N Shit, no I’ve been busy. I had to take my dad to his doctor’s appointment today and then I had to go do groceries Jeongin :( Y/N Sorry Innie. I’ll go get a snack rn Jeongin You haven’t been eating a lot lately … You know coffee doesn’t count as a meal, right? Y/N I know Sorry :( Jeongin You need to take care of yourself. I’m worried about you Y/N I will, I promise Jeongin I’ll remind you if you don’t. I swear, you’re worse than Channie-hyung Y/N D: I’m not that bad Jeogin … What did you just eat? It’s disgusting Please never eat that again Y/N You take that back Ham and Jelly toast is delicious and I refuse to accept this slander Plus its an easy snack Jeongin I will pay you to never eat that again Please Stop! DID YOU JUST ADD HOT SAUCE?!!!? Y/N Suffer

0o0o0

Mom I had a talk with my boss about work. He’s agreed to let me work from home for the next few months. Y/N Oh, that’s good. Now you can spend more time with dad during breaks and lunch … Mom It also means that I won’t need your help around the house anymore. Y/N Mom, we’ve talked about this. I’m not leaving you guys! Mom It’s been almost a month. Your soulmates are almost done with their tour You should go see them. Y/N I appreciate the effort mom, I really do. But can you just drop this? Mom No, I won’t. Why are you forcing yourself to be so unhappy? You think I don’t notice how stressed and upset you’ve been lately? You’re not eating well, you’re not getting a lot of sleep. Honey, I’m worried. Being away from your soulmates for so long so soon after meeting can’t be good for you. Or them! Y/N They have each other, they’ll be fine. Mom That’s not how this works, and you know it. Have you even talked to them about it? Y/N I don’t want to talk about it. Not right now. Mom You can’t run away from your problems forever.

0o0o0

Soulmates

Minho 커피 원해? (anyone want coffee?) Jisung ㅇㅇ (yup) Felix 내!!!! (yes!!!!) Chan 주세요. (please.) Seungmin 됐어요 (im good) Y/N I mean, if you’re offering It might be a bit cold by the time you get here though Minho Ahh, wrong chat Sorry Jisung Wait a minute! Since when do you read Korean?!! Y/N I don’t??!! I just used google translate Although I did recognize 내! That means yes :D Minho 귀엽다 (cute) Changbin Waa, our soulmate is so smart. Y/N :D Don’t drink too much coffee though. I’ve been told it is not a meal >:( Im talking to you, Chan Chan I have no idea what you’re talking about Y/N >:( Jeongin >:( Felix >:( Jisung >:( Chan It’s only my second cup today! And the first one was 3 hours ago! Y/N IT’S ONLY 9AM! Chan … Felix I’m going to kill you

0o0o0

Y/N Hey, can I ask for some advice? I need an unbiased opinion Sophie Well I’m not sure I’d consider myself unbiased. I’m definitely Han biased, that’s for sure. ;) Y/N It’s about my soulmate Sophie OH! I totally forgot about that, you haven’t talked about them at all! Y/N Yeah, between everything with my dad and then school and stuff … My mom has been on my ass these past few weeks about it Sophie About what? Y/N She thinks its unhealthy for me to be away from them She has this scary close bond with her soulmate, a childhood friend of hers. And she can’t imagine being away from her, so she thinks that I need to go be with my soulmate But I’ve been refusing, and now every time I see her it feels like she’s seconds away from starting another argument I’m just so tired of all the arguing, and wondering if maybe she’s right I have been having a harder time getting sleep Sophie Oh wow, that’s …. Wow. Y/N yeah Sophie I’m not sure you want my honest opinion right now. Y/N Please, I do. I need someone that isn’t my mom to be straight up with me. Am I being irrational? Sophie Well, first of all, being away from your soulmates is definitely not easy. But It’s also not a big deal, and long distance relationships work fine even between new soulmates. So maybe your mom is projecting a little bit. But I don’t think that’s the problem here. Y/N ??? Sophie Why does the idea of leaving to be with your soulmates bother you so much? I mean, when I found Alexis I was overjoyed, but I still didn’t have time to see him a lot. We both had school and work, and it was hard to find time to spend together. Honestly, I would have taken any opportunity I had to be with him. And yet here you are, turning down all of your mom’s offers. I feel like something else is at play here than just your mom’s pushiness. Y/N … Sophie I told you you wouldn’t like my opinion. Y/N No, you’re right Fuck, you’re right Sophie I usually am :) Y/N Thank’s Sophie, I really needed someone to knock some sense into me. Sophie Glad I could help. Want some memes? Y/N Yes, please!

0o0o0

Y/N Mom. I’m sorry You were right, I want to be with my soulmates. I really appreciate everything you’ve done to give me the opportunity to be with them. And I’m sorry I’ve been so stubborn about it. But Mom, I feel like you’re pushing me away. I feel like you don’t want me here. My soulmates will never be more important than you. You’re my mom, and I worry about you and dad. I worry about you guys being by yourselves, about being away from you. I’m scared and I just feel like everything is moving too fast. Can you call me when you get off work? I love you.

0o0o0

Y/N We need to talk Chan That doesn’t sound good Y/N It’s nothing bad, I promise Chan Okay? Y/N My dad has been getting better. He’s walking now. Chan That’s great! I’m glad your dad’s okay. Y/N Yeah Chan I have a feeling that’s not what you wanted to talk about, though. Y/N They managed to talk with a neighbor, and he agreed to drive my dad to his appointments if my mom can’t take him. And I started taking online classes. Chan Huh? Y/N Chris I think we need to talk about what happens when you guys are done with your tour.

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daisynik7 · 2 years ago

Note

I need more good even agnst

I forgot how to spell🥴

cw: angst, sexually explicit content, language, friends with benefits

Summary: Eren gets drunk and leaves a voicemail.

Author’s Note: Hi anon! Thanks for this request! I went in a little different direction for this one. This is inspired by this soundgasm (listener discretion is advised). Seriously, listen to it, you will not regret it. Anyways, hope you like this one!

Eren stumbles in through the door of his apartment late Friday night. Armin just dropped him off, playing the role of designated driver tonight. They spent the last few hours barhopping, Eren consuming enough alcohol for both of them. To say he’s drunk would be an understatement. Right now, he’s plastered. And that’s probably what leads him to what he does next.

After messily chugging a glass of water, he collapses onto his couch, reaching into his pocket for his phone. Instagram is already open; he clicks on it, glaring at the now familiar photo surrounding the screen. It’s a selfie you posted a few hours ago of you and your new boyfriend, beaming at the camera, the caption reading Date night!

He huffs, swiping out of the app to access his Favorites. He stares at your contact listed amongst your friends, the crown emoji right next to your name. It’s an inside joke between you two; you’re his “princess”.

Tapping at the phone, he holds it to his ear, starting. “Hey. It’s me. You’re probably wondering why I’m calling you. To be honest, I’m pretty faded right now.” He giggles, scratching his tummy. “So whatever I’m about to say, blame it on the alcohol.”

He hesitates, taking a deep breath. “Anyways, I saw your pic tonight. The one of you and your new boyfriend.” He pauses to swallow, that last word leaving a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. “I guess you’re officially off the market now. Congrats.”

He twirls a strand of his hair around his finger. “You look really good in that picture, by the way. That dress you’re wearing is one of my favorites because…” he snickers to himself, recalling that specific memory. “Well, you know.”

You wore that same dress the night you and Eren started sleeping together. The two of you got drunk at Mikasa’s birthday party, and you admitted to him how you haven’t had sex in months. He volunteered to change that for you, as long as the two of you only remain friends. At the time, Eren hated the thought of being in some sort of committed relationship. The furthest he was willing to go was friends with benefits, and that’s what the two of you became.

“I bet your new boyfriend doesn’t know how good I fucked you in that dress.” He sucks in a breath, cock throbbing in his pants, face flushed as he speaks. “Is he a better fuck than me? I bet he isn’t. You always go so crazy when I’m inside you.” He palms his erection, squeezing the phone closer to his ear. “Remember when you squirted all over my fucking face that one time? Had that clit swollen and raw on my tongue, that was fucking amazing.” Giggling again, he unzips his pants, sliding his jeans and briefs off, wrapping his fingers around his shaft.

“I’m sorry I’m like this. I just saw that picture of you tonight and I got so…” he doesn’t finish the rest of the statement. Instead, he strokes his cock, imagining you riding him on the couch the way you do. Slow and sensual at first, rocking your hips on his lap. Gradually picking up the pace, bouncing on his cock, thrusting your ass against him, warm mouth moaning into his ear. That’s his favorite; the couple of seconds right before you come, how high pitched your whimpers get, especially as you breathe out his name. The way you unravel around him, melt into his body, a perfect fit in his arms.

He pumps his cock fast in his fist, coming quick to the thought of you. Tissues in hand, wiping up his mess, he sighs into the phone. Voice trembling, he asks, “Do you still think about me? I know we kinda stopped hooking up once you met…whatever his name is. And I know we were never exclusive or whatever, but…” He gulps loudly, nervous for what he’s about to admit. “I miss you.”

This is what he wanted. What he asked for. Friends with benefits, no strings attached. He made that clear from the beginning, and you agreed to it, no problem. When did it all start to get so muddled? Was it when he realized being with you was way more fun than being with his friends? Being alone?

He remembers that night on the balcony. It was his birthday, and he was having a small gathering at his place. The two of you went outside for some air and alone time. It was a normal conversation, but somewhere in the middle, you said something that stuck with him. I hope you’re happy.

He clicks his tongue, deciding to let it all out. “It should be us, y’know. You and me. Not you and him. It’s my own fault it didn’t end up this way. I was too much of a fucking coward to tell you I love you. Too much of a coward to admit it to myself.”

“Anyways, it doesn’t matter anymore since you’re with somebody else now. I don’t want you to listen to this and feel sorry for me. It’s not your fault at all, and I’ll be okay. I just wanted you to know how I feel about you. And if he ever breaks your heart or hurts you in any way, don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll fucking kick his ass if you want me to. I’ll always be here for you.”

After another deep breath, he ends the call with his parting words. “I hope you’re happy, princess. I really do.”

He takes his phone away from his ear, staring at the screen, still stuck on his Favorites list. He checks the call log and notices that the call never even went through. With a heavy sigh, both relieved and disappointed, he sets his phone down on the coffee table, leaving it as he shuffles towards his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

#requests #eren smut #eren jaeger #eren jaeger smut #eren x you #eren x y/n #eren x reader #eren jaeger imagines #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x female reader #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager #aot smut #attack on titan smut

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morgan-va · 3 months ago

Note

im so sorry to busy u with more reqs but i js. Need to get the idea worms out of my head. They’ve been infesting since i haven’t seen any CONTENT of my MAN…

anyways, rocky rickaby x reader who has ALOT of experience in like, bootlegging/crime?? I can imagine reader being more of the levelheaded one, similar to mordecai with seraphine and nico. Hc or oneshot is fine for me!!! Again, thank you sm for taking my reqs !!!

I need more requests so its okay!

Rocky Rickaby x Experienced Bootlegger GN!Reader Headcanons

Masterlist

From the moment Rocky meets you, he’s utterly awestruck. You’re the picture of composure and competence, handling every situation with ease and precision. To him, you’re like something out of the pulpy crime flick he’s seen on the silver screen.

Your calm demeanor is a stark contrast to Rocky’s chaos, and he finds it both intimidating and incredibly attractive.

“So cool under pressure,” he’d marvel after watching you talk your way out of a sticky situation with police. “If I tried that, I’d probably end up accidentally confessing to five other crimes I didn’t commit!” (He absolutely committed them)

Rocky quickly becomes your biggest admirer, constantly bragging about your skills to anyone who will listen.

“You should’ve seen them, took down three armed guards without so much as a wrinkle in their coat! Incredible, I tell ya!”

Despite his tendency to be a bit of a disaster, you recognize Rocky’s value in a crew. His quick thinking and ability to improvise have saved your neck more than once, even if his plans make you roll your eyes half the time.

Rocky sees you as a mentor of sorts and often peppers you with questions about how you stay so calm under pressure.

“What’s the secret? Is it a breathing technique? A special kind of whiskey? Oh, don’t tell me, it’s meditation, isn’t it?”

“It’s experience, Rocky. And not thinking about how everything could go wrong every second of the job. Maybe try that.”

“…So not whiskey?”

You’re often the one cleaning up after his messes, whether it’s smoothing things over with angry clients or making sure his wild plans don’t leave too much collateral damage. While it can be frustrating, you also secretly admire his audacity.

Rocky loves testing your composure, purposely throwing absurd ideas into the mix just to see if he can make you react. He’s secretly thrilled whenever he manages to make you smirk or raise an eyebrow.

The rest of the Lackadaisy crew respects you immensely and often turns to you to keep Rocky in check. It’s an unspoken rule that you’re the “unofficial babysitter” for the violinist.

“If anyone can keep Rocky alive during a job, it’s you.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an admission of how much of a liability he is.”

Rocky is constantly trying to impress you, whether it’s through his (questionable) driving skills, dramatic storytelling, or attempts at being stealthy. Even when he fails spectacularly, you can’t help but find his enthusiasm endearing.

On jobs, you make an excellent team. Your levelheadedness balances out Rocky’s reckless creativity, and you’ve developed a mutual understanding of how to play to each other’s strengths. It’s like a dance, with you as the steady lead and Rocky providing the unexpected flourishes (in the form of nearly blowing you up for the tenth time (today)).

While you’re used to operating alone, Rocky’s presence has grown on you over time. His humor and unshakeable optimism bring a lightness to the work that you didn’t realize you were missing.

Rocky is endlessly fascinated by your past and loves hearing stories about your earlier exploits, even if they’re told in your usual no-nonsense manner.

“And then what happened? Don’t leave me hanging!”

“We made the delivery and got paid, Rocky. Not every story ends in explosions.”

“But wouldn’t it be better if it did?”

He’s surprisingly sweet when it comes to you, often going out of his way to make your life easier in small ways—like carrying the heavier crates (Read: making someone else carry them) or fixing something you didn’t have time to deal with. It’s his way of showing how much he respects and appreciates you.

He’s not above making dramatic declarations about your partnership, often comparing the two of you to legendary duos like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (to which you usually roll your eyes).

Over time, you find yourself softening toward Rocky, realizing that his chaos isn’t just entertaining but also oddly comforting. He brings a sense of unpredictability and joy to your life that you never expected to appreciate. And let’s face it, his laughter is a bit infectious.

While you may outwardly seem like the steady anchor to his whirlwind, the truth is, Rocky’s boundless energy and determination keep you grounded in their own way. Together, you’re an unstoppable—and unconventional—team.

#rocky rickaby x reader #lackadaisy #lackadaisy hcs #lackadaisy fanfic #lackadaisy fanfiction

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1d1195 · 1 year ago

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Committed Extra II

Read the rest here: Committed

Based on this ask

I always suggest listening to this TikTok while reading this series but I think they remind me SO much of Home by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros.

Warnings: 18+, smut, maybe a little more romantic-smut than smut-smut but anyways. Please ignore any continuity errors from previous parts. I couldn't find what I was looking for but it doesn't mean they don't exist. not suitable for Ramadan

~3.2k words

Harry had seen her in a bathing suit. He had seen her in skirts that were not suitable for school and a dress that showed off so much of her cleavage he wondered why she didn't just wear a bra instead. The idea of seeing her fully naked was far beyond what he could possibly imagine. It was every one of his fantasies and more.

Harry had no way of getting his hands on her beautiful mind and soul. So he was going to devour her body instead.

Sarah was going to Mitch’s, which meant her place was empty.

Harry didn’t have any clothes or anything, but he didn’t care. There were leftover items between himself and Mitch so as long as they didn’t have to attend a wedding there was an outfit for him the next day.

The car ride was silent. Unless he heard her heartbeat, which was extremely plausible because it was beating so hard. He held her hand, like he had ten thousand times before, but now it was different. Because Harry loved her. Like really loved her. The way she always dreamed of him loving her. Every time she remembered he loved her she squeezed his hand. It brought a smile to his face, and she swore the needle of the speedometer crept up another increment just to get them home faster.

The logistics of the night hadn’t dawned on her until they were in her apartment living room. Silent as Harry locked the door behind him. Nerves started to swim in her bloodstream. They had incredible chemistry, their friendship was solid, she had seen Harry at his worst—sick with the stomach bug that required a complete change of clothes, and he had seen her sweaty and covered with dirt after helping her dad in the backyard.

If the sex was bad, what would it say about their relationship?

It couldn’t be bad, right? She had waited so long to have Harry in her life in this capacity. Friendship was their opener. Saying I love you was the main setlist. Sex was just the encore. It would be fine.

Right?!

“Are y’okay, kitten?” He asked.

“Hmm?”

“You’re ‘bout t’squeeze m’fingers off m’hand,” she released the death grip she had on it. “Tell me,” he ordered, but his voice was soft.

“I’m so nervous.”

“Nervous?” He repeated.

“What if the sex is bad?”

He chuckled. “I highly doubt it will be bad,” he pulled her close, trapping her against his body, cupping the side of her face and kissing her as if he had kissed her in the very spot a thousand times before. “But m’not with you for the sex.”

“Well, I don’t know what you were up to while I was gone but I haven’t had sex in a year and a half so I would like it to be good,” she murmured.

His eyes scanned her face, searching for something. “Y’think I had sex with someone else while y’were gone?” He asked.

She rolled. “That’s what you took away from that?”

“Who did you sleep with a year and a half ago?” He asked ignoring her follow-up question.

“It’s none of your business!”

“Your body s’all mine now,” he said simply. But it set her skin aflame and her heart into a frantic beat that had her worrying she would need an ambulance on standby outside the building. “S’very much m’business,” he murmured.

“Harry,” she sighed pinching the bridge of her nose. “That guy I went out with for like a month?”

“You slept with him?”

“We went out for a month, Harry.”

“But he was awful.”

“You thought everyone I dated was awful.”

“They were,” he said petulantly. She sighed.

“When did you last have sex?” She asked.

“I don’t know, three years ago?” It should have been embarrassing. But it wasn’t. This was his best friend and he didn’t care.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah right,” she snorted. “No really, I told you. You have to tell me.”

“M’not kidding kitten,” his voice was firm.

“You haven’t had sex in three years?” She still sounded incredulous, and Harry just stared at her waiting for it to click. Her lips parted. “How...why...?”

“When I realized I was in love with y’kitten,” he shrugged. “Didn’t want t’have sex.”

“So you were just going to...never have sex again?”

He shrugged again. “I hadn’t thought ‘bout it t’be honest.”

It was so quiet in the apartment, not even her rapid heartbeat made a sound. “What if it’s bad? What if I’m bad at it? What if it’s not—”

“Kitten,” he sighed and shook his head. “We were terrible at French, and we took three years of it together. We’ll practice. M’not in love with y’because of sex. Obviously—loved y’before sex was an option. M’in love with you because you’re m’favorite person. M’only person,” he reminded her. “I don’t care about sex.”

It should have relieved her but it didn’t. “I want it to be good,” she whispered.

“I do too, kitten. Trust me. But s’not the end all be all.”

Quiet, surrounded them again. “C’mon,” he hummed and tugged her toward the bedroom. “Jus’ say stop if y’need a minute,” he pulled her jacket off her shoulders and bent to slip her shoes off. She felt like Cinderella. He was so gentle and while she was slightly terrified it would suck and he would realize he hated her, it was normal. Harry getting ready to undress her was normal feeling. It was warm, gentle, and all things that were Harry. She felt safe and maybe finally she realized he was probably right. Sex wouldn’t be bad. “We don’t have t’do this tonight either, kitten.”

“No way, you’ve been waiting three years and I think my vibrator is dead so it’s going to have to work,” she explained.

He groaned quietly, began kissing the length of her neck and making the noise vibrate her skin and veins in a way that nearly made her knees give out. “Well, charge it, because I have t’see that,” his breath was hot on her skin making her dizzy.

They stood and kissed for at least three minutes, her hands tugging at the hair on the back of his head silently begging for him to get closer. It was so quiet in her room she was starting to feel uneasy. “Can we put on some music or something?” She whispered.

“Turn on your radio?” He suggested kissing the curve of her neck and shoulder, taking the collar of her shirt away from her neck.

She shook her head. “I downloaded your music onto a CD, and I love you, but I think fucking to the sound of you and our friends would be a little too much for me.”

He chuckled against her skin forgoing the kisses and pulled his phone from his pocket and set up a random playlist.

Harry’s mouth found hers again and he gently guided her back onto her bed. His fingers started to push her shirt up her torso. She pulled away from his mouth and stilled his hands. “What are you doing?” She asked quickly. He chuckled.

“Trying t’take your shirt off. Do y’want t’stop?”

She shook her head trying to shake the nerves away. “Sorry,” her cheeks reddened.

“S’okay,” he assured her. “S’new, s’gonna be a little weird probably,” he amended.

She swallowed. “I don’t really like my body,” she whispered. “I don’t really talk about that with you...” she reminded him.

She was wrong. She was so beautiful and in Harry’s eyes there wasn’t any reason for her to feel ashamed or insecure about her body. It was perfect, exactly as she was. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “M’gonna make y’feel beautiful or we’re never having sex again,” he chuckled.

She giggled despite herself and nodded. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

“M’sure,” he nodded firmly. “M’gonna take m’shirt off first, then.”

“No, don’t do that, that’s not fair,” she stopped his hands before he could tug it over his head. “I can’t take my shirt off after yours.”

He laughed a little louder this time and he kissed her sweetly, pecking at her lips over and over as he pulled away. “We can’t do this without being naked, kitten.”

She took a deep breath, sighed, and pulled her shirt over her head.

Harry had no way of getting his hands on her beautiful mind and soul. So, he was going to devour her body instead.

His gaze scanned her upper half for a few moments admiring the tiny little bow on the center of her bra right between her breasts. He kissed the swell of each one every so slightly spilling out of the cup. Her breath caught in her throat and Harry kissed upwards, bringing his lips back to hers and he pulled off his own shirt without any fanfare. Harry often walked around without a shirt, when at the pool or a beach he obviously didn’t wear a shirt. This she was used to. Her hands roamed his body and his skin felt so warm and so nice she couldn’t believe she thought this could be bad.

Harry couldn’t get her zipper down.

She giggled and Harry snorted. “Didn’t know y’were gonna wear a chastity belt, kitten.”

The clasp of her bracelet somehow managed to catch on to the fabric of his boxers a few moments later. “Jesus,” she sighed and brought her face so close to the fabric to work it free Harry turned a bright shade of red, cleared his throat and she realized her hand was resting on his dick to get it undone.

“Oops,” she whispered and pulled back. Harry chuckled softly. Every awkward moment was completed with more kisses that by the time Harry finished struggling with the clasp of her bra, (“I’ve never seen a bra with a snap like this!” “It’s comfier!”) There were only Harry’s boxers and her underwear between them.

“There’s no going back,” she reminded him.

“I don’t want t’go back,” his voice was thick with the promise.

“Me either,” she whispered.

“Kitten,” he tilted her chin up from her staring at his chest. He brought her gaze back to his. “M’so in love with you. Always.”

She nodded. “I love you too,” she smiled.

He brought his mouth to cover hers again and a new feeling took over. The air was hotter, thicker, like they were moving through a pool of water. His lips never stopped kissing her, his tongue stroking softly against her lip as he did. It made her shiver. He curled closer to her, his hand reaching between them and skimming the outside of her panties. Her breath caught at the touch of his fingers on her suddenly aching center. Harry went back to kissing down her throat, over to the space where the curve of her shoulder met her neck. “Want t’make y’feel so good, kitten,” his voice was husky.

She already thought she was going to come undone from just his fingers touching the outside of her underwear and his throaty whisper. His fingers deftly pulled the fabric to the side, and he slid his finger down through the wetness that had accumulated between her leg. She shivered again and moaned softly again. He hadn’t even done anything. But his fingers were searching. Not for what she felt was aching for him most, but for her clit and he found it so quickly it made her cry out as he skillfully circled the pad of his finger on it not too hard but not too soft. “S’good, baby,” he hummed quietly and continued to kiss her. “You’re nice and wet, kitten. Who’s that for?”

“You,” her voice hardly carried through the whisper.

“Good,” he mumbled and dropped his finger lower, teasing her, because it felt like she was clenching, begging his finger to enter her.

Maybe if she had met Harry that night and hadn’t known his personality so well, she would have been shyer and wouldn’t have had the reaction she did. But part of her felt a little competitive and if he was going to tease her, she wasn’t going to let him enjoy it too much.

She pressed her hand to the outside of his boxers, feeling how hard he was and making him gasp at the touch. His hand stilled between her legs, and she tugged his boxers lower, so his dick escaped the fabric. He groaned as she wrapped her fingers around him. “Kitten,” he grunted into her skin, and she sighed as his fingers continued to circle her clit and search for something that she wasn’t sure Harry was going to find.

“Kitten, I haven’t had sex in three years,” he groaned.

“So...you better get inside me quick?” She suggested.

He groaned again. “Yes,” he nodded against her collarbone. “Please,” he almost whined. “Condom?” She nodded and pointed to her nightstand drawer.

She couldn’t disagree. Harry had double the time on her since her last intimate moment, but she wanted him so badly in her she thought if they waited any longer, she would cry. She removed her underwear and Harry sat up to remove his boxers.

Of course, she just finished feeling how big, hard, and long he was. But it was another thing entirely to see his length literally in the flesh. “Did y’jus’ gulp?”

Her cheeks warmed. “You’re...big,” she murmured.

He snorted putting the condom in place. “Y’know how t’give a guy an ego,” but she could see the way his cheeks pinked.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m just...I want it,” she caught his gaze and as awkward as everything felt, looking into the pretty green eyes of her best friend, this was not. “I want everything with you.”

Harry’s gaze softened and he dropped his hips between her legs and caught her lips again. The sound of gentle music, their tangled breath, and the skin-to-skin contact was the only noise in the room. Harry reached between them again and slid the head of his cock along the wetness that pooled between her legs again. She moaned, loudly and without abandon. Harry grunted and pushed himself inside her.

It was like sliding the final puzzle piece together. They locked into a position that felt so right, so perfect, every bit of that awkwardness went away as quickly as it appeared. Harry groaned and buried his face in her neck again. It was his new favorite spot, tucked into the curve that smelled like her perfume and her hair. It was entirely her, and so perfect. “Fuck, kitten,” he grunted letting her have a minute to stretch to accommodate his body. It had been a while since there was a dick inside her and despite how wet Harry made her it didn’t help the ache that started as he settled perfectly between her thighs.

“Oh my God,” she whispered breathlessly. “Wow,” she mumbled.

Harry focused on breathing deeply so he wouldn’t burst the second one of them shifted. “We can jus’ stay like this,” he murmured. “Nothing else, for the rest of our lives.”

She kissed the side of his head and nodded. “Yes, please.”

He pulled back slightly, his body readjusted to the feeling and his gaze was hungry as he looked her in the eye. “You are my everything,” he whispered.

Her heart fluttered, as good as Harry’s body felt inside her, it was nothing in comparison to the way his words touched her. “I love you,” she whispered because everything else she thought to say seemed inadequate.

He smiled and brought his mouth to hers, kissed her deeply and started to move.

It felt fast and slow at the same time. A juxtaposition that she didn’t know was possible. Every time Harry’s hips pushed from hers to create a heavenly friction, she followed him begging for him to come back. It felt like being apart from him, even the inch he moved to make everything feel better, was too much. She thought if it felt any better, she would cry.

“Fuck,” he groaned pumping into her at a steady rhythm. Her hands searched his body, the length of his back, digging her nails into his hips to keep him close to her. His hands held her hips in place so he was able to provide the right leverage that angled his cock, so it hit every right spot.

“Baby,” she moaned into his neck and kissed his skin. He groaned again in response. He twisted her as if he had done it about a thousand times and suddenly, she was on top of him. Pressing her hands onto his chest and moving her hips up and down so she was gliding rhythmically up and down his length.

“This was a horrible idea,” he moaned. “M’gonna finish jus’ looking at you.”

She blushed, covered her face with one hand, and laughed lightly. “It feels so good,” she whispered. “I don’t want to leave this bed.”

Harry brought her body close, one hand cupping the back of her neck and other slid down her back, gripping her butt. “We don’t have to,” his voice was hungry and he sealed his lips between hers.

“I’m going to...” she bit the inside of her lip and buried her face into his neck again. “Oh my God,” she moaned.

Harry answered her moan with his own again and met each of her thrusts with his hips. “S’good, kitten. Fuck,” he sighed. “Wanted this for so long,” he brought her mouth. “Can’t wait for you t’cum all over me and then do it all over again,” he groaned.

His voice made her ache all over. She was already aching. She wanted to stay like this for the rest of her life. Maybe longer if it was allowed.

She had a vibrator and she had sex enough times to know when she was going to have a good orgasm. But this was nothing like that.

This was so much more. The connection she felt to Harry the adoration and love she felt was more than any tingling, body shaking reaction she ever had when Harry thrusted into her just so. “Oh there, there, there,” she begged and dropped her face to his neck again with a heavy sigh.

“M’here, kitten,” he promised holding her close to him. “Right there,” he repeated thrusting as she rode through the toe-curling, body shaking orgasm. He nipped at her shoulder as he finished. Sighing heavily she dropped to him fully, her body warm, and he kissed her forehead. He brushed her hair down kissed her again. “Gotta get off, kitten,” he murmured.

“I already did,” she mumbled back.

He chuckled. “Just two minutes, kitten,” he assured her. “I love you,” he whispered. She sighed deeply, rolled to the side and let Harry get out of bed quickly. When he returned from the bathroom she was sprawled across the bed facedown. “You okay, m’love?” He asked.

She nodded. “I love you too, Harry.”

He chuckled, wrapping himself around her like a koala bear. “Good.”

“Wanna do it again?” She asked.

He laughed and kissed along her back. “Already?” He asked.

“Gotta make-up for all that lost time. And three years, Harry!”

He smiled against her skin. “Give me a minute.”

“Take all the time you need. We have forever now.”

general taglist: general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

committed taglist: @tiaamberxx

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